Part V: Challenges to the death.
The elevator doors opened smoothly when he pressed the button. The elevator did not have solid walls, but rather they were mesh-like with holes so that light from the elevator shaft could shine through. He got in and pressed the up arrow. The doors closed and a lengthy ride to the upper level initiated. During the lengthy trip, Sylar was given another moment to reflect. He was not prepared for this. He never thought that he'd become a victim of this maniac. He thought Sparrow had been a snarky, yet innocent young girl who just happened to possess a lot of intelligence. Being deceived by a mere child had shattered his faith in humanity. There really wasn't anything that could bring him joy in life besides acquiring powers. Trying to satiate his hunger was the only thing he had to look forward to now.
He had come to this island with the mindset of doing something good. In exchange he was bestowed with the fate of witnessing the artificial development of his child that he had no desire to possess. He already knew that if he were to encounter this child, he'd have to kill him. Under Hohenheim's influence, the child would know nothing but murder; he would not understand what it means to love, care or feel alone. The child would never be raised by a proper father. This pained Sylar. No matter what, even if you do not love your child, it is always a part of you. The child and parent bond was extremely hard to sever. But what has to be done has to be done, and he was ready; ready to unleash his divine fury upon this cursed island.
The elevator finally stopped and the doors opened. Sylar stepped out onto the new floor. It was similar in shape to the last floor except there were many objects scattered all over. Daggers, swords, rifles, bunkers, barbed wires, forts; the scenario resembled that of a battlefield. Sylar saw someone up ahead. As he approached closer, he saw that it was a beautiful blonde girl wearing tight camouflage pants and a tank top.
"Hello, Mr. Sylar. My name is X-005; but the good doctor himself has named me Genevieve." said the beautiful blonde figure.
"I pity you that you're labeled as an experiment. You know you're going to die right?" said Sylar.
"Tee hee, we'll see about that. But I live to fight. I got nothing to lose, where as you do. I have nothing else to think about, no desire to do anything else." replied Genevieve.
"Heheh, save it. Right now, you and I are not so different. If the maniac wants a good fight, I'll show him what I can do." said Sylar.
"I see… Well then, let's begin. The doctor hasn't told me what you're capable of. Anyhow I'll see soon enough- you too shall see what I am capable of." She unfastened two grenades from her back pocket and pulled off the safety pins. "I wish you luck."
She threw the flash and smoke grenades towards Sylar's direction and they immediately exploded. A blinding flash along with smoke filled the arena. Sylar could not see. But his hearing was able to penetrate through the flash grenades' initial hearing-impairment effect. He focused. From a distance, he heard the cocking of a rifle. She was about to shoot him. Within a second, she pulled the trigger and a loud bang resonated from her rifle. To her surprise, she did not see Sylar fall to the ground. She aimed again and pulled the trigger. Again she did not see him fall to the ground. Something was amiss. She packed her rifle and retreated behind a concrete wall as the smoke slowly cleared.
Sylar stood there, with two bullets suspended between his eyes in mid air. Aaah I see how that works now. She has enhanced vision that allows her to see heat differences. Quite a useful power. The bullets fell gently to the concrete floor.
"Your owner could have at least told you that bullets would not work on me," shouted Sylar. "I've already figured out your power. While useful, it isn't anything too impressive. I'm more amazed by your natural talents, but those probably came from genetic engineering as well, not so natural after all."
Sylar looked around the battlefield. "I assure you, you won't be hidden long. I can find you easily," said Sylar. Suddenly he picked up a racing heart beat. Aaah… so they can still be intimidated. This little trick always works.
Sylar walked closer and closer to the sound of the heartbeat. As he grew closer, the heartbeat became faster and faster. Sylar finally arrived at the concrete wall.
"Found you..." smirked Sylar.
He put his hand over the wall and instantly liquefied it.
"Aaaaaggh!" screamed the women in aggression as she rose from the melted wall with dagger in hand, aiming for Sylar's throat. Sylar caught her hand with his hand and grabbed her neck with the other.
"Nice try, but looks like it's the end for you…I told you I would show no mercy. For your bravery, I'll grant you a quick death. Good bye."
The woman's neck started to freeze. She screamed in pain, but she suddenly stopped as her windpipe was frozen. Within seconds, her whole body was frozen-over, lifeless. Sylar let go of her arm that held the dagger still. Holding her frozen corpse in his right hand, he motioned his free hand to the side and her body telekinetically slammed into the wall, shattering it into many pieces of frozen flesh. Seconds later, her abdomen blew up from the internal bomb placed inside her. Genevieve was reduced to nothing.
Sylar heard the door "ding" in the distance. He was allowed to advance to the next floor. He walked on towards the elevator and entered it. The elevator lights flashed on him through the mesh grating of the walls as he ascended up.
The elevator doors opened upon reaching the next floor. Again with the circular arena. This time however, there was a huge depression at the center. The place consisted of two levels. The perimeter of the room was raised, while the center consisted of lower ground that was in the shape of a triangle. At each point of the triangle was a hole in the wall. Pillars lined the sides of the triangle. At the center of the triangle stood a bulky sized figure- a man with a shaved head. His arms were crossed. Sylar stepped down to the lower floor that led to the base of the triangle in order to confront the man.
"So I see you've managed to kill my sister," said the voice.
"Yeah, but don't worry, she died cleanly. I can't say the same for you though," said Sylar.
"Heheheh. I have many more sisters that have yet to be awakened. One death does not matter," responded the voice with no hint of remorse.
"It is expected that an artificially created being, such as yourself, has exactly that kind of mindset. You're broken..." said Sylar coolly.
"None of that matters. I was created to fight. And that's all I care about. We'll see who's truly broken after I'm through with you."
The man brought out some sort of device and pressed the button. Sand flowed through the three holes near the points of the triangle. Sylar took several steps back to reach the higher ground. The triangle rapidly filled with sand.
"There is enough sand on this island to fill this entire room. With it, I shall tear you to shreds!"
Suddenly, all the sand from the floor rose and encircled the man like a tornado. Before long, the man was shrouded with sand that formed a neat sphere around him. Sand continued to be drawn into the center from the holes, swirling about him furiously. The sphere of sand surrounding the man grew larger as time went by.
It looks like he is able to manipulate sand, thought Sylar.
"Here, sample my power!" shouted the man.
A stream of sand was shot in Sylar's direction at rapid speed. Sylar made a swift strafing step and pulled his arm back, deflecting the projectile with his mind. The jet of sand missed him and hit the wall of the circular room, denting it. After impact, the sand slowly suspended in air and returned back to the center of the room.
Sylar made a quick hand gesture with his fingers, but nothing happened. The man was shrouded in sand and could not be seen. The sand around him was moving too fast for Sylar to manipulate with telekinesis. Sylar knew that if he was not stopped soon, there'd be little area left for him to work with. He had to stop the sand flow somehow.
An arm of sand emerged from the man and swiped at a one hundred-eighty degree angle across the room. Sylar was able to block it with his mind, but the pillars that were surrounding the room were sliced in half by the powerful assault. The top halves of the pillars collapsed onto the floor. An idea sprung into Sylar's head.
"Heheheh, eventually I'll make you dance around this room. Soon enough it'll be too strong for you to block with your little trick!" shouted the man. He laughed maniacally.
Gesturing with his hand and fingers, Sylar telekinetically lifted up the broken columns and jammed them into the holes at the wall, one-by-one. As the sand flow slowly started to cease, the man's maniac laugh slowed to a halt and transformed into a burst of frustration.
"You little punk…I'll give you credit for thinking of that. But it is too late for you to penetrate through my invulnerable shield. There's nothing you can do to prevent your inevitable death," mocked the man.
Sylar approached him as the man continued his confident laughter.
"Are you sure? Because if I do this…"
Sylar gave his index and middle fingers a quick flick to the side. One of the fallen pillars from the higher ground flew to the center of the room, but not yet at its target. It was suspended in mid air, waiting to strike like a lance. Sylar continued to walk a cool and slow pace towards the raging sandstorm at the center of the room.
"Heheheh… What are you trying to do? Those pillars won't be able to penetrate my shield so easily," shouted the man. Sylar paid no attention to his words.
Sylar gestured another pillar towards the center of the room and yet again, suspended in mid air, but this time on the opposite side of the other pillar.
"…And then, this…" said Sylar in his low tone whisper.
Sylar gestured a pillar directly on top of the man. Three pillars surrounded him.
"Huh?" said the man.
Sylar's slow trek finally led him in close proximity of the violent swirling sands. After a quick smirk, Sylar stuck out his open left hand and then closed it into a tight fist, his fingers and thumb all meeting at the center of his palm. The pillars followed the same exact gesture; the two pillars on each side corresponded to his thumb and pinky; the pillar above to his middle finger. Just like his hand, they all came crashing down towards the center at the same time. The pillars, however, did not penetrate through the sand barrier.
"Hahaha, your little plan isn't working. My sand will grind up those pillars like termites," said the man.
"That may be true, but with three objects trying to impale you, you don't have enough sand to even touch me." Sylar was at the edge of the swirling sand-sphere now. "If you try to attack me now, you'll have to surrender your defense. If you do that, you'll meet an unhappy fate with those pillars that so desperately want to kill you," explained Sylar.
"Then I'll just wait till those pillars are reduced to nothing. What makes you think that buying a little more time will actually save you? It's hopeless, you are only delaying the inevitable," replied the man.
"You're only able to manipulate sand and nothing else; that much I know. I don't know the limits to what types of sand you can control, but I do know that once it's no longer sand, you can't control it," Sylar put both hands up to the moving sands and gave a murderous expression, "which is why I'll be turning it into glass."
As the three pillars began to be grinded down into almost nothing, the man remained distracted from attacking Sylar. Sylar melted the sand into an amorphous state with powerful radiation. With the other hand, he rapidly cooled the shapeless matter before it formed into a crystal lattice.
"NO! This cannot be!" screamed the man in frustration.
With the aid of the sand in motion, all of the sand was converted to tiny glass shards that fell to the floor in seconds. The man was now defenseless and powerless. With no more sand flowing from the orifices of the room, it was almost as if he was a normal, insignificant being.
The man gazed at Sylar speechless.
"This is usually the part when people start screaming," snickered Sylar. His smile became a mean scowl.
Sylar raised his hand into a closed fist, levitating all of the glass shards in front of him. He then opened his hand, sending the glass shards in all directions. As thousands of tiny shards penetrated the man's defenseless body, loud screams of agony were heard. The man fell to the ground, bleeding in every place imaginable.
"Still alive?" asked Sylar. "Well, we can fix that," once again, in that creepy whisper. Sylar motioned the last remaining pillar from the higher floor and lifted it up to the ceiling of the arena, directly above the dying man. He then made a gesture with his hand and the pillar, high above, crashed down onto the poor soul with a velocity of a meteor. The pillar impaled the man's chest, triggering the internal bomb. He exploded into a bloody mess; a mixture of blood, gravel, and smoke emerged from the explosion. After the smoke cleared, all that was left was a dilapidated pillar (still skewered into the floor) and a huge blood splatter around its radius.
The distant "ding" from the elevator ahead was heard. After brushing some of the filth off him, he walked towards the elevator doors. He pressed the button and got in. Sylar took one last glance at the mess he made as the elevator doors closed in front of him. The elevator ascended upwards to the final match. What lay ahead remains to be seen.
The doors opened upon reaching the final floor. Unlike the previous floors, this floor had no special arrangements. It was a very plain room. Two curved walls were present at both sides. Between those two curves was a young girl. As Sylar advanced towards her, he began to realize that this girl surprisingly looked a lot like Sparrow.
Despite his anger towards Sparrow, Sylar could not help but hesitate to attack. He lowered his hand and walked a little closer.
"Is this some sort of joke?" Sylar asked the girl.
"Oh… you're here," said the Sparrow-look-alike. She did not sound like Sparrow. Her voice was more gentle.
The girl walked towards Sylar's direction. As she got closer, Sylar could see that her eyes were closed.
"Don't come any closer!" shouted Sylar. He raised his guard.
To his surprise, the girl halted immediately. This startled Sylar.
"What are you doing?" asked Sylar curiously.
"Well, you see, I can't see. I'm blind. I usually have to listen to people if they tell me to stop. Is there something in front of me?" asked the girl sweetly. Her voice was very gentle. It was innocent, but Sylar refused to drop his guard.
"…No there isn't, just me. Why are you blind? Why do you look so much like his daughter? And why did he send you here to fight me?"
"I'm one of the many clones of his majesty's daughter. It's unfortunate for him that he cannot ever seem to make her right. I have a defect, my blindness. He resents my very being. He resents all of us; so far he hasn't been able to recreate his daughter without a flaw. I was sent to face you because I was a disgrace to both him and his daughter. I believe my life ends here, at your hands."
Sylar was touched and disgusted at the same time. Hohenheim had been trying to clone his daughter for god knows how long. He now knew that the maniac actually loved his daughter, but since he could not have her, he had to clone her- although every attempt had been unsuccessful. And now, his own daughter cannot accept him as her father because of what he's doing now. That sick bastard. But he knew what it felt like. Sylar had tried to impress his mother all the same. He could not win her satisfaction, and so he aimed to be special when he was given the opportunity. He killed and killed and the Hohenheim cloned and cloned; both acts considered taboo. But in the end, neither goal was achieved. Hohenheim never got his daughter back nor could he ever if Sparrow found out about the clones designed in her image. Sylar's mother was never impressed and never could be; his hands would forever be stained with her blood. In this way, there were the same. They both lost something and it was because of this evolutionary imperative. It was indeed, a horrible truth that made Sylar extremely uncomfortable.
Sylar stared at the girl with solemn eyes. His personal revelation stunned him.
"…What is your power?" asked Sylar in his whisper. The whisper did not contain any intention of murder; rather it was full of pity for himself and for her.
"I wasn't sure, or at least not until now. I think you just showed me. Not too long ago, this room felt cold and heavy, just like when I'm in the presence of his majesty. It was not comfortable at all. But now… Now it feels different. It's warm, and soothing. I like it. It's the first time I've ever felt this way... I think I can feel the hearts of others. Why is it different now Mr. Sylar? What are you thinking?"
Sylar understood now. Her power was empathy, a power that probably left you feeling cold and lonely most of the time; and the world was to blame. It truly was tragic.
"I can't tell you. I don't even want to tell myself. I know it, but I can't tell anyone." said Sylar.
"I see… it's ok, I think I know …" said the girl. There was a slight pause. "Are you ready to move on Mr. Sylar? I am ready. But it's ok. I'm glad that I was able to encounter you. I am ready to leave this world after feeling this new warmth that resonates from your soul."
Sylar remained speechless. He thought that "warmth" was just a bit of an exaggeration. He may be thinking differently now, but it didn't change who he was. He'd always be a murderer and there was still no desire to repent them. But perhaps it was only because he was afraid to show his soft side. Anyhow, he knew what he had to do if he wanted to move on.
"Ok…" said Sylar as he approached her. He wanted her to feel as little pain as possible. He went behind her and held her in place with his hands.
"This will probably hurt," said the girl.
"Don't worry, I can fix that…"
Sylar leaned her head forward and with a little help from telekinesis, made a swift blow to her neck, severing the spinal cord. She fell back on her back. As he promised, she felt no pain. It was a quick and clean death. He looked at her corpse and found that she still smiled. She had smiled through her death. It was uncanny, but it also provided relief.
As expected, she did not blow up. Hohenheim had not implemented a bomb inside her. He could not ruin the image that was his daughter. After a few seconds, the distant "ding" of the elevator was heard. He walked to the elevator and got in, taking a final glimpse of the innocent girl. He was finally done. He couldn't wait to kill the sick bastard.