WEIGHT OF AMERICA || Homelander

002: First Encounter and Clashing Egos

The next morning, the sun rose over Vought Tower, casting a golden hue over the city. Homelander had barely slept, his mind consumed with thoughts of Phantasm. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was a threat, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike.

As he made his way to the training facility, he found himself replaying Madelyn's words. "Observe her, assess her." He would do just that. He needed to understand what made her so special, so valuable to Vought.

The training facility was bustling with activity. Supes of various ranks and abilities were honing their skills, preparing for their next mission or public appearance. Homelander scanned the room, his eyes locking onto Phantasm. She stood in the center, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her.

She was sparring with Queen Maeve, their movements a blur of strength and precision. Maeve was formidable, but she... she held her own, her agility and strategic thinking evident in every move. Homelander watched as Phantasm dodged Maeve's punches and delivered her own counterattacks with pinpoint accuracy.

"Impressive, isn't she?" A voice said from behind him. Homelander turned to see A-Train, his expression one of grudging admiration.

"She's something," Homelander replied, his tone neutral. "But we'll see if she can keep up."

A-Train shrugged. "She's already giving Maeve a run for her money. That's saying something."

Homelander didn't respond. Instead, he continued to watch as Phantasm and Maeve finished their sparring match. Maeve stepped back, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Not bad, Phantasm. Not bad at all."

Scarlet nodded, wiping the sweat from her brow. "You too, ты тоже."

Maeve chuckled, "Flattery will get you nowhere. But you've got potential but I'm still feeling underestimated by the way you didn't use your powers."

Homelander stepped forward, his presence immediately drawing attention. "Phantasm," he said, his voice carrying an edge of authority. "Care for a match?"

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Phantasm and Homelander, the tension palpable. Phantasm met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Of course, Homelander," she replied calmly. "It would be an honor."

They moved to the center of the training area, the other Supes forming a loose circle around them. Homelander sized her up, his mind racing with strategies. He needed to test her, to see just how powerful she really was.

"Ready?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

She nodded, "Born ready."

With a sudden burst of speed, Homelander lunged at her, his fist aimed directly at her face. But Phantasm was quick. She dodged his attack, her movements fluid and precise. She countered with a punch of her own, but Homelander blocked it effortlessly.

Why isn't she using powers? The damned mind games, where the fuck is it?!

They exchanged blows, each attack and counterattack a testament to their skills. Homelander was relentless, his strength and speed unmatched. But Phantasm was no slouch. She moved with a grace and agility that made it difficult for him to land a decisive blow.

As they fought, Homelander began to see the depth of her abilities. She wasn't just physically strong; she was also a master strategist, anticipating his moves and countering them with calculated precision. He could feel her probing at the edges of his mind, testing his mental defenses.

"You're good," Homelander said, his breath coming in short bursts. "But let's see how you handle this."

He increased the intensity of his attacks, his blows coming faster and harder. Phantasm struggled to keep up, her defenses starting to falter. Homelander could see the strain in her eyes, the effort it took to maintain her composure.