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Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
The bullets from the submachine guns ricocheted off Roger's armor. So stray rounds even grazed his cheek, yet they didn't leave so much as a scratch, not even disturbing the faint stubble on his face.
Human weapons were nothing more than toys to Roger now. No matter how advanced the weaponry—even a high-yield nuclear bomb—it was just a bigger toy in his eyes.
"You guys managed to get your hands on this much restricted weaponry? Looks like you've got so backing in the shadows," Roger remarked casually as he strolled through the underground base, systematically dismantling the ard forces stationed there.
The way he "dismantled" them was simple: walk up, throw a punch. Even if his targets didn't die, they'd be unconscious in an instant.
Pitting mortals against a godlike being like Roger was sheer folly. These people weren't Tony Stark, and their inevitable fate was complete annihilation.
"Oh, stalling for ti, are we? Hmm?"
As Roger took out the guards outside and continued advancing deeper into the base, a sudden cluster of white bone spikes slithered out like venomous snakes from a wall, lunging toward him!
Roger didn't dodge. His reflexes allowed him to swiftly grab several of the spikes aid at him. He turned his gaze toward their origin.
It was a black-skinned superhuman, whose back was lined with multiple white bone tails, writhing like a grotesque appendage.
At that mont, the bone tails were firmly in Roger's grasp.
"A superhuman, huh? Looks like you're one of Vought's trump cards… or maybe just one of many," Roger mused.
The bone-tailed man didn't respond. Seeing his tails caught, he quickly severed them and instantly regrew new ones, launching another attack at Roger.
"They can regenerate? Now, that's a neat trick."
Roger's eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if he had just found a new toy. In a flash, he dodged the bone-tailed man's strikes and charged toward him at lightning speed.
Bam!
Roger moved so fast it looked like teleportation. He appeared in front of the bone-tailed man and smashed him into the wall with trendous force.
The once-aggressive attacker was now embedded in the wall, bloodied and barely breathing, clearly on the verge of death.
Roger smirked slightly and quipped, "Oops. I thought you could regenerate other parts, too. My mistake… not that you can hear anymore. Let's move on."
Having dispatched one of Vought's superhumans, Roger continued his advance.
...
More superhumans erged from the shadows as if they were disposable.
There were those who emitted sonic waves from afar, others who compressed air into projectile blasts, and even one who rged with walls and manipulated the earth.
These diverse powers broadened Roger's perspective. He hadn't expected Vought to still be capable of producing so many superhumans, even while being hunted by both the governnt and superheroes.
Reflecting on the advanced weaponry Vought had used earlier, Roger deduced that they must have clandestine supporters in the governnt—perhaps drawn by Vought's pharmaceutical capabilities or their ability to create superhumans.
Either way, Vought clearly had powerful backers. Otherwise, they wouldn't have lasted this long.
"If that's the case, why not stay hidden like rats in the sewer? I just wanted a quiet few days to rest," Roger sighed, his tone full of exasperation.
The world of The Boys had always been Roger's sanctuary, a place he retreated to when he was exhausted. If Vought had simply laid low, he wouldn't have bothered with them. But they just had to provoke him at the worst possible ti.
Did they really think Roger wouldn't kill them?
Roger wasn't trying to be Superman. He knew he wasn't cut out for that role. If Vought thought he would hesitate to kill for the sake of maintaining his public image, they were gravely mistaken.
"Alright, what else do you have? Bring it on," Roger said as he advanced further into the base.
But no new enemies appeared. The entire base grew eerily silent, so quiet that even Roger, with his super hearing, could detect no sounds.
"That's odd," Roger muttered, suspecting Vought had deployed so kind of technology specifically designed to neutralize his abilities.
...
Suddenly, light footsteps echoed from the hallway ahead. Based on the weight, it was likely a woman, and she was alone.
Another superhuman? Roger thought skeptically. Sending just one after all the others had failed seed futile.
But as a familiar attack streaked toward him from around the corner—a white beam of light—Roger imdiately understood why Vought had sent only one person.
Roger sidestepped the beam with ease, his pupils narrowing as he turned toward the source.
A woman clad in a suit of white and orange, adorned with star motifs.
It was Starlight.
But sothing was off. Her eyes lacked any spark of life, and her gaze was hollow, as if she were nothing more than a puppet on strings.
"Starlight?" Roger called out, frowning. He quickly realized she was being controlled.
Before leaving this world, Roger had known that it lacked any telepaths capable of altering consciousness. Yet now, Vought had apparently developed a mind-controlling superhuman.
Was this their trump card?
At the sound of his voice, Starlight's empty gaze flickered briefly with emotion—but the change was fleeting. In a burst of radiant light, she scread, "Ahhhhh!" and unleashed a barrage of blinding beams, each as fast and fierce as machine gun fire.
Roger frowned deeper, charging straight through the onslaught and appearing before Starlight in the blink of an eye.
"Annie! Calm down!" he shouted, though his actions contradicted his words as he grabbed her head and slamd her into the wall.
Boom!
The sheer force left a massive crater in the wall. Starlight, however, did not lose consciousness. She thrashed like a wild beast, emitting incoherent screams and firing erratic blasts of light.
Roger's expression darkened. He glanced coldly toward the hidden Vought operatives before lifting Starlight into his arms and blasting upward.
He tore through the base's infrastructure, erging into the open air with Starlight in tow.
His patience was at an end. Now, Roger planned to do two things:
First, use his heat vision to obliterate everything in the vicinity.
Second, take the crazed Starlight sowhere far away from any electricity.
Without access to electrical energy, she wouldn't be able to generate her beams. Her other abilities wouldn't harm her body, so even in her frenzied state, she would be manageable.
However, just as Roger broke through to the surface, an enormous tallic slab appeared above him, blocking his escape.
To Roger's surprise, as the slab descended, he felt his powers weaken.
"A material that suppresses abilities?" Roger muttered. "Vought's research, huh… not surprising."
Despite his abilities being diminished, Roger remained composed, analyzing the situation.
The slab must have been transported here by a superhuman with teleportation powers. Its composition seed tailored to suppress those who had gained powers from Compound V.
No, this suppression felt too targeted. Was this specifically designed for ?
"Good thing I called for backup… Thor!" Roger bellowed.
Thor had been waiting nearby with other heroes, ready to intervene at a mont's notice.
Hearing Roger's call, Thor hurled his massive axe from above. The weapon cleaved through the tallic slab with ease, the heat from its lightning charge lting the edges into molten slag.
As the slab split apart, Roger flung the frenzied Starlight into the air. Thor descended, catching her mid-flight, and steadied himself with the rebound force of his axe.
"Roger! What's wrong with Starlight?" Thor began, but Roger cut him off.
"Don't ask questions. Just take her sowhere without electricity!" Roger commanded.
"Without electricity?!" Thor glanced at the crackling energy of his axe. "That might be tricky!"
Despite his words, Thor understood the urgency. Without further hesitation, he carried Starlight and flew off in search of a suitable location.
anwhile, the rest of the superheroes had arrived on the scene—Queen Maeve, Kimiko, A-Train, and other current mbers of the Super League, all ready for battle.
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