“This is a joke,” Sylar said.

“Yeah… it’s hilarious!”

Sylar was absolutely, without a doubt, not hiding it all, to the extreme, pissed off. He was not getting much out of this tournament. Where were the powers he had promised himself? He was working hard. Why was he not reaping the benefits?

After every round, he had the intent of stealing his opponent’s powers. He had stolen the powers of one contestant. One. That wasn’t even the opponent he was very interested in. Besides that, there was always something to stop him. People were trying to interview him for TV specials or sports magazines. His picture was always requested. Sylar hated the media. Sylar hated crowds.

Sylar never got his hands on his first round opponent, Wolverine and his healing abilities. He was just like Claire. But with more. And he slipped away.

And Roku! How could he miss getting power over the elements? No one would be as powerful as him. No one would be like Sylar. And what happened both times he fought Roku? He needed medical attention and was too tired to go after him and be well enough to fight in his next round.

And now this tournament… a crowd had gathered. That horrible demon had gotten a mob of people to gather around and cheer for carnage and death and all those other chores of Sylar’s.

A mob of people. Watching the violence.

And Sylar hated the media. Sylar hated crowds.

Sylar’s head was pounding. He briefly acknowledged the calling of this round beginning. Deadpool was striking… some sort of pose. Not quite a battle pose, not quite a model’s pose…

“This is my ninja pose.”

Sylar clutched his shaking left hand into a fist. He had a small, forced, non-focused smile. “Do you practice being a ninja?”

“Nope!”

Sylar brought his hand up in a flash. Deadpool’s head was split in half. Sylar was panting. “I am not joking here! I am not here to play around with some infantile mutant experiment man! I am sick of facing ninjas and fighting alongside little furry things and little girls! This whole tournament has been a waste of my time!!” He faced the nearest camera and with one hand movement, dismantled it completely. He then turned to Deadpool.

Deadpool had gotten up. It seemed there wasn’t much of a problem. Except the blood on his skull. “You’re a downer! Tuesdays with Morrie much?”

Sylar growled and did the same action as before, watching carefully now and catching his breath as Deadpool was out for approximately two minutes.

Deadpool was up. “SERIOUSLY! That’s a bummer! I bet you kick puppies! Golden retriever ones!” He whipped out two katanas from on his back.

Sylar melted the katanas and then did a few more slices on Deadpool’s torso. These slices weren’t like the neat, even slices Sylar does on people’s skulls to get their coveted superpowers. These slices were ragged and messy.

Sylar turned his attention now to the audience on the second floor. They had nice seats set out for them. They looked like they were waiting for something more. They had been given an appetizer of violence. But they knew Deadpool would be up again and wanted to see what would be next.

“You’re such a lovely crowd today,” Sylar gave them an open-mouthed smile. “Look at you, getting all involved. Some of you are on the edge of your seats.” His dark eyes scanned them. “A lot of you look like potential shoppers, but… I think there are also some friends and family of the contestants. There are some pretty special contestants. I wonder if the same applies to those they hold near and dear…” Still smiling, he lifted up his fingers.

And an arrow shot through his left bicep.

“Don’t ask me where I got this!” Deadpool brandished it like a flag. “I don’t want to relive the memories!”

Sylar yanked it out and grunted in pain. He took a few seconds, then said, “Oh, great. Magic endless satchel. What a wonderful ability for me to have to deal with.” He dropped the bloody arrow. “I only mean in this fight, of course. I’m not going to burden myself with your ridiculous parody powers.”

“Methinks he doth burn me!” Deadpool did actually sound insulted. “Thou art… a total jerk. You could just say you don’t like my powers instead of making me so upset I go all iambic pentameter on your ass like just now. Did you feel it? I totally did it.” He loaded another arrow in his bow. “Iambic…” He shot it. “PENTAMETER!”

Sylar flicked the arrow away. “Your aim is excellent. Too bad it has no use to you here.” He shot a little fireball (again, courtesy of Scorpion) at the bow.

Deadpool tossed it away. “That’s not very environmental!” He decided now on a closer range physical attack, charging Sylar and producing another katana.

Sylar used his powers to deflect the sword (and Deadpool himself). “Not happening!” Sylar then turned to face the crowd. He sliced down one of the columns holding up the second story. Immediately it began to tilt and crumble. A few people shrieked. Sylar took down three more columns. Part of the second story went crashing through some stores, as did a few people. Two more columns later, many people were precariously balanced on a tilted end of the floor, dangling over. Some just fell (oh the poor uncoordinated beings!). Sylar laughed shakily. “It looks like I’ve got things just the way I want them. It’s simply too bad I’ll have to go through every single head to see who can make up for what I’ve missed so far! What a waste of my time! And your life!”

“Hey!” Death by Chocolate had made it no problem to the first floor. “This will be bad publicity. Which does exist, by the way.”

Sylar was going to say something prophetic and clever in response, but was tackled by Deadpool. He stumbled over and the people almost did too. Sylar caught them at the last minute with one hand and with the other hand, pulled back, and gave Deadpool a telekinetic pulse sending him flying through part of the mall (and through at least six stores).

Death by Chocolate shook his impossibly chocolate head. “This will be so bad if my first round of shoppers die by the hands of their entertainment! An you please not do this?”

“What’ll I get if I do?” Sylar said pointedly.

“What do you want?”

“An unspecified amount of time… no… an extra round. All to myself. With my choice of opponents.”

Death by Chocolate grinned, thinking about how that sounded coincidentally like it could work into his chaos round. “I’ll give you a round’s worth of the whole mall with every contestant we have. How does that sound?”

“Like fun.”

“Goooood. But you still need to win.”

“STEREOTYPICAL JAPANESE WORD!” Deadpool had three different stereotypical Japanese weapons (including ninja stars! Flashy!) in both of his hands.

Sylar used one hand to shove the people back up (more shrieking) and the other to pop off the top of Deadpool’s recently healed skull. Deadpool fell and went skidding past him a few feet, leaving a snail-like red trail.

“I win,” Sylar declared.

Death by Chocolate clapped. No one else did.

“You won’t be out long, so I’ll take care of this now,” Sylar bent down over the brain, smiling once again. “You only live once…”