Disappointed there hadn't at least been the verbal posturing of so many hero types, Alastair flicked his fingers twice with an almost dismissive air, once towards himself and once away from himself. The one toward him peeled the side of one of the abandon pieces of machinery, the piece flying over and beneath his feet so Alastair could sidestep the everwidening crack.
The flick away from him was to slam Petrelli into the machine that had just been skinned on one side.
"I can appreciate the sentiment in trying to send me back downstairs, but it won't quite work that way," he called out with a grin.