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__________
Derek stood in the Vought research labs, pretending to admire the sleek glass displays while discreetly studying the floor plan from his HUD. His Spider-Sense tingled faintly as a scientist walked by, carrying a case labeled *"Compound V - Sample 114."*
"So, this is where the magic happens," Derek said, his tone casual. "Big science-y words and all that jazz."
The head scientist, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and glasses perched precariously on his nose, adjusted his lab coat. "Indeed. Our work ensures the Seven stay at the top of their game. You must be fascinated by our enhancements."
"Totally fascinated," Derek replied, gesturing vaguely toward a console. "Like, what does that thing even do?"
"It's a compound analysis unit," the scientist replied, his tone flat.
Derek nodded, pretending to understand. "Neat. Bet Homelander loves having all these resources at his fingertips."
The scientist stiffened slightly, his face betraying discomfort. "Homelander doesn't often... visit the labs."
"Doesn't trust the tech?" Derek asked innocently, leaning in just a little too close.
"Not exactly." The scientist's voice dropped, and he glanced around nervously. "It's more that... well, Homelander doesn't need anyone's help."
Derek smirked inwardly. *That's right, keep spilling the beans.* Out loud, he said, "Must be tough keeping up with someone like him. Bet the rest of the team doesn't appreciate all the effort you guys put in."
The scientist hesitated but then nodded, his guard slipping further. "You'd be surprised how much tension there is. Not everyone likes playing second fiddle to Homelander."
"Interesting," Derek murmured. He clapped the man on the back with a friendly grin. "Keep up the good work, Doc. You're the real MVP."
As the scientist shuffled away, Derek quickly uploaded the lab's floor plans to his system. His HUD flashed with a notification:
**Mission Update: Subvert Vought's Secrets - Progress 40%. Reward: 150 points.**
"Almost there," Derek muttered to himself, a sly grin creeping onto his face.
The Seven had gathered for another one of Homelander's pep talks in the boardroom. Homelander stood at the head of the table, his cape flowing as though there were a dramatic breeze—despite the room being climate-controlled.
"Let's talk about last week's mission," Homelander began, his smile razor-sharp. "A-Train, great job... running into that wall. Impressive."
A-Train bristled but kept quiet, his fists clenched.
"And Deep," Homelander continued, his tone dripping with condescension, "I'm sure the dolphins appreciated your heroic efforts. Too bad they can't vote."
The Deep opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it.
Derek, leaning casually against his chair, decided to step in. "You know, Homelander, for someone who claims to be a team player, you spend a lot of time trash-talking your own team."
Homelander's piercing gaze turned to Derek, but the younger hero didn't flinch.
"Careful, Webweaver," Homelander said, his smile tight. "Your powers are... cute, but you're not exactly intimidating. I mean, what's next? You shooting webs out of your ass?"
The room went silent, everyone bracing for Derek's response. He didn't miss a beat.
"Maybe," Derek replied with a smirk. "But at least I won't be on *freshtakesupe.com* next week. What's it this time—more milk cartons?"
The Deep and A-Train barely stifled their laughter as Homelander's eyes narrowed. But instead of lashing out, Homelander chuckled—a low, dangerous sound.
"I like you, Derek," he said, looking around the table. "At least you've got some guts. More than I can say for the rest of you." His gaze lingered on The Deep and A-Train, both of whom avoided eye contact.
Derek leaned back, his smirk never fading. "Glad we're bonding, boss."
After the tense meeting, Derek found himself back on the rooftop with Starlight. The city stretched out before them, glittering with lights as the cool night air wrapped around them.
"I don't know how you do it," Starlight said, breaking the silence.
"Do what?" Derek asked, leaning against the railing beside her.
"Stand up to him," she replied, her voice tinged with admiration. "Homelander isn't just dangerous—he's... terrifying. Most of us just keep our heads down and hope he doesn't notice us."
Derek shrugged. "Maybe I'm too stupid to be scared. Or maybe I've realized that he's just a guy with an overinflated ego."
Starlight smiled faintly, but her expression was still clouded with worry. "That kind of attitude is going to get you killed."
"Maybe," Derek admitted, turning to face her. "But someone's got to push back. And if I can make him doubt himself, even for a second, that's a win."
She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "You're different from anyone I've ever met."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Different good or different bad?"
"Different... good," she said softly.
Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him, her lips warm against his. For a moment, everything else faded away—the danger, the lies, the looming threat of Homelander.
When they finally pulled apart, Derek grinned. "So, does this mean we're officially a thing, or do I need to fill out some paperwork?"
Starlight laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Shut up."
Later that night, Derek found Queen Maeve nursing a drink in her usual spot. She looked up as he approached, raising an eyebrow.
"Shouldn't you be off swinging from rooftops or something?" she asked dryly.
"Thought I'd check in on my favorite drinking buddy," Derek replied, sitting down beside her.
Maeve chuckled, taking a sip of her whiskey. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. I can't decide which."
"Why not both?" Derek quipped, earning a small smile from her.
They sat in silence for a moment before Derek spoke again. "What do you think would happen if Homelander wasn't around?"
Maeve's expression darkened. "That's a dangerous question."
"Maybe," Derek said, his tone casual. "But it's one worth asking. He's not invincible, Maeve. And the rest of us... we're stronger than we think."
She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're playing a dangerous game, Derek. And if you lose, it won't just be you who pays the price."
"I know," Derek said quietly. "But I also know that if we don't take a stand, nothing will ever change."
Maeve didn't respond, but the look in her eyes told him that his words had struck a chord.
As he left the lounge, his system pinged with a notification:
**Mission Update: Rally Allies Against Homelander - Progress 50%. Reward: 250 points.**
Derek smiled to himself. *Game on.*
Derek crouched in a dimly lit alley, his Spider-Sense buzzing faintly as he kept an eye on the Vought executive entrance. His system HUD pinged softly, overlaying the building's schematics and highlighting weak points.
**System Update: Objective – Obtain Evidence of Homelander's Weakness. Progress: 70%.**
"Alright, System," Derek muttered. "If you've got any bright ideas, now's the time."
**Suggestion: Utilize Compound V analytics stored on the Vought central server. Likelihood of actionable data: 85%.**
Derek sighed, his web-shooters primed. "Breaking into another server room? Classic superhero grunt work. Let's do it."
He scaled the side of the building with practiced ease, slipping through a vent and navigating the labyrinth of air ducts. His Spider-Sense flared as a security guard passed below, but he remained silent, waiting until the coast was clear.
Finally, he reached the server room. After carefully disarming the alarms, he plugged a device into the main terminal, letting the system do its work.
**Data Extraction in Progress. Estimated Time: 2 Minutes.**
"Two minutes?" Derek whispered. "You couldn't make it faster?"
**Sarcasm Detected. Reducing Completion Estimate by 5 Seconds.**
Derek rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. His Spider-Sense buzzed more insistently now, and he turned just in time to see a shadow moving outside the room.
"Company's here," he muttered, crouching low.
The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside—Ashley Barrett, Vought's PR head.
"Great," Derek whispered sarcastically.
Ashley froze, her wide eyes darting around the room before landing on him. "What are you doing here?"
Derek shrugged nonchalantly. "Just taking a midnight stroll through the servers. What about you? Burning the midnight oil?"
She opened her mouth to scream, but Derek was faster. In a blur, he webbed her mouth shut and pulled her out of the room.
"Look," he said, keeping his voice low. "You scream, and this whole building comes down on us. Let's keep this between us, alright?"
Ashley nodded frantically, her muffled protests fading.
**Data Extraction Complete. Mission Progress: 90%.**
Derek smirked. "Thanks for the company, Ashley. Now if you'll excuse me..." He webbed her to the wall and slipped out as silently as he'd arrived.
The Seven's boardroom buzzed with tense energy the following day. Homelander stood at the head of the table, arms crossed and an insufferable grin on his face.
"Another day, another crisis avoided, thanks to yours truly," he said, his tone smug. "But I hear our newest recruit had a little adventure last night."
Derek leaned back in his chair, unbothered by the spotlight. "Just stretching my legs. You know how it is."
Homelander's smile sharpened. "Stretching your legs? More like sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You're lucky I don't swat you like the bug you are."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. But Derek refused to flinch.
"You could try," he said casually. "But let's be real, you'd probably just miss and hit another milk carton."
Homelander's eyes glinted dangerously, but instead of lashing out, he laughed—a loud, genuine sound that startled everyone.
"I like this guy," he said, turning to The Deep and A-Train. "He's got more guts than either of you."
The Deep squirmed in his seat, and A-Train muttered something under his breath.
"And speaking of guts," Homelander continued, his gaze locking onto Derek, "tell me something. Do your webs come out of your hands, or... somewhere else?"
The room erupted in awkward laughter, but Derek didn't miss a beat.
"Only out of my hands, thankfully," he said with a smirk. "Unlike your leadership skills, which seem to come out of somewhere else entirely."
Homelander's laugh echoed through the room again, and he clapped Derek on the shoulder. "You're alright, kid. Annoying, but alright."
Later that evening, Derek and Starlight found themselves alone in one of Vought Tower's private lounges. The city lights glittered through the massive windows, casting a soft glow over the room.
"I can't believe you said that to Homelander," Starlight said, laughing as she sipped her drink.
Derek shrugged, his smile playful. "Someone had to. Besides, I think he secretly loves it when someone talks back. Makes him feel human for a second."
Starlight's laughter faded, and she looked at him thoughtfully. "You're different, you know that? Most people in this place are either scared or completely self-absorbed. But you... you actually care."
He looked at her, his expression softening. "Maybe that's because I know what it's like to feel powerless. And I don't ever want to forget that."
She smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "You're a good guy, Derek. Even if you don't want to admit it."
"Don't spread that around," he said, leaning closer. "I've got a reputation to maintain."
She laughed, and before either of them could think twice, he kissed her. The world seemed to pause, the chaos of their lives momentarily forgotten.
When they finally pulled apart, Starlight grinned. "You're full of surprises."
"You have no idea," he replied, pulling her close again.
Derek's moment of peace didn't last long. As he returned to his quarters later that night, he found Queen Maeve waiting for him, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
"We need to talk," she said, her tone serious.
"Is this about my growing fan club?" Derek joked, but Maeve's expression didn't soften.
"Cut the crap," she said, stepping closer. "I know what you're up to."
Derek's smile faded. "Care to elaborate?"
"You're digging for dirt on Homelander," she said bluntly. "And while I admire the guts it takes to go against him, you need to know what you're getting into."
"I can handle myself," Derek said firmly.
"Can you?" Maeve countered, her voice rising. "Do you have any idea what he's capable of? What he's done to people who've crossed him?"
"I'm not afraid of him," Derek said, his tone steady.
Maeve studied him for a long moment before sighing. "You should be. But if you're dead set on this, then at least let me help you."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Help me? I thought you wanted me to back off."
"I do," she admitted. "But if you're going to be stupid, you might as well have someone watching your back."
Derek smiled. "I'll take it."
Maeve handed him the whiskey. "You're either the bravest idiot I've ever met or the stupidest hero alive."
"I'll take that too," he said, taking a swig.