Walter awaits your challenge.

On this vast land, countless "freaks" hidden in the shadows saw the light for the first time.

Many others who were considered outcasts, marginalized, and forced to eke out a living in circuses or underground boxing matches now raised their heads.

The people of the motherland were right, this is a ticket.

A ticket that transforms them from "monsters" into "gods".

Desire, like weeds, grew wildly on American soil.

Eastern Europe, Sokovia.

Hydra's secret base.

There is no sunlight here, only a cold, blue glow, the radiation emanating from the Mind Gem on the scepter.

Baron Wolfgang von Strucker stood before the bulletproof glass, his spectacles reflecting a cold light.

"It seems our American friends have made quite a stir."

Strucker looked at the tablet in his hand, which displayed the promotional page for the Walter Reed Reality Show.

"Who will be the next superhero...?" He scoffed. "Such typical American arrogance. Turning evolution into entertainment, and power into a commodity."

"But he succeeded, sir." Dr. Lister, standing behind him, adjusted his glasses. "He's building a superhuman army, and legally at that."

Strucker turned around and looked at the center of the laboratory, where two figures in lab coats were standing.

One male and one female.

Wanda Maximoff sat cross-legged on the ground, red energy swirling around her fingertips like living blood vessels. She stared blankly into the void, a hint of neurotic anxiety in her eyes.

Her brother, Pietro Maximov, was like a cheetah trapped in a cage. He paced back and forth in the cramped space, moving so fast that he was only a fleeting silver blur.

These twin siblings lost their parents when they were 10 years old in a missile attack by Stark Industries, becoming war orphans.

This tragedy became a turning point in the siblings' lives, sowing the seeds of hatred towards Tony Stark.

Driven by revenge, the adult siblings volunteered to participate in Hydra's secret experiments. Under Baron Strucker's guidance, they came into contact with Loki's Scepter, and the power of the Mind Stone activated their superpowers.

"We need eyes," Strucker said in a low voice. "Nick Fury is busy catching the mole, and the SHIELD informants can't be touched for the time being, but we can't go blind."

"We need to know, what exactly is this so-called 'Vought'? What is the source of Homelander's power?"

Strucker pressed the communication button.

"Pietro, stop."

The silver afterimage in the cell froze in an instant.

Pietro stopped in front of the glass, looking impatient.

"What kind of test is it now, Baron?" Pietro's tone was barbed. "Is it to make me run faster than a bullet? Or to smash through this wall?"

"No, this is a mission."

Strucker placed the tablet against the glass, displaying the poster for "Who is the Next?".

"Vought International is recruiting superheroes."

"Ha!" Pietro laughed, a scornful laugh. "A superhero? You mean like that Iron Turtle Stark? Waving like a clown in front of the camera?"

"Exactly." Strucker said expressionlessly. "I need you to participate."

"What?!"

Wanda, who had been silent in the corner, suddenly looked up, her eyes blazing with red light. "No! Pietro isn't going anywhere!"

"Wanda, calm down." Strucker's voice came through the loudspeaker. "This is for Sokovia. This is for our revenge."

He looked at Pietro. "Stark is in America, the Avengers are in America. And this Homelander... he's an American bastard too. We need to infiltrate his inner circle."

"I want you to become a member of the 'Seven'."

Pietro looked at Homelander's perfectly smiling face on the poster, then glanced at Wanda behind him.

"I'll go," he said.

"Pietro!" Wanda rushed over and grabbed his hand. "That's America! That's the enemy's headquarters!"

"That's the fun, isn't it?" Pietro gave a confident, even arrogant, smile.

He looked at Strucker, "But I have a condition."

"explain."

"If I become one of those Seven's biggest stars..." Pietro's eyes turned cold. "I need your promise that no one will ever touch Wanda again. No experiments, no pain."

Strucker was silent for two seconds, then smiled.

"make a deal."

"Get ready, Pietro! Your flight departs in six hours. Remember, your current identity is that of a refugee from Eastern Europe yearning for the American Dream. Americans love this persona."

Pietro snorted coldly.

"Since it's a reality show... let me go and bring those Americans a little shock from Sokovia."

……

Chicago, Illinois.

Margaret Sisters' School for Girls. (Actually, it's a run-down bar full of mercenaries.)

The air here is composed of 90% nicotine, 5% cheap alcohol, and 5% the smell of vomit.

Wade Wilson sat on a high stool in the far corner of the bar.

He was wearing a dirty red hoodie with the hood pulled down low, and a makeshift mask that looked like it was made from red thermal underwear.

"Weasel, another one." Wade tapped the bar. "Don't spit in it this time. Even though my sense of taste is gone, I can still taste the asparagus you ate yesterday."

The bartender, Weasel, who looked like a mutated hamster exposed to radiation, slammed a glass of murky liquid down in front of him with annoyance.

"You already owe me three hundred dollars, Wade. This isn't a charity. Even though it's called a school, I can't teach you how to be a person."

"Three hundred dollars? No way." Wade exaggeratedly clutched his chest. "I just pulled off a big one last week! I helped that drug dealer find his lost Chihuahua!"

"Then you sold the Chihuahua to another drug dealer, making money twice, only to lose it all in Scar's bet." The weasel ruthlessly exposed him, "And that drug dealer is now offering a five thousand dollar reward for your dog's head."

"That's because he doesn't know how to appreciate things! That 'dog' clearly prefers its new owner!"

Wade grabbed his glass and downed it in one gulp.

The alcohol flowed down his throat, scraping like a razor blade.

Cool.

But he was still in pain.

It hurts all the time.

Ever since that damned lab explosion in 1989, every inch of his skin and every nerve in his body has been screaming.

His cells were constantly dying, only to regenerate wildly under the catalysis of the Cosmic Cube's energy.

It's like having a party with ten million ants in his veins, and it's a heavy metal rock party.

Only by talking, talking incessantly, and spouting nonsense can you distract him and prevent him from going crazy.

"Okay, I am a bit... having some cash flow problems right now." Wade sighed, reached into his hoodie pocket, and pulled out a crumpled coupon. "A buy-one-get-one-free burrito coupon, to settle your drinking debt, how about it?"

"roll."

Just then, that annoying, rousing music started playing again from the old television in the bar.

"...Are you special? Do you crave glory? Walter...come and fight!"

Homelander's high-definition, uncensored face took up half the screen.