Gabriel Gray

New York

Even as he searched for Claire, he was too aware of his surroundings. He knew that a new power was rising here in New York, headed by the sadistic anti-mutant Senator Fred Armstrong. He knew that they knew what he looked like and what he'd done.

Still, he walked past the soldiers with no fear. The powers Michael had given him to give to Claire were extreme to say the least, but he knew how to handle them. Gabriel sighed, entering the small area the hotel called an entertainment center. All around it, the ugly brown buildings of the hotel rose up, and he made his way to his room to wait for night and to begin his search anew.

There was a woman sitting on a beach chair near the desolate, empty pool, crying her eyes out. The old Gabriel would have walked right past without a second look. The new one, however, couldn't help but wonder what had caused her to cry.

He stopped at the door to his room and watched her. She was young, not much younger than he, maybe twenty-six at the max. Her hair was a lovely brownish blonde. She was slight, almost small enough to fit in a mouse hole.

Gabriel couldn't take it. He made his way over and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped to her feet, spinning around to face what she must have thought was a robber. He threw his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine," she very nearly spit at him. It made her ugly. "So just leave me alone, alright?"

She returned to her seat, ignoring Gabriel to the best of her ability. Her entire body quaked under the force of her sobs. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"No," she said, losing conviction. "Just go, please?"

Gabriel did what Michael had told him to do in cases like this. He activated a few of the myriad of powers given to him for Claire Bennet; power sensing and empathic reading. He found out the girl crying wasn't a mutant, and that she had recently lost everyone dear to her.

Gabriel reached out again, this time putting the pad of his thumb to the back of her neck. He didn't quite know what he was doing; it was one of Michael's powers taking hold of him. "What are you doing to me?" she asked, fear now quivering in her voice. "It's so cold, stop it. Stop it!"

She screamed, but didn't move, and no one came to see what was wrong. Gabriel felt that some force within himself migrate out through his thumb. Blood rushed away from his brain and he felt dizzy. The world swayed in his vision and it took all of his strength not to pass out.

Finally, after a minute or three, his hand just feel back to his side. He had enough presence of mind to look at the back of her neck and see a small mark there. It looked like a seed. She stood up again, as he feel to a hunch, waiting for the blood to make it's way back to his head. She backed away, staring at him like he was nuclear. "Who are you? What did you do?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, in answer to both of the questions. He no longer knew he was; he had no sense of identity. Too many people had died in his old quest to be special, and now he did something to her, and he didn't know what.

She leaned over and helped him to his feet. "I'm Mackenzie, Mackenzie Wilkes."

"My name is Gabriel," he said.

"Like the angel?"

It was so innocent a question that he almost laughed. No, he wasn't an angel, not a saint, not anything important. He was just him. "Yeah," he said, smiling. "Like the angel."

Sylar

New York

He looked just like Gabriel Gray, only he pulled a baseball cap down over his face, hoping it would keep him from being spotted. Deep in the back of his mind, the ticking echoed. He knew only one thing: find Claire Bennet and kill her. He pushed his way through the crowd of people, going to the spot he knew her to be.

Sylar didn't know about Gabriel, nor did Gabriel know about Sylar. It was Atom's little gift to the cause. The two were now separate entities, fighting against each other. It should foil what ever little plans Michael had before dying.

Sylar grinned, looking up at the Agency New York HQ building at Kirby Plaza. Inside, Claire Bennet waited to be released, and Sylar was ready to be special.

Claire Bennet

Hart Center, New York

It was taking her longer to heal from the wounds the senator inflicted on her. She still had a ragged gash down her cheek from the last time she gave him an answer he didn't like. In his hands, Armstrong held a scalpel, ready to do more damage. "Where is he, Claire? I don't like to do this," he said, grinning and licking his upper teeth. "I will, but you have to know, it's for your own good."

Never, Claire told herself. She would never give up Peter, even if she knew where he was. Looking at Armstrong, she could tell what he was thinking. He wanted her to scream. She spit in his eye.

"Again, with the spitting, Claire?" Armstrong asked. He shook his head, reaching once more into his case of torture implements, and she feared whatever he would bring out next. "I expect nothing else from you, of course," he said, rejecting what looked like a railroad spike. "You're not human. You're less than human. No human can do what you can do. It's an animal aspect. You're a lizard, Claire, and I intend to force you to be as human as you possibly can. Maybe when I pry the whereabouts of Peter Petrelli from you, I can teach you some manners afterward."

That's when she knew this was never going to end. Armstrong had no intention of letting her go; he was having too much fun.

He pulled out a pair of nail clippers, and she almost laughed. That was before he pinched of a small piece of skin on her arm. Blood poured into her open palm like a small river. She watched it, in shock. Why won't it heal? She asked herself this question again and again. "Tell me where Peter Petrelli is, and you can go back to living a normal life," he said.

"Just like that?" she asked, stringing the madman along. She knew he was lying; he just said he was going to teach her manners after this. There was no freedom here. Claire hopped she sounded desperate enough to make him forego another attack. She needed time to heal before he came at her again.

He nodded, his grin fading to a soft smile. "Just like that. I can do that for you, you know? I can be a nice guy, too, and I can give you such a life that you would never even remember Peter."

She saw a glint of metal behind Armstrong and hoped it was someone come to help her. Then it faded back into the gloom surrounding the small but powerful light they shined in her eyes. "I don't know where he is, though." Now she was almost pleading for her life.

He tsked her, shaking his head. Armstrong moved to her arm again, putting the nail clippers this time in the small amount of webbing between her fingers. "You know I don't believe that." He started to squeeze. Pain racked her body; it was officially too much for her to handle, on top of everything else. Just one more straw on the camel's back. He didn't pinch off the skin, but he held it there. "Tell me what he can do."

"I don't know!" she screamed, he pinched harder.

The door burst open and a soldier came in. "Sir, we have a problem."

Armstrong's face grew crimson. "It can wait!"
"Sir, you're needed down on level three," the soldier said. "It's urgent."

The senator threw his nail clippers in the case and stormed out, the soldier right behind him, flicking the lights out on their way.

Darkness was all she knew for the next few minutes, but she knew some of what went on around her. There was an itching all over her body that tormented her, but she relished it. She was healing. There was time now.

A voice came at her from out of the darkness. "Claire Bennet?" It was a small voice, and it sounded like whoever it was had been crying. She hoped so; if someone could watch what was done to her and not feel something, they didn't deserve to live.

The lights came on, and there stood Hiro Nakamura, with a sword on his back; the glint of light. 'We have to get Gavin!"

"He and others are already gone," Hiro said, wiping his eyes. "That's the problem on level three. It was the reason I waited until now to help you." He reached out, grabbing the leather bands that held her hands. He didn't look her in the eyes.

Claire nodded. It was at least a way to keep suspicion down. "Who sent you? Was it Peter, or Nathan?"

Hiro shook his head. "Both are believed dead, Claire. They haven't been seen since the storm." He un-strapped her hands, and let her deal with her own leg restraints. "No, it was Heidi Petrelli who sent me. I was told to keep it quiet."

A light on the wall started flashing, spinning around and bathing the room in its red glow. Hiro sliced through her leg restraints., and she rushed to his side. "Come on, teleport us out of here! They're on to you!"

He shook his head. "No. Even if they checked the tape, they wouldn't know it was me. I did it all with time frozen. This is something else." Hiro opened the door, and they stepped into the hallway. Claire screamed.

There was a man frozen to the wall, the top of his head cut off and his face forever twisted in pain and terror. "Sylar…" she said.

Speak of the devil, Sylar came around the corner at that moment, stopping when he saw Claire and Hiro. "You…"

Hiro gripped Claire so tight she couldn't breath. Sylar lunged, knowing what was happening before she did. The world before her blinked out of existence, and she found herself across the country. She fell into Heidi's arms.

That night, Claire watched the news in the safety of her own little suite in the Hart Center. Fred Armstrong was killed in the attack, and they were blaming Sylar and Hiro for it, claiming they were working together.

A new guy was already in office, finishing off where Armstrong left off. His name was Eli McGrath.

Viral

Hart Center, Seattle Washington

He sat, as always, at the computer in Heidi's office. His boss this time, however, was Ando, the Japanese man he outfitted with a mechanical hand. Viral already gave him a nickname, and Ando loved it. Cobra.

Back into Armstrong's personal file, he found a number of things interesting. First off, Armstrong was working to eliminate the threat of the Evolutionarily Advance peoples. Second, Armstrong was in deep with a group known as Prometheus. When Hiro heard about this, his eyes just about popped out of his head. Then, he ran off to speak with Parkman and Hiro.

The biggest thing, though, was Blueberry Hill. It was called a prison for dangerous mutants, but the entire list of people in there were just ordinary mutants. There was a girl in there know who had the talent to make plants grow, how dangerous was that? Only good could come from a talent like that. Ando's word on it was to investigate further.

So, here he finds himself, entrenched in Blueberry Hill's record, and it was bleaker by the second. Why would a prison need such a large amount of medical equipment? The only thing Viral could think of was Nazi concentration camps. "Ando, I think you need to see this," Viral said, prining out a copy of the layout of the place.

"What is it?" Ando said, lifting the page as it printed out. He surveyed the map and his jaw dropped. "What is this? Oven? An entire building is marked Over?"