The eruption of a rumbling, slamming thunderous sounds propelled Sylar awake. He threw his body forward with a start. He gasped for air, as if he hadn't used his lungs in years. His eyes blurred and he found difficulty to focus. His arm stretched outwards, feeling for anything around him. His arm slammed into a concrete wall, he retracted it startled by the coldness of the wall.
"I thought you'd never lie to me, Sylar."
Claire's words were ringing in his head. The pounding in his head made it hard for him to focus, he stumbled while he pulled himself off a steel table. His legs collapsed underneath him, but he felt his eyes regaining their proper sight. His regenerative power was taking its time fixing his eye sight and the rest of his body that seemed to be screaming. He didn't understand why and how he was in this place.
Another rumble sounded within the concrete walls of what appeared to be a cell. It reminded him of the Level 5 cell that Angela use to love to put him in. He gritted his teeth, looking the cell up and down. His memory was still foggy of how he got to the prison still unclear. He could only remember going to bed after talking to Claire.
"I thought you'd never lie to me, Sylar."
The words echoed again, and Sylar had to shake his mind of her words. Why was that all he could recall? Her face flashed in his mind.
Her face determined, cocky as always.
He stood up quickly, looking over the cell with absorbing every detail. The cell was certainly built with him in mind.
He gripped the gray sweat pants and the black t-shirt he wore. He tried to absorb the memory of the object, but somehow his ability gave him flashes of an ordeal shoving the clothes on him. Nothing more was revealed to him.
An IV bag hung above the steel table, but the iv was torn out of Sylar's newly, yet slowly healed arm. A red spot of where it was shinning.
He walked up closer to the IV bag, looking it over with more precision.
The bag indicated a sedation, but Sylar also observed the sedation was hooked up to an electrical outlet. He looked out of the observation glass, down a long hallway. Emergency lights were on. A thunderous rumbling rolled over the location again.
Whoever was sedating him had been using a combination of electricity and chemicals.
It was smart. His body would never be able to grow a resistance if it constantly had to heal itself from electrical inputs.
He turned back to the IV bag, focused on it, willing it to move. He wanted to tear it apart with his mind.
The bag merely stirred.
He grunted, running his hands through his hair. He thankfully noted that whoever was keeping him had kept him well-groomed, maybe even had washed his hair the night before.
Another set of thunder rolled through the complex.
Shadows began to flood the hallways, voices yelling. Sylar looked for a place to gain a vantage point in the Cell, but found there to be none.
He stayed perfectly still in the middle of the room, facing the Observation Glass.
The voices grew louder, Sylar's smirk grew with it.
Finally, the footsteps that had been approaching slowed, before Sylar stood the super large goon from Samuel's gang. The one who had attempted to take Claire and those brats the first time around. Sylar was use to cleaning up his messes. The goon seemed to remember Sylar's ridicule in that moment as well. His tattooed arms showing and flexed in an angry fashion. The large goon stood staring at him for a moment, almost shocked to see him awake as twin goons, with the ability for Ice and Fire, followed behind him, both of them holding up an unconscious Peter. Sylar could spot that hair from anywhere.
They all stared at Sylar, who seemed a bit annoyed at their delay of action.
"Well? Let me Out."
His voice echoed in the Cell. Like he hadn't heard his own voice in weeks.
The large good took one huge swing of his fist, crashing it into the window, shattering it to pieces.
Sylar was swift to exit the Cell, ignoring the glass that cut his face.
The twins led the way out of the complex, the large goon now having Peter over his shoulder. The corridors were winding and complicated. The emergency lights also didn't light as strongly as normal lights would have.
They finally reached a elevator, hidden behind two pillars, and entered it. One of the twins entered a code quickly, and the elevator seemed to move at super speed.
Sylar deduced that they had been at least a ten floors underneath the ground.
The advanced technology should have meant advanced security, but Sylar decided to ask questions later. He was usually able to figure out things on his own anyways.
As the left the elevator, they walked into a sea of gunfire. It was an office, with military soldiers firing at people dressed like Sylar.
Fireballs, spikes, force fields were being thrown back at the soldiers.
Pure chaos was before them. Death. Destruction.
Sylar loved it.
He noted that he knew most of the Specials fighting. They were apart of Samuel's army. All of them of the dark nature.
He threw his hand out towards a soldier gaining an advantage on a Special.
When the waves of electricity left Sylar's fingertips, he felt his body reawaken.
The soldier was fried to a crisp quickly.
Sylar flung two other soldiers into a wall, snapping their necks with his power.
He flexed his fingers once more, snapping another soldier's neck.
One of the twins pullled him away from the fighting, down a side corridor. There was an open window.
Sylar pulled on him.
"I can take them, this is a battle easily won."
The Special looked at him with large eyes, obvious scared to speak against him.
"There is an army on its way here, more powerful than all of us combined. We leave now, or you'll be back in that cell for another few years."
The Special tried to turn away, but Sylar grabbed his arm.
"What did you say?"
"There is an army-"
"Years?"
"You've been here for 14 years..."
A thunderous rumble shook the building.
"We have to leave now."
Sylar stood dumbstruck for a moment, but quickly chased after the Special into the storm. He had a lot more questions now.
Claire stood very still looking out the window at the rain. She had an uneasy feeling in her stomach, a feeling she hadn't had in years.
She held herself, arms crossed across her chest.
The storm outside was one of the strongest D.C. had seen in years. The front lawn was soaked, large puddles forming in spots.
She sighed to herself, thinking of ways to shake her uneasy feeling. Keeping her mind to not wander to old memories was diffcult on quiet days.
She heard a door open behind her. She didn't turn to see who it was, she already knew somehow.
"Madam-"
"Micah, Call me Claire. You know that."
There was a pause and a clearing of a throat. His tone was nervous.
"Claire, Seciton 5 lost power."
She closed her eyes, the weight of the world truly baring down on her today.
Claire turned back to Micah, who had aged so well in 14 years. He was a handsome man, two kids at home. Molly and him had created a beautiful home together. That thought made her smile inside.
She crossed to her large desk, standing behind her chair.
"Back up generators?"
"They were blown out."
"How many escaped?"
"10, maybe 9. They haven't finished containing the area."
"Did they escape? Did He escape?"
Micah looked at Claire grimmly.
"That seems to be the main objective of the group that attacked."
"They waited for the perfect time to strike."
Claire looked out at the raging storm.
"Are the Generals in the War Room? Containing this?"
"Yes, They wanted to inform you of the situation once they obtained enough information."
"Yes, Thank You."
Claire stared out at the storm, unmoving.
Micah shifted unsure infront of her desk.
"Claire? What should We do? What is the first course of action on this. We should be proactive."
Claire turned back to Micah. Her face was unchanged, neither nervous or scared. Emotionless.
"We wait. He won't waste any time coming for me."
Micah shifted.
"You are going to let him, be out there? Freely?"
"It's a new world out there, one he doesn't know."
"What about Peter?"
"He'll be right with him."
"I'll set up extra security, put more agents-"
"No, Lighten it actually. We don't need any blood on our hands if We can help it."
Claire turned back to look at the storm.
"Let them come. I'm ready."
Micah nodded his head and walked quietly out of the Oval Office.
Claire continued to look out of the window of the White House onto the front lawn. The storm really did make the Capital look beautful with the flashes of lighting.
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