The Boys: I'm the New Hue, I Need More Power

Chapter 26: The Whispers of Experimentation

" Okay, so we're going after a secret Vought facility where they 'develop' new Supes. Which, by the way, sounds less like a research lab and more like a very illegal, very unethical puppy mill, but for superpowered humans. My life is officially a very niche, very disturbing episode of 'X-Men: The Prequel, But With More Swearing and Accidental Murder.' And I'm the unwilling star. And that hum. It's still there. A low, persistent thrumming, like a broken washing machine in my chest. It's vibrating with the anticipation of what's to come, reacting to the grim purpose of this… this contraption. It's like my internal 'moral compass' is spinning wildly, pointing somewhere between 'righteous vengeance' and 'impending psychological trauma.' This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm just going to stand here and try not to accidentally reveal that I know the entire plot of 'The Boys' TV show. Because that would really complicate things. Especially the part where I, you know, don't have more powers yet. And now I have to worry about a new, unseen threat. Great. "

The journey to the coordinates Frenchie had pinpointed was long and arduous. They drove for hours, leaving the familiar, grimy urban sprawl behind, pushing deeper into a desolate, heavily forested area. The asphalt roads gave way to gravel, then to muddy, overgrown tracks barely wide enough for Butcher's beat-up van. The air grew colder with every mile, the silence deeper, broken only by the crunch of their boots on fallen leaves and the distant, unsettling hum in Hughie's chest. It was faint at first, a mere whisper, like a forgotten melody, but as they drew closer to the coordinates, it intensified, becoming a low, resonant thrum that seemed to vibrate in the very ground beneath their feet, a subtle tremor that spoke of immense, contained power. This wasn't just a building; it was a nexus of power, a place where Compound V was not just consumed, but created, its raw, volatile essence seeping into the very earth.

"This is the place," Hughie whispered, his voice tight, the hum in his chest now a frantic, desperate pulse, a chaotic symphony of overlapping energy signatures. He could feel it now, distinct and numerous, like a disturbed beehive of raw, unrefined power, buzzing just beneath the surface of the world. It felt… wrong. Twisted. Like the very fabric of reality was being stretched and warped, strained by an unnatural force. The air itself seemed to crackle with latent energy.

Butcher nodded, his face grim, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his crowbar, his eyes scanning the dense treeline. M.M. scanned the surroundings with his rifle, his brow furrowed with a deep sense of unease, his usual calm replaced by a tense alertness. Frenchie, however, was practically vibrating with excitement, a mad scientist's glee in his eyes, his various sensors and meters beeping and flashing wildly, their needles dancing across their dials.

"The energy readings are… off the charts, mon ami!" Frenchie exclaimed, his voice hushed with awe, almost reverent. "This is not just a lab. This is a… a reactor! A birthplace of Supes! And the signatures… they are so young. So raw. So… new. Like they are just beginning to form. It is… magnifique! And horrifying!"

" A birthplace of Supes. Great. Because that's exactly what the world needs. More super-powered babies. My life is officially a very niche, very disturbing episode of 'Baby Geniuses: Supe Edition,' but with more screaming and less coherent plot. And I'm the unwilling star. This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm just going to stand here and try not to accidentally reveal that I know the entire plot of 'The Boys' TV show. Because that would really complicate things. Especially the part where I, you know, don't have more powers yet. And now I have to worry about a new, unseen threat. Great. "

They finally found the facility, a masterwork of clandestine engineering, hidden beneath a cleverly disguised rock face. A massive, reinforced steel door, seamlessly integrated into the natural landscape, blended so perfectly with the surrounding stone that it was almost impossible to discern. It was old, clearly decommissioned years ago, covered in moss and lichen, but the faint, powerful hum emanating from within told a different story. This place was active. And it was alive, pulsating with a dark, hidden purpose.

Butcher immediately began to formulate a plan, his eyes narrowed, assessing the subtle signs of security. "Frenchie, get that door open. M.M., perimeter. Keep your eyes peeled for anything. Anything at all. Hughie, you're with me. Your hum's our guide. You feel anything, any change, any other presence, you tell me. Anything at all. Don't hesitate."

Hughie nodded, his heart hammering against his ribs, a drum solo of dread. He focused on the hum, letting it guide him, letting it warn him. He could feel the chaotic energy within, the whispers of experimentation, of lives being twisted and reshaped, of human potential being perverted. It was sickening, a profound violation that made his stomach churn.

Frenchie, with a series of precise, almost surgical movements, produced a small, intricate device and began working on the ancient, yet surprisingly complex, security system. Wires sparked, lights flickered, and a low, mechanical groan echoed from within the rock. After a tense few minutes, a heavy clunk resonated through the air. The massive steel door groaned open, revealing a dark, sterile corridor that stretched endlessly into the earth, reeking of ozone and something faintly metallic, like stale blood and burnt circuitry. The hum in Hughie's chest intensified, a high-pitched whine that grated on his nerves, a piercing alarm bell.

"It's… it's strong in here," Hughie whispered, his voice strained, barely audible over the internal din. "So many different signatures. So many… young ones. Like a chorus of tiny, terrified screams."

As they moved deeper into the facility, the whispers grew louder, the hum more intense, a swirling vortex of nascent powers. They passed abandoned labs, dusty equipment covered in tarps, and empty containment cells, their reinforced glass scratched and opaque. The air grew colder, a chilling sensation that had nothing to do with the temperature of the underground facility. Hughie felt the familiar, chilling presence of the "cold" Supe, faint but undeniable, a distinct void in the chaotic symphony of other hums. He was here. Or had been here. Recently.

"He's been here," Hughie hissed, clutching his chest, his eyes darting into the shadows. "The cold one. His hum… it's all over this place. Like a lingering chill. A fresh trail. He's been here and gone, or he's still here, hiding."

Butcher's face hardened, his eyes narrowing, scanning the dark corridor. "Right. So, Vought's already got eyes on this place. Which means we're on a timer. We need to find what they're hiding. And we need to get out. Fast. This ain't a bloody holiday, mates."

They finally reached a deeper section of the facility, a series of reinforced chambers humming with a low, powerful energy, distinct from the chaotic hum of the nascent powers. This was the source, the heart of the operation. Hughie felt the hum in his chest reach an almost unbearable crescendo, a symphony of raw, unchanneled power, vibrating with a terrifying, artificial life. He could feel the life within, young and fragile, yet terrifyingly potent, like a storm brewing in a teacup.

"This is it," Hughie whispered, his eyes wide with horror, a cold knot of dread tightening in his stomach. "This is where they're doing it. This is where they're making them. The Nursery."

One of the chambers had a massive, reinforced glass observation window, thick and opaque, yet allowing a distorted view into the room beyond. Hughie peered inside, his breath catching in his throat, a gasp escaping his lips. It was a sterile, brightly lit room, bathed in an eerie, pulsating blue light. And in the center, hooked up to a complex array of tubes and wires, was a young child. A baby, no older than a few months, suspended in a liquid-filled chamber, its tiny body glowing faintly, pulsating with an unnatural energy.

" Oh, my God. They're doing it to babies. They're giving Compound V to babies. This is… this is beyond sick. This is pure evil. This is the absolute bottom. And that hum. It's screaming with a raw, desperate rage now. It's not just detecting power. It's detecting injustice. A profound, unforgivable sin. And it's telling me… it's telling me I have to do something. Something more. Something that actually stops this. Something that burns this place to the ground. But what? What can I do? I'm just Hughie. The guy with the reactive rock skin. And a very, very loud hum. "

Hughie felt a surge of pure, unadulterated fury. This was why they fought. This was the true face of Vought. Not just the corporate greed, not just the reckless Supes, but the systematic creation of them, the exploitation of innocent lives. The scent of blood was in the air, but it was the blood of innocents, of stolen childhoods. And Hughie, with his Carbon Skin and his Supe-sensing hum, felt a terrifying, righteous anger ignite within him. This was a war. And he was ready to fight.

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