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"fuck!"
Vargas—once a triple-crown Best Actor, now a bankrupt drunk—crushed the last can of cheap beer in his hand.
The empty can spun off the edge of the roof, clattered onto a balcony below, and drew a loud curse.
Forty-four floors up, the night wind was ice-cold, stinging his cheeks numb.
Bankrupt, black-listed, hated by the entire internet.
The team he trusted most and the woman he trusted most—Lucinda—had framed him together.
In one night he'd fallen from the clouds into the mire.
"Hahahahaha!"
Vargas laughed like a madman.
He had been an actor—the very best.
He knew what audiences loved, what capital wanted.
He'd thought he was the player; only later did he realize he was the easiest piece to discard.
Of course he knew he'd been set up—but he couldn't find a shred of proof.
Lucinda, the woman he'd personally made famous and who had personally destroyed him, had been too clean.
"Die..." he muttered. "Every last fucking one of you—die!"
He snatched the bottle and took a fierce swig.
"Just fucking die—!" he roared, wild-eyed.
Right then a brilliant meteor tore across the night sky.
Vargas froze.
Meteor... Lucinda... Eyes wide, he glared at the shooting star and broke into a savage grin.
He undid his belt in one pull.
"Screw this!"
He aimed at the light streaking overhead.
"Screw your meteor! Screw you, Lucinda!"
Screaming like a maniac, he vented his madness in the rooftop gale.
"Come on! Fucking kill me, bitch! Hahaha—!! I do whatever I damn want!"
Then something bizarre happened.
The meteor—due to vanish in seconds—seemed enraged by his taunt.
It... it actually stopped.
It snapped through a sharp angle, trailing blazing fire, and dove straight for Vargas's skull like an intercontinental missile locked on target.
"I... what the fuck?"
The booze fled his veins in an instant.
The madness on his face froze; pupils reflected the growing, blazing sphere.
He didn't even have time to zip up.
"Just kidding... no need to—"
BOOM—!!!
No scream, no last words.
The instant the meteor struck, Vargas was vaporized.
Not even ash remained... Then—
Vargas's eyes snapped open. "What the hell?"
He looked down.
He was floating mid-air. Ahead loomed a ridiculously flashy skyscraper, its glass curtain wall mirror-smooth.
In the mirror reflected a "man".
Tall, buff, handsome, mid-twenties.
He had perfectly combed blond hair and wore a blue bodysuit.
Gold eagle epaulettes flared at the shoulders; a star-spangled cloak billowed behind him.
"..." Vargas stayed silent for three seconds.
He tried flexing a finger.
The mirror man flexed a finger too.
Then he tried a grin.
The mirror flashed a perfect, dazzling smile.
"Uh..."
"I—I became Superman? No, wait..."
This look, this face...
Vargas's brain locked onto a familiar name.
"Home... Homelander?!"
I transmigrated? Into The Boys' bargain-bin Superman?
"I've landed in the goddamn Boys Universe?!"
At the thought of that gore-splattered World of exploding heads, his scalp prickled.
"So where am I? Vought Tower? Do I start off facing Butcher and his Boys?"
He glanced around nervously.
BOOM—!!!
A deafening blast cut his thoughts short.
He jerked his gaze upward.
High above the city a huge blue-glowing wormhole hung in the sky.
Countless ugly aliens on flying sleds poured out, energy weapons spitting lethal beams, turning the bustling streets into hell.
Yellow cabs flipped; pedestrians screamed and scattered.
A Leviathan longer than a train burst from the portal, sheathed in metal plates. Its bulk smashed through a tower's flank, glass and steel raining down.
"..."
Vargas drifted down and settled on a rooftop ledge, star-spangled cloak snapping behind him.
He looked down.
In the street below...
A furious green giant was swinging a Police car, smashing it into Chitauri soldiers.
"Hulk—smash!!"
Nearby a hooded man with a star-studded round shield directed cops evacuating civilians.
"Hold this block! Channel them west!"
A black-clad redhead nimbly leapt onto a Chitauri flier, zapping the pilot with wrist-stingers.
On another roof an archer in high-tech gear picked targets with pinpoint arrows.
Farther off a red-and-gold armor battled two Leviathans in mid-air, repulsors blazing.
"...fuck." The English slipped out automatically.
Vargas realized a problem worse than landing in The Boys.
"This isn't The Boys..."
He stared at the giant wormhole and the green behemoth wrestling a Leviathan.
"This is... the Avengers? ...The Battle of New York?!"
A voice rang out of nowhere.
"Superstar System" activated... binding host... binding successful!
System intro: This is a system that runs on "image". Popularity is power—the more fame you have, the stronger you become!
Current character template: Homelander (Basic Edition)
Abilities: Super-strength, Steel Body (launch perk), Super-stamina, Super-speed, Heat Vision, X-Ray Vision, Super-hearing, Flight.
Current popularity: 0
Current fame level: Nobody
Tip: When a region's level rises to "Superstar", all stat boosts gained there become permanent.
Newbie quest: "Perfect Debut". During the Battle of New York, become the center of attention.
Reward: Unlock Homelander's exclusive suit, indestructible... "More fame, more power..."
Vargas repeated the line softly. He glanced at his plain blue bodysuit, then at the war-torn streets below.
Suddenly he smiled.
"Ha-ha..."
The laugh grew louder, wilder, unstoppable.
"Hahahahahahaha!!"
He craved power, money, everyone's eyes on him.
"Ha, ha, hahahaha!"
It was... perfect! "Superstar System? Man, you really... get me."