Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman

Did Madelyn have anything important to her?

Yes, she did.

Homelander came to the answer in less than a fraction of a second—Madelyn's biological child.

A test-tube baby.

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Homelander hesitated.

In his mind's eye, he could already see how Madelyn would respond when forced to make a choice.

"You're hesitating."

Martha immediately noticed the change in his expression. "It seems like you already know the answer, don't you?"

"I…"

Homelander mulled it over. "What mother wouldn't love her own biological child?"

"That's true," Martha said softly, gazing into his eyes. "But doesn't that make you pitiful?"

"You've poured your whole heart into her, yet all you've received in return is the leftover scraps of her affection."

"Do you think that's enough?"

"Or do you believe you're only worth that much love?"

Of course it wasn't enough!

Martha's words were like a bolt of lightning, clearing the fog in Homelander's mind.

For the first time, he truly saw how small and pathetic he'd been.

This wasn't how things should be.

He was Homelander, the most powerful superhero in the world, a man of destiny born to greatness.

Someone born to be extraordinary had no reason to be humble in love.

Madelyn? She was nothing!

"I see it now!"

Homelander stood abruptly, his gaze resolute and ominous.

"I've been looking at this all wrong. The power to choose was never Madelyn's—it's mine!"

"Do what you need to do, child," Martha said softly.

Without another word, Homelander turned and left, his decision made.

This time, Madelyn would only have one choice.

Choose wrong, and she would die.

---

A black sedan pulled up to the driveway of a luxurious mansion. Madelyn stepped out of the car.

"Good night, Ms. Stillwell."

"Goodbye, Bower!"

After bidding her driver farewell, Madelyn entered her home.

"Maria," she called out to the nanny, "Maria, I'm home."

The house was eerily silent. No one responded.

The quiet unsettled her, a faint sense of unease creeping in.

Before she could react further, a voice emerged from the darkness.

"Your child is sleeping soundly."

Madelyn instantly recognized the voice, but instead of feeling relief, her fear only deepened.

"Homelander?"

She forced a smile. "Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"

Homelander stepped out of the shadows, cradling a peacefully sleeping baby in his arms.

Madelyn's smile froze on her face.

"Look," Homelander said, his tone deceptively gentle, "he's sleeping so well, and I haven't harmed him."

He tilted his head. "Why is your heart racing, Madelyn? Does seeing me scare you?"

Madelyn struggled to maintain her composure.

"It's because I thought there was an intruder in my home," she said, her voice tight. "I'm still recovering from the shock."

She extended her hands cautiously. "Come on, give me the baby."

Seeing her outstretched arms, Homelander felt an unexpected wave of disgust.

This is the woman I was obsessed with?

She was nothing compared to Martha.

Martha never lost her composure in front of him.

"Are you reaching out to hug me?"

Homelander smirked but didn't hand over the baby. "Tonight, there's only one person you'll be hugging."

"What are you talking about? I don't understand."

Madelyn's voice was tinged with an attempt to appease. "Please, Homelander, just give me the baby!"

"No, no, no. You already know exactly what I mean."

For the first time, standing before Madelyn, Homelander felt a strange sense of clarity.

He used to bend over backward to please her, proving his worth, doing everything he could for her.

But Madelyn never loved him more because of it.

Now, he saw through it all.

Madelyn wasn't worth it.

"Tonight, you must make a choice."

Homelander's voice was quiet, almost tender. "For you, who's more important—this baby or me?"

"Homelander…"

Madelyn's voice trembled. "I don't know what's happened to you, but if you give me the baby, I'll do whatever you want."

It wasn't the answer Homelander wanted to hear.

If she had chosen him, unwaveringly and without hesitation, he might have reconsidered.

But now? It was over.

"It seems you've made your choice."

Homelander approached her, holding the baby close.

He looked into her eyes and saw the desperation there.

"Please…"

The word had barely left her lips when a pair of searing red laser beams shot from Homelander's eyes.

Madelyn didn't even have the chance to scream. In an instant, she was reduced to a smoldering, charred husk.

Looking at the remains of the woman he once loved, Homelander felt an unexpected sense of liberation.

"I always knew the answer," he muttered to himself, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "I just didn't want to admit it."

At that moment, he felt reborn.

Homelander glanced at the baby in his arms.

This burden… I'll just drop it off at some orphanage.

Now, he had more important matters to attend to.

He needed to see Martha.

---

The next day, when Bruce entered Vought Tower, he was greeted with shocking news.

Madelyn Stillwell, the Vice President of Vought International, was dead.

And the bombshell didn't stop there.

At the Seven's meeting later that day—

"I killed Madelyn," Homelander said nonchalantly. "From today, Ashley will take over her role. Got it?"

The other heroes around the table immediately froze, silent and terrified.

They couldn't fathom how Homelander could casually murder a high-ranking executive of Vought and face zero repercussions.

Had Vought completely surrendered to him?

As he listened to the panicked heartbeats around the room, Homelander smiled with satisfaction.

Yes, he could do whatever he wanted.

The world was his playground, nothing more.

But then—

"I have a question."

While everyone else kept their heads low, Bruce suddenly spoke up.

"Why did you kill Ms. Stillwell? There must be a reason, right?"

Reason?

Homelander's face darkened instantly. Does he think I need a reason to kill?

Bruce's question was nothing short of a provocation.

Homelander's eyes narrowed with menace, the faint glow of his laser vision promising imminent death. Yet Bruce seemed completely unfazed.

Turning his head, Bruce locked eyes with Homelander, refusing to back down.

"Mr. Homelander," Bruce said calmly, "I understand that you could kill me in an instant if you wanted. That's your choice. But I still have something to say."

He continued, "Why did you kill Ms. Stillwell?"

Homelander listened carefully to Bruce's heartbeat. It was unnervingly steady, showing not the slightest trace of fear.

Not a single tremor.

The only other person who had ever made him feel this way was Martha.

Is this kid just reckless, or does he have some hidden ace up his sleeve?

Homelander's mind flickered back to the previous night, to the scene after he had killed Madelyn and gone to see Martha.

---

The bell on the bar door jingled—

Homelander strode into the room, radiating confidence.

"I did it!"

The moment he entered, he shouted to Martha.

"I saw through that woman's true nature and set her free."

He thought these words would convey how he had carried out Martha's instructions.

Homelander wanted to prove that he was no longer shackled by the crumbs of affection Madelyn had tossed him. He was finally free!

Poor fool. He hadn't realized that his so-called "freedom" was just leaping from one pit into another.

His emotional dependence had merely shifted—from Madelyn to Martha.

Behind the bar, Martha was gently polishing a glass, just as she always was when he visited.

She never seemed to run out of glasses to clean.

"And why are you so happy?"

Martha sighed suddenly. "I feel sorry for you. I truly hoped you could become the one people chose."

"It doesn't matter!"

Homelander exclaimed. "I don't care about Madelyn anymore!"

"Really?"

Martha glanced at him briefly. "I'll take your word for it, then."

"Of course, it's true!"

"Well, congratulations on moving on."

Martha prepared another drink for him and slid it across the bar. Without hesitation, Homelander downed it in one gulp.

The familiar warmth of intoxication flooded his senses.

"Martha, I really appreciate you!"

His words were slightly slurred. "If it weren't for you, I'd never have seen my true self."

"I owe you one. Let me do something for you!"

Hearing this, Martha shook her head. "I didn't help you for a reward. Let's not talk about that."

"Something small! Something small!"

Homelander insisted. "I can do anything. It's no trouble for me at all!"

"Is that so?"

Martha paused her polishing, looking thoughtful.

Homelander waited silently for her reply.

"Then just be your true self."

Martha smiled suddenly. "Don't worry about what others think. Be who you really are. Do what you truly want to do."

"Sure, some people won't understand, but I promise you—those who love you will keep loving you."

Those who love you will keep loving you.

A meaningless platitude to most.

But to Homelander, it was profoundly validating.

In his mind, the "one who loves you" was automatically filled in as Martha.

"You're right!"

He nodded vigorously. "I'm tired of living this fake life. I need someone who truly loves me!"

His thoughts wandered to his legions of fans.

Sure, they claimed to adore him now, but how many would stick around if they saw his true self?

He couldn't tolerate that uncertainty.

Homelander decided it was time to filter out the fakes.

Only those who loved him unconditionally, who truly supported him, deserved to stay.

From this moment, the world was split into two kinds of people in Homelander's eyes: those who loved him and those who didn't.

"Oh, one more thing," Martha began, then immediately shook her head. "No, I've already asked you for something. I shouldn't trouble you further."

"Go on, say it!"

Homelander, brimming with confidence, said, "One thing? I can do a hundred things for you easily!"

For Martha, he would give his all to fulfill her requests.

"Well, it's like this," Martha said slowly. "In the Seven, there's someone named Bruce Wayne, isn't there?"

At this, Homelander froze, suspicion flickering in his mind.

Why was Martha asking about Bruce?

A seed of doubt sprouted.

Could Martha's affection be for Bruce Wayne instead of me?

Was that possible?

"Don't overthink it," Martha said with a serene smile. "A friend of mine is a fan of Bruce's. She's very concerned about the boy."

"Really?" Homelander asked, his tone skeptical.

"Are you doubting me?"

Martha's smile vanished as she sighed. "If that's how it is, you can turn around and leave—or kill me before you go. I won't blame you either way."

"No, no, no!"

Homelander panicked, rushing to reassure her. "I swear, I don't doubt you at all!"

"Swearing isn't enough."

Martha's expression softened slightly, though it was clear she hadn't entirely forgiven him.

She reached under the bar and retrieved a bag of marshmallows. Pulling one out, she held it up.

"Here's the deal. I'll toss this marshmallow in the air. If you can catch it with your mouth, I'll forgive you."

"Easy!"

Homelander puffed out his chest, laughing inwardly.

Martha has no idea what I'm capable of.

I'm Homelander. I could catch a hundred marshmallows at once.

"Ready?"

Martha tossed the marshmallow high into the air.

In a blur, Homelander caught it perfectly between his teeth.

"See? Got it!" he said proudly, showing off like a child seeking approval.

Martha's face lit up with delight.

"Good boy, good boy!"

---

T/N: He's just a pet...

Hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter. WiseTL has worked hard to bring these wonderful stories to you, and I'm so happy we could share this moment together! Don't you think stories are a little like dreams? Each one has its own colors and shapes, and they grow even brighter when shared with others.

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