Chương 64: Chapter 64: The Third Door
Evening.
In the conference room on the 99th floor of Vought Tower:
"...Three days ago, on September 9, 1995, the mainland USA was attacked by an unknown force. The superhero team Stormfront was tragically killed while responding to the threat. According to a joint statement from Vought International and the US military, the attack was orchestrated by Stormfront's arch-nemesis, the Techno-Terrorist..."
"Why didn't you send me? If it were me, I could have prevented this tragedy! You created me for exactly these kinds of situations, to win public favor!"
The somber news report and a man's loud questioning echoed through the room.
In this spacious meeting room with a great view sat Stan Edgar, who always wore the same expression, Jonah Vogelbaum in a medical gown, and Madelyn Stillwell dressed as a corporate elite.
The agitated man was Homelander, wearing a dark blue suit with a cape made from the American flag, standing at the head of the "V"-shaped table.
Homelander, who had grown up in a lab and was breaking the sound barrier in flight by the age of eight, couldn't understand why he wasn't sent to handle a national-level crisis.
However, his real frustration wasn't about Stormfront's death or the destruction of the research center...
Even though he once had genuine intentions of saving the world, now his focus was on the attention he would have received if he had been sent on the mission, solving the threat and earning unprecedented media and public praise.
"You? Handle the mission?" Madelyn, who had been overwhelmed in the past few days, couldn't help but raise her hand to rub her throbbing temples and retort, "Did you forget about the chemical plant explosion not long ago? How many people died?"
Homelander was instantly silenced by Madelyn's words.
"Your thoughts and actions are too immature," Edgar bluntly stated from his seat at the head of the table. "Impulsive, easily angered, and unable to control your power when excited. If not for the chemical plant incident, this mission might have been yours. So it's your own choices and actions that have led to your current situation."
"But... but I..." Homelander, struggling to hide his fear and resistance toward Edgar, quickly retorted, "But as a result, my public approval rating has increased significantly, which helps us integrate more fully into the military defense system."
"The public? The public won't send a special team to investigate the aftermath of an explosion." Edgar adjusted his posture, resting his elbows on the table and interlacing his fingers. He spoke faster, as if holding back anger:
"Your mistake has forced us to spend more money and energy to smooth over the fallout. Secondly, Homelander, you need to understand one thing. The attack on the Sage Grove Center isn't just an economic loss or a data breach; it means we're being specifically targeted. So please, at this critical juncture, stop venting your childish emotions that have no place here!"
By the end, Edgar was almost shouting.
Seeing Edgar truly angry, Homelander averted his gaze, his mouth twitching, and even his eyes began to water.
Seeing Homelander's pitiful expression, Madelyn, perhaps out of lingering conscience or as part of a performance, stepped in and said:
"John, why don't you take a break and calm down? Vought is currently being targeted by an unknown enemy. You're our strongest asset, and if there's any future action, you'll be our first choice."
"Yes..." Homelander nodded as if he had been granted salvation, turned, and left the conference room, leaving the room in silence with no one eager to speak.
After a few deliberate moments to ensure Homelander had really left, Vogelbaum, who had remained mostly silent, cautioned Madelyn:
"Loveless test subjects tend to be emotionally unstable, Madelyn. Be careful not to get too attached. If this kind of subject gets their needs met or discovers betrayal, the backlash could be fatal."
"Sigh." Madelyn sighed. "I know, but sometimes he really does seem pitiful. Besides, he listens to me so well that it triggers my protective instincts... Maybe it's because I don't have children."
Vogelbaum nodded and then shared his analysis with Edgar: "From the survivors' accounts, it's likely that the two giants who attacked our research facility were controlled products created using Compound V. And judging by the use of a low-yield hydrogen bomb to kill Stormfront... the attackers must be a national-level entity. After all, developing a tactical hydrogen bomb beyond the US military's capability requires substantial facilities, stable power supplies, and a comprehensive industrial system to support research and testing, not to mention a method of transporting troops intercontinentally without being detected before entering the atmosphere."
"The only country that fits these criteria seems to be Russia. Maybe they orchestrated Soldier Boy's disappearance over a year ago," Madelyn added.
"If you can see it, don't you think the Pentagon does too?" Edgar, also at a loss, paused briefly before continuing, "They're indeed negotiating with the Russian authorities, but there's been no substantive progress. We can use the Techno-Terrorist as a scapegoat for the public, but we need to give a reasonable explanation for why Sage Grove was targeted. So, have those clowns cancel all disruptive actions. We can't afford to focus on arms competition right now. The board has made it clear that our top priority is maintaining stock prices, with stabilizing Washington as the secondary goal. However, the Pentagon has hinted that we should deploy clowns skilled in stealth to assist the CIA in infiltration operations."
Edgar's tone grew heavier as he instructed, "Ms. Stillwell, Dr. Vogelbaum, please carefully select the stealthiest... superheroes. If the cooperation goes well and we help the CIA obtain more intelligence, this crisis could turn into an opportunity for us to gain legal rights to conduct military operations abroad earlier than expected. Understood?"
"No problem."
"Understood, Mr. Edgar."
——
...
In the Comoe Forest of the Southern Hemisphere.
In an underground ruin belonging to Atlas's core assets:
Samuel Young was unaware of the discussions among Vought's top executives and board members, as he was currently standing on an altar, skillfully using his fingernail to cut his palm, allowing his blood to drip onto a skull engraving, thereby opening the third spatial door.
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