Chapter 18: Shame

"That's amazing." Peter's eyes shone with admiration.

"Can I try it?" He asked.

"Sure. Let's take it outside first though." I said, leading the drone downstairs, where everyone's eyes fell on it.

"Ooh, what's that?!" Nathan's kids chirped excitedly.

"It's a laser cannon drone. I call it the Sylar Slayer! We're testing it outside. Wanna watch?!" I asked, and the kids nodded like a machinegun.

"No." Their mother shot down the proposal.

"You have school. Get ready. We're leaving."

"But moooom~" the kids protested, only to be shut up with a stern glare.

They sulked, finishing their breakfast before leaving with their mother.

Once they were gone, Nathan gestured me to have a seat.

"And put down that drone." He said, "I want to talk about something."

"Sure. Shoot." I said, depowering the drone.

"The bomb." He started, "Lindermann sounds very sure it will happen. And I'm sending them" he said, looking at his wife and kids, waiting for their car outside, "out of the city today, just for good measure. But I want you two, to make absolutely sure it doesn't happen. No matter if I win or lose tomorrow, I don't want the city and it's people to suffer."

"That's....very noble of you Nathan. I didn't expect that. You know how politicians are...." I joked, but his eyes did not waver.

"This drone of yours. It will kill that man, right? Are you sure about it?" He asked.

"Absolutely." I replied, looking him in the eyes.

"Good. Have some breakfast before you get back to work." He said, getting up, tightening his tie, as he walked out.

With him gone, I scanned the room and saw a newly awakened face.

"Hello Molly." I greeted, "How are you feeling now?"

Molly didn't answer though, shying away behind Mohinder's back.

"Don't worry. She's coming along well. Just shy around strangers." He assured.

"That's understandable. After what Sylar did to her family.....I would never trust a stranger again."

The atmosphere dampened a bit with that statement, as everyone shot sympathetic glances towards the little girl.

"He won't do that to anyone, ever again. We'll make sure of that." Peter said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, when Micah, no longer able to hold his curiousity, asked.

"Can I try the drone?"

"Of course." I said, removing the glove, but he just shook his head.

"I can do it myself." He said, pointing at the drone, causing it to come alive.

It flew through the air, twisting around chairs and cupboards, Micah maneuvering it as if it was part of his body.

"Man, technopathy is such a broken power." I remarked, jokingly, "You can almost rule the world with this stuff."

Then, suddenly, a red glow reflected in my eyes, and Micah engaged the laser cannon.

"Micah!" I shouted, breaking his concentration, as he lost control of the drone, and it fell helplessly on the sofa.

"Don't use weapons inside the house. You could have set it on fire!" I scolded.

"Sorry." Micah apologized immediately, retrieving the drone for me.

"It's okay. Let's go and test it outside later, shall we?" I said, as I sat back down for breakfast, "We have a lot to do today."

"Oh and also..." I pulled out my revamped forcefield generator, handing it Peter.

"Peter, you have the ability to produce nuclear power, now don't you?

Can you replicate the output of a nuclear power plant? Make electronics spark and such?"

"I don't know, but I can try." He said, " Why?"

"I need my battery charged for the drone." I opened the forcefield generator.

"Just focus on the crystal and pump in as much nuclear power you can, till it turns blue about there."  I explained, "Meanwhile, I'll take Micah and get soem work done." I said, gesturing Micah to follow.

Once outside, I put on the control glove and powered the drone on, while Micah placed a line of beer bottles.

Pressing the bottons on the touchpad, I pointed at the bottles, making a finger gun.

I looked at the rest of them looking on from the sides as a smug smile spread on my face.

"Bang!" I said, and the drone shot a bolt at the rightmost beer bottle, superheating it to a molten mess of glass, splattered all over the fence, setting it on fire.

"Water! Get some water!" I cried, when Angela just walked over, putting it out

"That's enough practice. Now put that down before I put you down. Conserve your ammo for the actual fight." She said, coldly.

As if you could even bend a hair on my head!

But I wasn't willing to fight her on it.

I nodded, shelving the drone for now before I returned to dining room dressed for the job.

"Micah." I called him close, sitting him  "As you know I'm from the future. I came back in time to stop something very bad from happening.

But there's one secret I haven't told anyone, Micah. You took good care if my gun yesterday. So I'll tell you about it. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Can I trust you with that?" I asked, putting an arm around his shoulder.

Micah nodded.

"Yes! I won't tell anyone, Mr. Hero!"

"Good. See, when I came here, my time machine... it broke. I ... can't go back home." I lied, "So I need your help, Micah. I need you to make an American ID for me. Go into the government systems and make it look like I was always a citizen here. Can you help me, Micah?"

"Sure." He said, touching the Petrelli telephone, connecting with it to the largely cable based broadband networks that dominated the 2000s, "What ID do you want?"

I smiled.

"How about we start with a birth certificate? Date it to 1987..."

The rest of the day and much of the next, was spent creating a new identity for me, running to and from government offices gathering paperwork and fine tuning the equipment for the final confrontation.

I finished the repairs on my new forcefield generator, the Aegis Mk2, preprogrammed the desired targeting subroutines into it's code, and began plotting on my plans for my iron man suit.

Finally, the day, or rather the night arrived.

Peter stood in Kirby plaza, Claire by his side, clutching her dad's M1911, as they paced around the fountain nervously, waiting for him to show up. Micah and Mohinder on the other hand were left home.

They argued of course, to be brought along, but after a long debate, I was able to convince them to stay.

They would be a liability, and Molly still needed supervision.

But most importantly, because today, the kid gloves come off. Today, only I was going to leave this plaza alive.

Well me, and Hiro. But he wouldn't know. He would be too busy changing the past after all.

Perched on a rooftop, not far from the plaza I watched and waited.

8.59 pm.

My phone showed.

Anytime now.

I picked up my binoculars, and looked down at the plaza.

Peter was looking back up at me. And ...is that....is he worried?

He began to wave frantically at me, pointing at me...no, behind me!

I turned around, as my eyes widened in horror, and I scampered to the edge of the building in fear.

"Wha- how?" I asked, instinctively.

"I could hear your heartbeat a mile away. It's impatient tunes...they were annoying." Sylar replied, laying out a palm before me.

Suddenly, I accelerated to breakneck speeds, crashing into the fountain, shattering it, leaving a crater in it's wake, and breaking every bone in my body, pulverizing my insides, the forcefield bubble around me turning to a blood red glob.

Claire screamed like banshee, shaking, falling to her knees at the gruesome spectacle before her, tears and vomit involuntarily flowing from her.

It was her first time facing an actual battle after all, and she was but a child still.

Sylar, meanwhile descended from the sky, like a spiteful god, looking upon my remains with satisfaction, as he gave the forcefield a punch.

It shook, crackling, beneath the pressure.

"Tough." He said, out loud, "I'll have to learn how this device works later."

He went to take another jab at it, bringing his fist back, when Peter caught it.

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"There won't be a later for you, Sylar." He said, landing a punch on him, only for Sylar to barely flinch, laughing instead.

Sylar turned to him, a mocking smile on his lips, "Wait your turn, Peter. Don't spoil my meal, with your main course."

He flicked his wrist, sending Peter flying into a wall, as he got back to punching the bubble, which was now slowly beginning to crack.

On the floor, Claire looked at Peter laying by the wall, slowly healing and resolved herself.

Just then a ripple formed in the plaza as Hiro materialized before Sylar.

"SYLAR!" Hiro shouted, twirling his katana, rushing him, "Shin-ei!"

"No thank you!" Sylar replied, ctaching Hiro in his telekinesis and threw him at the opposite building.

Seeing a crash coming, Hiro teleported away, disappearing from the plaza, just as in the series.

Seeing Hiro get thrown away, Claire, made her decision.

She would die fighting, on her feet, not laying on the floor, like a damsel in distress!

She pulled herself up, leveling the gun at Sylar, before letting loose, emptying her magazine in his direction.

In a rush, he raised a hand, trying to stop the bullets, but missed one, grazing past his forehead, tearing a welt straight across it, blood dripping into his now rage filled eyes.

"I was going to leave you until later, give you a moment to come to terms with your fate. But this.....no more. I don't mind eating dessert as appetizers from time to time." He said, stalking towards her, abandoning the forcefield.

Claire stepped back in fear, as Sylar raised hand, freezing her in place, lifted off the ground.

He brought his other hand close, pushing out two fingers like a scalpel, and in a classic Sylar move, began to telekinetically cutting through her skull.

"Ryaaaaaigh!" She screamed in pain, struggling in vain.

"No!" Peter cried, stumbling to his feet, as he switched powers, flying at Sylar, glowing in nuclear flame.

Taking Sylar by surprise at his speed, he dragged him up into the sky, his glow exploding further amd further, priming to blow.

But Sylar was not a simple opponent and after his defeat at my hands, ha d only grown in his control of telekinetics.

He slipped a hand free from Peter's grasp, raising it high in a knife hand, and gave Peter's shoulder a mutilating chop, severing limb and bone, nearly splitting him in two, as they fell from the sky.

Peter splattered onto the other end of the plaza, turning into a grim piece of modern art, while Sylar fell to the ground with nothing but a sprain in his ankle.

He turned to look at Peter, then at his arms, scalded with nuclear heat, nearly falling off the bone, and realized how dire his situation was.

Without a second thought, he ran straight for Claire. He needed her power now, more than ever, if he was to survive.

"He fell to his knees beside her, and focused back on the already healing scars of his surgery, as he began anew, this time, ripping her head right off first, before he began to violently disassemble her skull, ripping flesh straight off of it till nothing but her brain remained, floating mid air, like a ghost.

Picking up a shard of cement from the destroyed fountain, he began to telekinetically poke around her head, learning, understanding her power, it's ins and outs.

Slowly, the flesh on his arms began to reknit itself, the burns falling away, giving way for newer, softer skin beneath.

His face regained it's colour, and finally, with a twist, his ankle set itself in place.

Sylar stood back, cracking his neck, stretching his arms.

"Finally! At long last, immortality!" He gloated, clenching his fists, as he looked to the sky.

"I wouldn't be so quick to celebrate, Sylar. Haven't you heard? You shouldn't count your chickens before the eggs hatch!" A voice came from behind him.

Sylar turned in shock, seeing me stand back up, alive and healed.

"This is not possible!" He exclaimed, stepping back, as he tried to raise a hand against me.

"With science, everything is possible!" I smiled, raising a finger gun at him.

"Bang!" I said, as he looked arpund.

"Wha-"

A laser burst through his head, charring it into melt, cauterizing any open wounds, removing any chance for regeneration.

I walked up to the corpse, and blasted it several times more till not even ash remained of him.

Then, I made my way to the edge of the plaza, where Peter had fallen.

He was stuck in a bush, slowly regenerating from his wounds, as he looked at me just as surprised as Sylar.

"How?" He asked, "I-i thought...."

"Claire's blood." I explained, kneeling beside him, picking him up, "The day before yesterday, when you left the drip in my room, I secreted away a syringe of Claire's blood.

Before coming here today, I used it, injecting it into my veins, while I was waiting up there for half an hour. Thankfully, my forcefield didn't allow any debris to lodged on my head, or else it might not have worked. But I'm glad my gamble paid off."

"So am I." Peter replied, looking at the ash that was Sylar.

"Is he gone?" He asked.

"For good. But just to be sure, why don't you ask him?" I suggested.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, as realisation dawned on him, like the satisfied smile on my face.

"Goodbye, Peter." I said, pulling a finger gun on him, turning him to dust under laser fire.

Rolling off the bush, I stood up, and patted my clothes clean of the leaves, and made my way back to Claire, who lay there on the plaza floor, headless.

I raised my fingers at her, pressing the laser engagement, when suddenly a voice rang out from the side.

"What are you doing? Why...why are you doing this? They were your friends! Comrades!" Mohinder chastised, walking out from behind a pillar.

Good question.

Why am I killing them all?

The answer. For safety.

I have to be here for another four months at the very least before I can manufacture the superpower serum.

In those four months, anything can happen. The company leadership was going to change, and no doubt hunt me down.

Arthur Petrelli was goign to wake up from his coma and come looking for the superpower formula I had a part of.

The police would be after me if they figured out that I had any connection to this.

Any of thaoe scenarios cpuld reault in me losing the portal gun, and my one chance at eternity.

No. I will take no chances.

It would have been different if Peter wasn't a complete retard and bothered to fight back instead of letting his father steal his powers.

It would have been a different matter if Mohinder wasn't a two faced hypocrite who would violate his ethical integrity to get in the good graces of his long dead father.

It would have been a different matter if Hiro was even the slightest bit more mature and reasonable about...well, anything, instead of the destiny and heroism obsessed brain dead, impulsive otaku that he was.

But things don't always go the way you want.

And as a wise man once said, 'If you don't like how the table is setup, overturn the table.'

I cannot rely on others doing the right thing, because I know from the show, that for all their grandstanding and heroic intentions, none of the characters in this tale can be trusted to even wipe their own ass.

And I am not a man that takes chances.

I have to take things into my own hands.

"What are you doing here Mohinder?" I asked in a cold tone, ignoring his questions.

"You ... Monster! You're the same as Sylar!"

"What are you doing here, Mohinder?" I repeated, firmer this time.

"And where are Molly and Micah?"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you, right here, right now?" Mohinder shouted, tears flowing from his eyes.

"Because that would be stupid. Your bullets won't hit me. I have a forcefield protecting me. And when you attack me, you will sign your own death warrant."

"So you'll kill me....just like you killed Peter? Like you planned to kill Claire?" He cried, circling me.

"Listen. It looks you're trying to make an appeal to any sense of consistency or morality I might have lingering within, but let me break those delusions of yours." I said, pointing at him.

"Bang!"

In an instant, Mohinder was sheared in half, waist down, as he fell to the floor.

"I am not a hero, Mohinder. I never was." I said, walking up to him, "I thrive on chaos. I thirst for power. And no morality or emotion will stop me from getting what I want. You of all people should have known that obsession, shouldn't you?"

He gurgled a curse at me, blood choking him from within.

"Too bad you had to come here." I added, "We could have worked together, become friends even."

I shot him once more with the finger gun, watching as the light faded from his eyes, before extracting a vial of his blood from him.

"Shame."

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