Vought's medical facility was a sterile, silent place. A doctor who didn't make eye touch injected me with a compound that smelled faintly of Compound V. The bones in my hand knitted back together in minutes, the pain fading to a dull ache. The healing was unnervingly fast, a reminder of the artificial nature of everything in this tower.
I was escorted not back to Mallory, but to a lavish apartment high up in the building. It wasn't a room; it was a set. Floor-to-ceiling windows, minimalist furniture, a fully stocked bar. A closet held a new version of my Mazahs costume, sleeker, more corporate. There were no personal touches. It was a gilded cage, and I was the prize canary.
My communicator buzzed. Mallory.
Debrief. My office. Now.
When I walked in, she didn't offer a seat. "Homelander's report says you're impulsive. Emotionally volatile."
"He shattered my hand," I said flatly.
"He was testing your limits. You failed. You let him provoke you." She tossed a file onto the desk. "Your public redemption arc begins tomorrow. A press conference. You will express deep remorse for your past actions, praise Vought's vision, and pledge your loyalty to global security. I've written your speech." She slid a single sheet of paper toward me. "Memorize it. Don't improvise."
I scanned the text. It was vomit-inducing. "I was lost in a darkness of my own creation… Vought showed me the light… I am committed to using my gifts for the good of all mankind…"
"They'll never buy this," I said.
"They'll buy what we tell them to buy," she replied, her voice icy. "The narrative is already being seeded. 'Mazahs: From Menace to Messiah.' By this time tomorrow, you'll be the biggest story in the world. Get some rest. You'll need to be convincing."
I went back to the apartment. I stood at the window, looking down at the city. Somewhere out there, Annie, Butcher, the others were hiding. Were they watching? Would they see me on TV tomorrow, spouting Vought's lies, and think I'd turned?
The doubt was a poison. This was the real test—not fighting Homelander, but surviving the erosion of my own identity. To beat them, I had to become them. But what if I forgot how to stop?