Hearing his name, Sylar makes an indistinct noise in the back of his throat, eyelids fluttering as he tries to turn his head to locate the sound. Moving seems much more difficult than before, and Kim's voice is echoing as if being shouted down a long tunnel.

His breathing quickens as his eyes blink open for a second -- unfocused, confused -- and slip closed again.

I can hear you just fine, he tries to mutter. It's doubtful if any of this makes it through.