The summons came not from Mallory, but directly from Homelander. A "team briefing" in the Seven's private conference room. I walked in to find most of them already there. The air was thick with a mixture of hostility and wary curiosity.
Homelander stood at the head of the table, radiating smug authority. Queen Maeve was present, her face a mask of stoic indifference, but I could feel her simmering disgust like a low-grade fever. The Deep was preening in the corner, while A-Train slouched in his chair, pointedly ignoring me. Black Noir was, as always, a silent, unnerving statue in the corner.
"Now that we're all one big, happy family," Homelander began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "it's time for our new recruit's first official team mission. A chance to show us what he's really made of."
A holographic map of a Middle Eastern country flickered to life above the table. "This is the sovereign nation of Qarya. Their government has been... uncooperative regarding Vought's strategic interests in the region. They've been sponsoring anti-Vought propaganda and blocking our humanitarian aid efforts."
Humanitarian aid. The euphemism was laughable. This was about market penetration and political influence.
"Our intel indicates they're developing a weaponized energy source that could pose a threat to global stability," Homelander continued, the lie sliding off his tongue with practiced ease. "A covert military research facility, hidden in these mountains." A point on the map glowed red. "Our mission is simple. Infiltrate the facility, secure the research, and neutralize the threat."
"Neutralize?" Queen Maeve asked, her voice tight.
"These are hostile combatants, Maeve," Homelander said, his eyes narrowing. "They won't surrender. It's a smash-and-grab. In and out. Mazahs here will provide the 'smash.' His durability and power set are perfect for a frontal assault."
He was setting me up. Making me the blunt instrument, the face of the destruction. The "new guy" who goes in guns blazing.
"Black Noir will handle infiltration and data retrieval. A-Train will be our rapid extraction. The rest of you are on perimeter control and... crowd management." He smiled. "Any questions?"
There were none. The Seven knew the drill. This wasn't about stopping a threat; it was about sending a message. A violent, bloody message to any country that dared defy Vought.
The flight to Qarya was spent in silence. I sat apart from the others, feeling their gazes like physical weights. Maeve occasionally glanced at me, her expression unreadable. A-Train and The Deep made no attempt to hide their contempt.
We parachuted under the cover of darkness, landing in the rugged mountains. The facility was a concrete bunker built into the cliff face, heavily guarded.
"Alright, new blood," Homelander's voice crackled in my earpiece. "You're up. Make an entrance."
This was it. The point of no return. I could refuse, blow my cover, and die. Or I could participate in an act of imperialist aggression.
I had a third option.
I transformed into my Mazahs form and strode toward the main gate. The guards shouted warnings in a language I didn't understand, raising their rifles. I didn't give them a chance to fire.
I didn't kill them.
I used Graviton's power. I increased the gravity around them a thousandfold, pinning them to the ground, unconscious but alive. I didn't smash the gate; I used telekinesis to gently peel the reinforced steel apart like a banana.
"Front gate is neutralized," I reported. "Moving in."
Inside, it was chaos. Soldiers scrambled, but I moved through them like a ghost. I used my hypnotic powers not to harm, but to induce a deep, immediate sleep. I wasn't a wrecking ball; I was a tranquilizer dart. I disabled alarms, bypassed security doors with a thought.
I could hear Homelander's frustrated breathing in my ear. "What's the holdup, Mazahs? I said smash, not tuck them into bed!"
"Minimizing collateral damage," I replied calmly. "Easier to secure the asset if the facility isn't a crater."
It was a flimsy excuse, but it was all I had.
I reached the central server room. Black Noir was already there, his silent efficiency terrifying. He didn't look at me as he plugged a drive into the mainframe, downloading everything.
A scientist, an older man with glasses, tried to pull a fire alarm. I caught his wrist gently. "Don't," I said, my voice echoing in the confined space. I put him to sleep with a touch.
The download finished. Noir gave a curt nod.
"Asset secured," I said into the comms. "Ready for extraction."
We exited the facility to find Homelander hovering outside, his arms crossed. The ground was littered with sleeping soldiers. He looked... disappointed.
"You call that a neutralization?" he sneered.
"They're neutralized," I said, meeting his gaze. "The mission is accomplished. No Vought casualties. No international incident. Just a clean extraction."
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching for a challenge. I kept my expression blank, the perfect soldier.
Finally, he smirked. "Efficient. I'll give you that. But don't get soft on me, kid. Next time, I want a show."
As we flew back, I felt a grim sense of victory. I'd passed another test. I'd done the mission without taking a single life. I'd found a way to rebel within the confines of my role.
But Homelander's final words echoed in my mind. He wanted a show. And I knew, eventually, he would force me to give him one. The cage was getting smaller, and the price of staying inside was getting higher.