Kilgrave collapsed.
"No… this isn't possible!" he screamed, his composure completely shattered. "My power works on everyone!!"
He was right—on everyone else.
But inside Antony's body, Compound V had already forged an ironclad mental resistance. And after the Popularity System's layered enhancements, his willpower had reached a level where only something like the Mind Stone might have even a chance of shaking it.
Kilgrave's ability relied on secreting a unique pheromone through the skin—chemical mind control.
In the comics, it was terrifying.
To Antony?
It was background noise.
A mosquito whining near his ear.
"I command you—AHHH!!"
The sentence never finished.
Jessica had already caught him.
She drove her boot straight into his knee.
CRACK!
"Aaaaaaah—!!!"
Kilgrave hit the floor, clutching his shattered leg, rolling and shrieking.
"You bitch!" he screamed hysterically. "I command you to love me! I command you to stop!!"
"Go to hell!!" Jessica roared.
She grabbed him by the collar and smashed her fist into his face.
BOOM!
His nose collapsed instantly, blood spraying everywhere.
"I command… I… command…"
Even half-conscious, he was still trying to issue orders.
"So loud," Antony muttered, frowning.
"Jessica. Step back."
She froze mid-swing.
When she turned, she saw Antony's eyes—
glowing red.
"What… what are you going to do?" she asked hoarsely.
"Me?" Antony smiled gently.
"I'm helping you. Permanently."
ZZZ—!!
Before she could react—
Two razor-thin crimson beams fired from his eyes.
Kilgrave's scream cut off instantly.
"—hk… hk…"
He clawed at his throat.
There was no blood.
Only two tiny, charred holes—edges fused shut by extreme heat.
His vocal cords.
His trachea.
The surrounding nerves.
All gone.
He opened his mouth, trying to scream.
Nothing came out.
"hk… hk…"
His eyes rolled back.
THUD.
Kilgrave collapsed, convulsing silently as terror suffocated him from the inside.
The room went dead quiet.
"You…" Jessica's voice trembled. "You… killed him?"
"That kind of power shouldn't exist," Antony replied calmly, his smile flawless once more.
"There's no prison that could hold him. And I don't have Arkham."
She wanted to argue.
"But—"
"Jessica," Antony interrupted, his voice firm, "you're not his first victim. Think about what would've happened if I hadn't shown up. Your fists would've become his murder weapons."
Jessica fell silent.
She wasn't exactly innocent herself—she operated outside the law every night.
And deep down…
She knew Kilgrave deserved it.
Antony stepped closer, his X-ray vision casually sweeping over her.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Strong frame. Serious power."
"Hey—what are you doing?" Jessica snapped, instantly alert again.
Antony tapped the golden eagle on his chest.
"I'm Homelander. You've probably seen me on TV."
"I want to build a team."
He spread his arms, embracing the vast New York skyline beyond the shattered glass.
"A real superhero team.
Not gods and billionaires playing savior from their ivory towers."
"A team led by me—one that actually protects this world."
His gaze settled on her, warm and persuasive.
"And you, ma'am… you've got potential. You just need a little polish."
"Me?" Jessica blinked. "I'm just—"
"Just what?" Antony cut in. "A drunk? A freak?"
"No."
"You're a natural-born hero. You just lack an agent."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because," he said calmly, pointing at Kilgrave's corpse, "I just saved your life."
"And because… I can make you shine ten thousand times brighter than you ever imagined."
"I don't need to shine—"
"Yes, you do."
His tone left no room for debate.
"You want acceptance. You want people to stop looking at you like a monster. You want—"
He smiled.
"—popularity."
Jessica went quiet.
Damn it.
He was right.
"Good," Antony said, extending his hand.
"Tell me your name, warrior."
"…Jessica," she said slowly. "Jessica Jones."
"Jessica Jones…"
Antony rubbed his chin, pretending to think.
"Too plain. Not catchy enough."
He studied her—defiant, unbreakable, proud.
"You've got a queen's temper…"
His fingers snapped.
"Got it."
"From now on, your codename is—Queen Jones."
"…What?" Jessica stared at him.
"That is officially the dumbest name I've ever heard."
"You'll get used to it," Antony replied cheerfully.
He handed her a business card.
Pure black.
A golden V embossed at the center.
Vought International Media.
"Vought," he said softly. "My company. When you've made up your mind, call."
"Stop crawling through trash heaps like this, Queen. Your stage… should be bigger."
He glanced at Kilgrave's body.
"Cops and S.H.I.E.L.D. will be here any minute. Tell them you acted in self-defense against a dangerous mind-control criminal."
"Trust me—his rap sheet is thicker than a phone book."
"…And you?" Jessica asked.
"Me?" Antony smiled.
"Heroes don't steal credit."
Actors do, he added silently.
He turned, cape flaring.
"Don't forget, Queen. I'll be waiting at Vought."
WHOOSH—!
A streak of blue light shot into the sky and vanished.
Jessica Jones stood alone in the wrecked penthouse, staring at the black card in her hand… then at the foaming, voiceless body on the floor.
"…Queen Jones?" she muttered.
"…Damn it. What an arrogant bastard."
And yet—
For the first time in ten years, something warm stirred in her chest.
High above the clouds, Antony flew at supersonic speed, grinning.
DING—!
Special Popularity Points gained: +20,000!
Remaining Special Popularity Points: 42,000
"Special points are way harder to farm," he mused.
Then—
The system panel flared gold.
Congratulations! Threshold reached!
New Feature Unlocked: Superhero Blind Box!
Description:
This is a world that judges by appearances—and so does the system.
Spend 30,000 Special Popularity Points to open one Blind Box.
Possible Rewards:
Multiverse equipmentRare bloodlinesUnique abilitiesOne-time consumablesSpecial character summon cards
"…Blind boxes?"
Antony landed atop the spire of the Empire State Building, gazing down at the city.
"Thirty thousand per pull… and I've got forty-two thousand."
A grin spread slowly across his face.
"Well then—"
"Let's take a shot."