He felt like he was sinking.
His eyes were still locked upon themselves within his reflection when his left hand loosened its grip upon the edge of the sink. It moved slowly, rising to trace his features in the cool surface of the mirror. The right was soon to join it, palms flattening, fingers spread wide against the cold glass to frame his face. Nathan was helpless to stop them, for he could not move. He could only watch as his face took on a peculiar and disquieting blankness of expression. The pounding in his chest, the flickering light of sheer terror that dawned briefly in the eyes that stared back were all that were really him.
The corner of his mouth drew up in the barest shadow of a smirk. Then the image in front of him rippled. Soon there was nothing of Nathan left there at all.
It was a disconcerting experience looking into the mirror and feeling someone else stare back. That was one sentiment to which they could both agree. If in the back of the monster's mind any piece of Nathan Petrelli survived at all, it would soon bear witness to sights infinitely more disturbing.