Micah Sanders

Hart Center, New York

He sat at the small table in the interrogation room, waiting to see what it was they needed to talk to him about. It could be a range of anything, although he suspected it was about his dad. DL had disappeared two days ago. Yesterday, Claire was attacked by a strange powered man. Coincidence? He asked himself. I think not.

Outside the small room, he watched Agent Parkman sip his coffee and talk with a tall black man, another agent Micah didn't recognize. Time ticked slowly by, and Micah started noticing just how bad the room smelled of sweat and fear. Did he do something wrong? Was he a suspect in his father's disappearance?

The door creaked open and an elderly looking man in a white coat entered. "Hello, Micah. I'm Doctor Crane," he said. Micah nodded. "If you would come with me, will get this whole thing put behind us."

Micah did as he was asked, following the doctor down the hall past a smiling Matt. As they passed the agents, the black man gave Micah two thumbs up.

The doctor led him to another room, this one much larger than the one they put him in for holding. Then, Dr. Crane exited a door in the back. There was a small commotion, then the door opened again. The person who came out was the last person Micah expected.

"Mom!" he shouted, running into the open arms of Nikki. She snatched her son in mid-jump and held him close. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"Me, too, Micah," she said, clutching the boy like he was the only thing holding her to the ground. She sniffled. "They told me about Dad. They're going to find him. I know it, Micah. I just know it."

"What about Jessica?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded.

"She's gone," Nikki said. "Gone for good."

Matt Parkman

Hart Center, New York

"A little dorky, Ridge," Matt said to his partner. "Nobody does thumbs up anymore."

"Well, what can I say? I'm just glad we have some sort of victory under our belt." Ridge started down the hall. "Come on, we got that weird guy to question."

Matt followed. "We're getting closer to Sylar, I can feel it. And then there's that new guy, Frost. I think he's going to make a hell of splash in the agency." As they walked, Matt prepared himself for what he did best; interrogation. Nobody else did it like he could, and if he needed to, he felt like he could rip the thoughts from this guys head. "He calls himself Wyrm. We've yet to find out who he really is, but I plan on getting that information from him, as well as why he attacked Claire Bennet."

"So," Ridge said, "Noah kind of removed the leash from you, then?"

Matt shook his head. "This came all the way down from Petrelli. He said, and I quote, rip this guy three new holes to crap out of. The director really has a way with words, don't you think?"

"A regular poet, he is."

The two of them entered another interrogation room, this one even heavier with the stench of fear. Chained to the table was the man who attacked Claire. He was average height, with a nest of black hair and two beady little eyes that never quite made contact with anyone's face. A pink tongue occasionally peeked out, wetting his thin little lips.

Ridge took a seat across from Wyrm, glaring into the side of his face. Matt forced a mental link, peering deep inside the mind of the man. "Why did you attack Claire Bennet?" Ridge asked.

Wyrm shook his head and shrugged, but Matt saw the images in his head. A phone, with her Claire's picture, blood. The word Prometheus floated around in there like a fish in a tiny bowl. "Who do you work for?" Matt asked.

Several words popped up rapidly. Legion, Company, Prometheus Project, The Angel. Of them, the Company made no sense, as they were absorbed by the Agency just three months ago; Noah Bennet saw to it.

"What is the Prometheus Project?" This time, he was answered in images. Sylar, Peter Petrelli, and two other men he'd never seen before. "What does Peter Petrelli have to do with this?" Matt regretted asking this, because the conversation was being recorded, and a red flag was going up somewhere in the country. If he didn't do this fast, Nathan would be in here faster than a cheetah on the Serengeti.

For the first time, Wyrm spoke in a cracked, uneven voice. "Peter Petrelli, subject Point Zero in the All Gift Program of the t Prometheus Project. Know abilities include flight, spontaneous regeneration, induced radioactivity, telepathy, telekinesis, phasing, enhanced strength, space-time manipulation, technopathy, also believed to be in possession of some sort of precognition ability. Contacts include Nathan Petrelli, Claire Bennet, Heidi Petrelli, Angela Petrelli. Signed in by Adam Monroe, witnessed by Martin Baker."

"What the hell?" Ridge asked no one in particular.

Matt stared hard, trying to keep the link, but Wyrm had shocked him into dropping it. "What is the Prometheus Project?" he asked again.

"The search for God," Wyrm answered. "Find Legion. He has your father." Wyrm set both hands on the table and shut his eyes. The table shimmered, a mirage in the desert, and Wyrm fell through it, disappearing.

The door burst open and Nathan Petrelli stormed in. "Where is he?" he demanded. When Matt shrugged, the director went back out, barking orders. "He can't have gotten far. I want the building locked down until we've performed a top to bottom search!"

In the chair Wyrm was seated in was a card with the word Philadelphia and an addressscrawled on it in childish handwriting. It was a hint. "Ridge, pack your bags," Matt said. "We're going to Philly."

Ando Masahashi

Hart Center, Tokyo, Japan

Ando sighed as he exited the building. Four months and still no sign of his best friend, Hiro Nakamura. He had almost no one to share his rapid success, even though it was probably his relationship with Hiro that gained him his new title of assisstant director of the Japan Agency. Katio trusted him.

Since the discovery of Hiro's powers and his subsequent disappearnce, Ando wished for his own powers, hoping to gain even more trust from Kaito. Perhaps it would allow Kaito to take a vacation and search for his lost son.

As Ando walked throught the plaza, he thought of the people he now dealt with, people with abilities. His favorite of course was the beautiful Sakura Miyamoto. The two had coffee together every night, and she enjoyed hearing the tale of Hiro and Ando in America in their quest to stop the explosion. In fact, she was inspired by the story of Hiro and took up sword fighting as well, though she preferred a long sword to a katana.

Ando commended her on her choice to take up the sword, but not follow Hiro completely. That would, of course, leave her lost somewhere or, more likely in Hiro's case, some time.

He caught sight of the Director in the plaza, staring off into the night sky. Kaito seemed to be a romantic at heart, but dreadfull serious on the outside, and Hiro's quest brought out the romantic in him. Ando shouted out to him. "Director!"
Kaito glanced over his shoulder as Ando made his way over. "Ando, you have been a true friend in these cold days." He turned back to the stars. "Tomorrow, the Agency will look to you for direction. Kimiko will take over Yamagato Industries."

"Sir, I don't understand you," Ando said, and Kaito handed him a picture. The picture was of Kaito with the symbol on Hiro's sword painted on it in what looked like blood. "What is this?"

"A challenge, so to speak," Kaito said, crypticly. "From an old friend in the Company, I imagine. A challenge I will take, if only to allow myself a chance to face the old demons."

Kaito walked off, leaving Ando to puzzle over the words from his boss.

Kit Frost

Bangor, Maine

He came back to the present with a wheeze and again nearly vomited. Ashe patted his back as he struggled to regain his balance. "The same guy," he said, coughing. Frost dropped the bullet and he barely heard it bounce on the floor

"You know, I've been thinking," Ashe said.

"Hope you didn't hurt yourself."

"If you can go back, can you go forward?" she asked.

"I'm not really in the mood to try. Every time I take one of these little trips, I lose a little of my lunch," he said, tearing up. Nevertheless, he picked up the bullet again, and tried to fast-forward the same way he rewinded. Shutting his eyes, he focused hard. When he opened them, he found himself and Ashe gone. The lab they stood in was empty, except for a custodian cleaning up. "It worked…" he said to himself.

"Great!" he heard Ashe say, some distance away. Her voice echoed like she was deep in a cave and he was at the mouth, or perhaps the otherway around.

Frost took time to wave his hand in front of the custodian's face. The man didn't blink. The agent felt a whole world opening up to him. He could see anything, if he didn't mind the dizziness. He rewound time.

When he got back, it wasn't as bad as usual. He sat down on a chair, and stared at the wall, while Ashe repacked the evidence away. "Did you hear me?" she asked, and he nodded. "Good. This means we can communicate during these little trips. I won't feel totally left out."

"Don't." Frost said. "You're the muscle after all. I'm not actually going anywhere. I can't influence anything when I'm gone. I need someone to make sure I don't step in anything."

"Ha ha," she said, making an overexagerated happy face.

He stuck his tongue out at her. Then, he snatched the bullet out her hands, and grabbed her wrist. With a quick focus, the forced the click that sent the whole thing in motion. He dragged her with him back to the crime scene. "Feel better?" he asked as they watched the couple get shot again.

She shook her head, and she looked completely nauseated.

Matt Parkman

Philidelphia, Pennsylvannia

The plane landed with ease, and he once again felt the lack of his partner. At the last minute, Ridge had stayed behind to watch Molly. Mohinder had been called away on business, and Claire had troubles of her own with Wyrm gone. They'd searched that building from top to bottom, like Nathan wanted, and Matt had expanded his mind to listen in to the thoughts. Wyrm wasn't there.

Now, here he was, going to see his father for the first time since the bastard left. This could only end badly. Matt knew he was going to regret this.

Claire Bennet

Peter's Apartment, New York

Smokey slept on the couch, snoring softly. Claire asked him to stay, since Nathan called her with news that Wyrm was loose. She just didn't feel safe.

She stepped out onto the balconey and surveyed the skyline. Somewhere down below her, she could feel the eyes of the agents her fathers had sent to keep watch on her. It was strange to have such over protective fathers, but then again, it was weird to have two fathers.

She looked up once into the sky and saw a shooting star of the clearest blue streak across the starlit canopy. Claire shut her eyes and wished that she could have some news about Peter.

When she opened them, a man stood on the balconey with her. He was maybe a year younger than her. His hair was the color of corn silk, and two sad, pale blue eyes stared intenly at her. It was an odd feeling, but Claire felt no threat coming off of him.

"Are you Claire Bennet?" he asked.

She nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm not important. What I've come to tell you, is. Peter Petrelli is alive."
Claire's heart stopped for a second. She couldn't have heard the man right. Peter exploded; he was gone. What was she thinking? She'd just wished for information on Peter, and here it was, all wrapped up in a pretty little bow. "Excuse me?"

"Peter Petrelli lives," the man said again. "He's waiting for you in Toronto. I'd fly you there, but I'm afraid of what I would do to you. My power is, it's unstable. You have to get there. He's lost most of his own gifts, and it's only a matter of time before the others find him. It's all down to you."

The man leapt from the balconey, taking off in a streak of blue. Claire nearly screamed in shock as the man fell three stories before taking flight. She felt the sizzle in the air. When she turned around, she turned into the muddy gray eyes of Smokey. Without a moments hesitation, she said, "I'm going to Canada."

She expected some kind of protest, just what kind, she didn't know. Smokey nodded. "I'm going with you."