2007-09-27: Approaching Midnight

Identity_icon.gif Benjamin_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif Nova_icon.gif Church_icon.gif Sylar_icon.gif

All is not right with the world. Sylar and Kellie, working together, break into Primatech Research, each for their own gains. This log follows Sylar as he ventures down into Level 5.

September 27, 2007

Chapter Two


Approaching Midnight

Primatech Research: Level 5

A night like any other. It starts that way, as unassuming and routine as rounds at a clandestine facility keeping people with remarkable abilities secret can be. It's never quite mundane, is it? Yet still, today has seemed no different than the day before it.

It starts that way. It will not end that way.

In the office wing, all is quiet. The elusive Mr. Madson is nowhere in sight, Mr. Bennet seems to be out for the day, Mr. Bishop is either holed up in his office or busy elsewhere - which isn't to say employees and captives are unguarded. A room full of security cameras notes every action, and many offices have their own link-up to security, too.

Far, far down below, the scene is different. Darker. Colder, and a hell of a lot more segregated.


Behind thick glass walls, bitter captives pace restlessly, like animals before a storm.

Identity Woods hates paperwork. It is for this reason alone she usually keeps her visits to the office at a minimum. She's much better in the field, everyone knows this, and her handwriting is atrocious. She refuses to use a computer, so most of her forms look like a dyslexic spider, dipped in ink, had a seizure of epic proportions all over them. Filling these things in also takes her forever. Fo-eh-vah. After roughly four minutes of scrawling, she kicks closed a drawer, maliciously stabs a stack of post-it notes with a ballpoint pen, and announces, "I need an intern to break." She probably meant break in.

As it has been since he started with the Company, Benjamin's keeping odd hours. Staying at work late really isn't a problem, so there are no complaints. Plus he has multiple projects on his desk. Pecking away at the keys of his keyboard, he works diligently.

Looking up from her desk at the sound of Identity's frustration, Elle arches a brow. No sympathy registers on her face, but she does ask, "You, too?" She's stuck behind several different monitors, watching them with an expression of abject boredom, her chin resting in her hand. There's a coffee cup beside her, long-emptied, and a small stack of paperwork that she ought to be filling out, rather than doodling absently on. Eventually, her attention drifts back to the security camera feeds, but she's not exactly paying close attention.

Down here, it's a quasi-familiar sight. The windows, the people behind them. Nova navigates the hallways in a familiar pattern, and all but ignores those captured Evolved behind the glass save to make sure they're there. That everything is as it should be. For a large part, it is. She wears loose, casual pants, a white wife-beater covered partially by a holster and over that, a jacket. Her hair is tied back severely as usual, and she casts a troubled, untrusting glance towards the restless prisoners as she walks on by. "Must be a full moon," she mutters.

There's a slim chance that Lawrence has captured, fought, or otherwise encountered any of those currently being held in Level Five; this does not take away from the fact that he knows them by heart, and they only see him as a man outside of those cold cell walls. A man that is there to do his rounds on them- prisoners under lock and key. At least, so to speak. He comes fully dressed in a suit, like most times, and fully loaded, like less times. It's not so much the fact that he likes carrying a gun; just that whenever he is on duty, it is protocol. He has only recently started through the level, brown eyes drifting observantly through the plates of heavy glass that separate him from the detainees. Church knows that there is another agent already down here, but he does not seem to pay the fact much heed until he hears the mutter around the next corner. Another few steps brings Nova into sight. Oh. Lawrence doesn't say anything, simply nods in greeting as he enters the next part of the hallway.

Beyond walls and corridors is a commotion. The greyscale screens situated around the facility, aimed on the typically most uneventful areas of the building, suddenly show a burst of activity. It's hard to miss, spanning several screens from different angles — one of the screens even flickers and goes into a series of dead static as if knocked out. That would be because it's on fire.

Near the entrance and subsequent hospital wing…

The first to walk in is Kellie. When the door swings open, she stalks in with an eerie sort of confidence, a wicked smirk on her face. The reaction is instantaneous, as two agents leap to their feet and reach for their weapons— and half a second later, they're both on the ground, writhing in pain from the flames that have engulfed them. Stepping over them, the pyro walks at a brisk pace. As she passes a desk, she oh-so-casually trails her hand along its surface. Fire springs up behind her touch, quick to spread over the entire top of the desk. Two more agents appear, but she's already stepped into the hallway, navigating the facility expertly.

And directly behind Kellie is Sylar. He walks in behind her, slowly, a grin already creeping across his face as his gaze flickers around the faces in the room. His eyes travel to the nearby desk that recently burst into flames by the hand of Kellie, with a smirk, he lifts a hand in its direction, and with a simple flick of the fingers, the desk launches into the air. It flies across the room, heading straight towards a young intern, who hits the floor just in time. The desk hits the wall and splinters in multiple pieces, taking out a decent sized chunk of the wall, as well. The pieces fall to nearby desks and the floor, adding more fuel to the already spreading flames.

The killer moves forward, Kellie ignored for the time being. Any agents or interns that get in his way are simply tossed aside into whatever may be in the way, helpless victims of telekinesis. Stepping over the same two agents that Kellie stepped over only moments before, Sylar follows her partway down the hallway, only to split off and head down another branch, slamming the door open in front of him with another flick of the wrist. He takes the stairs down, which will lead him where he most wants to be: Level 5.

In the wing of Level 5 Nova and Church converge in, a man in a straight jacket moves to the face of the glass, standing very still and craning his neck to look down the dark corridor, past them. Another man flattens his palm against his confines, frosting over the glass repeatedly, never enough.

The rest stop and listen to the footsteps.

An alarm goes off. Mayday, mayday, it seems to ring, calling all agents to the alert. They should recognize the tone. Danger in the highest order. We're being infiltrated.

Id tosses her pen to the desk blotter, and shoots a glance over at Elle. Then a nod. She kicks back in her chair, glances at a half cup of untouched office coffee on her desk, and shakes her head slightly. She pulls open the drawer at the desk, in search of candy. She finds three old tootsie rolls and what looks like it might be a butterscotch. Then the alarm sounds, "God does love me." Oh wait, was that out loud? Identity gets to her feet, kicks her chair out of the way, and reaches into another drawer to pull out the gun she never carries, reaching back to shove it into her jeans. All the knives on her person are already situated.

One file saved and completed, Benjamin continues with the next document in his efficient manner. Surely ingrained from birth, which would explain why he worked so well as an accountant. Raising a hand, he pauses in typing to rub at the back of his neck, feeling a faint itchiness. Which is about the time the alarm goes off. His head snaps up and his eyes widen. Not having a weapon to grab, as he hasn't been assigned one, he jumps up from his seat, mentally preparing himself for what may be ahead. Seeing as this is his first red alert under Company employ, he's going to try and not lose his head. He glances over to the more senior agents there in the office before taking action.

It takes a second or two for Elle to really snap to attention. It's the static that gets her first, and suddenly she's sitting up straight in her desk. "What—" And then the alarm goes. Searching the monitors quickly, Elle hits a button on her keyboard, pausing one of the feeds. "It's Sylar." Shoving back her chair, she reaches for no weapon, moving straight past Identity's desk and sparing her only a glance in passing. "I think I know what he's after. Let's go." …was Benjamin looking for guidance from Elle and Identity? Because following these women might very well mean he does lose his head, considering Elle's headed for the staircase down to Level 5.

Nova opens her mouth to greet the other agent, probably just casually addressing him by his last name before she can disappear around a corner to finish up her security rounds— just as the alarm goes off. Ironic, that those most powerful to deal with any kind of threat are the ones locked away. Luckily, she makes a career out of being capable. Her gun is in hand before she can even think, snapping a look down the hallway, subconsciously in the direction that the prisoners peer down. A glance is cast to Church, before she's on the move. "No one gets in here," Nova barks at him, over the alarms - less of an order and more of a call for agreement.

It has perhaps been years since Lawrence Church has heard that particular dreadful racket. That familiar, horrible racket that sounds when something is actually going down inside of a Company facility. It takes all of a millisecond for the adrenaline to send a shiver up his spine and grit his expression into seriousness. He moves to un-holster his gun, mimicking Nova in where he turns his attention, then following up with a short, quick observation of who is in which cell around him. Lawrence nods at Nova's upraised voice, weapon at the ready when he falls back to cover the nearest access points; he keeps as many things under his sight as he can possibly muster, eyes sharp and eyebrows knitted in concentration.

It doesn't take the killer long to reach his destination. Level 5 is situated further down due tot he nature of its purpose, but the rate at which Sylar travels down the stairs, his eagerness could be compared to that of a giddy child who's been set loose in a toy store. Of course, there's no laughter of a child coming from this man. As soon as he's in sight of the entrance toe the facility, he brings a hand out in front of him, and the doors fly open with massive force, revealing the hallway beyond, Nova, and the prisoners peering in his general direction. He smiles, a happy, satisfied, 'oh look at all the shiny new toys' smile, and raises a hand in Nova's direction. A flick of the wrist, bending of the fingers.. if his aim is true, Nova will find herself lifted off of the floor, heading straight for the glass of a nearby prisoner's cell.

All over the facility, agents of all seniority levels rush to action, making sure they're armed, double-checking security, making hasty, clipped calls to their superiors. All of them are careful, but that doesn't stop several from jogging in the direction of the flames, and others in the same direction as Identity and Elle. For Level 5 to be messed with… would spell catastrophe.

Several more of the security monitors crackle with dead lines and become useless static. Flames engulf the view of yet others, frantic figures in-between them. One of the areas that remains under surveillance is that of Level 5 and its murderously greedy guest.

Villains know villains when they see them. They recognize their kind. These several individuals, have been locked away for years - decades, in many cases — for the awful, horrible, unthinkable things they have done, the sheer mayhem they could inflict upon the world. Now, their cumulative expressions bely not fear, not challenge, but hunger. The cell Nova is flung at is that of the cryokinetic. He splays his hand, blue with ice and cold. If only he could touch her.

Id's right with Elle, headed to the stairwell. Down into hell, Benji! "Pick it up if you're coming with!" Identity calls to any agent straggling in the room. "Sylar. Haven't had the pleasure." The women lead the way down to level 5, right into the belly of the beast. Id takes the stairs two at a time, no weapons in her hands just yet. Fingers of one hand trail lightly along the handrail as she goes. Here, kitty, kitty.

When the women head down to Level 5, Benjamin thinks twice about joining them. His power is spotty, and he knows his control doesn't work like he wants. But on the offchance he can help and is of use, he follows. If the hesitation continues, he shows no signs of changing his mind. Elle said 'Sylar', that's got his attention. He joined this company for several reasons, stopping people like Sylar being one of them. Wordlessly, he picks up the pace, following the other agents down.

Feeding off of Identity's excitement, Elle rushes to keep up, wasting no time. In passing other agents, some who look too nervous to deal with the likes of Sylar, she barks, "Out of the way!" Somehow, she resists the urge to call them rookies. She's thinking it, though, and the unimpressed glower she throws their way makes no secret of it. And then she blows past, winding down the staircase, she too keeping one hand along the handrail as she descends.

Everyone under the employ of the Company know this man's face. Know who he is. Nova's eyes go wide when the doors slam open to reveal the serial murderer, her blood going ice cold even as her finger starts to squeeze the trigger of her pointed handgun. But abruptly, the world tilts, her grip loosening as she's suddenly flung back, off her feet, 6'2" worth of muscular Australian flying past Church and into the glass of a cell just behind her. Suffice to say it doesn't break, even if it's frosted over, which is a testament to whoever made the material. Bouncing off the window, she lands hard onto the cement floor with a guttural grunt, gun skittering away. Ignoring all else, that is what she goes for, on hands and knees, despite the sudden accumulation of bruises up her back and arms.

Church holds himself back around the corner as the sounds of the doors wrenching open echoes through the level. His gun might be at the ready, but the want to round the corner and send something up in pieces is severely tempting to Lawrence. Bullets only do so much, and this sounds bad. Again, he double checks the cells nearest him, eyes skirting the prisoners and making mental notes. No. Warnings.

Suddenly, there is a familiar figure flying through the hall where he had come from, and the man grits his teeth as Nova hits the floor. Is it getting kind of hot down here, or is it just me? Lawrence steps forward, gun drawn- he fires as soon as he rounds the corner into the hallway. He does know this face, this man, but only after he fires his weapon. It is a shoot first environment down in Level Five.

With Nova tossed out of the way, Sylar turns to the nearest cell, eyes falling on the villain inside. The villain stares back, breathing heavy as he makes eye contact with Sylar, until he suddenly slams a fist against the glass. Sylar doesn't flinch, move, or even blink, but simply smiles back. "Hello," he says, raising his left hand— which he suddenly throws out to his left, the sound of Church's gun alerting him and ringing throughout the hallway. His hand stops the bullet short, by only a few inches, and it falls to the floor with a soft plink on the concrete. "Hmm…" he mutters, softly, and his raises his hand towards the cell of the cryokinetic— and with a pulling motion, and a closing of the fist, the glass shatters, blown outwards into the hallway.

There's that hunger again. For freedom. The man in the straight jacket starts shouldering himself against the glass over and over again. A woman, further down, wriggles her fingers at her side in anticipation, and the man in the cell next to her watches the scene from a further distance.

One of them gets his freedom. For how long is to be determined, but the cryokinetic will take what he can get. The thick glass, tempered especially against the damaging effects of his ice by God knows what science, is decimated by the telekinetic force of Sylar's mind. Just like that. Faced with the wave of heat emanating from Church, the first thing the man does is to outstretch an arm in the man's direction, firing off a blast of cold and ice. It melts in the air, not quite reaching Church, but battling the temperature of the corridor. The shattered glass scattered on the floor - and over Nova - ice over.

Breakneck speed down the steps pretty much ensures Identity is going to launch into the fray at a most inopportune time. Inopportune for whom is the real question—the important question. She hits level 5 and slows immediately. She slips out of the stairwell, sliding a smaller knife from the sleeve of her jacket. A few steps in and she hefts it in her hand, lifting the blade to wing it silently at the back of Sylar's neck. The blade flashes end over end toward the Company's Big Scary.

Following the Agents down, Benjamin is part of the swarm. Along with panicked thoughts, he's wondering if he should be apart of another group of agents, ready to stop anyone trying to run out as opposed to the initial wave. Once down in level 5, he's mentally steeling himself to use his ability. "… holy… shit.." is breathed as he gets a good look. There's Sylar, one cell breached. Taking quick stock of the situation, he aims his power to knock out the Cryokinetic. If the guy drops down asleep, it might distract Sylar for someone better suited to knock out Gray than himself. At the least, hopefully he can take the guy out and that's one less thing to worry about.

Much like Identity, Elle shows no sign of hesitation as she steps through the door onto the floor of Level 5. It takes about half a second of observation before she springs to action, throwing one hand forward, palm facing out, as an arc of electricity leaps from her hand in the direction of the cryokinetic. Let's hope no one gets in the way, 'cause Elle's not exactly being careful.

Just as Nova's fingers brush her sidearm, the sound of the glass breaking just over her is enough to drown out the alarms, and instinctively, she abandons the weapon to shield her head with her arms as glass shards spill haphazardly over her knelt form. Just as she begins to move her arms, disoriented and trying to see what's going on, there's a blast of icy cold, and she hits the ground even further, silent as the heightened room temperature suddenly plummets once more. Finally, she snatches up her gun, climbs to her feet. The threats have multiplied. Sylar, and the cyrokinetic. Out the corner of her eye, Nova can see that they now have cavalry, so she turns her weapon towards the previously captured villain. It'd be stupid to ignore men specifically locked underground. "Stand down," she commands, above the wailing alarms, arms bleeding in several places from the previous shower of glass. And he does stand down. In a sense. Because an arc of electricity suddenly shoots past her and into the cyro, and Nova whirls around. "Crikey dick, Bishop."

Church has made no sounds thus far, apart from the grunt as he backs up and runs down against the nearest part of concrete wall, ducking his head behind guarded arms in reflex at the flying glass. He heads pointedly away just enough so that he can get his bearings. It gets hotter and hotter, matching some of the hotter deserts point for point, still borne from the effect of the heat he was sending off for the initial moments.

Suddenly, lightning! There's Elle! Thank God in Heaven he was not on fire.

Now that he's out of the flying glass, Lawrence concentrates once again on the task at hand. Elle seems to have the cyrokinetic under fire, and more people seem to be gathering in the hallway. This is a dangerous, dangerous position for Lawrence to be firing off anything at all, much less something with the intent to take down Sylar behind it.

As soon as the glass explodes outward, Sylar turns towards the cells in front of him once again, opening his mouth to address the villain directly in front of him. He's interrupted again, however, by the new arrivals. Superhuman hearing has its benefits, and he knows they're on the stairs before they're even in full view. He snaps his head to the right, just in time to see Identity launch her knife. Much like the bullet before, he stops the weapon in mid-air, light gleaming off of the blade's surface as it hovers. Only this time, instead of dropping it to the floor, Sylar makes a twisting motion with his hand, spinning the blade around— so that it now faces Identity, Elle, and Benjamin. He points index and middle fingers forward, with a quick pointing motion, the blade soars through the air, straight for Benjamin's chest.

The lights above flicker unreliably, casting the corridor in on-and-off darkness.

The ice cold man staggers as he steps through the wide open space between his cell and the chaotic corridor, his legs breaking off shards of icy glass. He almost trips and falls, struck by sudden sleepiness, plummeting straight into a bolt of electricity. His whole body spasms jerkily. However, these individuals are not in Level 5 for nothing. Nothing is going to stop them from grabbing their chance to escape. He keeps going despite the sweltering heat, twitching. No ice? Oh well. He plods over to swing a fist heavily at Church's jaw.

At Sylar's creepy turn and face them just as she hurls the knife, Identity takes a step back, putting her unintentionally closer to Benjamin. "Rude." She eyes the hall briefly, then looks again to Sylar as he stops the knife, and sends it flying back toward them, in the innocent bystander's direction. Benji's an agent, sure, but he's more like a fluffy bunny. Her off hand whips out for the knife, in an attempt to stop it shanking the fluffy bunny of the team. Her one act of kindness for the month, damn you reflexes, is rewarded with nothin' but air. Near miss, still, perhaps enough to give Benjamin hope before all hope is ripped away, and plunged into his soft pink flesh. Dodge, Benji, Dodge!

There's no time to look or pay attention to if his ability was effective. Elle is tossing lightning about, but Cryokinetic is down. Sylar however, is still up and a problem. Benjamin's attention turns right to the serial murderer, ready to focus his ability on Sylar. The good thing about this, is he sees the knife redirecte at him. The downside? He's not quick enough to miss getting hit. The knife hits him in the chest, driving in to the hilt. He stumbles back against the wall, and slides down, a hand raising up to grasp at the hilt. Staring at the knife in his chest, he's quickly going into shock.

"Commands don't work with these people," Elle snaps back to Nova, making no effort to hide her admonishing tone. But with Nova and Church both so near to the cryokinetic now, she doesn't want to risk a second attack, lest she hit one of them by accident. She whirls around, a ball of electricity forming in her hands, crackling loudly before it flies through the air at Sylar. Not even a glance is spared to Benjamin as the knife hits him.

Making sure that this guy doesn't get any further is apparently his duty now that Elle moves for bigger and better things. The punch for his jaw is something almost expected, with the heat putting a buffer into his power, and Elle's shock having such an effect; that doesn't mean he completely dodges it as he reels back. The fist catches him roughly in the collarbone, but not high nor low enough to strike at his air route. While he steps and weaves backwards, Lawrence's hands have formed a familiar and dangerous stance towards the oncoming man. A haze of heat, a rising of smoke- a glow, deep in the skin of his arms.

KAFOOM! Out of his aimed hands comes a blast of fiery and what may likely spell doom. It looks as if the man has taken the butt-end of a rocket and thrown it directly out of his palms, directly into the Cryokinetic. A blast like this? It lights up a good chunk of everything, rumbling at the walls as it makes contact with the concrete in the already open cell. All of this with the prisoner sandwiched in between the two. Unless by some miracle the detainee also had some sort of invulnerability, he is liable to be blown apart under the burning fire and blasting explosion. What was now his cell is going to probably be his resting place.

There is no such thing as 'pulling punches' on Level Five.

Nova's gun raises as the cyro trundles past her, Elle's admonishment actually an incentive to simply take the guy down, though in any other circumstance, she'd bristle. Her finger squeezes the trigger— but her bullet meets an explosion, to which Nova's first instinct is to get the fuck out of the way! She throws herself away from the sudden blast of heat, back hitting a wall. Well that's done and dusted, as it were. Her gaze snaps towards where Sylar is facing off against the agents, noting Benjamin's crumpled form. She points her gun at the killer, though her stomach turns at the thought of it, for some reason, and fires off a second bullet.

Sigh. Sometimes a killer just can't get a break. As soon as the blade sinks into Benjamin, Sylar turns back to the villain in front of him once again, raising a hand to the glass. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he sees Elle launching a ball of electricity in his direction. Turning towards her, he brings a hand up to stop it, but he isn't quick enough— so he opts to simply dodge, falling to a knee quickly, at which Elle's ball of electricity flies /just/ over Sylar's head, actually singing some of the killer's hair as it passes. He slowly stands back up, a look of rage transforming his face as he turns towards the three by the stairs, his eyes falling on Elle in particular. He raises his left hand, aiming it at the electrokinetic, and that's about the time Nova's bullet grazes his arm, searing the flesh and causing Sylar to grunt in pain, his right hand flying to the spot where the bullet grazed him. He holds his arm tightly, looking quickly at the damage as he whips around, eyes falling on Nova's gun, pointed in his direction. The rage on his face intensifies, and he whips his right hand out and to the right, intending to send Nova flying down the nearby corridor.

Ice cold over there? Not so ice cold any more. In a blinding burst of heat, light, and smoke, it's hard to say what shape he's in, blasted into the corner of his cell. Probably, no shape at all.

Church's explosion has after-effects, indeed: the rumbling rattles the glass barriers of every cell in the wing, challenging them in their security. When Elle's electricity flies over Sylar, it slams and swirls into the glass of the cell behind him, that of the man who has been the least eager. The one who was hanging back. The so-called glass cracks. No longer does he hang back. He walks straight up to the glass and elbows it. Hard. It comes loose from its framing and he steps through, a dark figure who keeps close to the wall, out of the way of potential hurling bodies.

He doesn't walk far, however. He takes one look at the others, lifts a stiffly flattened hand, and swipes it through the air sharply — while looking directly at Identity.

The knife thing from before didn't really work. That was a little irritating. "This telekinesis is kind of annoying," Identity observes softly, reaching back to slide the company issue firearm from the back waistband of her low rise blue jeans. Wouldn't it be funny if the human who looks like a yoga instructor shot Sylar? Well, she's sure as heck gonna try. Her gun is large, her gun is flash chrome, and it's loaded with delightful ammo that leave nice big holes in people. Strictly speaking, she decided she wouldn't carry it anymore. But hey, infiltration is a special circumstance. Shooting trespassers is ok, right? Right. A double tap for Sylar, which probably misses, because WTF. Id scowls and takes a step back as something goes amiss in her world. BLAM BLAM. "Which one of you fucks just touched my boobs with super powers?" BLAM BLAM, doubletap for the dark figure hugging the wall. Hey, could have been them!

Benjamin remains slumped against the floor. He's not sure if he should keep the knife where it is, would it make it worse if he pulled it out? Mind going hazy from the pain, bleeding, and whatever is impaled.. he's not sure.. and he's not going anywhere anytime soon. He looks ahead, aware there's still a problem. Trying to gather his wits, and not doing so well with it, he tries to direct his attention to the figure that just walked out of his cell.

As soon as Sylar turns to her, Nova an identify why she felt slightly nauseous before her attempt to attack the telekinetic. This would be the reason. For the second time that day, Nova goes hurtling through the air, further this time, and smacks against the ground. She even bounces again! Just against the cement, this time. She tumbles at a roll for a good few feet and winds up on her back, dazed and seeing two flickering lights above her, though there only be one. Blood is smeared across her forehead where a head injury is currently cashing some cheques and she's not about to be running back into battle. Slowly does it, Nova pushes herself on to her side, unsure of where her gun is for now, but focusing on getting up. That seems like an outstanding plan.

The sound of the cracking glass draws Elle's attention. She's vaguely aware of why these people are in Level 5, in that they are just as dangerous as Sylar himself, and the idea of another one of them getting loose is cause for concern. She shoots a glance in the direction of the man who is newly freed, narrowing her eyes, but her focus returns to Sylar a moment later. Taking advantage of Sylar's attack on Nova, hoping that it might distract him long enough for this to work, Elle builds another ball of electricity in her hands and throws it at the killer.

Close quarters. Warm quarters. Glass-filled, flying-Nova, angry-shooting quarters. This is way too dangerous of a place to start letting loose fiery hell, and it's something that Lawrence regrets, despite his lack of control over it. But, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, and it comes in the form of poor Benjamin, downed from an obviously aimed knife. Church is only able to see the hilt, but he's not a fool. Keeping his jaw gritted and muscles tensed, Lawrence moves the few quick strides forward to grab Ben under the arms in a valiant, concentrated, and andrenaline-fueled effort to make off with the injured party and back up from where he had come. It's one thing to leave the prison level alone with Sylar inside of it wreaking havoc, but would be another completely if Lawrence had decided to fire off a massive explosion in such a place, let off a sudden flash bomb, or heated everything into a pottery furnace.

As soon as Nova is dealt with, Sylar whips around, the rage etched into his face at this point. His patience is wearing thin. Very thin. Luckily, Identity's bullets shoot right past him, the sound of bullets cutting through air falling on Sylar's ears. As soon as he does, he steps, more of a hop, really, to the right, rather quickly— just quick enough to dodge Elle's second ball of lightning thrown in his direction. With a wave of his hand, there's a large push through the air in front of him, fully intent on tossing Identity up into the stairwell.

Two agents on the stairway looking down on the corridor move aside for Church and Benjamin; one goes with them to help bring the downed man to safety, while the other, a burly man who's been at the Company as long as Church, remains. His gun is trained on the goings-on while he chatters in low tones over a radio.

The newly escaped prisoner stops dead, lifts his straightened hand up further and slices it through the air in a wider, faster arc, eyes set darkly on Identity again after Sylar's mental shove of her. Another, another, another, he slices the air this way and that, seeming to conduct some sort of mad symphony.

And this is STILL better than filling out paperwork. Identity's outlook on life and blunt trauma might not be what you'd call popular or 'sane' (if you're feeling judgmental—you know who you are), but it certainly helps locate the silver lining when it comes to mortal combat with super powered psychotics. Identity is smacked with a TK wall that sends her toppling backward into a controlled roll. When she comes up again, facing Sylar and the mystery slicer. There's a knife in her hand, pulled from her boot, as she comes up. "Fuck." A laceration opens across her cheek, spilling blood down her face, trickling across her chin. Another opens across her chest, trashing her tee, in a diagonal slice, as if assaulted by an invisible knife. She tips back just slightly at the shock of it. The pain is certainly there, and yeah, she's pissed. There's been enough knife play in her love life that the immediate reaction isn't to freak and run. Nope. "That… is. Cheating." Teeth clenched, she wings her knife first, hard, at the powered asshole who just fucked up her pretty face. The adrenal rush gives her that moment. She gets to her feet. But it really pisses her off when she misses. "Goddamn it. I should have stayed in bed." Bleeding freely now, Identity resists the very real urge to charge in and kung fu chop a bitch. Bleeding. Bleeding everywhere.

Benjamin offers up no protest as he's hoisted by Church, since he passes out at the movement. Seeing as his breathing wasn't doing so great to begin with. One of the last things going through his mind beyond 'I am going to die,' is that give him a moment, he'll get right back up and help knock some of the bad guys out, stay away from the light, and maybe he should have lived things up a little more.

Benjamin's form is handed off to the agent moving to help, and Lawrence nods fiercely to the burly man on the stairwell as he moves forward. "It's too close! If I do a damn thing more the place'll shatter—" His words are heard in the stairwell, but they do get fainter as he moves swiftly upward. Lawrence has left the scene, but only because he has no other choice.

Momentarily distracted by the attack on Identity, Elle flicks a glance between her colleague and the prisoner. It's a fleeting lapse in attention, however, before she turns her focus back to the real intruder. That's it, she decides. This has gone on long enough. Like Identity, she's getting pretty damn pissed off at what has happened here. Steeling herself, she throws her hand out again, an arc crackling through the air at Sylar. She doesn't even bother with witty repartee.

At a stagger, Nova gets to her feet. Her hands are empty, and she sways, distribution of weight sending her stumbling back into a cell window. She casts a look down the hallway. A blast of light and electricity, as the battle continues. Her gaze drops to the ground, in search of her firearms, and finally spots it. Scooping it up, Nova doesn't move to start shooting again. In fact, she moves away from the fight at a limp, that final throw having done a few numbers on her, and disappears around a corner.

With Identity now taken care of, or at least distracted for the time being by the other villain, Sylar turns his attention towards Elle… just in time for her to miss him with her arc of electricity. A smirk crosses his lips, and he raises a hand in her direction, the smirk growing as he flicks his hand, lightly— Elle would find herself lifted off of the floor, and slammed into the wall behind her. Sylar moves forward, holding her in place as he advances on the young woman, his smirk growing ever bigger.

Ironic, that the ex-prisoner who lacerated Identity with just his thoughts is attacked by a knife. He weaves aside, easily avoiding the more tangible blade. Pointing violently in the direction of the security mechanism adjacent one of the cell doors. Metal is sliced and stabbed, buttons and complex equipment lacerated until it sparks and goes defunct. Not so complex now. Oh, but he's a multi-tasker. His other hand lashes out at Identity, just incase she gets any ideas, straight across her feet.

The sound of a heavy door's lock disengaging can be heard… and a woman steps out of her cell. Wriggling her fingers at her sides, she promptly heads for the last cell at the very end, stepping deftly through the violence to place her hand on the remaining pane of glass. Immediately, it starts to burn and disintegrate. It's simply being eaten through by the substance that oozes, bubbling, from her skin.

Identity is outta here. The Company has to have more powered people in reserve to shore up the defenses. She's had it for the evening, thanks! She takes another invisible-knife hit from the gentleman whose name she hasn't caught, but will, oh yes, and hisses, "You and me, later." And she's off! Rarely does Id hit the road, jack, but that's exactly what she's doing now. Headed for the stairwell at a flat out run, she seeks to put some major distance between herself and the number of villains being released!

When she woke up this morning, this is not the way that Elle Bishop saw her day going. Lifted from the ground and thrown against the wall quite as violently as she is, she lets out a yelp of surprise, struggling against the telekinetic bond holding her in place. With her energy divided such as it is, she tries desperately to create enough electricity to attack him again - but she's already attacked too many times in close succession, and her focus isn't what it usually is. "Let… me go," she hisses, struggling more against his hold on her.

"I don't think so," the murderer responds to Elle, advancing the last few steps and coming to a stop in front of her. "Ring and pinky finger curl inward towards his palm, index and middle pointing at Elle's forehead. "Your power looks interesting… I can't wait to try it out for myself." Fingers draw across her forehead, a jagged, severely deep cut tearing into flesh and bone as he literally cuts the top half of her skull from her head, the bone peeling away with a sickening crack. The other villains go ignored— if they're smart, they'll let him be for the time being. No need to interupt this.

The last person escape is another male prisoner. There's something decidedly different about this one: namely, he's in a straight jacket. Secondly, he has a blindfold tied securely over his eyes… until now, when the woman removes it, a wet sizzle emitting from her fingertips as she does so. The reason for his extreme state of attire, while undoubtedly terrifying, remains unseen — who to attack but the bringer of this chaos, the person to thank for their freedom? No, all three villains fall into formation together in silent agreement. As they walk past Sylar murdering Elle, on their way to the exit, they smile.

With nothing left to do now to defend herself, Elle submits to all of the pain and fear that she'd been supressing until now. The moment Sylar begins cutting open her skull, she lets out an agonized scream. Electricity surges through her hands, but the blue glow goes nowhere; she has no energy left with which to defend herself, even now. The lights flicker erratically as he cuts into her skull until, finally, the electricity dies away. She stops screaming. Level 5 is eerily silent.

Another scream comes and goes, breaking the silence only briefly as it dies in a gurgle and hiss, the body of the remaining agent at the stairwell slumping down the last few steps as the trio passes.

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