(Logan POV)
The storm came at dawn, sweeping over the mountains in a torrent of ice and howling wind. Snow hammered the cabin windows, blurring the treeline. In the flickering light of the fireplace, we gathered in a ring of tired faces and haunted eyes. The fire crackled. Every shadow felt like claws closing around us.
Grace's laptop glowed on the table, showing drone footage of the Vought board's estate in flames, but it wasn't our doing. Someone else had moved first, killing the few directors who dared gather, leaving the rest scattered. "Someone's cleaning house," Grace said grimly. "Vought's tearing itself apart from the inside."
Butcher stalked back and forth like a caged animal. "It's Homelander. He's tired of babysitting them. He wants the leash off."
Annie shook her head. "He still needs Vought's infrastructure, the contracts, the media, the Compound V labs."
"He does," Grace agreed. "But he won't wait forever."
I looked at the others. Maggie leaning on the hearth, eyes dark with worry. MM hunched over his phone, watching footage of protests erupting in major cities, people angry, terrified, demanding answers. Frenchie and Kimiko sat shoulder to shoulder on the floor, cleaning weapons in silence. Hughie and Annie held hands so tight their knuckles went white.
And Ryan, sat cross-legged near Becca, staring into the fire with eyes too old for his face.
Grace clicked a remote, flipping to news channels, anchors stammering as reports of black ops raids on hidden Vought labs rolled in. Government agents were tearing apart sites we hadn't even found. Protesters clashed with police outside Vought's New York tower. Lawsuits flew like confetti.
But the headlines were shifting. Newscasters used words like "hero" again. A few even called Homelander the only thing keeping America safe from chaos. I felt the knot in my gut tighten. The tide was turning, but not toward justice, toward fear.
Hughie looked up, face pale. "They're doing it. They're making him the solution to the mess he caused."
Grace nodded. "They'll make him stronger than ever if they can. We have to keep the pressure up. Vought needs to stay on the ropes."
Butcher slammed a hand on the table. "We need something big. A target they can't spin."
Maggie passed around photos, Vought trucks moving under cover of night, guarded by armored SUVs. Frenchie traced the routes with a gloved finger. "They're shifting assets, V caches, research data, maybe more."
Kimiko signed, fast and fierce. Frenchie translated, "She says we hit the convoys. Smash what they're moving. Make them bleed."
MM grimaced. "They'll know it's us."
"Good," I growled. "Let them know. Let them know we're not running."
Annie glanced at Ryan, then Becca. "He's why Homelander waits. We have him. But we can't stay in one place. If they find this cabin, we're trapped."
The map of the convoy route lay across the table, dotted with possible choke points. The plan came together in short, clipped sentences, Frenchie's bombs, Kimiko's knives, MM's rifle. Hughie set up ways to capture the raid on video. Annie would shield the team if it went sideways.
Butcher pulled me aside as the others talked, his eyes bloodshot and intense. "Logan," he rasped. "You're the only one who can go toe-to-toe with Homelander if he shows. You know that."
I nodded. "He knows it, too."
"He's scared of you."
"He should be."
Butcher almost smiled. "Good."
We reached the valley before dawn, the sky bruised with storm clouds. MM parked on a ridge overlooking the narrow mountain road. The convoy appeared in the distance, headlights cutting through snow. Six black trucks, three armored SUVs bristling with weapons.
Frenchie's charges went first, the lead SUV flipped in a plume of fire, landing sideways across the road. Guards poured from the vehicles, guns blazing. Kimiko was already among them, moving faster than eyes could track, a whirlwind of silent death.
MM laid down careful shots, each one dropping a guard. Maggie sprinted in from the treeline, fists smashing men into snowdrifts. Annie strode through the chaos, light bursting from her hands to blind and disorient, leaving them open for the others.
I hit the second SUV like a meteor, claws tearing through the hood, dragging men screaming from the windows. Sparks danced off unbreakable bones as they tried to hit me with batons and rifles. I left them broken in the snow.
A helicopter appeared overhead, its searchlight sweeping across the battlefield. Frenchie shouted, "Down!" as it fired a volley of missiles, but Annie raised her hands, light bursting forth to melt the projectiles midair.
Kimiko leaped onto a truck roof, hurling herself at the chopper. It veered wildly, crashing into the mountainside with a fireball that lit the valley bright as day.
MM radioed, "We're clear on the left! Push them!"
Butcher's voice crackled, savage and exultant: "Rip the bastards apart!"
We took the convoy in under ten minutes. Flames flickered along the road, smoke mingling with falling snow. Frenchie picked through the wreckage, pulling hard drives and papers from the wrecked trucks. Hughie filmed everything, narrating into the camera. "This is Vought's real face," he said hoarsely.
Maggie wiped blood from her face, eyes scanning the mountains for any sign of Homelander. But the sky stayed empty.
Annie pulled Hughie close, trembling. "We did it," she whispered.
I stood amid the wreckage, breathing hard. The only sound was the crackle of burning vehicles and the hiss of snow melting against hot metal.
Back at the cabin, we sorted the evidence, uploading it to every reporter and watchdog who'd take it. The data showed Vought's human experimentation, offshore facilities, kill orders for whistleblowers, the worst of their sins laid bare.
Grace smiled grimly. "This will keep them busy for weeks."
"But not him," Maggie said, voice soft but edged with steel.
She was right. The boy slept fitfully, even as Becca hummed lullabies to calm him. MM sat by the window, gun across his knees. Frenchie and Kimiko curled up together in the corner, exhaustion finally overtaking them. Hughie and Annie huddled close, sharing warmth.
Butcher approached me as dawn broke pale across the snow. "They'll regroup. He'll come."
I flexed my claws. "Let him."
____________________________________________________________________________
(Homelander POV)
Homelander stood alone on the peak of a frozen skyscraper, cape whipping in the wind. His eyes glowed red, scanning the darkness for movement. His knuckles were white, teeth bared. The world he'd controlled so perfectly was slipping through his fingers.
Vought's executives called him over and over. He ignored them. Screens showed videos of the convoy attack on every news network. People weren't begging him for safety anymore. They were demanding answers.
He screamed, the sound shaking glass for blocks. But he stayed where he was, bound by the thin leash of Vought's fear of total collapse.
____________________________________________________________________________
(Logan's POV)
Inside the cabin, the team shared one last quiet meal. MM read headlines aloud. Hughie and Annie whispered about tomorrow. Frenchie sang softly to Kimiko. Butcher kept glancing at Ryan and Becca, his face torn between rage and something like hope.
I stepped outside, feeling the cold bite deep. Maggie came with me, standing close enough for our shoulders to touch. Snow drifted down, silent and thick.
"How long do you think we have?" she asked.
"Long enough," I said. "To get ready."
She looked at me, eyes fierce. "Then let's make it count."
And with the dawn spilling across the mountains, we prepared for the war still to come.