I have a plot for this story and all, but I guess I'm posting this chapter to see the reaction. If you like it please review, even if you don't like it please review and tell me why. I don't want to write the fanfic unless people like it...

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the works I reference in this fanfic.

A candle guttered silently, its last few flickers choking into nothing. The steady ticking of the wooden clock that hung from the wall seemed magnified a hundred times. It was the only sound that penetrated the thick blanket-like silence.

Tick…

Tock…

Tick…

Tock-

And then there was nothing. The clock had come to a complete halt, its face frozen and unmoving. All was still for a single, surreal moment until suddenly, a hazy ripple appeared in the air just beside the small coffee table that the dead candle sat upon. The air shivered and distorted violently, colors appearing and mingling together. Then, abruptly, a solid dark shape emerged, ungracefully from the wavering haze of air. As soon as the figure was completely through the shifting unsteady fog, the mist evaporated, leaving the figure alone in this new setting. Instantly it staggered towards the candle's table, seeking for something to support itself as it slowly began sinking towards the floor. Each step was more unsure than the last. The figure appeared weak and slumped over and a rasping sound escaped from its lips. As its shaky fingers clutched at the table the candle was knocked over and it fell to the floor, it's silver holder clanking loudly into what had been perfect silence. As if waiting for that cue, another shape appeared to come out of thin air, this time without the rippling haze and blurry fog. This newest figure stood upright and confident, ancient katana held unsheathed in a hand that definitely knew how to use the weapon. His eyes were cold as they swept quickly throughout the room. They came to rest on the withering figure. A dark laugh colored a masculine voice. The Future Hiro let the corner of his mouth turn up in a grin.

"And you'd just been going on about how easy I had it with my power." Future Hiros voice was lighter now, but still with an uncertain hint of danger laced in it.

"It's like someone tried to effing squeeze my lungs into nothin'." The shaking figure of the man who'd arrived first attempted to straighten up. He instantly doubled over and wheezed harshly.

"Maybe next time you'll think before you scorn my abilities." Future Hiro replied thoughtfully, watching as the moonlight that filtered through the window played on the blade of his katana. At that second a small cracking sound was heard in the room. His eyes shot instantly back to the other man's. Someone was approaching. F.Hiro brought his sword up into position with a single, swift motion, his dark eyes locking onto the direction of the noise. By this time the other man had recovered enough to stand fully up. He had an impressive frame at an even six feet, and he was reasonably buff with an even amount of muscles. He did have a lanky look about him though. His blond hair was messily spiked in a way that gave the hint that it had not been done on purpose. His blue-grey eyes had followed F.Hiro's towards the source of the sound.

F.Hiro kept his blade raised, ready to bring it upon whatever person would exit the hallway to see them there. He stopped dead in his movements when he saw who emerged from around the corner.

"She's not here. There's no one here now. They haven't been gone more than an hour though by the looks of it. " Nikki's face, or perhaps Jessica's, twisted into a mask of criticism when she noted the raised Katana. "Honestly Hiro, I don't see how you plan to make friends by acting this way." Her eyes turned to focus on the third person in the room. "And you Kape, what are you even doing here in the first place?"

Kape's voice flared up as the blood rushed to his face. "This is my deal too! We came here to find out what the hell's up with this bit-." The scowl on Nikki/Jessica's face made his voice falter to a stop. He sighed exaggeratedly before changing topics. He pretended to examine his fingernails, revealing that he was missing his right little finger. "We might as well look around, there has to be something here!"

Nikki/Jessica's face was harsh as her eyes moved back to F.Hiro's. "There is one thing you should see…" Easily she turned on her heel and moved back towards the hall she's entered from, her long blond hair flipping out behind her.

Three Months Earlier

Mohinder took his time navigating through the wreckage of the destroyed house. From what he could tell, it had never been a very nice house to begin with. It was situated in a rundown neighborhood on the edge of L.A. He had instantly felt better about having Parkman accompany him as he felt the sharp eyes of grungy men lurking menacingly in the shadows on his back. Mohinder had hardly given his safety a thought however. Even when the taxi they'd taken here sped off like a bat out of hell his thoughts had been on the house torn to shreds before him. He could hear Parkmen's steps behind him and he turned his head to speak to him.

"See the frame here? There's not a trace of charring…" He bent down towards the piece of the house's frame, eyes tracing the texture of the wood. "Whatever caused this, it wasn't a fire." Mohinder took a few more steps farther into the house. From somewhere behind him he could hear Parkmen warning someone to keep moving and that there was nothing interesting going on here. Mohinder's hand reached down towards the ground to pick something up. He turned towards Parkmen, his eyes examining the off-white object in his hand.

"What is it?" Parkmen asked impatiently after a moment of silence. He really didn't need to ask however, seeing as he could pull the answer out of Mohinder's mind anyway. He guessed it was just a courtesy thing. He didn't like standing here in this neighborhood. His hand was glued to his holster, fingers clasped around his gun reassuringly.

"It's a candlestick." Before Parkmen could look into his mind for what was so fascinating about the candle, Mohinder answered the question. "Look how it's cut cleanly in two, as if by a blade or something." Parkmen's eyes wandered away from Mohinder and the candle to gaze around the house. He felt a freezing chill run up his spine. An old model of a microwave, sliced down the middle. The kitchen table, shredded into shavings. He saw something glinting on the floor, something slightly reflective. Parkmen moved towards it suspiciously. It wasn't until he bent down to look at it that he realized it was a photograph. Gently he picked it up, but it was relatively undamaged. Before he had a second to scrutinize the subject of the photo, a gut-wrenching scream sounded from out in the street. Parkmen stuffed the picture into a pocket and whirled around, gun drawn and ready in his hand. Mohinder had frozen, his hand placed on a broken clock he'd been observing. The two of them rushed through what had once been the door of the house out into the street. Mohinder's eyes searched frantically for the source of the scream, Parkmen quickly swung the barrel of his gun around, looking for a threat. Instantly his mind was pummeled with the echoing screams of others nearby who had already seen what had happened. Though both men had hardened stomachs, being a scientist and a police officer, neither could help the feeling of nausea that engulfed them at the scene in the street.

"My dear God." Mohinder whispered raggedly.