Tony left, but Steve stayed behind.
"Do you have anything else planned tonight?" Steve asked. "This kind of atmosphere… doesn't really suit me. Maybe we could go somewhere quieter, grab a drink?"
"Sorry, Cap," Antony replied smoothly. "I've got an interview on The Tonight Show."
"A talk show?" Steve frowned. "That kind of… entertainment program? Are you sure? They tend to ask some pretty… strange questions."
"I know," Antony said with a smile. "But people have a right to know their heroes, don't they? Steve, we can't hide behind masks forever."
Steve thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"…Maybe you're right."
Ding!
Special Popularity Gain +2000!
Antony thought to himself: Getting the old popsicle's approval isn't that hard after all.
After finishing the charity gala—where he casually donated a hundred million dollars and harvested another massive wave of popularity—he didn't linger. Moments later, he shot back into the night sky, heading for his next stage.
He understood branding better than anyone.
"Damn it…" Tony Stark muttered, watching Antony's retreating silhouette as he downed another glass of champagne. "I hate that guy. I swear, one day I'm building an anti-Homelander suit and rubbing that stupid smile into the pavement."
"You may have to get in line, Mr. Stark."
A cool female voice sounded behind him.
Natasha Romanoff approached, martini in hand, her gaze fixed on the same vanishing figure.
"Oh look, it's my favorite redhead," Tony smirked. "What, you want to rub him into the pavement too?"
Natasha ignored the joke. "Fury's assessment is out. He's dangerous. More dangerous than Loki and Hulk combined."
"Dangerous?" Tony scoffed. "Nah. He's just a glory-hungry narcissist."
"Tony," Natasha said flatly, "he's too perfect. And in this world… nothing is perfect."
She took a sip of her drink, lipstick leaving a faint mark on the rim.
"Unless," she added softly, "he's acting."
…..
"…Welcome back! Tonight's guest—honestly, I never thought we'd get him! Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise for—Homelander!!"
The studio of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon erupted. Cheers, screams, thunderous applause—enough to lift the roof.
To the sound of heavy rock music and a tidal wave of adoration, Antony strode onto the stage in his pristine, indestructible suit, wearing that flawless, all-American smile.
"Whoa! Whoa! Please—have a seat!" **Jimmy Fallon fanned himself dramatically. "My God—Homelander! In my studio! This is insane!"
"Thank you, Jimmy. I'm really happy to be here," Antony said, sitting down with effortless grace.
"No, no, thank you," Jimmy shot back, pounding his chest. "Seriously, man—this outfit. Do you just… dress like this all the time?"
"Well," Antony chuckled, flashing a shy, boy-next-door smile, "yeah. It's comfortable. And, you know—always ready for work."
The audience laughed warmly.
"Work! I love that!" Jimmy laughed. "You work by catching criminals. I work by catching guests. So—here's what everyone wants to know."
Jimmy leaned in conspiratorially.
"Can you actually fly? Or is it like Stark—thrusters and tech?"
"Well…" Antony glanced at the ceiling.
Then—right in front of the cameras—he slowly… lifted off the couch.
His feet rose half a meter into the air, his body hovering effortlessly.
The studio exploded.
"OH MY GOD!!!"
"He's really flying!!"
"That's insane!!"
Ding!
Popularity +541!
Popularity +632!
Antony gently floated back down and shrugged. "Honestly, it's great for avoiding New York traffic."
The place roared with laughter again.
"Wow," Jimmy said, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "You're officially the first guest who's ever floated on this show. That's unreal."
"We all know you're Antony Starr," Jimmy continued. "You survived that terrible boating accident, vanished for a year… and now you're back as a hero. Can you tell us—what happened during that year?"
This was straight out of Vought's carefully prepared script.
Antony's expression shifted—just enough confusion, just enough resolve.
"Jimmy… honestly, a lot of it is still blurry."
"I remember the cold water. I thought I was going to die. But… I lived. And I was left with this 'gift.' Or maybe… this curse."
He leaned into the silence.
"It took me a long time to control it. I didn't dare come back. I was afraid… afraid I was a monster."
The studio went quiet. The camera zoomed in.
"Until the Battle of New York," he said, voice steady and deep. "I saw the hole in the sky. I saw people crying. And in that moment—I understood."
"I came back to protect them."
"…Wow," Jimmy breathed. "You're not a monster, Homelander. You're an our guardian."
Ding!
Popularity +1245!
Popularity +1058!
Popularity +1178!
Antony let a touched smile bloom on his face.
"Thank you, Jimmy."
The interview was a massive success.
Overnight, Homelander became America's sweetheart—approachable, charming, heroic, funny.
Vought immediately followed up with the next PR move: a reality-style visit to children who had lost family during the invasion.
Which led him to St. Agnes Children's Hospital.
This place housed many kids injured during the Battle of New York.
The director rushed forward, visibly emotional. "Oh, Mr. Homelander! Your visit is truly… a blessing from God."
"It's the least I can do," Antony replied warmly.
He entered the activity room. The children stared at him—awed, reverent, and a little scared.
His gaze swept the room.
Then he spotted her.
A thin little girl in the corner, wrapped in a blanket. Though months had passed, she clearly hadn't escaped the trauma. She clutched a brand-new Homelander action figure to her chest.
Antony's actor's instincts locked on instantly.
There you are.
He knew exactly what to do.
Slowly—deliberately—he walked over.
He didn't speak.
He simply crouched down, lowering his imposing frame until he was at eye level with her.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked softly, his voice gentle enough to melt ice.