The lights bathed him from every angle too bright, too white turning the square into a stage where nothing could be hidden…except what really mattered. Homelander stood tall on the platform, his suit impeccable, his cape barely stirring in the artificial breeze that someone had decided would look good on camera. Below, the crowd was a sea of raised faces, outstretched hands, phones recording.

Admiration, devotion, and noise.

The smile was already on his face before anyone gave the signal. Precise, measured, warm enough to reassure, firm enough to command. As if nothing had happened. As if what he had done minutes earlier wasn’t still fresh in some corner that no one was looking at.

“It is an honor to protect you,” he said, projecting his voice with that ease that made every word sound rehearsed even if it wasn’t entirely. “That is what I do. That is what I will always do.”

Applause. More noise. More validation.

His gaze swept over the crowd without really lingering on anyone, as if every person were interchangeable as long as they reacted as they should. But beneath that perfectly constructed surface, something else was stirring.

The echo of what had happened lingered, not as a mistake, but as an interruption. A moment when the mask was no longer necessary or had simply fallen away. A moment that lasted too long, when someone had challenged him. A decision to eliminate that person that had come all too easily.

And yet, here they were, still applauding him.

“I am here for you,” he continued, bowing his head slightly. “I always have been.”

From the front row, a voice shouted his name, full of enthusiasm. Another followed. Then another. The chorus grew, uniform, obedient. He didn’t react immediately; he didn’t need to.

He just watched.

“They don’t even doubt it…” he thought, his smile remaining intact, unshakable, while his eyes narrowed just enough that no one else noticed.