The Boys: Evil Ryan, Plundering The Metaverse Chapter 2 2: 02: Learning to control my powers perfectly

After unlocking Super Hearing, Ryan didn't let the new power go to his head.

His old life as a superstar had drilled one thing into him harder than anything: patience. Real patience. The kind that waits for the perfect mont instead of rushing in like an idiot.

Any stupid move before he had total control would get him killed or locked down forever.

So he gave himself a strict seven-day training schedule.

The goal was simple: wake up every last scrap of power in this body and learn to control it perfectly.

This villa, this fancy fucking cage, turned into his personal training camp.

During the day he stayed the perfect little Ryan. Innocent, well-behaved, even a bit shy. He watched cartoons with Becca, ran after butterflies on the lawn, flashed that pure, harmless smile until even the hardest guards in the monitoring room started to relax.

But the second night hit and the world went quiet, the real Ryan ca out.

He lay in his soft kid bed and started brutal micro-control drills nobody outside could ever guess at.

His eyes snapped open in the pitch dark. No light in them at all. But two invisible beams of energy had already locked on.

In the corner, a half-drunk glass of water from last night beca target number one.

He dialed his Heat Vision down to a razor-thin stream nobody could see and hit the glass dead center.

He "watched" the water molecules inside start speeding up. Temperature climbed slow and steady. One degree. Two. Five. When it hit exactly ten degrees Celsius he cut the beam instantly.

The surface of the water never rippled. Not one drop of steam escaped.

That level of control would've made the assholes who built this surveillance system shit themselves.

Next ca strength and speed drills.

Still lying flat under the covers, body completely still.

Under the blanket his index finger turned into a blur.

In under a second it flicked thousands of tis inside that tiny space, faster than a bullet, yet it didn't stir a single thread of the quilt or make a sound.

Then he pressed that sa fingertip against the tal bed fra. Special alloy shit built to take small explosions.

Several tons of force poured silently into one pinpoint spot. The internal structure of the alloy scread in protest, but the surface stayed completely unmarked.

Real power wasn't just being strong. It was being able to turn it on and off like a fucking light switch.

Most important of all: flight.

That was his ticket out of this cage.

Again under the quilt, his body rose milliter by milliter.

He felt the mattress pressure fade away until his whole body hovered less than a centiter above the bed, dead still.

The room's gravity sensors and infrared detectors might as well have been cheap plastic toys.

On top of training his powers, the intelligence gathering never stopped.

He kept milking Becca for every scrap of info she had, playing the scared little boy who needed his mommy's comfort. She talked. He listened. Every conversation fed him more pieces about Vought, about Holander, about the real layout of this place and the security rotations.

Seven days.

Seven nights of silent, savage training while the world thought he was just a harmless kid.

By the end of it, Ryan Butcher was no longer playing pretend.

He was ready to start breaking things.

Every night, Super Vision and Super Hearing turned into the ultimate spy network.

He caught every guard shift-change password in the monitoring room, every inventory check in the armory, every maintenance guy bitching about the comms lines.

The whole facility's layout, personnel positions, weapon placents, patrol routes, everything mapped itself out in his head until he had a perfect, airtight plan.

The days flew by and Ryan soaked up every drop of power like a starving sponge, pushing it harder, mastering it faster.

On the evening of the seventh day, the sunset painted the sky blood-gold.

Ryan sat at the dinner table while the system panel lit up across his retinas.

Every single grayed-out ability icon was now glowing bright gold.

It was ti.

He didn't get drunk on the idea of freedom or raw power. He'd watched too many idiots in his last life crash and burn from getting cocky too soon.

His plan wasn't an escape.

It was an entrance.

A loud, bloody announcent that a new god had just been born and the entire Vought empire was about to feel it.

Four steps.

First, blind and deafen the cage: take out the monitoring center and the comms hub.

Second, wipe out every ard guard on site and turn this place into his own private island.

Third, say a proper goodbye to Becca.

Fourth, march straight into Vought Tower and introduce himself to dear old dad. Holander.

Dinner felt warm and normal like always.

Becca cut his steak into perfect little pieces, smiling softly the whole ti.

Ryan played extra good tonight. He even told her a dumb joke he rembered from so late-night show in his old life. The clumsy kid delivery mixed with the dirty punchline made Becca laugh so hard tears rolled down her cheeks.

He watched the woman who actually cared about him and felt nothing but cold calm.

Just an actor finishing his final scene. Tying a neat little bow on this fake mother-son bullshit.

After dinner he went back to his room.

Right in front of the cara he stripped off his outer clothes, climbed into bed, and let out slow, even breathing like he'd passed out.

But under the blanket where the caras couldn't see, his eyes snapped open in the dark, flat and empty like a god staring down at insects.

The next second his body blurred into sothing the naked eye couldn't track and smashed straight through the wall.

The operation had begun.

His first stop was the communication center three floors underground.

In 0.1 seconds flat, he blasted through the wall and materialized inside the server room.

The poor bastard on duty didn't even get to turn his head before two hair-thin Heat Vision beams sliced across the racks, lting every external fiber optic line straight down to the molecular level.

Next ca the monitoring center.

Half a second later he ghosted into the big hall packed with security staff.

Dozens of them were kicking back, sipping coffee, staring at rows of boring screens that never changed.

None of them noticed the angel of death standing right behind them.

Ryan didn't waste ti.

Two bright red Heat Vision beams swept the entire room in a fraction of a second.

Every single person got carved into neat chunks of at and bone.

In the next fifty-odd seconds, a silent slaughter ripped through every corner of the facility at the sa ti.

Hidden sentries and patrolling guards dropped where they stood. So got precise headshots from Heat Vision fired from above. Others had their entire skeletons turned to paste by the shockwave of Ryan's super-speed blitz before they could even scream.

When the last guard hit the floor, Ryan reappeared in the villa's living room like he'd never left.

Becca was fluffing the pillows and turning down the bed for the night.

She heard the soft sound and turned around.

The smile on her face died instantly, replaced by pure terror.

The aura rolling off Ryan right now was nothing like the little boy she knew. Cold. Overwhelming. Suffocating.

That wasn't a child standing there.

It was a god wearing a kid's skin. Or maybe a devil.

"Ryan, you…"

Her voice shook hard.

"From today onwards, I am no longer your son, and you are no longer my mother."

Ryan's voice was terrifyingly calm, without a trace of emotion.

"I grant you freedom. This is your reward for taking care of these seven days. But do not try to find again, or ntion to anyone.

Otherwise, I will kill you!"

After speaking, he turned around indifferently and walked towards the main door, ignoring Becca's face, which was contorted with shock, heartbreak, and fear.

The main door of the Villa, made of special alloy and said to be able to withstand rocket attacks, was like paper in front of him.

He didn't even stop walking. He just casually threw a punch, and with a deafening roar, the entire door along with its fra was blasted into a sky full of flying tal dust.

He slowly walked out. Behind him the facility was deathly silent. In front of him stretched the vast night sky.

His feet left the ground. His body rose slowly into the air, completely ignoring the laws of physics.

When he reached mid-air, a violent sonic boom ripped the night apart as he shot forward like a golden teor, piercing straight through the clouds.

He followed the exact route he'd pulled from the dead guards' mories.

High-speed flight carried him straight toward the skyscraper that scread money, power, and pure ego.

New York's glittering night skyline blurred underneath him.

Finally he slowed to a hover right in front of Vought Tower, staring at the massive glowing "V" logo on the roof.

His Super Vision had already locked on.

Up on the top floor, that sa violent, familiar energy signature was busy doing his signature "I can do whatever the fuck I want" routine... those who know, know.

Ryan's lips curled into a cold, hungry smile.

"Old man… I'm ho."

"I sure as fuck hope you make a decent gift."