[kavinsky takes the glass, looks at it. the rounded shape is heavy in his hand. pleasantly so. you could cave a dude's head in with this shit, he's pretty sure. there might be some misunderstanding here, of billy thinking that kavinsky was one of those people, but kavinsky is either not paying attention or doesn't care, preoccupied by the thought of caving sylar's skull in.]

Maybe you should use your magic to turn those fuckers into glass.

[he throws up his gift in the air, and catches it again, a solid thwap of the substance on the thin skin and bones of his hand.] You can unmake people. You could unmake whoever fucking said that.