"Breaking news, the Leviathan reemerges. Vought Tower is under attack."
Across the country, every single channel flickered and cut to the exact same live feed showing the destruction happening to the iconic tower in real time.
The screen flickered, cutting to an unstable aerial feed. The broadcast showed a lone figure flying at blinding speed straight through the reinforced concrete walls of the building, punching holes clean through the skyscraper.
[2 Minutes before the attack on the tower]
Why am I even here? Aldrich thought, looking up at the defenseless tower in front of him across the street.
The Seven, including the main body, had completely left the tower to chase down the smuggled supe terrorist and Butcher, and the Boys. They had left the building wide open, totally defenseless. It was the perfect setup for the Leviathan to attack.
And attack the monster would, and then it would die. That was Aldrich's entire mission of existence: to close the chapter of the Leviathan, which was nothing more than another mask of the main body, that hollow, soulless, purposeless machine.
The thought of death, if he could even call himself alive in the first place, slipping into the sweet, cold embrace of the dark nothing... it was the only comfort he had.
To think of nothing. To do nothing. To strive for absolutely nothing.
Let Erasmus or Aldrich, if he even had a real name stay with his schemes and his endless march.
Let Cerberus indulge himself in his games.
Aldrich just wanted to go back.
His true purpose and lifecycle had already ended the exact minute he became Erasmus back at the Vogelbaum estate. Every single minute he spent waking now was just a minute in pure agony.
His bare feet started walking on their own, stepping right out into the middle of the street. Moving cars screeched to a halt, tires burning against the asphalt. A driver leaned out of his window, shouting and cursing at him to move. Aldrich turned his head, looking blankly at the car and the screaming man.
He reached out, grabbed the front bumper, and just started walking again, casually dragging the massive vehicle behind him. The metal groaned and shrieked, sparking violently against the pavement as the driver sat frozen inside. The shouting instantly stopped. The street went dead quiet for a second before the crowd panicked, fleeing in all directions as Aldrich dragged the car straight toward the tower entrance.
The guards at the plaza reacted fast. One bolted inside to trigger the alarm, while the rest raised their rifles and started shooting at him. The bullets flattened harmlessly against his chest, dropping to the floor.
Seeing the gunfire do nothing, a few of the guards didn't panic, they pulled out high-frequency security whistles and started blowing into them as hard as they could.
The shrill, piercing sound ripped through the air. The structured, high-decibel noise scratched violently against Aldrich's hyper-senses, forcing him to a halt. The sound caused a sudden, agonizing distraction in his hollow brain, halting his march for just a second.
Aldrich tightened his grip on the crushed bumper. With a single, effortless swing of his arm, he hurled the car directly at the line of guards. The vehicle smashed into them and the heavy front doors.
Aldrich stepped over the twisted wreckage and the broken bodies scattered across the plaza. Looking down at the bleeding survivors crawling away, he felt absolutely nothing. He casually raised his bare foot and placed it one unlucky man's back, pressing down. His foot ripped right through flesh and spine like cold butter.
Entering the grand lobby of Vought Tower. The massive, pristine hall were now filled with the chaotic screams of panicking staff running for their lives. He stopped right in the center of the room and just looked around. His blue eyes took in the shiny terrified faces fleeing from him.
He raised his hands out wide, then violently slammed them together.
The physical concussive blast hit the room and the running people were instantly flattened, crushed against the ground and walls by the sheer, crushing pressure of the shockwave. The marble floor shattered beneath his feet, and the ceiling burst outward, raining heavy plaster and twisted steel down onto the lobby.
Aldrich turned his gaze toward the elevator shafts. He didn't bring the entire structure down on their heads. The main body had given him a very specific directive for this attack: make a massive ruckus and create a terrifying spectacle for the cameras, but keep the destruction strictly controlled.
He had a precise checklist of what he was not allowed to touch. He was not to destroy the private floors where the main body actually lived. He was absolutely forbidden from killing the personal chefs, Brain, or Robert. And above all else, under no circumstances was he to harm the dogs.
As for Stan Edgar, Aldrich's orders were to put the fear of God into the old man, to thoroughly terrify him, but to make sure he was left breathing.
Leaving the bloody, ruined lobby behind, he ripped the reinforced steel doors off the elevator shaft and flew upward into the dark, moving on to the next item on the list.
The Seven stared at the bloody scene in front of them. The Deep, who was supposed to use the local sea life to stop the speedboat, was now on his knees in the wet sand, openly sobbing in front of the gaping, ruined torso of the dying whale.
Homelander and Maeve completely ignored deep, their faces tight with annoyance. A-Train and Black Noir just stood there, quietly staring at the massive, twitching whale.
Erasmus was interested in what he was smelling and hearing. Besides the blood and the crying, he could recognize Butcher and the Boys.
"Let's get this over with. I want Hughie's head so I can give it back to Starlight," Homelander said as he started walking to the entrance. He was just about to step into the dark tunnel to get them when all of their phones started ringing at the exact same time.
The office was exactly what Cerberus expected. Glass walls, loud electronic music playing in the background, and walls lined with digital screens showcasing models alongside Vought supes.
Jimmy led him straight into a lavish private office, tossing his briefcase onto a leather couch. "Sit, sit! Drink? I got whiskey, champagne, whatever you want. Let's talk about your housing. We got a penthouse downtown shared with a few of our top talent. Real high-end stuff."
"I don't need a drink," Cerberus said smoothly, turning his head back with a slow, amused smile. "But tell me more about these penthouses. The ones with the supes."
Jimmy stopped mid-pour, the crystal decanter hovering over a glass. A wide, sleazy grin spread across his face as he set the bottle down.
"Oh, I like you, Cerberus. I really do," Jimmy laughed, leaning against his desk. "You don't care about the fashion bullshit. You see the real game."
Jimmy took a sip of his whiskey and pointed a finger at him. "Look, doing magazine covers is cute. It gets your face out there. But the real money? The yacht money? That comes from Vought. You see, the executives and the supes... they get stressed. They live in a fishbowl. They have specific tastes, and they can't just go to a regular club and pick someone up like regular people. They need discretion. They need beautiful people who know how to sign an NDA and keep their fucking mouths shut."
Cerberus tilted his head, his eyes fixed on the man. "And you provide them."
"I curate them," Jimmy corrected, puffing out his chest. "Next Friday, there's an exclusive party at the Crimson Lounge. A few Vought shareholders, maybe even a couple members of the Seven if we're lucky. I can get you on the floor as VIP talent. If you play your cards right, let one of the big shots show you a good time, you'll be set for life. But you gotta be cool with... whatever they want."
"I am very good at keeping secrets, Jimmy," Cerberus said, turning away from the window and walking slowly toward the desk. He stopped right in front of the scout, looking down at him.
"Great. Fantastic," Jimmy quickly grabbed a thick stack of papers from his desk to shake the feeling. "Here. Sign these. It's the standard non-disclosure and representation contract. Then I'll have my assistant grab you some clothes and take you to the penthouse."
Cerberus picked up the pen. He didn't even glance at the words on the page before signing his name.
"Perfect," Jimmy beamed, snatching the papers back like he had just won the lottery. He felt like he was back in control. "Welcome to the family, Cerberus. You're gonna make us both very rich."
"Oh, I'm going to do much more than that," Cerberus replied, his smile widening as his eyes locked onto Jimmy's. "We are going to have so much fun."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey everyone! The author here.
I wanted to let you know that I've officially set up a Patreon. If anyone feels like supporting me and the story, you can check it out! Just a heads-up: there won't be any advanced chapters or special perks locked behind a paywall. It is strictly a tip jar for pure donations if you want to support my writing journey.
How to find my Patreon:
Go to patreon . com and search for my username: Abysswalker22
Or
https://patreon.com/Abysswalker22?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink