A.N. This is my first Heroes fic, hope you enjoy it! Nathan is a interesting character to write with, I had fun with this. Please let me know what you think, and if any improvements can be made.

My mother told me it was my destiny. Destiny, to destroy the city she wants me to represent? As far as I'm concerned, destiny is the ideal people tend to invoke when they want you to do something without asking any inconvenient questions.

She asked me if I could have faith, believe that what I was doing is right. How could murder be right, even if it's for a 'good' cause? Blind faith and shining ideals are of no help to me. Pulling the wool over my eyes and saying that I'm working for the greater good is not only naive, it's crazy.

Maybe I'm too cynical. I've always been a pragmatist. The truth of the matter is, the human race is too full of shades of gray for untempered nobility to be anything but dangerous. Maybe that makes some people dislike me, but it's the smart way to look at things. Those people usually liked Peter more than me. He was always kinder than I am.

0.7 percent. Such a small, seemingly insignificant number. Linderman told me that sacrificing this tiny number would bring the world together, unite us. How do I know he's not just playing me for a fool? It wouldn't be beyond either of them to try and convince me I'm doing it for the world, then use me for their own agendas.

When I think of those sisters, brothers, parents, and cousins, all I really see is my own brother. I see brave, caring, Peter, dead with a shard of glass protruding from his skull. I see my little brother screaming as deadly light shoots from his arms. I see the person who's always trusted me, incandescing in a moment of dazzling horror. And I am to let this happen?

I love my mother, always have, but she scares me sometimes. When Peter was dead, she seemed far less upset that she should have been. She wanted us to hide his body and go on, all for the election. I didn't care. My baby brother was dead. That was the first time I have really cried since Heidi was paralyzed.

Does that make me weak, and her strong?

Unfortunately, she knows me well enough to manipulate me. All Linderman's talk of a life of meaning came straight from her. It is an alluring thought, to i mean /i something to this world, to go down in history as a saviour, as the person who turned this world around, offered hope for the future. All I have to do is let innocent people be wiped out.

I mentioned I didn't believe in ideals? Well, maybe that wasn't completely true. I do believe in one. Duty. I have a duty to the world. Somehow, I have been given a strange power. I can fly. Laugh if you want, it is a strange kind of irony. A politician, able to fly without support. I haven't ever felt like I deserve my power. Why should someone like me posses something so amazing? I rarely allow myself to use it.

But on the rare occasion I do, something inside me changes. Just for a short while, I am free. The wind sings in my ears, the sky is flawless, and I am unfettered. My life is happy.

Then, I look at the world below, and a feeling stirs inside me. Cars, people, everything we've built look so small, and unexpectedly fragile. I am protective of the life below me, as I watch light shimmer from metal and reflect from windows. I am torn. Part of me wishes to stay in the sky, escape from my daily life, but the rest of me knows I have to go back down. I know I have to carry out my duty to the people of the world.

So what do I do now? Trust my mother and allow my brother kill helpless people, in order to protect the rest of the world? Or should I go against my mother, who has worked so hard to help me, and try and stop the explosion with no guarantee of success?

I don't know the answer, and I am afraid. I have made so many mistakes in my life, and most of them haven't turned out to be as beautiful as Claire. How will I be able to live with myself afterwards, no matter which choice I make?

If I make the wrong choice, what then?