The Sixth Extinction

[i_can_fix_it]

Character(s): Gabriel "Sylar" Gray and Claire Bennet
Summary: Building 26 is never shut down. No one convinces the president that it's best to just drop the matter of evolved humans, and Danko is given cart blanche to deal with the super-powered threat as he sees fit. In the next century the Evolved are hunted to the brink of extinction, either

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[i_can_fix_it]

There was probably no one else left who would have known Claire in this state. Sylar was certain the moment he stepped through the doorway, before he even approached the slab. The ice in his blood melted quickly and began to boil furiously as he looked at her, reached out a hand and touched her matted, greasy hair. His own brunette locks had been shorn away completely to barely military fuzz, but Claire had obviously been here for som time, and no one gave a damn.

He had never seen such monstrosity. It rivaled even what had been done to him in Primatech, and though he knew immortals were used like this he had never seen it. Now he saw, and to Claire of all of them, his prey and his nemesis for so long. He hadn't seen her in what may now be decades, but that doesn't change the depth of their bloody and violent history.

Sylar paced away to the door again, popping his head out into the hall. In a few moments a man in a pristine white labcoat approached, and the taller man caugt his attention with a quiet, "Excuse me, sir, there's something..."

The man rolled his eyes, thinking he migt be dealig with a new orderlie and walked in readily, unsuspecting. His neck snapped as soon as the door shut, dropping the doctor to the floor. Sylar left him, for the moment, little more than an icy glare at his corpse before he set about his work. "I think it will be better this way," he murmured quietly as he used a broken shard of one of the machines as a blade, sliding it neatly into the back of her head. Life signs ceased immediately, but he was unconcerned. It gave him the chance to remove all of the needles and tubing and left her limp and accomodating as he gathered her up, bundled like little more than twigs in the dead doctor's coat.

They'd captured him on a fluke and with massive ammounts of men and firepower. There was no way they could be prepared to contain him, not knowing that he was awake and out. With the girl cradled in his arm he walked out with a trail of bodies and destruction behind him. He had to sneak them out into a vehicle to get them away, but he'd never had a problem running. Somehow though, in spite of all the lives taken to pay for hers, an empty pit still sank in his stomach whenever he looked at her or felt how thin shed grown.

He had a safehouse under another name, another form, an he took her there before he dared revive her. With her skeleton form laid in an antique clawfoot tub full of warm and bubbly water he finally grasped the shard and drew it out.