Marvel System In The Boys

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Here's the chap-

Derek's eyes snapped open to the sharp scent of damp concrete. His chest ached, as if the air had been punched out of him again and again. For a few agonizing moments, he forgot where he was, the events of the past hours buried beneath the disorientation of waking up. He lay still, the cold of the ground seeping into his bones. The memory of Homelander's fists, the white-hot heat of his laser vision slicing the air, came rushing back, like a nightmare on loop.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing at the pain that shot through his body. His head spun, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn't dead anymore.

Not yet.

The alley was dark, the shadows clinging to the crumbling brick walls, but the muffled sound of sirens made him flinch. Derek dragged his fingers through his hair, caked with blood and sweat. Homelander had left him for dead. And for all intents and purposes, he *had* been dead—until the white space. The empty void where time seemed to fold in on itself, where God had forced him to face his failure.

Valerie.

Her name hit him like a gut punch, and suddenly the pain in his body was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest. Valerie was gone. He could still see the look of confusion on her face when Homelander swatted her away, her body crumpling like a doll.

Derek's hands balled into fists. He wasn't ready to face the world. Not yet. Not like this—barely alive, barely more than a walking corpse. He had to get stronger. He wouldn't let it end the same way again. Not with him being dragged around like some ragdoll while Homelander grinned and crushed everything he cared about.

He forced himself to stand, shaky at first, leaning against the wall for support. His clothes were torn, the remnants of the fight still clinging to his skin. The sirens were closer now, and he could hear voices—cops, probably checking out the scene of the massacre. They were closing in.

Derek scanned the alley, eyes locking onto the rusted fire escape bolted to the side of a building. He gritted his teeth and jumped, his muscles protesting as he grabbed the railing. It creaked under his weight, but held. He pulled himself up, one rung at a time, until he reached the roof.

Up here, the world seemed quieter, distant. He could see the flashing lights of the police cars down below, but they were far enough away that he wouldn't be noticed. Not yet. He had to vanish, disappear off the radar entirely, at least until he was strong enough to make his return.

Derek looked down at the darkened city. This was his rebirth. His second chance. He couldn't let the same thing happen again. He wouldn't.

Standing on the roof, Derek's chest rose and fell with labored breaths. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Homelander was a monster, and Derek had been foolish enough to think he could take him on with just a fraction of Thor's powers. He wasn't ready, not even close.

The police below were scouring the area. It wouldn't be long before they found the bodies. Derek looked back at the spot where he had died, where Valerie had been killed. For a split second, he considered going back to their safe house—finding something that connected him to her, a reminder of the life that had been snatched from him. But that was the past.

If he went back to the safe house, he was certain Homelander would find him. He had no doubt the supes would be sweeping the city by now, sniffing out anyone connected to Valerie. Derek knew that Homelander was a predator—he wouldn't rest until there was no trace left of those who defied him. Valerie's history, her secrets, were likely already being unraveled. He couldn't risk leading them back to her trail.

The thought of her—of her lifeless body—burned in his mind, but he had to be smart now. He had to stay alive. There was no room for mistakes.

His hand drifted to his pocket, and he felt the smooth edge of a card. Pulling it out, he stared at the simple, unassuming piece of paper.

Eric.

Eric had given him this card weeks ago, a contingency plan in case things went south. Derek hadn't taken it seriously then. He thought he'd never need it—he'd thought Valerie and he could figure everything out on their own. But now, he was alone.

Maybe it was time to reach out to the one person who could help him without asking too many questions. Eric was smart, cautious, but well-connected. He wasn't directly involved in supe business, but he had the resources to keep Derek off the radar.

Derek gripped the card tighter. He needed to make a call.

Derek moved across the rooftops with a fluid, practiced grace. His body was still sore from the fight, but it was adapting quickly. The powers of Thor were still there, simmering beneath the surface. He just hadn't learned how to control them fully. That would come in time, but for now, he had to focus on survival.

He reached the edge of a building and looked down onto the street below. There was a homeless man leaning against the side of a convenience store, his head drooping as he held a battered, ancient phone in his hands. Derek's gaze flicked to the phone. It wasn't ideal, but it was his best shot.

Derek dropped down silently behind the man, landing softly on his feet. He approached slowly, making sure not to startle him.

"Hey," Derek said, his voice low.

The man looked up, startled, clutching the phone to his chest. His bloodshot eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I need to borrow your phone. Just for a minute."

The man shook his head, clutching the phone tighter. "Ain't got no money for you, man."

Derek dug into his pocket and pulled out the last crumpled bills he had. "This should cover it."

The man eyed the money warily, then hesitantly handed over the phone. Derek dialed Eric's number, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea if Eric would even answer. He hadn't spoken to him after that meeting.

The phone rang once, twice, and then a familiar voice came through.

"Who's this?", Eric asked.

"It's me. Derek. "

"Derek?" Eric sounded surprised. "Is that you? I thought you were—"

"Dead? Yeah, I thought so too," Derek replied, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. "I need your help, Eric."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Derek could hear the tension in Eric's voice, the way his mind was racing to piece together what had happened.

"What the hell happened out there?" Eric finally asked. "I heard about the massacre. Valerie..."

"She's gone," Derek said, the words cutting like glass. "Homelander killed her."

Another long silence followed.

"Jesus," Eric whispered. "I had a feeling that's what happened. But why are you calling me?"

"I need to disappear," Derek said, glancing back at the alley where the homeless man was still sitting, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation. "I'm not ready to face Homelander yet. I need time to get stronger, to train."

Eric sighed on the other end. "Derek, you know what you're asking me, right? Homelander doesn't let things go. If he finds out I'm involved, he'll—"

"He won't," Derek interrupted. "You've stayed under the radar this long, and I just need a place to lay low. Somewhere secure, somewhere he can't find me."

There was a long pause, the tension hanging in the air.

"Alright," Eric finally said. "I have a place. It's off the grid, and it's protected. Homelander won't be able to see inside."

Derek's breath caught. "Where?"

"I'll send you the address. Meet me there in an hour."

Derek thanked the homeless man and handed back the phone, his mind racing. Eric was his only shot at survival, at getting strong enough to face Homelander. He had to keep his head low, stay out of sight, and train. He wasn't ready yet, but he would be.

He would make sure no one else had to die because of him.

As he walked through the quiet streets, Derek couldn't help but feel the weight of Valerie's absence. The world felt colder, emptier. But now, he had a singular focus: getting stronger. Becoming powerful enough to destroy the one person who had taken everything from him.

Homelander.

And this time, Derek swore, he wouldn't fail.

Derek moved through the streets with purpose, his senses heightened and on alert. The city felt alive beneath him—cars humming in the distance, the occasional siren breaking through the quiet—but none of it mattered. His focus was on one thing: getting to Eric's safe house.

Eric had given him the address during their call, and Derek knew the area. It wasn't far, just a few blocks over, but it felt like a world away. He didn't let his mind wander to Valerie—he couldn't afford to break down, not right now. There would be time to grieve later, once he was safe.

With the city winding down for the night, he moved between the shadows, careful to avoid any lingering police patrols or supes that might still be in the area. The last thing he needed was to attract attention. The closer he got to the safe house, the more he noticed the subtle signs Eric had told him to look for. A darkened street, a boarded-up storefront, a narrow alley that led to a seemingly abandoned warehouse.

Derek reached the alley, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced around before slipping inside. The entrance to the warehouse was obscured by crates and debris, but he found the side door easily enough. It was unassuming, no visible markings or security cameras, but Derek knew better than to underestimate Eric's precautions. There was likely an entire surveillance system hidden within the building's infrastructure.

He tapped twice on the metal door, then waited.

The door clicked open, and Eric appeared, his face illuminated by the dim light from inside. He wore a hoodie and jeans, but even in the casual attire, Derek could sense the tension in his posture. Eric wasn't one to get involved in anything dangerous if he could help it. That he was doing this spoke volumes.

"Get in," Eric said, his voice low, as he glanced nervously up and down the alley. Derek slipped inside without a word.

The warehouse was larger than it appeared from the outside, but it was mostly empty, save for a few scattered pieces of machinery covered in dust. Eric led him deeper into the building, his steps quick and efficient.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again," Eric muttered, his eyes scanning Derek's disheveled appearance. "Especially after... everything."

Derek didn't respond immediately, his mind still reeling from the weight of it all. Valerie's death. His failure. The white space. It hung over him like a storm cloud.

"I shouldn't be alive," Derek finally said, his voice quiet. "But I am. And I can't let Homelander win."

Eric nodded grimly. "You're right about that. But if you're going to survive long enough to even think about taking him on, you'll need to be smart about it. No more rushing in headfirst."

Derek looked at him sharply, and Eric raised a hand in mock surrender. "I'm just saying. The guy's a walking nuke. You need more than brute strength."

Derek couldn't argue with that. He had been reckless. That had cost him Valerie. It wouldn't happen again.

Eric stopped in front of a large, reinforced door at the back of the warehouse. He punched a code into a hidden keypad, and the door slid open with a low hiss. Beyond it, a set of stairs descended into darkness.

"This is your safe house," Eric said, gesturing for Derek to follow. "It's been out of use for a while, but it's secure. No one can find you here—not even Homelander."

Derek nodded and followed him down the stairs.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, spiraling downward into the belly of the earth. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, until Darren could see his breath in the dim light. His body, still aching from his encounter with Homelander, protested with each step, but he pushed through the pain.

At the bottom of the stairs, the space opened into a massive underground chamber. Derek's eyes widened as he took it in. It wasn't just a safe house—it was a fortress. The walls were reinforced with thick steel panels, and there were multiple rooms branching off from the main area. The floor was smooth concrete, the kind that looked like it had been designed to take heavy impact. There were weights and training equipment scattered around, and in one corner, a large digital screen flickered to life, showing a live feed of various camera angles throughout the city.

"Welcome to your new home," Eric said with a smirk, though there was an underlying seriousness in his tone. "This place used to belong to my grandfather. He was... let's just say he wasn't your typical businessman. He had a bit of a vigilante streak in him. Built this place to train and stay off the grid."

Derek ran a hand along one of the steel walls, marveling at the craftsmanship. The place was practically a bunker, designed to withstand just about anything. It was perfect.

"I had no idea your family was into this kind of thing," Derek said, glancing over at Eric.

"Yeah, well, we all have our secrets," Eric replied, his eyes flicking toward the training equipment. "I figured this would be the best place for you to lie low and figure things out. There's an underground room that's the size of a stadium. You can practice without worrying about collateral damage."

Derek's heart raced. A place to train. A place to grow stronger. This was exactly what he needed.

"And it's protected from Homelander?" Derek asked, still wary of the supe's terrifying reach.

Eric nodded. "The walls are lined with zinc. Homelander's vision can't penetrate it. As long as you're here, he won't be able to track you."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed himself to feel a spark of hope. He might actually have a chance.

Eric pulled up a chair and sat down, watching as Derek wandered the space, inspecting every corner. "So, what's your plan now? You're not exactly going to blend in with society after what happened."

Derek leaned against one of the steel beams, crossing his arms over his chest. "First, I need to figure out how to control my powers. I have Thor's abilities, but I haven't had the time to really master them. I was too focused on confronting Homelander... too focused on revenge."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

Derek exhaled, his gaze distant. "Now, I know better. Homelander isn't just a supe. He's a god in his own right. If I'm going to take him down, I need more than just brute force. I need strategy. Training. And I need to find a way to get stronger. I can't just rely on Thor's powers alone."

Eric nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That's a smart move. Homelander's got years of experience under his belt. He's practically untouchable. But if you're going to stand a chance, you'll need more than just raw power. You'll need allies. People who know how to fight him."

Derek frowned. "Allies? Who the hell could take on someone like Homelander?"

Eric leaned back in his chair, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I have a few ideas. People who've been in the shadows for a long time, watching the supes from the sidelines. They've been waiting for someone like you to come along."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "And they'd be willing to help me?"

"If the price is right," Eric said, his tone cryptic. "But that's a conversation for another day. Right now, you need to focus on training. I'll take care of the rest."

Derek hesitated, but he knew Eric was right. He wasn't ready to go looking for allies just yet. He needed to master his powers first, to become someone who could actually stand a chance against Homelander.

Derek stepped into the massive underground room that Eric had mentioned. It was even bigger than he had imagined—a cavernous space, with high ceilings and reinforced walls. It was like stepping into an empty arena, and for the first time since Valerie's death, Derek felt a surge of purpose.

He could feel the energy pulsing in his veins, the latent power of Thor waiting to be unleashed. But he knew that raw strength wasn't enough. He had to learn control, precision, and most importantly, patience.

As he stood in the center of the room, his fists clenched at his sides, Derek made a silent vow.

He would train. He would grow stronger. And when the time came, he would make Homelander pay for what he had done.

But this time, he wouldn't rush in blindly. This time, he would be ready.

The road ahead was long, and the weight of his loss was heavy, but Derek knew one thing for sure.

This was just the beginning.