Vogelbaum’s estate sat in a secluded valley in Upstate New York, far from the city, far from Vought, and far from everything he had created with his own hands.
The ivy on both sides of the wrought-iron gate was neatly trimd, and the gravel driveway had been laid with ticulous care.
It was the respectable shell of a retired old man.
When Benjamin and Holander landed at the estate’s entrance, Vogelbaum was standing beneath the porch.
He did not hide. He was not foolish enough to call the police, and he made no attempt to run.
Vogelbaum only gave a faint sigh, as if he had been waiting for this day for a long ti.
Naturally, he knew everything that had happened at Vought.
Edgar was dead, Madelyn was dead, the Board of Directors had been wiped out, and he knew better than anyone that he was probably next.
It was only a matter of ti before Holander ca to his door.
"Just ask."
Vogelbaum spoke slowly.
"I’ll tell you the truth."
He glanced at Holander’s expression.
For the mont, Holander’s mood was still relatively stable.
He knew that if he pushed Holander too far, the retirent life he had so carefully maintained here would be gone.
Vogelbaum led the two of them through an oak-floored hallway and into the study.
An entire wall of the study was lined with books, and several faded dals rested on the mantel above the fireplace.
He took a manila envelope from the desk drawer and placed it on the table.
Inside the envelope were Becca and Ryan’s addresses.
Holander stared at the envelope for a long ti. Then he raised his head and asked, "Why did you do this? The deception, the lies... for eight whole years..."
Vogelbaum was silent for a long while.
"To protect you."
He spoke slowly, his voice old and calm.
"Isn’t that what Vought does? Protect our most valuable asset..."
The words had barely left his mouth when Benjamin’s fist swung out.
He held back, since the man was only an ordinary human.
But when his knuckles smashed into Vogelbaum’s face, that aged body still flew backward as if its bones had been yanked out, crashing into the bookshelf and knocking half a row of hardcovers to the floor.
Vogelbaum collapsed sideways on the ground. Nearly all his teeth had been knocked out, and blood mixed with saliva spilled from the corner of his mouth.
His breathing was now rapid and weak, his chest struggling to rise and fall against the floor.
"My son is not a fucking asset!"
Benjamin drew back his fist, his voice cold.
He looked down at the half-dead old man on the floor without a trace of pity in his eyes.
Serves him right.
It would not matter even if he killed him.
"That punch wasn’t just for tricking into so bullshit genetic experint. It was because you insulted my son."
"An asset? My son is not a fucking asset, and he isn’t so product either. He’s a person, a living, breathing person. He is a person first, and a Supe second. Fuck you!"
Holander stood behind Benjamin, his lips slightly parted.
Ever since he was a child, countless people had told him he was an asset, a product, Vought’s most valuable IP, the most successful specin in the lab, and the test subject with the highest priority number in the incubation chamber.
Madelyn said he was Vought’s future.
Edgar said he was their most precious product.
Vogelbaum said he was an asset that needed to be protected.
Even he had almost started to believe it.
Now his father was standing in front of him, telling the old man who had created him: he was not an asset. He was a person.
It took Vogelbaum a long ti to co back to himself.
With a trembling hand, he braced himself against the floor and leaned back against the crooked bookshelf, blood still running from the corner of his mouth. He wanted to say sothing.
Whether it was an excuse or a plea for rcy, Benjamin had already turned away and picked up the manila envelope.
"The address is inside?"
Vogelbaum nodded. Blood dripped from his chin onto the shirt across his chest as he stared at Holander.
"John, listen. I feel guilty. You should have grown up in a family that loved you, not in a cold laboratory, raised by doctors. Now that I’m old, I feel remorse for what I did when I was young."
"When I think about what I did to you, and what you’ll do to others in the future, I just..."
"I’m sorry...
"And you too, Benjamin. I’m sorry."
Holander shook his head. "I don’t need your fucking apology."
"I truly am sorry."
"What do you want? What the hell do you want, saying sorry now?"
Holander snapped back.
"You want my forgiveness? Now?"
By the end, Holander’s lips were even trembling. Whether it was because he had rembered his childhood, or because the old man in front of him had admitted his mistake, even he could not tell.
But either way,
Holander knew it was too late. Far too late.
If Benjamin had raised him from childhood, he never would have turned out like this. Never... would have...
Holander was growing agitated.
"Hypocrite. You damn old bastard," Benjamin cursed.
"I admit it was my mistake. Do whatever you want..."
"I don’t need anything. I’m just an old man who knows he was wrong."
Vogelbaum muttered to himself.
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