Gabriel? No one called him Gabriel. What was wrong with his brain? The Marker. It had to be causing the problems. There was always rhyme and reason inside his mind. His gift was understanding; this liar would not take that from him. He would not let it. Suffering could come to anything. Everything had a way of knowing pain. Even the very Earth herself could hurt if someone knew how to twist the screws just right and Sylar knew how to hurt.
"Elle," he stated firmly, "You are not dead. I murdered you once. I won't do it again. I will stop this liar. I will hurt it. It's trying to take away my gift. Make me confused. Take my understanding. It lies."
She didn't want him to touch it. Why? Did she think he'd use it somehow to hurt others? He was a hero. Why would no one believe him? He was a hero.
All his life he'd wanted to be better than ordinary. Now, he had everything he'd ever wanted and then some to spare. He would live forever. The world would die around him and all that would remain would be himself and Claire, pretty Clairebear. She would be there with him in the end. She might even love him then. Time would tell as it always did. The son of a watchmaker knew things about time others did not. Studying the passage of minutes to hours to days to weeks to months to years was all a watchmaker ever did: watch as time passed them by.
Time did not pass Sylar by now.
He existed inside time now.
"I'm a hero. I can destroy it. I can tear it apart. Dismantle it. I can. It hurts me because it knows. Can't you feel it, Elle? Can't you feel its fear? Beneath all the lies, that's what it's trying to hide, but I see through it. I see it. I feel it. I hear it. I can stop it."