The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.

~ Marcus Aurelius

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The genes of a Viltrumite have absolute stability. They can breed with most alien races across the universe.

No matter how strange the offspring look at first, by the time they reach adulthood they always settle into the classic Viltrumite shape.

Thaedus of the Viltrumite Empire created the scourge virus to hit Viltrumite genes directly. Viltrumites had no defense against it. Once he released it, the empire got gutted. It almost killed the entire Viltrumite population. Fewer than fifty survived.

Every last one of them still carried traces of the scourge virus in their bodies. Those traces should have been enough to kill Hillel.

His bloodline and genes were built different. They kept him alive.

[Virus invasion complete — progress 100%]

[Immune antibody synthesis complete — progress 100%]

[Effect acquired: Immune to scourge virus (targets all similar specific protein structures, 100% immunity)]

Hillel lay in the ICU for three full days before he finally woke up.

"Holy shit!"

"The scourge virus couldn’t even kill me? This thing was built to wipe out the entire Viltrumite genetic sequence!"

He clenched his fists. His strength hadn’t dropped at all. Instead he’d gained full resistance to anything built around similar protein structures.

In plain English, even whatever upgraded scourge virus Thaedus was still hiding somewhere couldn’t touch him now.

"Hillel? You’re awake?"

Starlight had gone out for water and came back to wipe him down. She stepped through the door and saw him standing there, thinking hard.

She rushed forward and crushed him in a tight hug.

"Yeah, I’m fine."

Hillel gave her firm ass a solid pat.

"Looks like I’m not that popular. You’re the only one who bothered guarding the hospital room?"

He grinned.

Annie ran her hands over every inch of his skin. It was rock hard. He was completely fine.

She had a thousand questions but grabbed her phone and called Ashley instead.

"...Yeah... He’s awake.... Homelander’s on his way? Fine, whatever, I can already see him coming..."

"...He’s really okay. His powers... I don’t know yet. We’ll figure it out tonight..."

She hung up just as Homelander kicked the door off its hinges and strode in wearing a gas mask.

"Hey! My good brother, it’s fucking great to see you up!" Homelander said. "A bastard like you actually woke up? You threaten the Devil to let you back or something?"

Hillel raised his middle finger. "Fuck off, John!"

He saw the gas mask and knew this whole brotherly act was pure bullshit.

"Take that thing off. I didn’t catch a virus. You look like a little sissy with no balls at all," Hillel said.

Homelander shrugged. "Bro, you’re not a biology expert. I’m not dying in here."

Hmph! Serves you right if your brains get splattered all over the walls.

Hillel didn’t push it. When they asked what happened he fed them the story he’d already worked out.

"It had to be some powerful psychic supe. I beat him inside the dream world. Guy probably died in a ditch somewhere." The lie held up.

Ten minutes later Edgar arrived.

As a Vought supe, The Guardian’s survival was tied directly to the company. That was exactly why he and the board hated how Vought turned everything into cheap entertainment.

Edgar listened to the explanation.

He didn’t question it much. Starlight lived with Hillel. If this had been a virus aimed at Supes, she would have been hit too.

"Homelander, I’ve warned you before. Stop running those underhanded games behind my back. You think I don’t know what A-Train’s been doing? What good does it do us to ship Compound V all over the world?"

"Do you have any idea how complicated human genes really are? One tiny mutation can rewrite human history. You’re creating new threats for yourself!"

Edgar bought the story.

Perhaps a powerful supe really had been born somewhere, one who could attack other supes’ minds from a distance and knock them into a coma.

Homelander’s face stayed dark and unreadable.

With this many people around, Edgar still had the balls to dress him down in public? Did the old man not want to stay in charge of Vought anymore?

"The Guardian, are your powers affected?" Like Ashley, Edgar’s first concern was whether Hillel could still be useful.

Annie’s mouth opened, but Hillel raised a hand and stopped her.

He looked at the bulletproof glass. Red light flared deep in his eyes.

A blast of Omega Beams slammed into the pane and melted the whole thing into slag.

He picked up an empty oxygen tank, squeezed it between both hands like it was made of paper, and crushed it down into a tight little metal ball.

His feet left the floor. He floated up, legs crossed, hovering in the air.

"Oh, Maeve is wearing purple."

He said it casually when he spotted Maeve finally arriving.

Edgar gave him a long look, half convinced, half doubtful. "Maeve, what color are you wearing today?"

Maeve blinked. "What?"

"Your panties!"

"Sir, that’s sexual harassment!"

"Never mind that shit. Just tell me if they’re purple!"

Starlight: "..."

Homelander: "..."

Hillel: "..."

Maeve finally nodded and admitted they were, in fact, purple.

"It’s good that you’re fine. Welcome back to the warm, happy Vought family. Lucky for us you weren’t out long. The outside world never got wind of it. I expect every single person here to keep their mouth shut about what happened today."

Standing in a room full of supes, Edgar still managed to completely shut Homelander down.

"Now you can take off that ridiculous gas mask. Wearing that thing won’t do a damn thing against the virus. You’d need a full hazmat suit. Try learning some basic science."

Edgar gave Homelander one last look, then walked out.

Hillel clapped a hand on Homelander’s shoulder and started laughing so hard he bent over.

"Fuck off!"

Homelander slapped the hand away.

He never should have given a shit about The Guardian’s safety. He should have just let the bastard die.

Homelander stormed out, face bright red. His movements were lighter than usual, though. Even his pigeon-toed flying stance looked less pathetic.

"So. Now you can explain."

Annie stood with her arms crossed, staring at him like she was deciding whether to punch him or set him on fire.

Maeve felt the temperature drop and turned for the door.

"Good luck."

She left that one line behind and walked out, leaving Hillel and Annie alone in the room.

"Explain what?"

Hillel played dumb.

"Don’t play stupid with me."

Annie grabbed his ear and twisted. With his current durability she might as well have been pinching a brick.

"You thick-skinned bastard!"

She was furious.

"Do you know, baby, during those three days I was in a coma, every single minute, every single second, I was thinking about you?"

Hillel felt disgusted with himself the second the words left his mouth.

Annie’s face went red. She punched him in the chest, threw the window open, and flew out into the night.

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