CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - RILEY (PART TWO)

Riley’s hand trembled over the activation console as Superman took another step closer. She hated how steady he always looked, like no threat in the world—not even her bombs—could break his composure. It threatened to undo the fragile mask she wore, her defiance faltering, though only for a moment.

“You’re right,” he said finally, oddly subdued. “I can’t be everywhere at once.”

Bonesaw blinked, caught off guard by the admission.

“But I can stop you,” he continued, his tone low.

Superman took a single step forward, his movements deliberate, measured. Her pulse quickened in response, and upon realising this, she snarled, her fingers darting to press the button.

Superman was faster.

It wasn’t speed she could process—it was a blur, a rush of wind, and suddenly the wall she perched on crumbled beneath her in an instant, shattered by a sudden shockwave of force as Superman launched himself forward.

Bonesaw yelped, tumbling through the air, her scalpel slipping from her grasp and clattering to the ground. But before she could hit the rubble hard, his hand closed over her wrist, immobilizing it with a grip that was firm but not cruel. The console buzzed faintly beneath his touch, and her eyes widened as she realized he had her trapped.

“No,” he said, his voice almost cold. His cape billowed behind him, and for the first time, Bonesaw felt small—not just in stature, but in purpose, in everything.

Her mind raced, calculating, analyzing, searching for any advantage. Her hand slipped to her side, where she kept another hidden scalpel coated in one of her deadliest toxins. If she couldn’t win this game, maybe she could take a piece of him with her.

“I wouldn’t,” Superman said, his eyes narrowing. His vision flicked to the scalpel before she even drew it. “You won’t get another chance.”

Her fingers froze, hovering over the weapon, her chest heaving. How? How could anyone be this unstoppable? This invincible? Even Jack had never made her feel so utterly powerless.

“Riley,” Superman continued, his tone softening, though his gaze didn’t waver. “It’s over. Don’t make it worse.”

She bared her teeth in a mockery of a smile, refusing to let him see the fear worming its way through her. She couldn’t lose. Not like this. “You think you’ve won?” she hissed. “You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“I know exactly what you’re capable of,” he said. “That’s why I can’t let you keep doing this.”

Bonesaw opened her mouth to retort, but the air shifted, and suddenly Jack was there, his blade gleaming as he lunged at Superman’s unprotected back.

“Jack!” she screamed, a mixture of hope and panic surging through her.

But Superman moved with inhuman speed, his other hand shooting out to catch Jack’s wrist mid-swing with a force that made Bonesaw wince. A flick of his arm and Jack was disarmed, sending the blade spinning into the rubble.

Jack didn’t flinch. He smiled. “Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “It seems you’re harder to cut than most.”

Superman’s eyes hardened. “You’re done, Jack.”

Jack’s smile didn’t dim, even as Superman twisted his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife. “Am I?” he asked, his tone teasing. “You can stop me, but can you stop her?”

Bonesaw’s heart leaped into her throat as Jack’s eyes flicked toward her. The unspoken command was clear. Even cornered, even defeated, Jack was putting his faith in her to finish what they started.

Desperation clawed at her insides as she twisted in his grip, her hands scrambling for the console, her fingers shaking as they closed around it. If she could just press the button—

“Don’t make me do this, Riley,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers.

“Stop calling me that!” she screamed. “You don’t get to call me that!”

His expression softened again, and for a moment, she saw something in his eyes that she didn’t understand. Pity? Compassion? It only made her angrier.

“Let me go!” she shouted again, thrashing against him. “You don’t understand! I have to do this!”

“No,” he said simply.

In one fluid motion, he raised her wrist to his eye level and focused his gaze. Heat vision flared, precise and controlled, slicing through the console embedded in her sleeve. Sparks flew, and the device went dark, its hum silenced.

Bonesaw froze, staring in horror at the ruined console. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “No, no, no!”

Jack’s voice broke the tense silence. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” he drawled, his tone laced with false bravado. “But you’re still holding her, Superman. What now? You can’t fix her. You can’t fix us.”

Superman ignored him, his attention focused entirely on Bonesaw. Her struggles had ceased, and she stood trembling in his grasp.

“It’s over,” he repeated softly, his voice carrying a finality that made her chest tighten.

No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was Bonesaw, the prodigy, the genius, the artist of death. She wasn’t supposed to lose.

Riley shook her head, her expression a mixture of fury and despair. “You don’t get it,” she hissed. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“You can still choose,” Superman said. “You don’t have to keep doing this, Riley. You can stop. Right here, right now.”

Jack chuckled, the sound brittle and cold. “You’re wasting your breath, Superman. She’s one of us. She’ll never change.”

Riley’s gaze darted between Jack and Superman, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions. She felt Jack’s presence behind her like a shadow, a constant reminder of everything she’d done, everything she’d become. But Superman’s words, his unyielding belief in her, cut through the noise like a blade.

“I…” Her voice faltered.

Jack spoke again, his tone sharp now. “Don’t listen to him, Bonesaw. He’s just trying to manipulate you. You know where you belong.”

Riley looked at Superman, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face for answers she didn’t know how to find.

Superman released her wrist, his hand falling to his side. He didn’t move to stop her as she stumbled back a step, her legs unsteady beneath her.

The weight of the moment crushed her. The choice loomed before her, impossible and unforgiving.

And for the first time since the day she triggered, she didn’t know what to do.

A red blur streaked through the air, and suddenly the console was gone, crushed into dust in Superman’s outstretched hand.

Bonesaw stared in disbelief, her mind reeling. “It’s over,” Superman repeated,

She turned to Jack again, her mentor, her leader, her everything. His smile was still there, but there was something else in his eyes now—something she’d never seen before. Resignation.

“Just run, Bonesaw,” Jack said softly.

Her breath hitched. Run? Without him? Without the Nine?

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “We can still—”

“Run!” Jack barked, his voice cracking like a whip.

Her legs moved before her mind could catch up. She darted into the ruins, her chest heaving, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare to, because she knew what she’d see: Jack Slash, defeated against the unstoppable force that was Superman.

In a series of firsts, Riley Grace Davis was not running toward chaos, but away from it. Away from the one family she treasured. Away from Jack.

Superman’s voice echoed behind her, loud and clear. “You can’t outrun what you’ve done, Riley.”

But she kept running because she wasn’t sure she wanted to face the consequences.