As Homelander In Multiverse

Dust swirled through the air.

The officers and soldiers, now caked in dirt, clambered to their feet. From within the thick cloud of dust, a figure emerged.

Slicked-back blonde hair, chiseled features, and a bright, warm smile. He wore a blue uniform—notably missing his star-spangled cape—but that didn't stop the soldiers from recognizing him instantly.

"Homelander."

"What's he doing here?"

"This is bad."

Their murmurs rippled through the camp, not in excitement, but in apprehension.

Homelander's sharp hearing caught every whispered word, and their expressions betrayed more than they intended.

They aren't happy to see me? Homelander thought, his curiosity piqued. He turned to the nearest officer.

"Who's in charge here?"

The soldier quickly pointed toward a nearby tent. "That would be Colonel Yuri, sir."

Homelander didn't respond further. He shot into the air with a soft whoosh and landed gracefully inside the command tent.

Inside, Colonel Yuri—who had also overseen the international airport hijacking incident—was busy watching a monitor. The sudden gust from Homelander's arrival made his eyebrows knit together in frustration.

The colonel knew this man too well.

Homelander had made it clear during the airport incident just how little he cared for military authority. And now, faced with him again, Yuri's headache returned in full force.

"Colonel Yuri," Homelander greeted, skipping pleasantries. "You shouldn't be here."

"This camp needs to evacuate immediately. Things are about to get ugly."

Colonel Yuri crossed his arms, exuding as much authority as he could muster. "Funny you say that, Homelander. I was just about to tell you that this operation is none of your business."

Homelander's gaze narrowed in silent inquiry.

"Follow me," Yuri said curtly.

He led Homelander to a monitor and clicked a remote. A dimly lit basement appeared on the screen, showing a disturbing scene—several people huddled on the floor, their ragged breaths visible in the stale air.

Their skin was pitch-black, hair falling out in clumps, and bulging veins snaked across their bodies, evidence of grotesque mutations.

A term surfaced in Homelander's mind.

Night Thralls.

The camera panned, revealing a clownish figure grinning at the lens.

"Greetings, Department of Homeland Security," the man said theatrically. "By the time you see this message, the residents of Silver Tree—every last one of them—are under our control."

"Oh, where are my manners?" The clown pressed a hand to his chest in mock humility. "You may call me... hmm, let's go with Midnight Jester."

He gave the camera a playful wag of his tongue, followed by an exaggerated gasp.

"Right now, the 2,174 residents of this quaint little town are suffering immensely."

"They've been poisoned—infected with a rather fascinating virus. It makes them violent, bloodthirsty, and hungry for carnage."

"You wouldn't want them wandering into nearby towns or cities now, would you?"

The Jester twirled a knife as he spoke, slicing into an apple with practiced ease.

"We have the situation under control… for now."

Taking a crisp bite of the apple, he pointed the knife at the camera. "This didn't have to escalate. But no—you had to keep ignoring us. And your dear Homelander even killed two of our most valued members."

"That made me very, very angry."

The clown's grin stretched unnaturally wide. "So here's the deal. Release two of our comrades from Lux Island Prison. Oh, and give us a nice chunk of land—acknowledge our sovereignty, and let us run things our way."

"If you don't meet these demands within 24 hours... well..." The Jester gestured to the writhing townsfolk behind him.

"Let's just say, your cities will have a nasty infestation of Night Thralls."

He leaned closer to the camera, his tone suddenly sharp. "And one more thing—if that flying psychopath so much as shows his face here, the deal's off. No negotiations. No antidote. Just pure chaos."

The screen cut to black.

Yuri turned to Homelander. "Now you understand. This isn't a job for you or your team."

Homelander's smile was unsettlingly calm. "Believe me, Colonel, these people are beyond saving."

Yuri stiffened.

"The kindest thing we can do," Homelander continued, "is to end their misery. They aren't bargaining chips—they're victims."

"So leave this to me. Evacuate your men or lock down the perimeter—just make sure none of those thralls escape."

A distant whir of helicopter blades signaled the arrival of the Seven. Moments later, a soldier rushed into the tent to report.

"Sir! The rest of the Seven have arrived."

Colonel Yuri rubbed his temples in frustration. "Homelander, this is a matter of national security. You can't just hijack this operation!"

Homelander was already striding toward the exit, unconcerned by Yuri's protests.

Suddenly, a young officer blocked his path, his face twisted in defiance.

"This is the military, not your playground!" the officer snapped. "We won't tolerate your hero games here!"

Sensing Yuri's attention on him, the young officer grew bolder. This was his chance to impress.

"Listen here, Homelander," the officer sneered, jabbing a finger into Homelander's chest.

"You superheroes are reckless. Unchecked. And you—" He jabbed again for emphasis. "Without your powers, you'd be nothing. Just some loser working a dead-end job, probably flipping burgers or filing reports."

"Now get out. Take your freak friends and—"

Before he could finish, Homelander grabbed him by the collar and tossed him skyward.

The officer's scream trailed off as he shot through the air, vanishing into the distant horizon.

Stunned, Colonel Yuri could only gape at the open sky.

"You..." Yuri stammered. "You just—"

"What?" Homelander said, his voice light. "I took out the trash for you."

He clasped his hands in mock prayer. "May God bless his soul."

Without another word, Homelander shot into the sky, leaving a stunned Yuri behind.

The colonel shook his head in disbelief. "This man... he's insane."

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