"First I need Vought to invite to their headquarters for a little sit-down..."
Jovian thought it over, casually pulled out his phone, opened The Seven’s official website, and recorded a short video.
"My na is Jovian Grayson. You can call Freeman1. And as you can see, I’m exactly the kind of all-Arican underdog story people love. My parents split up, and my mom raised on her own..."
Jovian held the phone and rambled on and on. Strip it down, and it was just him stacking buffs on himself.
No one understood the U.S. playbook better than Jovian. Nothing worked like a perfectly curated pile of "buffs."
At Vought, the employees responsible for reviewing The Seven’s recruitnt videos logged in like usual and started clicking through submission after submission. Ever since Lamplighter retired because he "couldn’t make enough money"...
Ahem. Ever since Lamplighter retired because he was "too exhausted," they’d been getting thousands upon thousands of intro videos every day. Every single applicant swore they could replace Lamplighter and beco the newest mber of The Seven. But honestly? Every video sounded the sa, and none of them matched what Vought actually wanted.
Until today.
One reviewer watched Jovian’s video while sipping coffee.
"I’m from a single-parent household, I’m vegan, I’m an environntalist..."
Jovian introduced himself calmly and confidently in the video.
It started off normal enough—until it started getting ridiculous.
"Pff—"
"WTF?! I need to show this to the boss..."
The reviewer listened to buff after buff after buff and nearly choked, spraying coffee straight out of his mouth.
One day later...
"Mr. Grayson."
"My na is Ashley Barrett. I’m the executive assistant assigned to Vought’s superhero division—the one you contacted."
Vought International—the world’s largest superhero manufacturer and the money behind The Seven—had sent a woman with chestnut-colored hair and a fluffy, textured short cut to et Jovian at the base of Vought Tower.
"I’m guessing the fact you ca out to see ans you watched the intro video I sent your company, right?"
Wearing a white, skin-tight suit with a huge F emblazoned across the chest, Jovian looked at the woman and asked.
"Of course."
"Of course I watched your video."
"You’re from a single-parent household, your mom’s a powerhouse, you’re vegan, you’re an environntalist, you’ve got a full suite of powers, you grew up in a rough neighborhood, you volunteer, you advocate, you—"
Ashley rattled off more than fifty absurd "tags." The more she spoke, the more she dabbed at the sweat on her forehead.
She had to admit it: fuck. This guy had so many buffs on him it was unreal.
It had gotten so out of hand that even Mr. Edgar was alerted—he instructed, and effectively ordered, Ashley to personally receive the man calling himself Freeman: Jovian Grayson.
"That’s right. Everything you said is true."
"So... aren’t you going to invite inside?"
Jovian looked at Ashley and asked.
"Of course, please co in..."
Ashley wiped her forehead again and led Jovian into Vought Tower.
"Mr. Grayson, here’s the thing. First, I want to thank you for submitting to the Vought family—"
Ashley guided him toward The Seven’s grand hall, talking nonstop as she walked.
"—I believe this cos from your trust in Vought, so you chose to send us your material. But I also hope you can understand our work processes and rules—"
"Okay, okay, I get it. More or less. So can you just tell whether I made it or not?!"
Jovian sat down right in Holander’s seat, crossed one leg over the other, and looked at Ashley with casual, arrogant ease—like he wasn’t Vought’s guest, but Vought’s owner.
"I’m very sorry. What I an is—there’s a girl nad Starlight, and she fits our standards better than you do."
"But that doesn’t an we’re rejecting you. You can still work at Vought. Besides The Seven, we have many other super teams."
"We can even build a custom team around you. A whole brand tailored to you—your image, your story, your values. What do you think?"
Ashley looked at Jovian with open anticipation. She could sll money on him.
"Maybe you didn’t hear ."
"What I’m saying is, I’m only joining The Seven."
Jovian leaned back in the swivel chair, legs still crossed, and gave Ashley a bright, sunny smile.
"Then we have nothing to discuss!"
"There are only seven spots in The Seven. With Starlight already locked in, it’s full."
"You’ll have to look elsewhere. But before you go, please sign a statent confirming that Vought did everything we could to invite you."
Ashley smoothed her short hair and pulled a contract out of her bag.
"I don’t see any reason to sign that."
Jovian looked at the agreent and shook his head.
"If you do that, you’re making this very difficult for us."
Ashley’s face fell imdiately. Jovian wasn’t going to work for Vought, and he wasn’t going to sign their paperwork either. That was a PR nightmare.
"It’s not difficult."
"At the end of the day, the only reason I can’t join The Seven is because The Seven has only seven seats, right?"
Jovian asked, relaxed and comfortable in the chair.
"Of course."
Ashley nodded, chin lifted, wearing that proud little swan expression.
"If we can’t rena it The Eight, then there’s only one way I can join The Seven."
"After Starlight fills the vacancy, The Seven needs to open up one more seat."
As he spoke, Jovian stood up and walked toward the hall’s doorway.
"What are you doing?"
Ashley’s expression tightened. A bad feeling crawled up her spine.
"Shh."
Jovian lifted a finger, blew lightly across his knuckle as a silent warning for her to shut up, then walked straight to a corner of the hall.
Ashley didn’t know what he was about to do, but she clamped her mouth shut anyway—so hard she instinctively held her breath.
"Since when is it seven people?"
"Right now it’s only six!"
"Holander, Queen Maeve, A-Train, Black Noir, The Deep, Starlight—plus makes seven."
As he said that, Jovian raised his hand toward the empty air in front of him.
"If I were you, I wouldn’t be standing here with your ass out, spying on our conversation."
Jovian swung his fist hard into the air.
In the next second, a splash of blood appeared on the floor of The Seven’s hall.
"Now count again. With Starlight included, doesn’t The Seven only have six people left?"
"So I can join now, right?!"
Jovian grabbed a communal stack of paper towels from the hall and calmly wiped the blood off his glove.
"My God... did you just kill Translucent?!"
Ashley stared at the sared, censored-looking ss on the floor, finally realizing what Jovian had just done.
"What Translucent?"
"That was a super-criminal trying to steal Vought’s confidential information by eavesdropping."
"Relax. That criminal was executed by my hand, just now."
Jovian turned to Ashley and smiled softly.
After binging every season of Better Call Saul, Jovian knew exactly how to armor himself with the law—how to protect himself.
Don’t be afraid of Freeborn ’s brute force. Be afraid of Freeborn when he starts talking legal strategy.
"...Hah... hah... hah..."
Ashley didn’t answer. She just stared at the pile on the floor and gasped for air.
Translucent’s skin was supposed to be as hard as diamond—yet now he’d been turned into a wrecked, unrecognizable mosaic.
The man in front of her was basically another Holander.
No—he was even more volatile. Even more Holander than Holander.
Maybe Vought needed to reassess Jovian’s danger level... and offer him an even higher tier of "treatnt."
As for Translucent?
Please. A superhero who couldn’t make Vought any money wasn’t worth more than a lump of shit.
Not a typo 1
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