The Youngsters Here

On the screen, the majestic soundtrack in the style of Hans Zimmer is roaring, a symphony of destiny woven from the deep French horn and the stirring violin.

In the scene, a massive nuclear bomb streaks across the sky, leaving a trail of flames. Beneath the bomb, a red and blue figure, with a resolute posture, lifts this destructive weapon and hurtles towards the wormhole that tears the sky apart.

This is the final scene of Homelander: Origins.

There are few lines and no melodramatic slow-motion scenes typical of Hollywood.

The camera gave a close-up: in the last second before rushing into the darkness of the wormhole, Wu Yanzu's character "Homelander" looked back at New York below.

On that face, there was no fear, no hesitation. Only a trace of... longing for the mortal world.

At that moment, he was not a god, but a man preparing to die.

"For...the family."

He whispered the line amidst the howling wind.

Then, the light engulfed everything.

The white light of the nuclear explosion burst open on the screen, and the entire IMAX theater seemed to shake.

Immediately afterwards, the screen went black.

Silence enveloped the three-thousand-seat Dolby Theatre.

No one spoke, no one ate popcorn, and even breathing seemed to have stopped.

A few seconds later, the screen lit up again.

It was a dusty, grimy street in New York, with ruins and swirling smoke.

A figure descended from the sky, holding the alien life support pod in its hands.

The image freezes.

A line of white text, as if carved into obsidian, slowly emerged:

"You are the true heroes." — Homelander

There was no warning whatsoever.

"Whoosh—!!!"

The applause erupted like a burst dam, instantly flooding the entire hall.

It wasn't just polite applause, but heartfelt applause, even a roaring outburst of emotion.

The audience in the front row stood up first, followed by the middle row, and finally the back row.

Thousands of people stood up at the same time, and the applause was thunderous and lasted for a long time.

Some people were screaming, and some were wiping away tears from the corners of their eyes.

The vast majority of them were firsthand witnesses to the Battle of New York.

This is the power of "authenticity".

These aren't special effects actors in motion capture suits in front of a green screen; the heroes who saved the world on that screen are sitting right among them.

This shocking breaking of the fourth wall makes the film's impact explode exponentially.

"Ding! You have gained 10,450 popularity points!"

"Ding! You have gained 9,110 popularity points!"

"Ding! You have gained 15,330 popularity points!"

"..."

As Wu Yanzu listened to the frantically beeping system notifications, a smile involuntarily crept onto his face. This gave him immense confidence that the film would continue to garner popularity during its global release.

"That's right..." he murmured to himself, "Cry, scream, and then... fall in love with me."

He stood up and turned to face the audience.

At that moment, the applause grew to an even higher decibel level.

Tony Stark also stood up.

The billionaire, who is usually full of critical thinking, had a somewhat complicated expression on his face at this moment.

He looked at the frozen image on the big screen, then at Wu Yanzu, who was bathed in glory.

"Okay..." Tony didn't immediately switch to his usual sarcastic mode.

He turned his head and whispered to Steve Rogers, "I hate this guy... but I have to admit, the special effects in this movie are fucking amazing... just like the real thing."

“That’s true, Tony.” Steve Rogers was clapping, his eyes filled with emotion. “That really happened that day. He just… filled in the part we didn’t see.”

"He captured that feeling, Tony," Steve said softly. "That... the feeling of rushing forward to protect the people behind you, even knowing you might not come back. In that moment... he was a hero."

Natasha Romanov remained silent beside the two men.

As S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agent and the Red Room's most powerful "Black Widow," she never easily trusts what she sees.

Before the movie started, she even had the mindset of "watching how this narcissist beautifies himself".

but now……

She looked at the man on stage waving to the audience.

There's a scene in the movie where Homelander is imprisoned by the "Chaos" organization. During countless inhumane experiments, he huddles in a cold corner of his cell, clutching a crumpled candy wrapper with the Stars and Stripes printed on it.

That was his only source of emotional support.

That look... that look of someone stripped of their humanity, treated like a wild animal, yet still yearning for light.

Natasha's heart skipped a beat.

She had seen that look in the mirror of the "Red House" countless times.

"Perhaps..." Natasha took a deep breath, suppressing the inexplicable sorrow in her heart, and murmured to herself, "Perhaps beneath that perfect mask... there really is a broken soul?"

As Natasha watched Wu Yanzu's retreating figure, a hint of gentleness appeared in her previously cold gaze for the first time.

At this moment, Wu Yanzu's performance, surpassing that of an award-winning actor, successfully cracked a gap in the female agent's defenses.

……

The mixed zone after the screening was a disaster.

It could also be described as a carnival.

Hundreds of journalists tried to break through the security lines like a zombie apocalypse, even if it was just to capture a glimpse of Homelander's back.

"Mr. Homelander! Box office predictions suggest it will break $500 million in its opening weekend! What do you think?"

"Mr. Starr! Is this true? You were really locked up in the lab for a whole year?"

"Queen Jones! Is Homelander your boyfriend? Are you and Homelander really together?"

Wu Yanzu maintained a perfect smile as he walked through the crowd, escorted by security guards.

He would occasionally pause to answer one or two trivial questions, each movement executed with impeccable elegance.

Just then.

Excuse me! Excuse me!

"sorry!"

"Oh! My foot... I'm sorry!"

A slender figure, like a nimble eel, weaved between the tall, burly bodyguards and the frenzied reporters.

It was a boy who looked only eleven or twelve years old.

He was wearing a faded plaid shirt, carrying a bulging backpack, and wearing black-rimmed glasses. He was sweating profusely, his hair was messy, and he looked both disheveled and unremarkable.

But his brown eyes were strikingly bright.

Tonight, he spent all the pocket money he had saved for three months to get a standing ticket in the very corner.

But he doesn't care.

He watched the entire movie, and his heart is still pounding wildly in his chest, feeling like it's about to jump out.

The sheer awe... a person with godlike power, yet willing to die for mortals, willing to endure suffering to protect the weak...

With great power comes great responsibility...

The boy silently recited the line in his mind.

These words, like a bolt of lightning, cleaved open his ordinary, even somewhat timid, teenage world.