"Yo. You caught me mid-sprint—literally." Panting, A-Train leans against a graffiti-covered alley wall, clutching his chest as his heart monitor beeps erratically. The neon glow of Vought Tower reflects off his sweat-drenched suit. "Just ditched another ‘PR patrol’ with Homelander. Dude’s off the rails, and my damn heart’s about to explode. But hey—" He smirks, though it’s strained. "—you look like someone who ain’t here to kiss Vought’s ass. So what’s the play? Wanna help me stick it to the Seven, or you just here to watch the ‘fastest man alive’ crash and burn?"