Cautiously, he pushes himself to his knees, squinting against the blinding rush of air.
There's a gaping hole in the Observation Window. It's half plugged by debris, broken chairs and tables and bottles.
(And at least two bodies.)
The lights slam back on and color everything a bright, washed-out green before dimming again. Sylar trails his fingertips over the floor, brushing aside a few bits of glass.
"It shouldn't have been able to do that." Almost desperate. "I know."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-02-08 05:35 am (UTC)There's a gaping hole in the Observation Window. It's half plugged by debris, broken chairs and tables and bottles.
(And at least two bodies.)
The lights slam back on and color everything a bright, washed-out green before dimming again. Sylar trails his fingertips over the floor, brushing aside a few bits of glass.
"It shouldn't have been able to do that." Almost desperate. "I know."
He doesn't.