Marvel : Homelander

The flight had been uneventful so far—Flight 735, a direct trip from New York to Los Angeles.

The cabin was filled with the hum of the engines, and passengers were either engrossed in movies, taking naps, or flipping through magazines.

The flight attendants moved through the aisles, serving drinks and snacks.

Sitting near the back of the plane, a young woman named Mortis, with striking dark hair and a cold demeanor, unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up.

She was dressed in black leather, her gaze cutting through the cabin like a blade.

She moved casually, heading toward the rear galley, where a flight attendant was preparing coffee.

Mortis wasn't alone.

Nearby, the towering mutant known as Avalanche was sitting calmly in an aisle seat, appearing as if he were simply enjoying the flight like everyone else.

His demeanor was relaxed, but his mind was on edge.

At the front of the plane, the blue-skinned mutant Toad was blending in near the first class cabin.

His tongue flicked nervously, but he kept his head down, waiting for Mortis to make the first move.

Mortis arrived at the back galley, her movements slow and deliberate.

The flight attendant smiled as she turned, but that smile faded quickly as Mortis reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

With just a touch, the flight attendant's eyes went wide with pain, her life force suddenly being drained.

Mortis leaned in close and whispered, "No screaming, no fuss. Now walk to the cockpit with me, or you'll be dead before we hit 20,000 feet."

The flight attendant, pale and barely able to stand, nodded weakly. Mortis kept her grip tight as they began walking toward the front of the plane.

At the same time, Avalanche stood up from his seat, his face impassive.

As he casually made his way toward the front, his hand lightly brushed against the side of the plane. His powers vibrated within him, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.

Toad, keeping his head down, saw them approaching and slid out of his seat. He made his way to the front of the plane, just in time to join Mortis and the trembling flight attendant.

"Knock on the door," Mortis ordered, her voice low but full of menace. The flight attendant raised her shaking hand and knocked on the cockpit door.

"It's Brenda," she stammered. "Can I come in?"

The door opened slightly as the pilot peeked out. Mortis shoved Brenda aside and stepped forward, her hand outstretched toward the pilot's chest.

With just a touch, she could end his life, and the fear in his eyes told her that he knew it.

Toad followed her in, closing the cockpit door behind them. "Alright, gents,"

Toad sneered, his voice full of mockery, "we're going to take a little detour. No sudden movements, or Mortis here will give you a real shock."

The captain and co-pilot glanced at each other nervously before the captain slowly nodded.

He adjusted the plane's course, turning it south under their watchful eyes.

Meanwhile, Toad pulled out a small device from his bag, quickly attaching it to the plane's communication system to jam the radio signals.

No one would be calling for help.

Back in the cabin, Avalanche took his seat near the emergency exit, his eyes scanning the passengers.

He hadn't shown his power yet, but he was ready to cause chaos if anyone tried to stop them.

"Piece of cake," Avalanche muttered to himself as he leaned back, waiting for the signal.

The Brotherhood had hijacked the plane with precision, and as far as the passengers were concerned, everything was still normal.

Mortis glanced at the pilot and then at Toad, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smirk. "Let's keep this quiet," she whispered.

"We've got work to do once we land."

With the plane now under their control, the mutants of the Brotherhood had set their plans in motion.

---

Niklaus sat back on the edge of the couch, his eyes fixed on the television as the breaking news about three hijacked flights filled the air.

The panic was almost funny, with reporters desperately trying to convey the gravity of the situation.

Yet, instead of worry, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Chaos seemed inevitable these days, and he thrived in it.

Penélope, standing nearby like a silent sentinel, glanced over at him.

She had willingly taken on the role of his attendant, though it was not something he had asked of her.

No, after she had seen his power—witnessing his transformation from a child into the powerful adult he became—something inside her had changed.

She had devoted herself to him in a way that bordered on the fanatical.

It was amusing and disturbing in equal measure, but Niklaus didn't care to question it deeply.

He had more important things to focus on.

She had put on a front of refinement and decorum, but Niklaus wasn't fooled. He saw through her.

Beneath the surface, Penélope was as twisted as the power dynamics between them had become.

But it worked for him—for now, anyway.

As the news continued, Niklaus stood, feeling the familiar stir within his body as he prepared for his transformation.

He didn't bother with modesty or the awkwardness of changing in front of Penélope.

His child form was clothed, yes, but as the shift began, the garments faded away, dissolving into nothing as his body started to grow and expand.

The air around him seemed to pulse with energy as his transformation took hold.

His limbs elongated, his torso broadened, and muscles rippled across his body.

His bones cracked and shifted, making room for the imposing figure he was about to become.

The child-like innocence fell away, replaced by the towering presence of a man who exuded raw power.

Penélope retrieved his custom-made suit, the one designed specifically to accommodate his adult form.

She approached him, handling the suit with care, her gaze fixed on his now muscular body.

There was no embarrassment or hesitation in her movements, only a strange sort of reverence.

Niklaus was not surprised by her behavior.

The suit slid over his body with ease, dark blue fabric molding perfectly to his physique.

The seven-pointed star emblem, a symbol shone brightly on his cape.

Penélope draped the black cape over his shoulders, adjusting it with precision, though her touch lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

Niklaus caught his reflection in the mirror—a powerful, blonde figure with piercing blue eyes, someone who could bend the world to his will.

There was still so much more he could achieve, if only he could free himself from the limitations that tied him down.

"Feeling like a chained god," he muttered to himself.

The power was there, just beneath the surface, waiting for release.

He felt incredibly narcissistic.

He wasn't Homelander, no matter how much of that persona seemed to bleed into him at times.

He had control. He was better than him—wasn't he?

Penélope watched him closely, as if sensing the turmoil within.

He caught her gaze and smirked, shaking his head.

"I've gained some bad traits from this isolation," he said with a dark chuckle. "Starting to feel a bit... above it all. Like I'm beyond this world."

Penélope's expression didn't change.

She simply continued with her task, straightening his cape, making sure everything was in place.

It amused him to a degree, but he knew better than to underestimate the strange bonds of power and loyalty.

Finally, as everything settled into place, Niklaus took one last look at himself in the mirror.

The seven-pointed star gleamed against the dark fabric of his cape, billowing slightly as he moved.

He grinned, a mixture of mockery and self-satisfaction in his expression.

"It's hero time," he said, voice dripping with irony.

Though, the world had no idea what kind of "hero" it was about to get.

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Stones and Reviews please