Chapter 92: Chapter 92: The Black Emperor
A flash of black light.
When it stopped, the Lizard finally saw it clearly—a pitch-black longsword.
And then, Homelander's head flew into the air.
The Lizard, still in his gas mask, broke into manic laughter. "Serves you right!"
"You've had this coming, Homelander! Straight to hell where you belong!"
Pushing Homelander's headless body aside, he staggered to his feet, his gaze landing on the shadowy figure standing amidst the smoke—the one who had slain Homelander.
Clad in black armor, even his head was encased in a dark hood-like helm.
Black Noir.
The Lizard froze in disbelief. The one who killed Homelander was Black Noir—one of the Seven, a supposed superhero!
The air grew heavier as the dark figure stepped forward through the thick smoke, silent and imposing. Without a word, Black Noir crossed over Homelander's body, his black blade slicing toward the Lizard.
The Lizard hastily raised his rifle to block, but the blade cleaved the weapon in half—and his arm along with it.
A scream tore from the Lizard's throat as he turned and ran, clutching the stump where his arm had been.
But after just a few steps, his severed limb began to regenerate, the flesh knitting itself back together.
This was his power—super regeneration!
Yet, before he could feel relief, another streak of black light pierced the air.
Black Noir's blade sailed through the smoke, impaling the Lizard from behind. Its tip burst through his chest, dripping with blood, swaying mockingly before his wide eyes.
The Lizard staggered two steps forward, choking, before collapsing in a heap.
The remaining criminals, seeing their leader felled, panicked and fled in all directions.
But Black Noir had no intention of letting them go. With calculated precision, he flung a flurry of throwing knives, each one finding its mark. The fleeing men fell one by one, their bodies strewn across the floor.
When all was done, Black Noir approached the Lizard's corpse, pulled his blade free, and turned toward Homelander's body.
Only to freeze mid-step.
Homelander's headless body had disappeared.
And then, from the lingering smoke, a voice echoed.
"Well, well… things are getting interesting."
"Superpower inhibitors, huh? Is this a new product from Vought?"
"Judging by your actions, it seems you handed these over to the criminals yourself. Let me guess—this was authorized by Edgar?"
"So, the old man finally couldn't resist, could he?"
Each sentence dripped with disdain, and with each word, Black Noir took another step back.
After seven trembling steps, he spun around and bolted for the exit.
A deafening whoosh cut through the air, a sound so fierce it felt like a low-flying bomber had just passed overhead.
Then, a shadow appeared before him, materializing out of the smoke.
It was a figure suspended in mid-air, a flowing black cape billowing behind him like a calm yet blazing inferno. His armor, majestic and oppressive, was crowned with a helm resembling a monarch's crown.
The figure's faceplate burned with twin blood-red lights, their intensity exuding raw, unchecked rage.
In Black Noir's mind, there was no other word to describe this presence. It was a tyrant—a Black Emperor.
"Impressive plan, I must admit," the Emperor spoke, his voice calm but brimming with contempt.
"Lure me out with a hostage crisis, arm the criminals with something that robs me of my powers, then have you, the sleeper agent, deliver the finishing blow."
"Clean up the evidence afterward, and no one would ever know how Homelander truly died."
The blood-red lights brightened, their intensity sharp and cutting. "This plan reeks of Edgar's handiwork."
Black Noir didn't respond. He turned and fled.
The Emperor chuckled coldly, extending his right arm. From his wrist armor, a chain blade shot out—a weapon capable of slicing at a molecular level, its matte black surface devoid of any embellishment.
The Emperor leaned forward slightly, then vanished in a blur, leaving behind only a faint afterimage.
In an instant, he was upon Black Noir.
Moments ago, Black Noir had used his own blade to pierce the Lizard's heart.
Now, he suffered the same fate.
The chain blade cut through his suit as if it were paper, piercing his heart and bursting through his chest. Blood spilled freely, staining his armor.
From within the helmet, blood poured down Black Noir's neck.
The Emperor chuckled softly as he hoisted the lifeless body with one hand, retreating into the smoke like a phantom.
---
Outside the orphanage, the police captain hesitated.
"There's no sound coming from inside," an officer reported.
The captain nodded cautiously. "Wait until the smoke clears, then we'll move in."
Minutes later, they entered the building, their faces blanching at the sight.
Not a single criminal had survived. The bodies lay scattered across the ground—but Homelander was nowhere to be seen.
"Homelander's already left?" the captain muttered, bewildered.
When he exited the orphanage, the press descended on him in a frenzy.
---
"Moments ago, Homelander successfully resolved another hostage crisis," a reporter announced, standing in front of the orphanage.
"Unfortunately, our hero left the scene before we could interview him."
The TV screen went dark as Edgar turned it off, his reflection visible in the blank screen.
Moments later, his phone buzzed with a message from a contact labeled Black Noir.
The message read: Mission accomplished.
A smile crept across Edgar's face as he typed a reply:
Don't forget to deliver the body to the lab. I'll be there shortly.
Setting the phone down, Edgar addressed someone behind him. "Let's go. We're heading to the lab."
A soft laugh came from the shadows. "Your prized creation has just been destroyed, yet you seem far from heartbroken, Edgar."
Edgar's tone was indifferent. "A product that's outlived its usefulness has no value. Why should I mourn it?"
"Cold as always," the voice sighed.
---
At Vought's research facility, Edgar stepped out of a sleek car, pausing to gaze at the towering building.
Years ago, Homelander had emerged from this very place.
Today, he would return—this time, as a corpse.
Striding into the facility, Edgar was greeted by Dr. David, a portly man in a lab coat with graying whiskers and a perpetually frazzled demeanor.
"Did Black Noir deliver the body?" Edgar asked coolly.
"We can still extract valuable cells from him," he added, a faint smile forming. "His death could finally make our Saint Project a reality."
But as Edgar spoke, he noticed David's unease.
"What's wrong?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
David glanced toward a darkened chamber.
The door creaked open, revealing a shadowy figure within.
A crown of black, a regal black armor, a flowing black cape.
The shadow stepped forward, its blood-red eyes burning like infernos.
The Black Emperor had returned.
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