...Virus?

So this was new. Work on a virus, rather than something of some sort of other importance? The List, for one thing. Which was maybe of more importance to Sylar, in general, than to Mohinder. Mohinder's concern stood for scientific reasoning. And for, you know, keeping the people on said list away from Sylar. But anything outside of that... Sylar was mulling the concept over in his head. Random research in other fields? Or still in the same one? And, by proxy, something very very able to take him down?

First thing was first, though, and with the heel of his hand still ground into his eye, well, Mohinder's proposition was-- actually rather tempting. Of course, stinging eyes, nearly to the point of sizzling with chemicals, who wouldn't take that offer? Even if it meant admitting defeat, to some extent. Sylar paused for a few long seconds, telekinetic fingers tightening themselves in that foreboding sort of hold on Mohinder's arm, before he finally released. "Do it," he ground out in a harsh snarl of a voice, blinking his eyes a few more times.

One little fucking thing and he was practically writhing around on the ground like a four-year-old with a skinned knee.