A ghost. How perfect. Sylar thought he was past all of this. Past the hallucinations and the dual personalities. Past the identity crisis. So why was she here, standing in front of him? He knew she was dead. She had to be. He had done it himself and then he had taken care of body by burning it. He'd stood there until she was no longer recognizable. He knew she was dead and yet... here she was. It was... intriguing. He didn't understand why he was seeing her of all people. Why not Claire? Why not his mother again? Why not Bennett or Danko or even Peter? But Elle? He had made his peace with what had happened to her.
"That's not a party trick I've picked up," he answered her, tone level and cautious. "Are you a ghost?" he questioned, head tilting to the side as he considered her. She didn't seem real, but he had seen people glance at her as they passed by before he'd stopped her. She was real but... how? Who had been behind him, cleaning up his messes? And how had they managed to bring her back to life from what he'd done? Cellular regeneration was impressive but he knew it couldn't be that impressive. Her brain tissue had to have been ash, her heart... burned away. There was no way.
"It's funny... the last time I saw you was on the beach," Sylar drawled, dark eyes drifting to the ocean not far away from where they were. "Feeling nostalgic, are we?"