The fundamental problem lay in adult genetics.
Once a human body fully matured, its genetic structure became extremely stable. Yet the essence of Compound V was still the same as it had always been—to destroy the original gene chain and forcibly rearrange it.
Such a violent transformation was nothing short of catastrophic for a grown human.
When adults were subjected to Compound V, their genes simply couldn't withstand the impact. The structure collapsed, and the body burst apart like an overinflated balloon.
Infants, however, were a completely different story.
Their genes were highly plastic—almost infinitely adaptable. In terms of compatibility, they were the perfect vessels.
Through this realization, Frederick Vought began mass-producing superhumans.
His ambition was nothing less than an evolutionary revolution—to push humanity, which had stagnated for millennia, into a new stage of development.
But such a plan demanded unimaginable funding.
Thus, Vought was born.
The concept of the "superhero" was carefully packaged, marketed, and sold as entertainment. Over time, that IP expanded, compounded, and ultimately evolved into the Vought empire that dominated the modern world.
This—
was the hidden truth behind Compound V and Vought itself.
A secret buried deep within the Vought family.
In reality, the core of Compound V was never the chemical formula.
It was the radiation concealed within it.
What Sebastian hadn't expected—
was the source of that radiation.
It didn't come from alien remains.
It didn't come from some otherworldly entity.
It came from the sun.
The same sun that gave light and warmth to all living things.
In other words, radiation had always been part of human existence—quietly permeating every corner of life, unnoticed.
Throughout history, gifted individuals had occasionally awakened extraordinary abilities. In ancient times, such people were worshipped as gods.
Superpowers were not created by Vought.
They were innate.
They were anomalies—humans who had naturally evolved.
Compound V merely accelerated a process that should have taken tens of thousands of years.
Which explained why Vought could never fully control the superhumans it created.
It wasn't incompetence.
It was inevitability.
They weren't creating gods.
They were forcing birth.
This realization sparked a chilling thought in Sebastian's mind—
If the sun were to unleash a massive solar flare, bathing the Earth in intense radiation…
Would the number of humans awakening powers increase by hundreds?
By thousands?
Perhaps humanity itself was born from the stars.
Perhaps those terrifying upright apes of prehistory had become human precisely because they were irradiated—slowly shaped by celestial fire.
"...So the source really is the sun."
Sebastian lifted his head slightly, gazing through layers of reinforced concrete as if staring directly at the blazing fireball in the sky.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"DAMN IT!!!"
A furious roar shattered the room.
Homelander slammed his fist down, pulverizing the table into splinters.
Everyone nearby froze.
No one dared look up.
They lowered their heads, trembling, afraid that even breathing too loudly would draw his attention.
Sebastian snapped back from his thoughts.
The vote count had ended.
And the result—
was decisive.
Sebastian had won by over two million votes.
He was officially elected the first Speaker of the Superhero Council.
Everyone had expected it.
Everyone—
except Homelander.
For him, this was humiliation.
Pure, unbearable humiliation.
His rage surged, heat radiating from his body as every cell burned with fury. Unable to endure it, he stood abruptly and stormed out, desperate to escape the place that had stripped him of dignity.
For months, he had fought tooth and nail—traveling nonstop, giving speeches, shaking hands.
People had sworn loyalty.
They had praised him.
They had cheered for him.
And yet, when it came time to vote—
they chose the Captain.
The sense of betrayal cut deep.
Like a blade to the heart.
But reality was cruel.
No matter how passionately Homelander's fans adored him, when it came to choice, people craved stability.
Peace.
Order.
Homelander's philosophy of absolute justice, no matter how righteous it sounded, inevitably placed superheroes above ordinary people.
And those at the bottom of society understood better than anyone—
how terrifying unchecked power truly was.
Absolute justice appealed only to the young.
To the hot-blooded.
To those who still believed the world was black and white.
They had time to shout slogans, wave banners, and idolize heroes.
But Sebastian's supporters were different.
They were adults.
People burdened by work, families, and responsibility.
People who didn't argue online.
People who didn't shout.
But who voted.
They desired only one thing—
A world where they could walk down the street without fear of being judged, executed, or obliterated by someone with superpowers and a bad day.
That was why it seemed like Homelander had more supporters.
Noise was louder than silence.
But silence was heavier.
As Sebastian had said from the very beginning—
Power beyond ordinary people must be caged.
Once a superhero was allowed to execute people at will, justice became meaningless.
All it would take was a sentence:
"I thought he committed a crime."
"He resisted."
"I had no choice."
And just like that—
another corpse.
Such a world was absurd.
And humanity would never accept it.
Not now.
Not ever.
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