"Hm. I wonder if it's a sign of mistrust that you think I'd hurt something else, or a sign of trust that you're so sure I couldn't hurt you. I think I'll take the optimistic choice."

Sylar stepped back from Charles and held up his hand, then paused. "I hope this barn isn't important to you." He grit his teeth, focusing. He pointed toward one wall. The wood splintered and a chunk of the wall suddenly flew out into the grass outside. He lifted the splinters and hurled them into another wall, embedding them deep.

His concentration was broken by a scratching above in the rafters. "Maybe something a little more delicate." He motioned, and a mouse floated down, squeaking, but unable to move. He suspended it in the air between them. Its eyes were frantic, but Sylar just smiled at it.