There's a flash and a bang and a very confused man with ridiculous hair appears, hovering a few feet above the rubble of a destroyed parking lot
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It's remarkably easy to hide the sharp, hot twist of rage behind a pleasant, friendly expression.
"Mind telling me how that works?"
It doesn't obey the rules he's used to, that's for sure. He'd need more study to really be certain, and somehow Sylar doubts this arrogant young man is going to hold still for further examination.
Now I'm the real Nathan Petrelli, all you other Petrellis are just illusionating. So won't the real Nathan Petrelli please fly around, please fly around?
Oh look, he is! Shooting across the sky, leaving a contrail on one of his aerial surveys of the region.
Has he noticed the hovering man over the parking lot?
Not duplicate powers, then, so much as duplicate people.
Well.
"Isn't this interesting," Sylar calls from the ground, and Nathan's own face - five years older and a great deal more amused-looking - smiles up at him.
The narration is sure it has made this joke before, but:
Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?!
NO!
It's a Canadian kid on a jetpack! A far more common sight, to be sure.
It affords him a pretty good vantage point from which to spot Sylar. There is, he has to admit, a little bit of guilt when he recognises the disguise. Mainly at the slightly disappointing ratio of making out versus inventing reality-punching machines in his recent activities.
Still: "Hey!" Good-naturedly, as he redirects subtle levers to bring himself into a gentle landing dive. "It was... Nathan, eh?"
Stephen touches down and mostly-depowers the jetpack, leaving it just weightless enough to sit like a feather on his shoulders rather than dragging on them like any other huge amalgamation of metals by rights would.
Well, in that case. "Stephen Bell." He offers his hand.
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"Interesting," he comments, and the focus of the charismatic politician's eyes is just a little too intent.
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"Mind telling me how that works?"
It doesn't obey the rules he's used to, that's for sure. He'd need more study to really be certain, and somehow Sylar doubts this arrogant young man is going to hold still for further examination.
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So won't the real Nathan Petrelli please fly around, please fly around?
Oh look, he is! Shooting across the sky, leaving a contrail on one of his aerial surveys of the region.
Has he noticed the hovering man over the parking lot?
Or bigger news, has the hovering man noticed him?
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Now he's a staring man.
Duplicate powers? Rare but possible.
This bears further investigation.
Peering man, then.
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Nathan continued moving through the air, and circled around, closer to the ground. Someone new? He was still about 50 feet up. Then 20 feet.
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Well.
"Isn't this interesting," Sylar calls from the ground, and Nathan's own face - five years older and a great deal more amused-looking - smiles up at him.
Reply
Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?!
NO!
It's a Canadian kid on a jetpack! A far more common sight, to be sure.
It affords him a pretty good vantage point from which to spot Sylar. There is, he has to admit, a little bit of guilt when he recognises the disguise. Mainly at the slightly disappointing ratio of making out versus inventing reality-punching machines in his recent activities.
Still: "Hey!" Good-naturedly, as he redirects subtle levers to bring himself into a gentle landing dive. "It was... Nathan, eh?"
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He hasn't met this kid before.
On the other hand, there's a really good explanation for why that is.
Two, but one of them is much likelier.
"But I think you may have encountered the other me. Looks like there's two around here."
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Stephen touches down and mostly-depowers the jetpack, leaving it just weightless enough to sit like a feather on his shoulders rather than dragging on them like any other huge amalgamation of metals by rights would.
Well, in that case. "Stephen Bell." He offers his hand.
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His handshake is...
...
...oddly familiar, actually.
"That's a nice piece of equipment you have there. Where'd you find it?"
THE NARRATION IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR POTENTIAL MISINTERPRETATIONS OF SYLAR'S DIALOGUE. SERIOUSLY.
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