"Oh?" It's spoken distantly; Sylar touches the brim of the cooler, trailing his fingers along it in an absent gesture, and doesn't look up.

(It's not a broken part, but it is one removed from the whole. It's potential, in its own way. Promise.)

When Lucy begins to speak in kind, though, he does turn his attention back to her. Sylar listens closely, without objection.





Some time after that, the street's deserted again.