Riley Ross

"Does anyone want to speak first?"

No one did, of course. How could they speak when they didn't even truly know how they felt about being there, or about anything at all?

Bernard had just finished a press conference where he had spent damage control while sounding completely empathetic at the same time.

Bulwark had already seen billions of lives lost, and yet never was a loss so tragic to him as Alice.

The Empress was holding Riley's hand, and she was afraid that she would completely lose it once she started to speak.

Megawoman, well, she felt like she had no right to talk as she barely knew Alice and was not even part of the Hope Guild. And… she was the one who ended her life. She had no right even talking about rights at all.

The four only stared at the grave in silence, all thinking they didn't deserve to speak.

A second.

A minute.

Perhaps even an hour, they stayed like that. Letting their sorrows, grief, but most of all, regret, to linger across the tiny expanse of the universe. The colossal dome veiling them provided them with all the oxygen they could ever need in their lifetime, and yet everyone held their breaths, seemingly afraid to break the shield of silence they had already built around themselves.

"Ah, Riley?"

It wasn't until little Riley freed himself from The Empress' hold that the silence finally broke, and everyone watched as he approached his mother's grave. None of them really knew if he understood what was happening, or if he even knew his mother was dead.

The Empress was about to follow him, but he suddenly spoke before she could even take a step forward.

"Mommy is inside?" He said as he pointed at the ground beneath the flowers, "Can… we wake mommy up?"

"Riley…" The Empress covered her mouth as she finally heard Riley speak after so long, but she couldn't find the words to say anything back. She glanced at the others, hoping to ask for help from any of them, but fortunately, Bulwark was there.

"Riley, I am afraid we can not wake your mother," he whispered gently, crouching down beside him. He placed his hand on Riley's tiny shoulder, but he immediately leaned away from him and didn't even bother to look.

"We can… not wake up… mom—mother?" Riley tilted his head as he also crouched down, placing both his knees on the ground before lowering his ear right on top of Alice's grave.

The Empress rushed to get him up, but Bulwark blocked her with his arm and prevented her from doing so. He glanced at her, shaking his head as if quietly telling her to let the little boy be.

Riley closed his eyes, seemingly trying to listen to see if Alice was going to make any noise. But after a few seconds had passed and he couldn't hear anything, he started knocking on the ground.

"Can… you wake up, mother?" He whispered, "Every… everyone is sad and quiet. I… I don't—I do not like it. Can you… hear me, mother? I… I am trying to pronounce each word properly. Mother?"

Riley tried to knock on the ground again, and listen to it for another few seconds before he finally stood up and turned toward the others.

"Why is she not waking up… everyone?" Riley blinked a couple of times. He glanced at their faces at first, but when he saw The Empress looking at him with her red eyes, he quickly looked away.

"Riley, do you know what death is?" Bulwark asked, and The Empress gasped and immediately crouched next to Riley.

"He's two, Bulwark," she snapped at him, "He doesn't need to hear any of those."

"And have you ever seen a two-year-old act like him?" Bulwark sighed while shaking his head, "The boy is… special, Adaeze. I think he will understand."

"Regardless of whether he's special or not, he's two. He—"

Before The Empress could say what she wanted, Riley stepped closer to Bulwark and asked, "What is… death?"

"Death is… when people or things finally reach their destination, Riley," Bulwark smiled at Riley, making sure his gaze was soft and each of his words could be understood by him, "And then once they reach that destination, they will close the door behind them and lock it, and they will throw away the key."

"And mother is… now death?"

"That is… right, Riley. She is dead," Bulwark took in a deep breath.

"And what is mother doing on the other side of the door?"

"I do not know. She could be sleeping, she could be… playing. She can hear you, but you can not hear her, Riley. So, why don't you… say goodbye to her for now?"

"Good…bye?" Riley blinked a couple of times as he turned his focus back on the grave, "But… I do not want to."

"That is fine too," Bulwark softly chuckled, "You can return here, talk to her. And perhaps someday, say your farewells and—"

"I said I do not want to!"

"Wh—?!"

And all of a sudden, Bulwark suddenly found himself being blown away, along with all the dust… an inch of the ground beneath his feet. He couldn't really even react to save himself from falling to the ground.

In fact, none of them could react at all. All they could do was stare at little Riley as his eyes started to flicker, and the whites in them started to show.

But most importantly…

…he was floating in the air.

***

Several minutes later, The Empress and the others were back at the Hope Guild's meeting hall along with Megawoman.

Bernard had just entered the hall, and yet he marched to one of the chairs and practically fell onto it, dropping his arms at his side as he sighed. His armor also looked like it melted away from his body, unlatching itself one by one until it dropped to the floor.

He didn't have any wrinkles on his face just yet, and there wasn't a single strand of gray hair on him—he was also incredibly lean, but his eyes looked extremely exhausted to the point that if he so much as blinked, he would probably fall asleep.

"How… is he?" The Empress asked, resting her arms on the table as she echoed Bernard's sigh.

"He will be knocked out for a few hours, but he's stable," Bernard said, shaking his head at her before glancing at Bulwark, and then at Megawoman, who was standing next to the window.

"So, the boy has TK," he groaned and tapped his fingers anxiously on the table, "And judging from the display he just did, he could potentially rival his mother if he grows up. What do you think, Bulwark? You're the one who got a taste of it."

"I am afraid I would have to agree with you," Bulwark nodded, closing his eyes as another deep breath escaped his lips. "The boy, similar to your daughter, has too much power to be left unchecked. Fortunately, we discovered it here. We—"

"Both of you are wrong."

Before Bulwark could finish his words, Megawoman moved away from the windows and stood behind The Empress.

"I've… seen Alice when she was younger. Sure, she was already displaying telekinesis at a very young age—but not two years old, and not to the point she could blow an adult man away," Megawoman placed her hand on The Empress' shoulder, "But I don't believe it is the right time to be speaking of this, not without his kin. His biological kin."

"Well, she's not answering our calls," Bernard shrugged, "I think what we need here is to focus on what we know."

Bernard briefly looked Megawoman in the eyes before letting out another sigh. He stood up and started pacing across the room with his hands on his back.

"So, we've already established that the boy could potentially be as strong as his mother if he grows up," he muttered, "But we should also assume that there is potential in him to go insane if—"

"Sorry, but 'if'?" The Empress, who had been quiet the entire time, stood up, sudden and strong enough that the chair behind her slid all the way to the end of the hall, "You've been saying 'if' since earlier. If. If. If! What do you even mean by that?"

"I mean, if the boy grows up, he will be a problem."

"And what do you mean by that?!" The Empress grabbed the table, and a tiny explosion thundered from her palm, which completely and utterly obliterated it, flinging parts of it away everywhere throughout the hall.

And Bernard, even without his armor, did not flinch or back away from The Empress, only glancing up at her even as she towered over him. He stared her straight in the eyes for a few seconds before raising both his palms in surrender and backing away.

"I meant that we should dispose of the boy. While it's still early…

…we should put him down."