As Homelander In Multiverse

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[Black Tyrant PLUS]

Description: The upgraded version of the Black Tyrant exosuit. Enhanced in material, power, and weaponry, this iteration is a deadly single-soldier weapon.

[Specifications]:

Height: 2.12 meters

Arc Reactor, Generation IV

Anti-gravity propulsion system

Synthetic muscle fibers

Soft alloy cape

Gravitational grenade launcher

Wrist-mounted laser cutter

[Cost]: 20 Proficiency Essences

Similar updates were listed for other suits like Savage Gladiator PLUS and Immovable Bastion PLUS.

Homelander browsed through the new items in the system shop and shook his head. These upgrades weren't particularly useful unless he wanted to build a personal squad of exosuit soldiers.

He already had the Tyrant suit, which far surpassed these toys in power.

Shutting down the shop menu, Homelander soared into the sky, leaving a golden trail behind him as he streaked toward his destination.

In mere moments, the St. George Military Medical Center came into view.

Homelander landed directly outside the hospital entrance, startling everyone around.

For a moment, the crowd froze in shock, but soon enough, the whispers turned into excited cheers.

"It's Homelander!"

"Homelander is here!"

Doctors, nurses, patients, and passersby swarmed toward him, surrounding him with eager faces.

Inside the hospital lobby, a team of AAB News journalists spotted the commotion. The lead reporter turned to their crew.

"Hurry! Homelander's here. Let's get an exclusive!"

They rushed out and pushed through the crowd, stopping right in front of him. The reporter thrust a microphone forward.

"Homelander, what brings you to St. George Military Medical Center today?"

Homelander offered a warm smile. "I'm here to visit Private Second Class Levin Goss."

"Did you learn about his situation from the news?"

Homelander nodded and walked toward the hospital doors. By this time, Ashley had finally arrived, trailing behind him in a flustered rush.

The reporter pressed on. "Some critics have pointed out that you were already in Manhattan last night but only acted later. They believe you could have intervened earlier and prevented greater damage. What's your response to that?"

With his hands clasped behind his back, Homelander chuckled softly.

"Ah, I imagine the people saying that are the same ones who call me a 'cape-wearing menace.' Those folks are never satisfied, are they?"

He shot a playful smile at the camera.

"Besides, let's not forget—someone said this kind of crisis should be handled by professionals. I agreed, so I waited."

Homelander raised a finger and winked at the camera.

"At first, I even thought it might be some kind of live-action simulation, a joint venture between Olga Corporation and the military."

"Wouldn't it be rude to interrupt a show like that?"

He spread his arms in mock exasperation.

"It wasn't until the federal government contacted me directly that I realized the situation was serious. Who would've guessed Olga's prized AI suits could be hijacked so easily?"

Homelander leaned slightly toward the camera, his voice dropping conspiratorially.

"I was hoping to retire, you know."

With that, he arrived at Levin's hospital room. Homelander rapped lightly on the door before stepping inside.

Levin lay in his hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. When he heard the door open and saw Homelander, his dull gaze suddenly lit up.

"Homelander?" Levin's voice quivered in disbelief.

Homelander nodded slightly, scanning the young soldier's condition. As the reports had said, Levin was crippled.

Walking to the bedside, Homelander clasped his hands behind his back and sighed.

"I won't insult you with empty platitudes like, 'You're the real hero.' Those words won't help you walk again."

Levin blinked in surprise.

"But," Homelander continued, "I will ensure you receive the best medical care possible. We'll do everything to improve your condition."

Tears welled up in Levin's eyes. His hands trembled as he reached out. Homelander took them firmly.

Click. Click. Click.

The room was suddenly filled with the sound of cameras. Several reporters had entered and were snapping away.

One journalist stepped forward. "Homelander, isn't it Queen Maeve's responsibility to visit Levin? After all, he was injured because of her actions."

Another chimed in, "Homelander, many civilians have been harmed by superheroes over the years. Some have even died—like that recent incident with A-Train hitting a pedestrian. Shouldn't superheroes be held accountable and apologize to those affected?"

Homelander turned to face the reporters, his expression calm and poised.

"To answer your first question, I'm not here on Maeve's behalf. I'm here as myself."

"As for Maeve," he continued, "she's currently injured and unable to leave her bed. I'm sure she'd be here if she could."

Turning to the second reporter, Homelander's smile deepened.

"Do apologies fix problems? I think not. Action speaks louder than words."

"So today, I'm announcing that Vought International will establish a dedicated fund to support those harmed by superheroes. This will ensure they receive the help they deserve."

He gestured toward Levin. "Private Goss will be the first beneficiary."

In the corner of the room, Ashley's jaw dropped.

A fund? Since when? Did Vought approve this? Did Edgar?

Her thoughts spiraled, but Homelander's confident demeanor gave no indication of concern.

---

Chinatown, that evening.

In Lin Aida's apartment, the TV replayed footage of Homelander's hospital visit.

The sunglasses-wearing Lin Aida remarked, "Homelander is such a good person."

Homelander, sitting nearby, shot her an incredulous look.

Good person? Is she handing me a "nice guy" card? What did I ever do to deserve that?

His gaze drifted to the table, where a lone egg tart remained. Deciding not to waste food, he reached out for it.

Lin Aida's sharp hearing caught the movement.

"The egg tart's cold. Let me heat it up for you," she offered.

Homelander leaned back, amused. "You could just warm it in your hands. Maybe add a little extra flavor?"

Lin Aida paused. "Extra flavor?"

Realizing the implication, her face flushed crimson.

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