◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews.
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones. or 500 Collections
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon of which 10 Chapters are free. if you're interested: patreon.com/Heroicverse
------------------------------------------------
...He didn't know how long it had been.
Skye felt herself floating in a crimson ocean.
It was warm.
The biting cold was gone, and the sharp pain in her stomach had turned into a tingle.
She forced her eyes open.
A brilliant red light met her gaze.
It looked like living threads, wrapping around her wound, weaving together torn tissue, mending severed blood vessels.
At the source of the red light… were two hands.
One hand was long and powerful, resting gently on her chest.
The other wore a golden gauntlet set with a dazzling gem—the birthplace of the red energy.
Skye followed that hand upward.
Blue bodysuit, golden hair, and those slightly dimmed sapphire eyes.
Homelander.
He knelt beside her, brows knit, face pale.
It was a pallor she'd never seen on him, as though he were paying some enormous price.
"Mr. Anthony…"
Skye parted her lips weakly, her voice barely a whisper.
"Don't speak."
Homelander's voice was low and trembling slightly.
"I'm pulling you back. Don't move—this is… exhausting."
Skye looked at him.
She watched the red energy pour from his hand; every flicker drained another shade of color from his face.
Her heart clenched.
She didn't understand the power, but she could reason: reversing death always demands a steep price.
Anthony's appearance proved it.
"Stop… don't…" Skye tried to push his hand away, but she had no strength. "You'll… get hurt…"
"Shut up."
Homelander barked, hoarse now, his usual boom gone.
"Hold still. It's not done."
His gaze stayed intent, yet in his head another scene played out:
"These effects are flashy enough, right? A bit of sweat makes it believable?"
"Why isn't the girl crying yet? I'm giving an Oscar-worthy performance here."
"Come on, why hasn't the special popularity points arrived? System, did you lag?"
At last, seeing Homelander's "agony," Skye shed a single tear.
"Special popularity points +10 000! (From Mary Sue Potter)"
Hearing that heavenly chime, Homelander relaxed inside.
It had arrived.
He slowly withdrew his hand; the crimson radiance vanished instantly.
Homelander swayed, collapsed to the floor as if drained, and panted heavily.
"Hah… hah…"
Seeing Skye now perfectly healed, he gave a frail but satisfied smile.
"Looks like… the Goddess of Death doesn't want you yet."
Skye sat up.
She touched her stomach.
It was smooth, unmarked—not even a scar. Only the torn fabric and dried blood proved it hadn't been a dream.
She looked at Homelander beside her—the man always aloof and invincible—now seeming so fragile.
A strange feeling welled up inside her.
"Are you all right?" Skye asked softly.
"Still holding together."
Homelander waved dismissively, feigning ease, but when he tried to stand and "failed," the sight cut Skye deep.
"Why go this far?" Skye's eyes reddened. "You could've just…"
Homelander cut her off, leaning against a tree in a pose equal parts weary and cool.
"I promised you—flip that switch and I'd take you home."
"A promise is a promise, Skye. Worth any price."
The system voice chimed again.
"Special popularity points +5 000."
Haha, the pity play paid off.
Homelander finally stood and offered Skye his hand.
"And don't over-glorify me. I saved you because you're valuable."
Skye took his hand and rose.
"Valuable?" she gave a bitter laugh. "I was seconds from dying worthless."
"I've been with S.H.I.E.L.D. this long and I'm not even a Level 1 Agent."
"Coulson treats me well, but he's always on guard."
Skye lowered her head, voice flat.
The brush with death had shattered her confidence.
Homelander looked at her—time for some PUA… er, psychological guidance.
He lifted her chin gently, meeting her eyes.
"Feeling wronged?"
"A bit."
"Then you're on the right track."
Homelander's voice was soft and magnetic.
"You never belonged there, Skye."
"A lion can't find belonging in a flock of sheep."
"You feel lonely, out of place—not because you're lacking, but because…"
Homelander pointed at her.
"…you're too special."
"Special?" Skye eyed him, puzzled.
Homelander gripped her shoulders.
"You're an unpolished gem, Skye. All this is just the polishing before you shine."
"Don't let mediocre people define your worth."
The words struck straight at the longing inside her.
Raised in orphanages, rejected by foster families, she'd always searched for belonging, for the answer to "Who am I?"
Now the most powerful man on Earth recognized her from the heart.
"Thank you…" Skye's voice cracked.
"No need—consider it my investment in you."
Homelander pulled a new wrist unit from his pocket and handed it over.
"This watch has an encrypted channel."
"I've got a secret friend inside S.H.I.E.L.D.—fairly high clearance."
Use this channel to reach him."
"He'll help you, just like I do."
Skye clutched the wrist unit, mind reeling.
Anthony has a plant high up in S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Who? She didn't ask.
"I will." Skye nodded firmly. "I'll find out who I really am."
"You will."
Homelander ruffled her hair.
"All right, I've got to go."
S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here soon—I'd rather not bump into them."
"Remember, Skye." Homelander stepped past her, tilting his head to give her a resolute profile and a 50 % charisma boost.
"No matter what truth you uncover, whatever you become…"
"…I'm on your side."
Whoosh—!
Homelander shot skyward in a red-and-blue streak and vanished into the heavens.
Skye stood frozen, staring at the empty sky.
"Skye! Skye, are you there?!"
Coulson's anxious shout came from afar.
Skye snapped back to reality.
She carefully fastened the watch around her wrist.
Then answered loudly,
"I'm here, Coulson."
Her voice was eerily calm… New York. Homelander returned to his office and poured himself a glass of milk.
The stunt had cost a sliver of energy, but the payoff was huge.
Skye's thread was secured.
Once the Terrigen Crystal appeared, the awakened Quake would be a top lieutenant under his command.
And of course, the Inhumans… Meanwhile,
Pietro Maximoff lay on a soft king-size bed, clutching the latest game controller, mashing buttons at a 100-inch TV.
Life as Quicksilver was perfect.
He had fame, money, countless fans.
Yesterday he'd picked up a Ferrari—not as fast as him, but the G-force still felt great.
Beep—
Suddenly his phone on the nightstand buzzed.
Not the usual SMS tone.
A unique frequency only he would recognize.
Pietro's fingers froze.
His game character, now unattended, was executed by the boss.
Game Over.
Pietro set the controller down and slowly picked up the phone.
It was an encrypted text from an unknown number.
The message was a single line of garbage characters.
But in Pietro's eyes the scrambled symbols rearranged themselves into a single command.