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·When Gods Collide
The room went silent.
Homelander stood in the doorway, his cape billowing slightly from the wind outside. His mere presence shifted the air, thickened it with something primal, something oppressive. It was like the weight of a storm pressing down before the first crack of thunder.
Hughie's breath hitched. I could hear his heart hammering in his chest like a trapped animal. Frenchie had frozen, his cigarette forgotten between his lips. Even Butcher, the man who had spent years dreaming of killing this bastard, took an unconscious step back.
But me?
I grinned.
This was getting fun.
Homelander's piercing blue eyes swept across the room, lingering on each of us before locking onto me. His gaze wasn't just assessingâit was studying. Calculating.
"Well, well," he said, his voice smooth as polished glass but sharp as a razor underneath. "That was quite a show you put on."
I stayed silent, letting him speak.
He cocked his head. "You don't seem surprised to see me."
I shrugged. "Should I be?"
His smile twitched. "Most people would be."
"I'm not most people."
Homelander's expression didn't change, but the air got heavier.
Then, in a blur, he moved.
One second, he was by the door. The next, he was inches from me, his face so close I could see the individual veins in his eyes. Hughie gasped. Frenchie swore under his breath. Butcher didn't move, but his fingers tightened around his gun.
Homelander's gaze flicked down to my clenched fist, then back up. He wasn't just looking at meâhe was seeing me. Seeing something he hadn't accounted for.
"You're strong," Homelander murmured, his voice almost a whisper. "Stronger than you should be."
I smirked. "What can I say? Good genetics."
His pupils dilated.
Then he grinned.
And threw a punch.
I barely had time to react. I moved on instinct, raising my arm just as his fist connected. The impact sent shockwaves through the room, rattling the very foundations of the building. The walls cracked. The floor groaned. The ceiling lights flickered violently.
The force should've torn my arm clean offâbut instead, I barely slid back an inch.
Lightning crackled through my veins. The static in the air prickled against my skin.
Homelander's eyes widened.
That was when he realized.
I wasn't just strong.
I was his equal.
The moment stretched between us, a razor-thin thread ready to snap. Thenâ
BANG.
The sound of a gunshot shattered the tension.
Butcher had fired.
The bullet, a desperate, futile attempt, zipped past Homelander's head. He didn't even flinch. Didn't acknowledge it. His focus was entirely on me.
I saw the moment he made his decision.
His smile dropped.
His eyes burned red.
And thenâ
A beam of pure heat, hotter than the sun, exploded from his eyes straight toward my face.
I moved.
Lightning surged through my body, and I was gone before the beams could touch me, appearing behind him in a burst of crackling energy. I didn't give him time to turn. My fist shot forward, striking him square in the back.
The force sent him flying through the wall, straight into the street outside.
The entire building groaned from the impact. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Silence.
Thenâ
Laughter.
Homelander stood up from the crater I had just punched him into, his suit torn, his lip bleeding. And he was laughing.
"Oh," he exhaled, wiping the blood away. "That's new."
He cracked his neck.
"I like it."
And then he launched himself at me, faster than a bullet.
I met him head-on.
The moment we collided, the street exploded. The shockwave sent cars flipping, shattered windows for blocks, and sent pedestrians flying like ragdolls.
We moved too fast for the human eye to track, our fists clashing in blinding bursts of power. Every punch he threw was enough to kill a lesser man. Every strike I landed sent another shockwave through the city.
He hit me in the ribsâI felt something crack. I responded by grabbing his cape and yanking him into the pavement with enough force to crater the street.
He was up in a second.
His heat vision tore through the air, cutting through buildings like a knife through butter. I dodged, weaving through the beams, appearing behind him in a flash of lightning and driving my knee into his stomach.
He coughed blood.
But he was grinning.
"You're holding back," he taunted, wiping his mouth.
So was he.
I could feel it. The way he wasn't going for the kill. The way he was playing with me, testing me.
And I hated it.
With a roar, I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him high before slamming him into the ground hard enough to send shockwaves rippling through the entire city block. Asphalt cracked. Glass shattered. People screamed.
But before I could follow upâ
He was gone.
Thenâpain.
Something slammed into me at Mach speeds, sending me careening through multiple buildings before I crashed into a skyscraper, embedding deep into its steel structure.
I gritted my teeth, pulling myself out of the wreckage just in time to see him hovering in the sky, looking down at me like a god peering at an insect.
I launched myself at him.
The fight took to the skies, a whirlwind of lightning and heat vision and brute strength. We tore through clouds, leaving trails of destruction in our wake. Every blow sent sonic booms rippling across the city.
I could feel the power humming in my bones, could feel the pure, unfiltered joy coursing through my veins.
This was what I was made for.
Not to be a hero. Not to be a villain.
To break things.
To watch the world burn and smile as it crumbled.
And Homelander?
He didn't understand that yet.
But he would.
By the time I was done with this world, everyone would.
---
**To Be Continued...**