Cyrus jumps, and nearly flinches, at the mental assault, looking at the newcomer in a new light. He'd severely underestimated how powerful she was in comparison to him.

Then he was overwhelmed by the crushing depression that was coming from the teenager.

He finds himself approaching the boy, taking a knee. He doesn't want to touch him- fake as the emotions are, full as he already is, he still isn't sure he could touch him without sucking him dry.

He knew on a level it was artificial, but on a deeper level, it was real. Amplified, not afflicted.

Damn being an empath. Sometimes... he had too much empathy.

I care. I know what this feels like. I've been where you are. To be honest, I'm not better than you at all. You've at least got the guts to throw yourself into the thick of it. I... I never chose a side. I'm still scraping my way up. But Dice's way is an empty promise. You go down that road, you lose what makes you better than this place. Don't... don't do that to yourself, Bron. You have a good heart. Better than mine by miles. Money's important for taking care of the people you love, but when you focus too much on the money, you tend to forget about the people in the process. He stumbles at his own advice. Doesn't he do this to help people? To do more good than the harm he's required. Why should he let the mob continue to harm families for the wake of keeping his own safe? Sighing, he approaches the two women as they're about to set off. Guess I'll use the money to send my mother on a long cruise, yeah? But someone’s gonna have to explain this whole rooftop thing to me.