The air felt trapped between the trees — dense, almost solid, charged with tension. The wind that once rustled the leaves had now turned into an uncomfortable silence, as if even nature was afraid to breathe.
Ryan stood still in the center of the yard, his body trembling, his feet sunk into the fresh mud of the crater left by his fall. The ground steamed lightly, small cracks radiating from the point of impact.
Homelander watched him, unmoving.
The smile was still there — but something in it faltered. A shadow of uncertainty crossed his blue eyes, almost imperceptible.
It was subtle, but real.
'Why didn't he run to me ?'
'Why didn't he hug me ?'
This was a reaction Homelander was not used to receiving.
The boy he called "son" was looking at him with fear, not admiration.
Ryan felt his heart racing. His body still vibrated with the energy of what he'd just done. He could feel the heat pulsing under his skin — the same kind of power he saw in Homelander, but now it was his.
Even so, fear spoke louder.
" You…" he began, voice trembling. " What are you doing here ?"
The sound of that word — "dad" — made something inside Homelander twitch.
It was everything he wanted to hear.
But the tone… the tone wasn't love.
It was confusion. Recoil.
He took a step forward, his cape swaying lightly.
" I came to get you, Ryan," he said in a tone that tried to be sweet, but carried the suffocating weight of a command. " You've been hidden away long enough."
Ryan took half a step back.
The ground cracked under his feet, the echo ringing among the trees like a gunshot.
And then — the noise of the back door opening.
Becca.
She had heard the crash — the impact that made the ground shake — and now she was running, her heart pounding against her chest.
Her voice echoed through the yard.
" Ryan ?!"
Homelander turned his head slowly, the smile returning to his face, but not reaching his eyes.
And when Becca came into view, the world seemed to collapse.
She froze a few meters from the scene.
Her green eyes widened, her whole body stopped moving.
Her son was standing in the middle of a crater.
And in front of him, looming like a childhood nightmare given shape, was the man she feared most.
" …no." she whispered, the sound almost inaudible. " No."
Homelander smiled — that rehearsed smile, full of false tenderness.
" Becca," he said, as if saying the name of an old friend. "It's been a while."
She didn't reply.
Her eyes, tense, moved past him… and stopped on the ground.
There, on his knees, was Billy Butcher.
The man she thought she would never see again — now crouched, dirty, tired, and empty-eyed.
The figure who had once been strength and fury now looked… broken.
Becca took a step forward, hesitant.
" Billy… ?" she whispered.
He lifted his gaze slowly.
His eyes — red, sunken — locked onto hers.
For a moment, all the hardness, all the rage that had kept him alive simply… dissolved.
"…Becca," he answered, his voice hoarse and worn.
There was a second of absolute silence. None of them breathed properly.
Ryan looked between them, confusion and fear twisting in his chest.
'What's happening ?'
'Why… why today ? Why now ?'
Becca swallowed hard, trying to regain control.
She looked at Homelander — that handsome, artificial face, the same that appeared in commercials with smiles and flags — and her stomach twisted.
" What did you do ?" she asked, voice low, almost trembling.
" Me ?" he replied, brow raised in false innocence. "I just came to see my son. I thought it was time he met his father."
Becca stepped forward, instinctively placing herself between him and Ryan.
" He does have a father," she said firmly, glancing briefly at Butcher. " And you're not him."
Homelander let out a low laugh. The sound was cold.
" Oh, Becca… always with your pretty lies. You think you can erase half of him, is that it ?"
His eyes fell on Ryan, and his smile softened.
" I know you feel it, son. I know you feel it inside you. That power. That strength."
Ryan trembled. His chest rose and fell too quickly.
He knows.
Becca turned to him, hands shaking, eyes pleading.
" Ryan… don't listen to anything he says, okay ? Come here, please."
But the boy didn't move.
Fear held him in place — fear of Homelander, fear of disappointing Becca, fear of himself.
The silence that formed was almost unbearable.
Inside each mind, thoughts collided like lightning:
Homelander:
'Look at him. He's mine. The same power. The same light. Finally someone who understands… who belongs to me.'
Becca:
'My God… he found out. He found out. I should've run earlier, I should've done anything…'
Butcher:
'All for nothing. So many dead, so much blood… and in the end… she's still here. And the boy… the boy is his reflection.'
Ryan:
'I just wanted to protect her. I just wanted to be strong enough. Now he's here… and I don't know what to do.'
The wind blew hard, lifting dust from the crater.
Homelander's eyes returned to Becca. The smile vanished completely.
" You guys lied to me, Becca," he said, voice low but carrying something dangerous. " And now you want to lie to him."
Becca took a deep breath, lifting her chin.
" I lied to protect him from you."
For an instant, Homelander stood still. The smile, the expressions, the pride — all vanished.
What remained was cold. Wounded.
Butcher rose slowly, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
" If it's a fight you want, then let's end this the right way, you son of a—"
"Enough !" Ryan's voice split the air, loud, sharp… and powerful.
The sound echoed through the clearing, making the leaves tremble.
Homelander looked at him, surprised.
Becca and Butcher froze.
Ryan stood there, fists clenched, his eyes glowing faintly.
He trembled — but not with fear.
With resolve.
" You're not going near her," he said, voice trembling but firm. " None of you."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Homelander stared at him with something between pride and… discomfort.
Becca looked at him with love and terror at the same time.
And Butcher — despite being broken — let out a silent look of astonishment, as if seeing a ghost.
The wind began to change.
The leaves of the trees clattered against each other, dragged by a cold breeze that seemed to foreshadow something inevitable.
The air was too charged, like before a storm — and in the middle of that suspended silence, Butcher rose fully.
Every movement was a sacrifice.
His body shook, muscles ached, blood dripped from a cut on his temple — but his gaze, hardened by years of hatred, burned.
A feverish fire lit in his eyes as he faced Homelander.
" You shouldn't be here, you bastard," he growled, spitting blood. " Not near her."
Homelander looked away from Ryan, intrigued.
He turned slowly, that same arrogant smile returning little by little, like a mask being put back on.
" Oh, Butcher…" he murmured. " You with that cheap hatred. Look at you. You can barely stand."
Butcher stepped forward, staggering — but determined.
" At least I'm still man enough to try. "
Homelander sighed — almost theatrically — and gave a half sneer.
" And that's why you never understand. You try to fight the inevitable. You think you can hurt me ?"
He stepped forward. The ground groaned.
Becca's heart clenched.
" Billy, no…" she whispered, voice breaking. "Please, don't do this."
But Butcher didn't hear. Or perhaps he heard and chose to ignore it.
He saw only Homelander.
The source of all the pain, all the rage that had consumed him for years.
Then he screamed — more despair than strength —
and lunged forward.
Homelander didn't even move.
Butcher's fist struck his chest — the sound of bones breaking followed immediately. The impact made Butcher himself stumble back, as though he'd punched solid steel.
Homelander simply looked down, his smile gone completely.
" It's over, " he said flatly.
His hand rose.
His eyes began to glow with that warm, red tone of condensed energy — the prelude to the laser.
Becca screamed.
" No !"
And without thinking, she ran.
Ryan saw everything happen as if time slowed.
The sound of the wind dying.
The glow intensifying in his father's eyes.
The desperation in his mother's.
She was between them — Becca running toward the man she feared most, trying to stop the inevitable.
And in that instant, Ryan felt.
The metallic smell of burning air.
The taste of ozone and fear.
The heat of power about to be unleashed.
'She's going to die.'
The thought tore through his mind like a blade.
'She's going to die if I don't do something.'
And then, something inside him broke open.
The ground vibrated beneath his feet.
A deep, pulsing sound filled the air — not thunder, but something alive, coming from within him.
Homelander barely had time to turn his head before being shoved back by an invisible force.
The laser forming in his eyes veered off, hitting the ground a few meters from Becca, spraying dirt and sparks everywhere.
Ryan stood in the dust, his eyes glowing a dark red.
His chest rose and fell too quickly.
Becca fell to her knees, coughing from the impact.
Butcher stared, stunned.
Homelander recovered, flying several meters back before landing hard.
For a moment, the mask of absolute control vanished.
He looked at the boy — his boy — with something not just surprising.
Something like pride.
And maybe… a touch of fear.
"Ryan…" he said, voice lower now, tense. "You…"
Ryan interrupted him.
"Stay away from her," he said, voice firm, deeper than usual, vibrating with something that seemed to come from the very air.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Becca lifted her face, eyes glistening.
She saw there, for the first time, not just the sweet boy she taught to ride a bike — but something greater, terrifying and pure at the same time.
Homelander gave a faint, almost melancholic smile.
"It's okay, Ryan," he said, trying to calm the boy's fury. "Looks like he takes after his father, after all."
Butcher gritted his teeth but stayed quiet.
The pride Homelander tried to hide burned in his eyes.
Ryan breathed deeply, his body trembling.
He didn't know what he'd just done — only that his mother was alive, and he would protect her again, as many times as necessary.
Becca, still shaking, hugged him from behind.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
Homelander watched them.
That scene — the woman who hated him, the child who feared him — hurt more than he would ever admit.
For a moment, something human passed through his gaze.
But it vanished quickly.
He stepped back, his cape fluttering in the wind.
"We'll talk again, Ryan," he said calmly. "When you're ready to understand what you really are."
And in a nearly imperceptible motion, he grabbed Butcher again and lifted off into the sky.
The sound of air being torn apart echoed until it disappeared.
Silence returned to the clearing.
Becca was still trembling, holding Ryan tightly against her.
Ryan closed his eyes, his body still shaking.
He could feel the echo of the power running under his skin, the bitter taste of what he had just done.
'I just wanted to protect her.'
The wind blew again, carrying the smell of scorched earth.
Becca hugged him tighter, as if afraid the whole world might try to take him from her.
And for the first time since his memories awakened, Ryan realized:
It didn't matter where he came from.
He wasn't just a boy with memories of another world.
He was Homelander's son.
And, whether he wanted it or not, the world would find out far too soon.