Take no chances.

Picking up Claire's brain, I disintegrated the rest of her body, before walking to the edge of the plaza where I had hidden my bags.

Stuffing her brain in the bag, I checked holo map on my glove, noticing the new presence noticed by the airborne drone.

Activating the camera, I found a conflicted Nathan staring down at me from above nefore a single tear rolled off of his chiseled cheeks and he began to gain altitude.

Uh oh.

Looks like someone is trying a kamikaze space rod tactic.

Not on my watch.

Turning the cannon to him, I strafed his path, splitting him into fish bait, walking out of range of the blood rain to follow as he dropped out of the sky.

Then, from a distance, I burned his corpse, or the chunks that had made up his corpse at least.

I returned to the Petrelli manor, now intent on finishing the job.

The drone trailed after me, leaving a red blur in it's wake.

Entering the kids room, I looked down upon them, engaging the lasers.

They slept close, hugging each other, just one shot would suffice.

And yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

They were, as much as I hate to admit, innocent. They bear me no ill will. They are no threat.

Even in the show, they were the two characters that were genuinely good, kind and nothing but sweet.

Am I to go against my principles, now that Sylar is dead? Now that I have another four months to prepare for the final confrontation?

I hesitated for a moment, drunk off my victory.

No. I may be cruel and selfish. But if the fight against the clone has taught me anything, it's that I don't want to become a wanton monster.

Those get out of control and end up dead, blinded by their own malice.

I took a deep breath, disengaging the lasers, and walked back out, resolved now.

I have some time yet. I can do this.

Foo!

I exhaled.

Yes. Arthur Petrelli is still comatose.

I don't need to kill them. There is always the future. If need be, I'll just kill them then.

Closing the door, I walked down, planning to kill Angela, when suddenly the lights were flipped on.

"You didn't kill them did you?" Angela Petrelli, stood by the stairs, revolver in hand.

"No." I replied, walking around her to the living room, ignoring the gun in her hand.

"So you do have a heart under that cold visage." She smiled sadly, shaking.

"Don't mistake my principles for a bleeding heart. You might come to regret that." I clarified.

"If you could have forgiven them....then why did you have to kill them both?! My sons! Why only them?!" She cried, silent tears escaping her eyes.

But she didn't raise the gun.

She knew. She just needed me to say it.

"You know, don't you? You were willing to let millions die to Peter, despite knowing full well what came after. You knew and you willingly condemned those people to death. All for the ever illusory greater good.

But in the end all you wanted was power. Your son on the throne of New York, set on the presidential path. Keeping the power you already had, and greedily grabbing at more, not caring if you had to nuke the million or so people living here.

I'm quite the same. I want power. Your sons were in the way." I said, relenting, taking a seat at the dinner table.

She looked at me, hate in her eyes, still she didn't raise the gun.

"It's all my fault." She sobbed, breaking down in tears, clutching the revolver tight.

"I should have stopped them. Years ago, I should have spoken up.

How could it all have gone so wrong?!"

"That's all it ends up being in the end doesn't it? Regrets. Regret for things you did. Regret yet, for those you didn't. That's why I plan to live free, free of regrets. And for that unfortunately, you must die, Angela." I said, pointing the drone at her.

"I would say I'm sorry, but that would be a lie. I may be cruel and selfish, but at least I value freedom, both mine and others. You didn't do either. Not to mention, you even failed to kill your husband!"

"My husband?! He's alive?" She asked startled, and afraid.

"Yeah. He's recovering too, in fact. In four months time, he'll be up and ready. To be frank, that is the real reason I had to kill your sons. Can't let him have their powers. He's already way overpowered." I laughed.

"Nononono.....this ..this is very bad news!" She muttered, shaking.

"What? Are you seriously more afraid o-"

Angela shook, her eyes glazing over.

Bang!

She put the revolver to her head and pulled the trigger, as the shot echoed across town.

My ears rang from the shot, dizziness striking me for a moment.

Fuck!

Bastard put a geas on her.

Fuck!

A chill ran down my spine, sobering me right up.

Principles? Monster?

What was I thinking?

What the hell was I doing underestimating the All For One of this world?

Of course he put a suicide geas on his own wife.

No. The kids need to die. I can't take that chance!

I turned to sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs.

The kids awoken from the sound ran down the steps, as they came upon the bloody scene.

Ever perceptive, Micah put his hands on Molly's eyes immediately, preventing her from seeing the carnage, a she looked at me questioningly.

I put on a scared face, and looked back at him, shaking my head, pointing to her hands.

Micah got the meaning as he sighed in relief.

"We need to get out of here." I emphasized, "Now. Get both of your clothes on."

Micah nodded, getting his coat as I led them out a portal to Nebraska, setting fire to the house, closing the portal behind us.

In th distance, I could see a road leading into town, lights glittering amidst the snowstorm.

Now was the time.

I turned to face the children who were looking at me, expectantly, as the only adult around.

"Look there." I said, pointing at the distant lights, "There's a town there. Let's get ourselves someplace warm and out of the storm before we ask questions, okay?"

Micah nodded understanding, as Molly meekly obeyed, turning their backs to me as they began walking.

No sooner had they taken a step away from me, did I incinerate them.

Looking at their charred corpses, leaning into each other, I felt nothing. As usual.

Just a pit in my stomach and a hole in my cold, dead heart.

I really should listen to myself.

Principles are a weakness in the multiverse. Only the strong survive.

Turning what was left of the kids to ash with another barrage, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Wiping away all traces of the fire, I covered it with snow, and began the long walk to town, alone and sufficiently spooked.

I let out an unhinged chuckle, almost involuntarily.

Take no chances. I muttered, self assuringly.

Take no chances.