𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐎𝐂)

TWENTY EIGHT

The wind died down as Homelander landed on the ground, setting Julia on her feet with care. Her boots crunched softly against the gravel, and she took a hesitant step back, her eyes scanning the surroundings. In front of her loomed an old, rusted warehouse, its large metal doors streaked with decay. Vines crept up its sides, and the faint scent of oil and metal lingered in the air. The building looked abandoned, yet something about it made her uneasy.

Julia turned her gaze up to Homelander, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the words. "Why... here?" she managed, her voice low and hesitant, her question direct but laced with confusion.

Homelander smiled down at her, his expression calm but carrying a certain intensity she couldn't quite place. "You'll see," he said softly, his voice smooth, almost reassuring. He reached down, taking her hand again, his grip firm but not forceful. "I thought it would be something that might make you happy."

Happy? The word lingered in Julia's mind, but it only deepened her confusion. Her sharp eyes flicked back to the warehouse. Its foreboding presence didn't exactly scream happiness, and her brother's cryptic tone only added to her growing unease. Still, she didn't resist as he began to lead her toward the doors.

As they stepped inside, darkness enveloped them. Julia squinted, her heightened senses struggling to adjust. The only sound was the soft echo of their footsteps against the concrete floor. The air inside was cold and carried an unsettling stillness, like the calm before a storm.

Her brow furrowed as Homelander guided her deeper into the warehouse, his confident stride starkly contrasting her quiet hesitation. Then, out of the silence, faint noises reached her ears-soft groans, muffled cries, and the occasional sharp intake of breath. The sounds were faint but distinct, their source still hidden in the shadows.

Julia's body tensed, and her senses heightened. Her instincts told her something wasn't right. She stopped abruptly, tugging slightly at her brother's hand to signal her hesitation. She looked up at him, her eyes questioning, silently demanding an explanation.

Homelander paused and turned to her, his smile never wavering. "Don't worry," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I'll be right here with you."

The cryptic reassurance did little to settle her nerves, but she reluctantly nodded, deciding to trust him for now. He resumed walking, and she followed, her steps cautious and deliberate.

As they moved further into the warehouse, the sounds grew louder, though still muffled, as if coming from behind thick walls. Julia's pulse quickened, her breath steady but shallow. Something about this felt wrong, but she kept following, her curiosity mingling with her apprehension.

Then, they turned a corner, and the dim light from a single overhead bulb illuminated the space ahead. Julia's eyes widened as she took in the sight before her.

Her breath hitched.

The dim light above cast eerie shadows across the room, illuminating the bruised and battered faces of the four men tied to their chairs. Julia's breath caught in her throat, her wide eyes darting from their injuries to her brother's calm, almost serene demeanor. She couldn't find the words-there were too many emotions vying for dominance: confusion, anger, fear. Instead, her body moved on instinct, pulling back, tugging at Homelander's hand, trying to create some distance from the horrifying scene in front of her.

But Homelander's grip didn't waver. His hand remained firm, though not harsh, as he gently nudged her forward. "It's okay," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it, a sharp contrast to the agony surrounding them. "I'm here."

Julia hesitated, her feet moving reluctantly as he led her closer. Now standing in front of the men, she grimaced, unable to look away from their pained expressions. They were a mess of cuts and bruises, their clothes torn, their bodies trembling. Whimpers and the faint scrape of chairs against the floor broke the silence as they struggled weakly against their restraints. Julia swallowed hard, her stomach twisting.