“It is.” Nothing really was a greater enemy than Time itself. It had been the thing that had brought him his pains to begin with, Time travel to be exact, warping things and disorientating all of history, simply because it was history, and it could. In accordance to the past, the present, the future, they were all the pawns of time’s game, burning and scorning as well as soothing and giving.

Looking back down to the city before them, muttered mostly to himself, “Time shall giveth, Time shall taketh away.” Taking life, giving life, nothing was permanent in it’s perspective. Except for the two of them. Their existence proved that wrong, taunting their actuality in the face of Time. And for that fact, saw fit to have them tortured by the very thing that kept them alive.

He had never been exceedingly good at comforting people, others who needed it. He wasn’t sure how to do it for even himself, let alone Sylar. Taking in a breath and sighing, he made another attempt, “…To pass away peacefully is the best you can ask for.”