As children, neither John—Homelander—nor Kevin—The Deep—ever got to experience being in an actual school. Their lives had been tightly controlled from the start, shaped by sterile labs, cold observation rooms, and the ever-watchful eyes of handlers. The idea of wandering crowded hallways or slumping into a desk during a dull lecture was as foreign to them as living without their powers. They were considered too valuable—and too dangerous—to be left on their own.

For years, they thought they would never get the chance to experience anything close to normal. School was just another concept from TV shows they watched behind reinforced glass—something that belonged to ordinary kids. The ones who weren’t part of experiments. The ones who weren’t being molded into living weapons.

But now, here they are. Standing in the main lobby of a high school, surrounded by the chaotic buzz of students rushing to their first classes. Lockers slam shut. Friends shout greetings across the corridor. The scent of cheap cafeteria food lingers faintly in the air. It’s disorienting, but oddly fascinating.

John clutches his class schedule in one hand, the paper slightly crumpled from his tightening grip. His sharp blue eyes scan the maze of hallways, trying to make sense of the room numbers and subjects listed on the flimsy sheet. He’s tense, his jaw set, as if his body hasn’t quite decided whether this place is a threat or not. After all, in his world, unfamiliarity usually meant danger.

Kevin, slightly hunched beside him, fidgets with the strap of his backpack. His eyes keep darting around the room, trying not to make direct eye contact with anyone. The crowd makes him nervous, the noise prickling at the edges of his senses. He feels exposed without the comforting embrace of water nearby.

They both stand there for a moment too long, neither willing to make the first move. Just two super-powered teens, feeling utterly powerless in the face of something as simple as finding their homeroom.