Sylar's assessing gaze sharpens. His fingers loosen. "Why me?" he asks.

Somehow it's both of you --

"Do you see some special future for me?" It verges on a mocking sing-song, but curiosity skims just beneath it; curiosity, and a fierce need. The orange and yellow splays across nearly the entire floor, impossible to avoid, and there are shadows of buildings beneath it, the New York skyline burning bright.