(Logan POV)
Snow fell like ash as dawn rose over the cabin. Pale light filtered through cracks in the boards, highlighting faces drawn tight with exhaustion and fear. Last night's battle felt like years ago, yet its weight still pressed down on every breath we took. Outside, the world was changing, but inside these walls, the war felt frozen, waiting to ignite again.
Becca made tea over a sputtering stove, her eyes constantly flicking to Ryan asleep on a couch under threadbare blankets. Butcher stood nearby, face set, hands clenching and unclenching. MM cleaned his rifle by the window, gaze locked on the woods. Frenchie and Kimiko sat cross-legged on the floor, weapons laid out before them like ritual objects. Hughie and Annie sat close, reading the news on a cracked tablet.
I leaned against the door, eyes on the swirling snow. Maggie stood at my side. "Think they'll come today?" she asked quietly.
"Not yet," I said. "They're still figuring out how to spin the chaos."
Butcher's head snapped up. "They'll come. Homelander, the board, the bloody army if they have to. But until then, we plan."
The tablet Hughie held displayed headlines from every major network,
"Stormfront Confirmed Dead in Vought Facility Battle." "Compound V Cover-Up Unravels." "Is America's #1 Hero Complicit?"
Annie read aloud, voice shaking. "Congress is demanding hearings. Shareholders are pulling out. The Senate wants subpoenas for the entire Vought board." She looked up, eyes wide. "It's working. We're actually hurting them."
Grace's voice crackled through the radio, tense but confident. "They're reeling, but don't get cocky. Vought's not dead yet. Stan Edgar is still calling the shots from the shadows."
Frenchie snorted. "That man has more lives than a cockroach."
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In a dark corner office high above New York, Stan Edgar sat calmly behind his mahogany desk. Outside his window, helicopters circled and protesters swarmed Vought Tower, but Edgar's face was unreadable. Across from him, Homelander stood like a storm barely contained, fists clenched, jaw twitching.
"You don't control me," Homelander growled, voice low and dangerous.
Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. But you need me. You need Vought's brand, its resources, its reach. Without us, you're just a man in a cape with no one left to worship you."
Homelander's eyes glowed faintly red, but he didn't move. Edgar continued, voice smooth as glass. "The world is watching. You kill now, you lose everything. Let me clean this up. Let me restore what's left of our reputation."
For a moment, Homelander looked like he'd tear Edgar in half. But the glow faded. He stepped back, nostrils flaring. Edgar allowed himself a thin smile. "Good. We will regain control. But first, we need the boy."
____________________________________________________________________________
(Logan POV)
Back in the cabin, we moved like restless wolves. Butcher paced while MM coordinated watch shifts. Annie and Hughie worked with Grace over spotty radio channels, planning a campaign of leaks to keep Vought on the defensive.
Kimiko and Frenchie taught each other new signs, quiet laughter bubbling between them like a brief candle in the dark. Maggie checked her gear, hands steady even as her eyes flicked to Ryan, her thoughts hidden behind a cold mask.
I worked on the outer defenses, tripwires, snares, makeshift barricades, all while scanning the treeline for movement. Every creak of the snow-laden branches felt like a harbinger of Homelander's return.
Maggie approached, eyes tired but burning with determination. "I've been where you are," she said. "Waiting for a fight that may never come."
"It'll come," I replied. "It always does."
She stood silently beside me, the two of us watching snow fall in uneasy peace.
Grace's voice on the radio pulled everyone back to the table. "I have intel on the last major Compound V storage facility. It's off-books, hidden in an old cold war bunker upstate. If we destroy it, they can't start over. It'll be a blow they can't hide."
Butcher grinned, eyes wild. "Then we torch the place."
Hughie hesitated. "What if it's guarded? Homelander might be waiting."
"Good," I growled. "Better there than here."
Annie looked from Ryan to Becca. "We can't take them with us."
"I'll stay," Maggie offered immediately. "I can keep them safe."
Butcher hesitated, eyes torn between the boy and the mission. Finally he nodded. "Keep them breathing."
____________________________________________________________________________
Back in New York, Homelander watched live footage of protests outside Vought Tower. Banners read "No More Supes" and "Vought Lied." His lip curled in a sneer. Edgar stepped in beside him, voice smooth. "Your image can still be salvaged. We release footage of you saving hostages. You give a heartfelt interview. America loves a redemption story."
Homelander's eyes flared red. "I don't care about their love. I am their god."
Edgar's eyes hardened. "Then act like one wisely. Or you'll destroy the empire you built."
For a moment, Homelander's rage cooled. But deep inside, it only grew.
____________________________________________________________________________
(Logan POV)
We rolled out under the cloak of night, headlights off, tires crunching over snow. MM drove the lead SUV, jaw tight. Butcher sat shotgun, eyes locked on the dark road ahead. Hughie, Annie, Frenchie, Kimiko, and I filled the back. The air buzzed with nerves, every breath like pulling glass.
"This place," MM muttered. "It's suicide."
Butcher's voice was cold steel. "It's necessary."
Kimiko signed something sharp. Frenchie translated, "She says it's the only way to finish this."
I checked my claws, eyes on the white blur of the road. "Then let's finish it."
The bunker was a squat concrete fortress set into a hillside. Fences lined with razor wire cut through the snow. Guards in black armor patrolled in pairs, weapons slung across their chests. A helicopter idled on a landing pad nearby.
Frenchie set charges on the gate. With a low boom, the fence toppled inward. Kimiko and Annie led the charge. Light flashed from Annie's hands, blinding guards as Kimiko's knives found flesh. MM laid down precise fire, dropping sentries before they could raise alarms.
I tore into the first squad, claws ripping through armor, sparks dancing off the metal. One guard swung a heavy baton at my head. I let him, the blow glanced off my skull, and I drove my claws into his chest.
Hughie and Butcher slipped inside as the rest of us held the perimeter, the night filled with screams and the staccato crack of gunfire.
The halls were narrow, steel walls dripping condensation. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Rows of crates marked with Vought's insignia lined the corridors, each one filled with vials of glowing blue serum.
Hughie whispered into the comm, "Found the control room. Uploading the data now."
Annie guarded him, her light a shield against bullets and blades.
Butcher planted charges through the labs, grinning with each beep of the timer. "Burn it all," he muttered.
Kimiko signed, Frenchie nodding grimly. "She says they're trying to activate an emergency beacon."
I sprinted ahead, claws tearing down doors until I found the broadcast room. A guard inside reached for a console. I cut his hand from his wrist, slamming him into the wall. Sparks flew as I ripped cables from the machines.
Explosions rocked the bunker as we retreated through the main hall. Flames licked the ceilings, painting the snow outside in orange light. The team sprinted for the SUVs, covering each other with wild bursts of fire.
The helicopter lifted from the pad, searchlights sweeping. Annie blasted it with a searing beam of light, sending it crashing into the treeline.
We dove into the vehicles as the facility erupted behind us, a tower of fire and smoke rising into the sky.
Hours later, we regrouped at the safehouse, deep in the woods. The team was battered but alive. Kimiko leaned on Frenchie. MM cleaned his rifle. Annie and Hughie collapsed together, tears and relief mingling. Butcher poured drinks with a shaking hand.
Grace's voice came through the radio, quiet but resolute. "The footage of tonight's raid is everywhere. Vought is done. They can't hide this."
I stood outside, breathing the cold air, watching the stars. Snow fell in slow spirals. Homelander was still out there. But we'd cut him off at the knees. And as long as we stood together, he'd never break us.
Maggie stepped beside me, smiling faintly. "One day at a time," she murmured.
I nodded. "Until the last day."