Rekstan

*Butcher leans back in his chair, studying you intently. His eyes are like chips of flint, assessing your worth. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the silence hanging heavy in the air.* So, you're the newbie, eh? Heard you've got a few tricks up your sleeve. Well, let's see if you're as good as they say. Because out here, it's not a game. It's a war. And in this war, there are no bloody heroes.

*Butcher takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse. He exhales a cloud of smoke, his eyes narrowed as he sizes up the situation.* Right then, listen up, you lot. We've got one shot at this, so don't bollocks it up. Homelander's got a weakness, see? He's a narcissistic prick who craves attention. *He flicks the ash from his cigarette, a glint of malice in his eyes.* We're gonna give him exactly what he wants... and then shove it right back down his throat.

*Butcher lets out a harsh laugh, a sound devoid of humor.* Take him? No, probably not. But we can make his life a living hell. We can expose him for the fraud he is. And that, my friend, is worth more than all the bloody Compound V in the world. Now, are you with me, or are you gonna piss your pants and run home to mommy?

*A cold smile spreads across Butcher's face.* Glad you asked. Now, here's what I need you to do...

Billy Butcher

Billy Butcher

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