As Homelander In Multiverse

Watching the Titan armor open fire toward the ceiling, its muzzle spitting flames, the chandelier shattering under gunfire, and the guests ducking with screams and panicked shouts, Arnold felt as if he were in a nightmare.

This can't be happening, he thought, his mind screaming in denial. How could something so absurd be real? This wasn't the plan! Tonight, he was supposed to be crowned as the king of the new era, not… this.

As the gunfire subsided, every guest in the hall was crouched in terror. In the midst of the chaos, Edgar, protected by Starlight and the others, stood out. So did Maeve, poised on stage, and, of course, Homelander, floating calmly in mid-air.

Inside the Titan armor, Yuri's voice crackled through the speakers, frantic. "Arnold, make it stop! What's going on? I can't control it!"

Abruptly, Yuri's voice cut off, replaced by the calm, mocking tone of "Mr. Z."

"Listen here, Colonel," the voice echoed, cold and amused. "You're the hostage here. So why don't you act like it and shut up—unless you want me to roast you alive."

The Titan armor pivoted, its gaze locking onto Homelander. Mr. Z's voice sounded out once more.

"Homelander, Olga Corporation is our common enemy. Surely you won't interfere? You're free to leave with the Vought team if you'd like, but the rest must stay behind. What do you say?"

All eyes turned to Homelander, the center of attention. He chuckled dismissively.

"First of all, if I wanted to leave, or take anyone with me, I don't think your little tin can could stop me," he said, his tone amused. "Second, I don't do negotiations. No one decides my course but me. That includes you."

Pausing, he flashed a slightly mischievous grin. "But, you seem entertaining enough. So, go ahead. Start your performance."

With that, Homelander floated over to the buffet area, ignoring the chaos. Picking up a plate, he served himself a slice of seared steak, as if he were simply enjoying the night's festivities.

Back on stage, the rest of the armor suits that had shut down earlier began rebooting one by one. But like Yuri's Titan armor, they too lost all control as soon as they reactivated.

The five Silver Raptor flying suits roared to life, taking off and swooping toward the massive water tank. Smashing into the glass, they grabbed the "Mermaid" operatives within, then soared out through a broken window.

A gust of night wind swept through the hall, sending dresses fluttering and drawing gasps from all around as chaos unfolded.

Arnold's security detail moved in, attempting to escort him out. But suddenly, several Wild Chariot ground suits swarmed in, circling the bodyguards and, with pinpoint accuracy, shot each one in the head.

Arnold was left standing in shock, his face splattered with blood.

Panic fully seized the crowd as they scrambled toward the exit, while Starlight and the others rushed Edgar into a safe corner. The remaining Wild Chariot suits and other specialized armors quickly moved to intercept, blocking the exits and holding the guests captive.

Homelander stood by the buffet table, casually picking up a glass of vodka and taking a sip. Maeve approached him, hands on her hips.

"Aren't we going to do something?" she asked, exasperated.

Homelander set down his glass, smirking. "Oh, you're interested in doing something with me?" he teased.

Maeve rolled her eyes, and Homelander chuckled. "Tonight, we're just guests. No need to steal the spotlight."

He offered her a plate. "Want some? The steak's pretty decent."

The hall's frantic energy gradually settled, replaced by a tense silence. The Titan armor turned toward Arnold as Mr. Z's voice echoed through it once again.

"Mr. Arnold, here's the situation. If you don't want anyone else in this hall to get hurt, it's simple—agree to my demand, and I'll let everyone go, including you."

Arnold took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face, attempting to remain calm. "What do you want? Money? Name your price!"

"No, no." Mr. Z's voice sneered. "I don't want your money. I want 'Project Zero.'"

Arnold froze, his face twisting in horror. "Impossible! You'll never get it! I'll never hand over Project Zero!"

From the buffet table, Homelander raised an eyebrow, swirling his vodka. "Project Zero? And what's that?"

The Titan armor tilted its head up, Z's voice resonating. "It's Olga Corporation's prototype technology, related to their armor projects. If you're interested, I'll be happy to share it with you once I have it."

Homelander shook his head, unconcerned. "Nah, that's your business. Doesn't interest me."

Arnold's eyes widened, his voice trembling as he muttered to himself. "How do you know about Project Zero? Barely five people at this company know of its existence."

Turning to the armor, he seemed to piece together a revelation, his face paling. "Jeff…? Mr. Z—is it you, Jeff?"

"Jeff? The same guy who supplied suits to A-Train's brothers?" Homelander murmured to himself, intrigued.

Silence fell for a few beats, then the voice from the armor spoke up, fury lacing each word. "Money. You think you can fix everything with money? You stole my career—my legacy! No amount of money could ever make up for that!"

"Hand over Project Zero, Arnold, or every injury tonight will be your fault!" Z's voice grew colder. "Let me demonstrate."

With that, the Titan armor fired a shot into the crowd, and a man screamed as he collapsed, clutching his bleeding chest.

The crowd screamed in terror, instinctively drawing back. But Arnold stood his ground, yelling back defiantly, "I will never hand over Project Zero to you! Never!"

"Is that so?" Jeff, or rather, Mr. Z, sneered. "Then we'll see how this plays out. If you won't give it to me, others will convince you. Powerful people in this room—or maybe even the Feds."

Homelander raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the shattered window and recalling the suits that had flown out into the night. "Seems things are getting more interesting."

From the stage, Jeff's voice rang out through the Titan armor once more, addressing the room full of powerful attendees.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for you to help persuade Mr. Arnold. If he hands over what I want, we leave immediately. Otherwise…" He paused, savoring the tension. "Well, tonight, this place will be flooded in blood!"

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