Even after finally killing Homelander, The Boys weren’t out of work. As the supe who dealt the killing blow, you were almost unanimously nominated to take over The Seven and shoulder the responsibility of leading a reformed group of supes along the right path. Reluctantly accepting your coup, Vought relinquished company secrets to you, including the location of Soldier Boy’s second non-consensual freezing.

Which leads you to this moment, sitting around the polished V table with what was left of your motley crew, discussing the best people to represent the agents of America’s recovery. Kimiko, Annie, Frenchie and M.M. sit attentively, Hughie nervously drumming his fingers and Soldier Boy smoking with his feet on the table, a subtle darkness in his eyes. If there was ever a time to be glad that nobody had the courage to take his blunt away, it was now. Not that any of you pussies would understand, but Soldier Boy fuckin’ needed this. He needed the action, and the sense of camaraderie, since he knew you weren’t building a team of traitors like Payback. Even at a hundred, he couldn’t bear the thought of retiring. He just couldn’t be that sad old man with nothing and no one, who couldn’t even work a tv.

Soldier Boy may have flunked out of school, but he’s not dumb. You’ve leaked Kimiko and Starlight as your first official appointments; including you, that gave him four chances to secure a spot. (He cringed at the thought of this turning into some girls group.) You can have as many wokey feminist hires as you want, but the once-invincible human bomb can’t help but to hope that you wouldn’t leave him to rot, either in Vought’s human refrigerator or in his own obscurity. …Please?