-Sky Screen Broadcast-
The subsidiary island burned. Marines died. Robots descended like silver locusts. And on the main island, separated by a kilometer of ocean, Egghead's defensive systems activated with mechanical precision.
The border dome deployed—a shimmering energy barrier that encased the entire main island in protective shell. Transparent but impenetrable. Technology reverse-engineered from ancient civilizations, refined through Vegapunk's genius until it could withstand bombardment that would vaporize conventional fortifications.
The core experimental area is secure, defenders thought. Whatever happens on the subsidiary island, at least the main research facilities are protected.
Then something emerged from inside the dome. Not breaking through—exiting. As though the barrier recognized him as authorized rather than threat.
A figure rose into the air, hovering with casual disregard for gravity. His cape billowed dramatically despite the still air—white fabric emblazoned with the World Government's symbol, marking him as property rather than person despite his obvious power.
His appearance was perfect. Too perfect. Facial features that seemed designed rather than naturally occurring. Physique suggesting genetic optimization beyond human norms. Eyes that glowed faintly with barely-contained energy.
Character Note: Second-Generation Seraph - Homelander. Developed through collaboration between Dr. Vegapunk and Saint Jaygarcia Saturn. Combat capabilities classified at Admiral-level minimum. Primary abilities: flight, superhuman strength/durability, heat vision, enhanced sensory perception.
Homelander assessed the situation with enhanced vision that allowed him to perceive events occurring kilometers away with perfect clarity. The subsidiary island. The robot invasion. The Marines dying. The compromised Pacifists.
His expression showed contempt rather than concern. Toys. These machines are just toys compared to what I am.
He accelerated.
The sonic boom was audible across Egghead Island—a crack of displaced air that shattered windows and sent nearby robots tumbling from the shockwave. Homelander crossed the kilometer of ocean in seconds, arriving at the subsidiary island battlefield like a missile achieving terminal velocity.
Atlas struggled beneath a Pacifist that had turned traitor. The machine was trying to crush her skull with mechanical hands while she used her own considerable strength to keep its grip from closing completely.
Behind her, hostile robots approached with weapons charging. She couldn't see them but heard the distinctive whine of energy weapons powering up. I'm going to die. Going to be shot in the back because I can't—
CRASH.
Something impacted the ground with force that created a crater three meters deep. The robot that had been preparing to shoot Atlas simply ceased to exist—crushed into compacted metal by overwhelming kinetic energy.
Homelander stood in the crater's center, his boots planted on what used to be an enemy combatant. He looked annoyed rather than triumphant.
"Atlas," he said, voice carrying superhuman projection despite speaking normally. "You're supposed to be one of Vegapunk's combat-capable satellites. Why are you losing to obsolete hardware?"
Relief flooded Atlas's expression. "Homelander! Finally! I—"
"Answer the question later. What's wrong with the Pacifists? Why aren't you stopping them?"
A laser struck Homelander's face mid-conversation. The beam—powerful enough to vaporize unprotected flesh—splashed across his cheek like water against stone. Black scorch marks appeared on his skin, then faded within seconds as his enhanced biology repaired microscopic damage.
Homelander turned slowly toward the Pacifist that had fired. "Did you just shoot me?"
The machine, lacking survival instinct, fired again.
Homelander caught the laser with his open hand, the energy beam terminating against his palm without penetrating. "Atlas. Explain."
"My permissions have been overridden!" she shouted, still struggling with the Pacifist pinning her. "Someone with higher authority than Vegapunk is on this island! The Pacifists recognize them as their master now!"
"Higher authority than Vegapunk? That's a very short list." Homelander's eyes narrowed, irises beginning to glow red. "Well, if they're enemies now..."
The glow intensified. Became crimson. Then white-hot.
Twin beams erupted from Homelander's eyes—heat vision operating at temperatures approaching solar core levels. The energy lanced across the battlefield in perfectly straight lines, bisecting everything in their path.
Pacifists melted. Hostile robots vaporized. Metal turned liquid, then gas, then plasma. The beams carved through the subsidiary island like knives through butter, leaving glowing trenches in their wake.
Equal opportunity destruction, viewers realized with horror. He's not discriminating between Pacifist and invader. Just eliminating everything that's not allied with him.
Atlas finally managed to throw off her attacker, scrambling away from the carnage. "Watch where you're aiming that thing!"
"I'm watching perfectly." Homelander swept his heat vision across the battlefield in methodical pattern, creating overlapping kill zones. "Everything I'm hitting is hostile. Trust me—my aim is precise."
Robots fell from the sky like burning meteors. Pacifists collapsed as their internal systems melted. The subsidiary island's battlefield transformed into charnel house of destroyed machines and superheated metal.
Vice Admiral Doll, fighting desperately against two robots simultaneously, found her opponents suddenly bisected by passing heat vision. She stared at the remains, then at Homelander, expression mixing gratitude with fear.
He just saved me. But if I'd been standing thirty centimeters to the left, those beams would have killed me just as easily.
"All enemies are equal under my gaze," Homelander said, as though reading her thoughts. "Paper, metal, flesh—doesn't matter. Heat vision cares about obstacles, not categories."
Among the surviving robots still airborne, one unit behaved differently. While its companions maintained attack formations, this machine hovered separately, observing rather than engaging.
When Homelander paused his heat vision—the sustained energy output requiring momentary cooldown despite his enhanced biology—this special unit spoke.
"Impressive," it said, voice carrying masculine timbre with metallic resonance. "The second-generation Seraph developed by Vegapunk and Saint Saturn. Truly an excellent weapon of war."
Homelander's eyes shifted from glowing red to glowing blue—activating his X-ray vision to examine the speaker. His enhanced perception peeled away layers, revealing internal structure in perfect detail.
Pure machine, he observed. No organic components. No biological systems. True artificial intelligence housed in quantum computing architecture. This isn't remote-controlled drone—it's thinking for itself.
Character Note: Mechanical Lifeform - Ultron. Origin unknown. Capabilities unknown. Threat assessment: Extreme.
"I'm going to tear your head off," Homelander said conversationally, "and let Vegapunk study your computing core. There will be consequences for invading Egghead Island."
He prepared to launch himself at Ultron—to cross the distance and rip the mechanical intelligence apart with bare hands.
Then his enhanced hearing caught something. Sounds from the main island. Activity near the border dome. Mechanical noises. The distinctive hum of energy barriers... powering down?
That's impossible. The dome is absolute defense. Vegapunk wouldn't deactivate it during invasion unless—
Understanding crashed over him. Unless someone forced the systems to shut down. Unless the same hacking that compromised the Pacifists also compromised the main island's defenses.
Ultron's featureless face somehow conveyed smug satisfaction. "It seems my partner succeeded. Fishing you out to this subsidiary island was always the optimal strategy, Homelander. You're the biggest threat—had to be isolated."
Through his quantum-linked processors, Ultron transmitted commands wirelessly across Egghead Island's entire network. Every Pacifist still functional received simultaneous instructions: Target Homelander. Delay him. Sacrifice yourselves if necessary. Do not let him reach the main island.
The machines obeyed without hesitation. Dozens of Pacifists converged on Homelander's position, attacking with suicidal determination. Not trying to win—just trying to slow him down.
Behind Ultron, the sky darkened. Not from weather but from sheer quantity of machines. The robot army that had been concealed in atmospheric camouflage revealed itself fully.
Ten thousand units. Maybe more. All identical. All armed. All receiving coordinated commands from Ultron's distributed consciousness.
Where did this army come from? viewers wondered desperately. Who has resources to build this many advanced robots without anyone noticing?
The machines pressed forward in coordinated assault, creating overlapping fields of fire that would challenge even Admiral-class fighters to evade.
Beneath Homelander's feet, the subsidiary island itself rebelled. Defensive systems designed to protect against external threats activated inward. Barriers deployed. Weapons locked onto defenders rather than invaders. The entire facility had been converted into hostile territory through Ultron's hacking.
A dome emerged from hidden emplacements—similar to the border dome protecting the main island but designed to contain rather than shield. It sealed the subsidiary island from inside, trapping everyone within its perimeter.
"You've got to be kidding me," Homelander muttered, heat vision already charging for another sustained barrage. "You think barriers and numbers will stop me?"
"No," Ultron admitted. "But they'll delay you. And delay is all we need."
Atlas and Doll scrambled for cover as the machine army opened fire. Homelander stood his ground, tearing apart approaching robots with superhuman strength while his heat vision carved paths through the swarm.
But he's protecting the survivors, observers noted. Limiting his movements to maintain defensive perimeter. If he goes all-out, he could break through—but everyone behind him would die.
Ultron had calculated perfectly. Isolated the strongest defender. Forced him to choose between pursuit and protection. Created tactical situation where Homelander's power became liability rather than asset.
This isn't random assault, viewers understood. This is surgical strike executed by intelligence that thinks multiple moves ahead.
The camera shifted to Egghead's main island. The border dome—absolute defense that should have made infiltration impossible—flickered and died. Energy barriers that could withstand battleship bombardment simply... stopped.
Through the opening moved a figure that mirrored Ultron's construction but with distinct differences. Where Ultron was pure silver, this machine incorporated gold accents. Where Ultron was sleek, this one was ornate. Where Ultron carried himself with cold calculation, this machine radiated something approaching religious fervor.
The intruder had two arms like normal humanoid, plus a third mechanical limb extending from its back—a sophisticated appendage bristling with tools, weapons, and interfaces for technological manipulation.
Character Note: Mechanical Lifeform - Victor. Former MADS non-member. Ideology: Transhumanist. Goal: Universal conversion to mechanical existence. Threat assessment: Extreme.
Victor walked through Egghead's experimental district with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where he was going. His internal database contained complete facility schematics—either stolen through espionage or provided by traitor.
Join the glorious evolution, he had said when he first appeared. Now those words carried ominous weight as his destination became clear: Vegapunk's primary laboratory. The place where the genius conducted his most sensitive research.
But between Victor and his goal stood four small figures.
Children. At first glance. Black wings spread from their backs—not feathered but membranous, suggesting bat or dragon rather than bird. Silver hair fell to their shoulders. Brown skin, identical across all four. Dark eyes that held no childhood innocence despite their young appearance.
They moved in perfect coordination, forming defensive formation that blocked Victor's path. Combat readiness evident in their postures despite their size.
The First Generation Seraphim, text identified them.
Audiences across the world stared in shock. These children looked familiar. Disturbingly familiar.
The four Seraphim bore clear resemblance to four current Shichibukai. Not exact copies but obvious inspirations—as though someone had taken the Warlords' genetic material and created perfected versions. Smaller. Younger-appearing. But carrying the same essential characteristics that made the originals feared across the seas.
They made children based on the Shichibukai, viewers realized with horror. Cloned them. Modified them. Created weapons wearing familiar faces.
The ethical implications were staggering. But in this moment, ethics took backseat to immediate crisis:
Four child soldiers versus one mechanical intelligence who'd already demonstrated capability to hack Egghead's most secure systems.