The world is merely a shadow of itself. Mankind has evolved in the ways Dr. Chandra Suresh had predicted in his now forgotten book- they have developed countless powers and have become more advanced than even he had ever dreamed to imagine. Those with the genetic code are of the elite, of the wealthy. It has only been five years since the cheerleader proclaimed to the world that there were special people living among the rest. The newscast brought more unique individuals out into the public's eye, no longer afraid. The world embraced the knowledge and learned everything that they could about the genetic code mapped out by Dr. Suresh and the further research made by his son's manuscript. It has been four years since they continued to evolve even more and take control of everything- the government, the livelihood of the people and their futures.

Those who do not have the genetic code enriched in their blood are forced into a life that they would have never dreamed of only a few years ago. They serve; they are the slaves to the ones they once feared. Most ran, but eventually they were caught and brought in. It is the mission of Homeland Security, lead by Special Agent Matt Parkman, to find and place all without the marker into a life of servitude or if they chose, death.

"Please," Mohinder pleads as he gazes into the cold eyes that had once been so warm to him. Once he had shared his home with this man, with their adoptive daughter Molly, but that time feels so long ago- almost as if it had never happened. "Mathew-" Mohinder hisses as he slaps the cool metal around his wrist, the betrayal running deeper then he could imagine.

"Don't," he cuts, glancing back at his team. "You know the laws, Suresh. You can't hide forever."

Mohinder exhales, raising his chin ever so slightly. "My father's research-" he begins to protest as another agent back hands him and he's forced to his knees, the rough terrain cutting deep. He cries out in pain as yet another one takes the branding iron and marks his skin.

Special Agent Parkman only turns away as Mohinder passes out into the darkness that seeks to overcome him.

~

Sylar closes his eyes, exhaling slowly as he extends his hearing and he closely listens to the inhale of each breathe, the beat of every heart. He growls, his nails biting into his palms as he comes up empty. He's not here. "Mohinder," he sighs as he runs his hand over his face.

It has been days since the listing of the new captives crossed his desk. His heart aching as he had recognized the first name on the list, Mohinder Suresh. He had immediately barged into the President's office, demanding to know where they had sent him.

Nathan had only returned the withering glare as he stood up from his chair. "He's no longer your concern." He pauses, glancing over at him. "And as the Vice President it would be beneficial if you stopped this ridiculous search. He is weak, human, he is no longer part of the bigger plan."

"The bigger plan," Sylar repeats, scowling. "Mohinder-"

"Don't let some foolish infatuation take-"

"God damnit, Nathan." He gasps, his anger rising to a dangerous peak. "Don't you dare lecture me on foolish whims of the heart when we both know that you've taken your brother to your bed."

Nathan bristles, a rare flicker of emotion passing briefly over his face. "He's at one of the camps, being auctioned off as we speak."

Sylar pales, wanting more than anything to strangle the smug man before him. He has the power to do so, but they made a deal. And if anything he is a man of his word. Sylar spins on his heels and he's running down the hallway, he has to get- he has to find him.

And yet he still hasn't, even after visiting three slave camps. He walks through the fourth, and he pauses as he hears what he's been waiting for. In an instant he knows that Mohinder is near, and smiles.

~

Mohinder groans, turning ever so slightly on the dirty mat. He licks his dry lips, wanting more than anything for something to drink, to have something cool pass through his parched lips.

"Mohinder."

He stills, his eyes fluttering close. He knows that voice, it haunts him, mesmerizes him. Mohinder's heart aches as he lifts his gaze to verify his hunch. "Sylar."

"How much?" Sylar demands as he turns to the man that Mohinder hasn't seen since he arrived two days ago.

The man grins, knowing there is more to be had for the slave that has piqued the interest of the Vice President. "Auction block, tonight."

"No," Mohinder gasps, knowing that it would happen sooner or later, but he would rather die than to be put through the further humiliation of being put up for auction.

"Shut up." The man growls as he shoots him a blast of fire that singes the hair on his arm and he yelps, jumping back, stumbling over his feet as he nurses his arm.

"I don't think so," Sylar hisses as he throws the man back, using his telekinesis to pinch the carotid artery and the man crumbles without a fight. "Mohinder," he breathes as he turns his attention to him. He opens the padlock with a flick of his wrist and pulls Mohinder to his feet, checking him over for any other injury.

"I'm fine." Mohinder states as he leans against the man that he has considered his enemy- and yet he can't help but feel the comfort he is offering.

"Mohinder," he repeats, his breath ghosting over his ear and he can't help but grin as Mohinder shivers in response, his heart picking up in rate.

"Save me," Mohinder exhales as Sylar wraps his arms around him and holds him close, teleporting them away to safety.

The End