"There's a lot to cover," Clark said, folding his suit with the practiced efficiency of someone who had done it ten thousand times. "Where do we start?"
"Start by putting that in here." Jude handed him a small case. "We'll also need to pick you up a business suit. Something you can wear over the uniform when necessary. And these."
He held out a pair of glasses.
Clark took them and turned them over. Plain frames, no prescription, the lenses clear as water. His mouth curved into a small smile.
"These look exactly like mine."
"Similar enough to work."
"I didn't bring my own this time." Clark slid them on and adjusted the bridge once. The smile settled into something comfortable. "Thank you, Mom."
He caught himself.
Jude looked at him.
"I have no idea why I said that," Clark said.
"I'll try to be flattered." Jude gestured toward the rooftop door. "Stairs."
"Stairs."
Two men, one capable of flight and the other capable of scaling the building's exterior in seconds, obediently descended the stairwell one floor at a time.
"I do find I have better control of the bio-field with the glasses," Clark offered halfway down, explaining nothing in particular.
"That checks out."
"What do you know about Vought International?"
"Quite a bit by now." The stairwell door opened onto the street. The noise hit them—exhaust, horns, the ambient hum of a city running at full speed. "Public company, headquartered in New York. Officially, they're in the business of superhero management and related entertainment properties. In practice—"
"Commercialized heroes," Clark said.
"That's the main trunk, yes. Movies, games, theme parks, merchandise, brand partnerships, endorsement contracts. And underneath all of that, the actual business: a global superhero security services model. Vought has something north of two hundred superhumans under contract. Those people are then deployed, or rented out, to cities, governments, and private clients in exchange for money or political consideration."
Clark stayed quiet. The screen on the building opposite cycled through advertisements. One featured a thirty-second promotional reel for The Seven: capes, explosions, and heroic poses set to an orchestral score.
"Vought's effective influence inside the United States," Jude continued, "is roughly comparable to what you have in Metropolis. Different kind of power, but similar scale of reach." He paused. "There's also a significant proportion of their revenue that doesn't trace cleanly. Media relationships that look like buyoffs, political channels that move more money than they should. Every large company has some version of this. Vought's version is more developed."
"It's uncomfortable to hear," Clark said.
"I know." Jude held a hotel door open. "That's how you know you're still calibrated correctly. Come on. Old method."
The lobby was standard-issue business hotel: neutral carpet, soft lighting, anonymous comfort designed to feel like nowhere.
"When you arrive in a new universe without preparation time," Jude explained as they walked to the desk, "you find a hotel for the first week and sort out permanent accommodation once you know what you're working with. Renting is usually better than buying until you have a clear picture of the geography."
"You've done this before," Clark said.
"A few times."
The receptionist confirmed the booking. Two standard rooms. One week. Jude paid with the bank card, took both keys, and handed one to Clark.
"Where were we?"
"The Seven," Clark said.
"Right." They found two chairs in a corner of the lobby to wait for the elevator. Jude leaned back. "The Seven are the premium tier. Vought's seven most commercially valuable, most recognizable heroes. Chosen, promoted, and managed as a package. The lineup is deliberately varied: different abilities, different demographics, different political appeal. Between the seven of them, they cover enough of the electorate to read as 'for everyone.' Vought calls it representation. I'd call it—"
"Comprehensive targeting."
"That's the phrase I was looking for."
The elevator chimed and the doors opened.
"Homelander you've met. Strongest of The Seven, possibly the strongest metahuman in this universe. His ability set overlaps significantly with yours, though the numbers are different in ways that matter. Then Queen Maeve: enhanced body, accelerated healing, roughly Wonder Woman's lane but in the tier below Homelander. She's there partly for ability coverage and partly because Vought needed a woman at the top of the card."
Clark's jaw tightened. "A hero's value should be determined by what they do. Not by what demographic they represent to investors."
"I agree with you," Jude said. He kept his tone even. "In this universe, everything with a superhero attached to it has been run through a commercial filter first. Diversity is real. It's also a product line. Both things are true simultaneously, and it gets messy." He watched the floor numbers light up. "The critique isn't the diversity. It's the fact that everything, including the diversity, is a lever for revenue. Nobody in this building ever did anything for a reason that couldn't eventually be traced back to a quarterly report."
Clark did not respond. He stared at the elevator doors, his brow knit in thought.
"Then A-Train," Jude continued, "who you've also met. Super speed. Next: Black Noir. Black uniform, doesn't speak, doesn't draw attention. He's a physical-enhancement type, similar baseline to Maeve. Don't let the low profile fool you." He raised an eyebrow. "Then there's The Deep. Aquatic. Can breathe underwater, high-speed movement in water, and he can communicate with and direct marine life."
Clark glanced at him.
"Think of him as a particular kind of Aquaman," Jude said. "You'll recognize the model. You'll meet him eventually."
"That accounts for five," Clark said. "Six if you count someone who retired."
"Lamplighter. Fire-based abilities. He's no longer with the group, the details are blurry, but the practical result is The Seven is currently operating at six." A brief pause. "And then the sixth: Translucent. He has the ability to alter the carbon structure of his skin to refract light. Effectively renders himself invisible. He's the most unremarkable member of the group by a significant margin, which is presumably useful for someone whose whole power is not being seen." Jude paused. "I actually forgot to mention him just now and had to go back."
The elevator opened on their floor.
"One more point on abilities in general. All Vought-managed superhumans have baseline physical enhancement regardless of their primary power: increased strength, endurance, resilience. Maeve and Black Noir have that as their primary ability with additional layering. Others have it as a foundation under everything else."
They walked down the corridor.
"And where do the abilities come from?" Clark asked. "Are they born with them?"
"That's the official position. Vought's framing is 'divine gift'—chosen by God, as it were, which makes for good branding. However." Jude stopped at his room door and inserted the key. "The distribution doesn't support the theology. The United States has the highest density of superhumans in the world, but the religion holy lands, historically, have very few. If this is divine selection, God has a strong preference for American zip codes."