Will Stone

Seattle, Washington

Not for the first time that day, Will felt completely revolted by himself. He had to borrow money from Teagan for the cab ride here. He was here to pick up his cousin, Gavin Stone, from Kansas for the rally coming in the next week. He stood waiting by the front doors, hoping he could get Gavin home.

The whole situation felt weird to Will. The only reason Teagan loaned him the money was because she liked Gavin, even though he was fresh out of high school. He couldn't even buy a legal drink yet. Gavin was the complete opposite of Will, though. Will had been a loser in high school, while Gavin was the star quarterback.

The cousins looked a lot alike; the same brown hair and eyes, roughly the same bone structure. The only real difference was that Gavin was muscular.

It was about noon when Gavin meet Will at the front door, his only bag thrown over his shoulder. Already suspicious about Gavin's sudden interest in Seattle, Will asked, "Aren't you a little early for the rally?"

Gavin shrugged. "I thought we could spend some time together, man. You and I, we're birds of a feather."
Will doubted this, and just about anything that came out of Gavin's mouth. Gavin was already on his way to being, if not rich, than reasonably well off, and that meant he had an agenda, at least in Will's experience. "So, I take it you've taken the test, too?"

"Nope," Gavin said with a shake of the head. "I'd already manifested, and there really was no reason to prove what I already knew. I did register though." Yes, Will thought, always the good little monkey. "Shadow Manipulation. What about you?"

"I took the test, Sonic Manipulation," Will said, leading his cousin outside.

To further his disgust, Gavin didn't hail a cab. Instead, he'd rented a car in advance, and it was waiting for him when they exited the building.

Noel Gillespie

Las Vegas, Nevada

The two of them sprang out of nowhere; one of them a tall blonde woman, the other a weird guy with black hair and muddy eyes. It was the woman who approached her. "Are you Noel Gillespie?"

Noel nodded.

"This is the right place, then."

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled. "My name is Elle Bishop. I work with a bunch of other people, with talents like us. You could say we're like the Justice League."

Kit Frost
Hart Center, New York

He held in his hands the baggie containing the bullet from a sniper rifle pulled from the heart of a young Evolved girl. It was Samael's MO. Ashe sat nearby, ready to talk him through this little talent experiment. "Ready when you are," she said, and he sighed.

"It's not you on the line, is it?" Frost asked. This whole idea really scared him, a hell of a lot more than insurgents in Iraq. At least you know they what they could do; as for himself, he had no idea. He took in a deep breath, and pulled the bullet out.

"Now," Ashe said, "you can hear me when you go on these trips." He nodded, despite the fact that it wasn't a question. "Then off you go and I'll walk you through it."

He shut his eyes, waiting for the click that started the rewinding process. When he opened them, he found himself being pulled backwards from the Evolved girl towards a far off building. That's when he saw Samael, sitting behind the rifle, pulling the trigger as the round flew back into the muzzle. Frost nodded, knowing, if nothing else, Ashe could see him.

"Drop the bullet, and grab him," Ashe said, coming from a long way off. Her voice sounded like it was underwater. He did as she request and shut his eyes again, this time fast-forwarding.

He opened them again, surprised at what he found. A Hart Center, somewhere other than New York. The sign in the lobby said it was Seattle, and it was supported by the fact the Samael was being led by Mohinder It seemed Samael was a little curious about his own blood. Frost speed time up, enough to get to the small medical room where Mohinder would test the killer.

"Our little friend thinks he might have evolved," Frost said, hoping Ashe could hear him. Mohinder and Samael sure couldn't. He watched raptly as Mohinder left with a syringe of Samael's blood. Speeding through things, Frost waited impatiently for Mohinder to come back. He felt he had to know if he was dealing with an Evolved being. It would be even more important if he could find out what ability Samael possessed.

When Mohinder opened the door, returning to tell the killer his fate, the image broke up, turning to static. It ripped through Frost's brain like wild fire, tearing him up. Pain surged throughout his body. The last thing he remembered seeing was Mohinder nod, but the sound was lost.

Then, everything went black.

Hector Ortega

Hart Center, Seattle

Most people wouldn't think of Hector as dangerous. He wasn't especially big, but he packed one hell of punch, and things weren't going his way in a fight, he could always shock his opponent.

Now, as he made his was to the field offices, Hector grinned. It was public knowledge that Matt Parkman was in charge of the search for Sylar. Parkman, it seemed, had an edge of sociopath. Now, he had the muscle he lost when Agent Ridge was incapacitated. More important, Hector was going to get his shot at Sylar, something that smug little killer would never see coming.

He met Parkman just outside the field office that he spent the night in. Hector went straight to attention, salute and all. It was the way he used to greet higher ranking officers back in the service. Matt wasn't quite what he imagined him to be. Agent Parkman was portly, short and round. How they believed he could stand against someone like Sylar was beyond him, but he didn't question orders. After all, this was his first field assignment, and he wasn't going to let first impressions get him thrown off the case, not for the world.

Parkman looked a little confused at the salute. Screw him, if he didn't get it, that was the way Hector saw it. He finished the salute. "Agent Ortega, reporting for duty."

"Okay," Matt said, sounding more than a little perplexed. Civilians, Hector thought.

"You called in for back-up, and now here I am," Hector clarified. "What's the problem?"

"It's not as big as I made it out to sound, but I could use the assistance," Parkman said, with a sheepish half grin. He started walking down the hall, and Hector fell into step behind him. "I've got a tip about a place up north, and I went to investigate. There, I found the missing Molly Walker, who is now safe in the custody of Dr. Suresh. There were a lot of armed guards, and I was afraid they would retaliate. They were clearly able to do so, and in force. You and I, however, are going back after I send my report to Director Bennet."

Hector nodded, even though Parkman couldn't see him. He wasn't getting his shot at Sylar just yet, but he was getting action. He hoped Parkman could keep up with him.

Nathan Petrelli

New York, New York

Matt's report came straight to the desk of Director Petrelli. It contained just the right words to be flagged. Prometheus Group, right at the top, in big bold letters. Considering his mother's last words, Nathan felt like this was sent from a higher force in the universe. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was Peter's doing, and that was the first person he called.

"Pete, we got a hit on Prometheus," he said into his cell phone.

"Already?"

Nathan nodded, despite that fact that his brother was on the phone. "It seems an agent of ours has already had a run in with them, and plans on investigating a facility in Alaska. The problem is, he thinks they're going to make a move in Seattle, which is too possible to even think twice about. The city's having what's being called as the first Mutant Rally in a few days."

"Yeah, Claire told me about that rally, just a few minutes ago," Peter said. "We were planning on heading out there tomorrow."

"That's good, Pete, but I don't know if I want you or Claire out where there could be danger. It's just that we're finally starting to make some sort of family again, and I don't want to lose either of you."

"We'll be fine, Nathan. Quit worrying." Peter said. He then changed the subject. "Have you spoken to Hiro, yet?"

Nathan sighed. He knew when he lost a fight with Peter, even after four months. Some things just don't change. "Yeah, he was looking for help finding his father's killer. I told him that you and I had a few other things to look into, but that he could access to Agency assets, both here and in Japan. His friend Ando will see to it."

"That's good," Pete said. There was something odd in his voice, and Nathan wanted to ask about it, but thought better. He knew what it was, but wanted to make sure. It was doubt. Pete doubted himself again. It was the same tone he had right before he blew up, back in the parking garage that very night. He'd come to ask for help from Nathan, but Nathan hadn't quite undone their mother's spell. In the end, Nathan came through, but he couldn't help wondering if Pete would doubt himself as much if Nathan would have helped from the beginning. "Look, Nathan. I gotta go. Claire and I are going out for food and…"

"Say no more, Pete," Nathan said. "I understand. Just, just wait and talk to me before the two of you head out to Seattle, okay?"

"Okay."

"Pete," Nathan said, feeling his heart leap into his throat. He didn't know why, but he felt it had to be said. He felt as if something bad was going to happen. "I love you, Pete."

"Love you, too. Bye." And just like that he was gone. There was nothing coming from his end of the line except for the dial tone. Nathan let himself sink into his chair. It should be him going out to Seattle with Peter, if anybody. Claire should be living her life, somewhere safe, where she didn't have to worry about saving the world. Jesus! She was only sixteen. This was his responsibility.

The door to his office, derailing his train of thought. Heidi stepped in and walked to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. She moved oddly stiff, and Nathan felt his stomach sink. It was time for the truth to come out. Heidi would demand answers: about Claire, about what happened November 8th, about how Peter exploded, and about where Peter had been. He inhaled sharply, feeling like he was losing his grip on the world around him.

"Nathan," Heidi said, her voice distant and cold, "We need to talk."
Oh dear God, this is it, Nathan thought. "Yes, yes we do."

"We need to talk about Claire."

Again, it felt like his heart had climbed into his throat. This was it, the moment of truth. He would either lose everything that mattered, or add a new member to the family, depending on the words he said now, and Heidi never bought his political mumbo-jumbo. There was only the truth, here.

"Why haven't you told me about her?" Her voice was strangely light, her tone playful. Nathan was perplexed, his mind boggled, his energy spent.

"What do you mean?"

"You know I've always wanted a daughter."

There it was, out in the open, and…

…Wait, what?

Heidi went on. "I mean, I love Simon and Monty to death, but come on! I could actually have some fun with a daughter, and Claire looks like she likes to shop."

Nathan's heart skipped a beat. Sweat dripped from his brow. He exhaled, heavily, for the first time feeling like a massive weight was off his shoulders. "I, I, I…"

"Let's invite her to dinner, tomorrow," Heidi said, standing up. "We have so much to catch up on. Sixteen years is a long time, and I want to know everything, including when she was conceived." There it was, the point of the blade she meant to stab into him, but he didn't hold it against her. "You have some explaining to do when you get home. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay with her, but you might end up on the couch for the next few years."

Nathan laughed, barely able to breath.

Will Stone

Seattle, Washington

It was walks like this that helped him not drink. Gavin was back at his place, talking with Mackenzie and Teagan about things back home in Kansas, and Will was here, clearing his mind.

Will had always had a feeling of something grand in his chest. He thought it was that he was meant to write the next great novel, but that obviously went bust a long time ago. Sure, he was only twenty-four, but his lungs and his liver were turning a nasty shade of black and his imagination was never too good. Three years ago, he realized it and he started taking to the bottle. His big reason was kaput, no more, nothing left, no passing go, no two hundred dollars.

Behind him, he heard the sounds of a scuffle. He turned back to see some hoodlum trying to steal the purse from a woman, about a block or two away. The woman was putting up a hell of a fight, but she couldn't hold on forever. The robber was reaching into his pocket, most likely for a weapon.

For Will, the world slowed to almost turtle speed and he ran towards the fight. He was always that way, willing to fight to defend people he couldn't. As he ran, he had time to look around. This part of Seattle was slowly diminishing, going to gangs and drug-dealers. It even had a problem with prostitution.

He didn't think, just let his body act. He shocked himself when yelled, shooting his hands forth to bend the sound of his voice, twisting it into a weapon, and letting it slam full force into the would be robber, he flew at least sixteen feet into the air, and came down with a thud on the half a block down.

The woman turned to thank him, but he didn't hear it. What he heard instead was the sound of the robber's gun hit the ground and go off, breaking the window in the store behind the woman. She screamed and took of into the night, begging for him not shoot her.

He didn't pay any attention to her. The store itself had captured all of his attention. It was a comic book store. He felt the pages of the comics call to him, and he knew what he had to do with his life.

Will had been given a gift, not to abuse it, but use it, for the good of the world. He was here to save the day, like those who had come before him. Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, the X-Men. He'd heard his calling, and would live up to it everyday, fighting for the cause.

In his heart, Will knew his days of drinking were over.