First off, this was written during the hiatus, and is a love letter to Heroes and its fandom. Everyone's in it, some edits have recently been made, to correct spelling, and because I'm currently in love with Redemption and some of the recent plot developments. If you're looking for logical continuations of story, this isn't it, if you're looking for off the wall alternate universe sci-fi jibberish, this is it.

What happens when universes co-exist, where is Caitlin? How does Peter get the scar? Are Jeph Loeb and Jesse Alexander secretly plotting? This story contains all those answers! And more! Hyperbole!

Now, I'll introduce you to the beginnings of this universe. Chapters may be daily, weekly, or every other day, just depends how you lot respond. Fortunately, this thing is finished, just sitting alone on a 4GB flash drive, don't you want to give it company?

It's Just A Retcon, Baby

Several weeks prior to those events we're told is current..

Nathan Petrelli spun the large ring that rested on one of the fingers of his left hand, lost in an incredibly deep amount of thought. This was Nathan Petrelli, before the slitting of the throat that his healing blood daughter couldn't save him from, was that because it had already been done once? Was the cut too deep? Or would it have been logical enough to just lop his head off, and leave it at that?

Anyway, this was Nathan Petrelli, not Nylar, or Sylathan, or any combination of those weird meld names that fangirls create because they somehow have uncovered a way to tap into the fangirl-obsessive reality separate from the fanboy one, and create clever plays on names. Dressed spiffy enough, he had just returned to Washington, and proceeded casually into his office, the board had already been set, specials had been gathered, his daughter was safe, and Peter would be safe, from himself.

Loosening up his bright red tie, Nathan opened the door to his office, his blinds had been parted just enough to create a shadow of dramatic effect that set the stage very well for his tight, isolated office, separate from the world, his family, and who he really was. Night had fallen several hours ago, and Nathan was delighted when his plane finally landed along the strip, business was back to the usual; trapping people in camps and slowly demoralizing them by taking awkward photos and strip searches.

"Straightened things out yet?" a voice from the murky shadows asked.

"Who the hell are you?" Nathan asked, watching his chair swivel around to reveal...

"Gregory Seaton," he answered, the caucasian male leaning forward across the desk, his trimed brown hair dangling along the right of his forehead, and a long grin that didn't hide his enthusiasm.

"I don't know you," Nathan snapped.

"Well, how about Greg Holmes? Or Greg Sanders? Maybe Greg House?" he continued to list off the numerous aliases that he had gone by. Of course 'Gregory Seaton' was just as much of a lie, but that was beside the point. Even if you attempted to trace back any of those several names, you would have a hell of a time uncovering his real name, there was just no way to know. It's a mystery, that way you stay pulled in, it's the equivalent of "Mr Bennet", how great was it to learn his first name at the end of it all?

Standing from the seat, Greg approached Nathan, who had just been fiddling with his ring, and had now slid it onto his right hand's ring finger, and then the two men shook hands, Nathan may have been unprepared, but he was no fool. This introduction could go several ways, and the Senator desired to keep his options available to him.

"Director of the O.W.I." Greg continued.

"Owi?" Nathan repeated, but as a word.

"Organization Without Initials."

Cocking a curious eyebrow, Nathan let it slide, returning focus to the matter of this man's sudden appearance. "Never heard of any of this."

"We try to keep a low profile," Greg revealed.

"Oh," was all Nathan allowed himself to utter.

"I'm here to talk with you about the Assembled Initiative," the Director started, but was startled, much like Nathan, when a sudden shock eclipsed the room, almost causing time itself to stop around them.

"Hiro?" Nathan wondered, bewildered.

This Hiro Nakamura, because it was him, was almost an exact replica of the future-baddass-Hiro that many had been preparing to expect, eagerly, for nearly five years. He even had a soul patch. Hiro's hair was slicked back into a long ponytail, the legendary sword of Takezo Kensei slung along his back.

Lifting himself to his feet, Hiro looked on at both Nathan and Greg. "I'm risking another rift by coming here, but it's necessary."

"Another?" Greg repeated.

"Before we're all dead and gone," Hiro gasped, walking around the office, as if he was expecting to survey something.

"Hiro," Nathan started, carefully approaching the weary time traveler, "what's going on?"

Rubbing his eyes, the traveler's blurred vision finally cleared, focusing, intently, on Nathan Petrelli. "They're going to take our minds, not just his, or yours, but all of us. Our freedom."

He coughed furiously, blood trickling down his nose. Hiro's hand snapped up, snatching Nathan's suit within its grip. "Big Brother has their Creed, but you'll need the Apple."

"What, like an ipod?" Greg questioned, his attitude thinly covering the annoyance of this entire, bloated situation. Hiro Nakamura was then sent into a series of convulsions, finally disappearing, returning time to its normal state.

And with that, the men were left to ponder the strange puzzle, their messenger had left but a vague, ominious warning, its goal, to draw you back in. Turning around, Nathan realized that Greg was also gone, and the sun was rising.

Volume Four- Re..

Volume 4.5- Retcon

I realize that what would have been the next chapter required GREAT editing to make sense with the events in "Redemption". What would have ended up with a conflict between Nathan and Sylar, slowly escalating over the course of a few chapters, needed to be wrapped up quickly, as with "Redemption", Sylar now existed in Matt's mind, so let's take a look at how that wraps up:

2009, several weeks, or months, later... Time is a variable

"You don't have it in you!" Sylar spat, now a simple conjured haunting inside the mind of Matt Parkman, the powerful telepath that destroyed Sylar after he murdered Nathan Petrelli. It was an incredibly long story that took twenty-five chapters to explore, but that's beside the point.

Recently, through a set of escalating circumstances, Sylar had finally managed to gain control of Matt Parkman, and now, through sheer will, Matt had finally taken it back, if only for a moment. Gun in hand, Matt took several deliberate breaths, he knew what he would have to do.

"I've made everything better!" Sylar screamed. "I created you!"

"No!" Matt roared. "I won't let you do this to me, or my family!" Too much had withered away in the telepath's life, and now this hunger, this craving for power and control, the toll had been too much on Matt's mind, there truly was no form of escape, unless he became the very thing he despised, a spitting image of his old man; Maury Parkman.

And perhaps that's what gave Matt the strength that had shocked Sylar, that had put the murderer back in his place. There was an ounce of humanity left in Matt, who Matt really was, but what he had seen, Sylar's murderous rampage, enacted with Matt's body as the tool, all just to get back to Gabriel Gray's body, had put events into prespective.

It was about sacrifice, it was about protecting those you love. Being a Hero. What was Matt's right to condemn a man, any man, to this insane hunger, when the world could finally be rid of it? When Matt became dominant once more, he realized two sad truths, his mind had been warped and demented by Sylar's presence, making it impossible for him to ever retain the life he once had, but the other was just as haunting; to truly kill Sylar, destroy this essence once and for all, Matt would have to take his own life.

But was he truly capable of that? His sight blurring, Matt checked the clip, it was full. But everything was faded, the detective slowly felt his own reality slipping away as Sylar was gaining power again. There wasn't much opportunity, and as Matt raised the gun to his head, pain ripped along his entire body, Sylar taking slight control to bite his tounge right in half, another hand attempting to claw out Parkman's eyes, just to get the gun away.

"You are afraid of dying," Matt spoke calmly. "But so am I."

Narrowing his eyes, Sylar wondered what Matt was attempting, beyond the obvious. "I finally know what Gabriel Gray had to live with. I pity him." Lifting his head, Matt felt the cold press of the gun against his head, and watched Sylar shiver, he truly was afraid.

"I am stronger than you." Pulling the trigger, the gun released the bullet, killing Matthew Parkman, and finally destroying Sylar once and for all. In the end, Matt Parkman, truly was stronger than Sylar, both men had been terrified of death, but Matt was capable of doing something, not just brave, but that could redeem Gabriel Gray, he had stopped the Hunger.

Across the united states, Gabriel Gray dropped into a comatose state on the Carnival grounds, whatever connection the body still had with the fragment had felt the death, and could potentially end Gabriel's life.