Arthur felt his now many dozens of abilties rippling beneath his skin, trapped within the prison of his body because of the force that was being used to dampen him. But it wasn't lasting long. Already, he could practically feel the sparks of lightning dancing along his fingertips, the near-silence turning into unhearable echoes of thought and the weather outside becoming more apparent- more aware. He was regaining them quicker than he had lost them, whoever was doing this was no Haitian.

"It's too late. Admirable attempt, but a farce nonetheless." He answered to Elle's desperate cries for the woman holding the gun to end Arthur's life.

"Both of my sons, turning against me. Against the idea of the pure world, the warless, united world. I'm ashamed that my blood runs in your veins. Both of you." Arthur scolded, staring intently at each of them in turn. "Not only this, but you seem to find it impossible to do it properly. You are both resourceful, that much is apparent. You've mobilised allies quickly. But there's one trick you still don't seem to be able to pull, isn't there? For all your allies, you can't secure success."

A lone hand rose up from Arthur's side, the palm facing the group. He began to focus all the rising energies he could feel in his body towards his hands- he was going to take that gun. Arthur Petrelli was going to steal that woman's gun, and throw it out of the broken wall of windows, to the ground below. With his powers able, he would be able to snap the necks of every person standing at his over-crowded office door.

He never had liked visitors.