It's dark. It's possible to tell this because it's not pitch black. No, there is the occasional flourescent light on- security lights, of course. Nothing seems secure about this place, though. That light keeps blinking off occasionally, for instance, and it looks like one of the glass doors down the hall is shattered onto the floor.
It becomes clear after a little observation that this is an office, of some sort. Wide halls hide rooms with office desks, cabinets and computers. In one other direction, the glass becomes concrete at intervals. A giant number five is spray-painted onto it, in black.
The halls are the sort of quiet that comes from everything being shut down for awhile. Offices on the weekend, maybe even in the middle of the night. It's hard to tell, as the blinds are firmly drawn.
There is a bit of a sound, though- growing louder as if it's getting closer. It's the tick of some large clock. This is not the same as what the City hands out as punishment for being alone, this is different. This doesn't distract, it focuses. It almost seems to be pushing things along in an otherwise dead world. It's comforting, actually, having something to hang onto in a place that's so still.
[ooc: Feel free to have your character enter and interact. This is...uh, a normal dream for Sylar. Enjoy, guys! Oh, and just a warning- touching certain things in this dream will pull up memories.
ETA: I've been sick today, but I'm still slowly working on tags, I promise. <3]
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