"Why are you so worked up, John?"
After the Speaker inauguration ceremony ended, Sebastian made his way to the rooftop of Vought Tower. There, tucked away in a shadowed corner, he found Homelander crouched down, quietly wallowing in his misery.
Sebastian chuckled softly.
Homelander hugged his knees to his chest, his head buried deep between them, refusing to respond.
Seeing this, Sebastian shook his head helplessly and sat down beside him.
"I know you're upset," Sebastian said calmly. "But what's done is done. You should try to look at it more openly."
At that, Homelander suddenly snapped his head up. His eyes were red, wide with disbelief and grievance.
"How can I take it calmly?!" he shouted. "They promised to support me! I clearly have more fans than you! But today—today they all betrayed me!"
As the words left his mouth, his composure finally shattered.
Tears welled up uncontrollably. His face twisted with grievance and unwillingness. He clenched his teeth, desperately trying to hold it in—but failed.
Homelander lowered his head and began to sob quietly.
Sebastian didn't interrupt him.
When the sobbing finally softened, Sebastian spoke gently.
"John… your fans didn't betray you."
Homelander stiffened slightly.
"They've always supported you," Sebastian continued. "Silently. Faithfully. Completely."
He raised his hand and flicked his fingers lightly.
A blue holographic screen unfolded in midair.
On it appeared countless images—Homelander's fans from around the world. Some were smiling. Some were crying. Some were shouting in excitement. All of them held signs filled with love, devotion, and praise for him.
Sebastian pulled up another line of data.
Support-to-vote conversion rate: 99.99%.
It meant that nearly every single Homelander fan who voted had voted for him.
Sebastian patted Homelander's shoulder and gestured toward the screen.
"See?" Sebastian said softly. "This is your influence. Your real power."
"As for those so-called 'betrayers'… they're just noise. A drop in the ocean."
"The people who truly love you," Sebastian said firmly, "will always stand by you."
Homelander stared at the numbers, stunned.
His breathing gradually steadied. He wiped the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve, his emotions finally settling.
Then he hesitated—and asked quietly:
"…What about you?"
"How many supporters do you have?"
Sebastian smiled faintly and waved his hand again.
A second holographic screen appeared.
This time, Homelander froze.
The faces displayed there were completely unfamiliar.
Men and women from different countries. Different races. Different social classes. Office workers, soldiers, doctors, parents, laborers.
They didn't wear merchandise.
They didn't hold banners.
They weren't fans.
Many of them had never even spoken about Sebastian before.
Yet every one of them had voted for him.
"How… is this possible…?"
Homelander's pupils trembled as he stared at the enormous disparity between fan count and voter support.
"These people don't even like you," he muttered. "They don't cheer for you. They don't worship you. Why would they stand on your side?"
Sebastian answered calmly.
"This is why I've always insisted on order."
"You can dominate with power—until you meet someone equal to you. Then everything collapses."
"Deep down, people don't want gods," Sebastian said. "They want stability."
"Win people's hearts, and even when you stumble, they'll still remember you. Support you. Protect you."
"When you're in danger, they'll stand up—even if it costs them their lives."
"That's what it means to win the world."
Sebastian paused, then added bluntly:
"Without that, people will abandon you the moment fear outweighs worship."
The words struck deep.
Homelander listened in silence.
"I understand now," he said at last.
He wiped his face hard with both hands, forcing the tears away. When he looked up again, the dullness in his eyes was gone—replaced by clarity.
Resolve.
He took a deep breath.
A hero… ready to begin again.
But just then—
Sebastian suddenly hooked an arm around Homelander's neck, grinning.
"Since you get it," Sebastian said cheerfully, "this is your reward."
From his coat, Sebastian pulled out a fruit that radiated an ominous, domineering aura.
"This," he said, pressing it forward, "is the Seed of Conqueror's Will. Eat it, and you'll gain true dominion."
Homelander's heart skipped.
He had always envied Sebastian's overwhelming presence.
But hesitation flickered across his face.
"…But I lost," he said quietly.
"I didn't become Speaker."
Sebastian laughed.
"So what?" he said casually. "You're my little brother."
"This is a gift from the older brother to the younger one."
Before Homelander could react, Sebastian shoved the fruit straight into his mouth and forced him to swallow it in one smooth motion.
Homelander choked.
Then—
power surged.
"Hmph!" he snorted stubbornly. "Like I even care about crap like this!"
But the grin he failed to suppress betrayed him completely.
Whether it was the power taking hold—
or the word brother—
even Homelander couldn't tell.
After the Superhero Council was formally established, Sebastian took his seat inside the newly completed Hero Building, fully immersed in governance.
At the top of his agenda stood the most critical matter of all:
The Superhero Act.
Its core purpose was simple—and ruthless.
To register, categorize, and fully analyze every known superhuman and superhero.
Abilities.
Limits.
Threat levels.
Nothing omitted.
This had always been Sebastian's true objective in forming the Council.
Superpowers were the greatest resource in the world—strange, versatile, and priceless.
And Sebastian intended to catalog them all.
He reintroduced the power grading system he had designed earlier, alongside specialized testing equipment tailored to different ability types.
The registration clause itself was accepted by the public without much resistance.
But the moment power ranking entered the picture—
the backlash exploded.
Superheroes revolted.
Fans erupted.
For the first time—
the Council faced united opposition.
And Sebastian knew—
this was only the beginning.
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