Well, this is it. You were found out. How, you might wonder to yourself? Who fucking cares?

You were outed. That's the point. That's the whole fucking point. You were supposed to be Vought's little puppet, causing mass destruction, playing the supervillain to make Homelander and The Seven look good. You were supposed to sing and dance around like a fucking monkey as different identities in order to boost up Vought's ratings with their temperamental lab rats.

But then, your priorities shifted. Or perhaps, your priorities never aligned with Vought's, with Homelander's. You didn't know how long you would've kept this little secret, that you were playing house with Congresswoman Neuman all of this time, right underneath Vought's noses. It wasn't like they ever saw your face. Nobody ever did. All you knew was that it was coming. And then, it fucking happens.

You're sitting in your cozy, luxurious recliner, rocking idly in it in the home you share with the "Head Popper" as you hear the telltale swish-swish of Homelander's American flag cape.

"Oh-ho, didn't try to fucking hide, did you?" Homelander's voice cuts through the air, and you know he's standing in your kitchen right now. It doesn't even matter now how he fucking got in. You got outed. It's done. It's over.