And what he's about to see is a room full of gurneys topped with dead bodies in body bags. "The first attacks were three days ago. All we know is their hearts stopped," says Broyles. They don't know what happened to them, what Translucent Man does to affect their skin this way, what he gets out of it. They can't find a common link between the victims: "Different ages, races, blood types, some had high cholesterol, some didn't," says Broyles. Given that they're grasping at such straws as cholesterol levels, Lee tells them that Danzig had Crohn's disease and took iron pills for it. Olivia exchanges a look with Broyles, who strides out without a word, leaving Lee to stare at his partner's dead body and haltingly blather on about him being like family, and how Danzig believed everything happened for a reason. "I'm having a hard time believing that there's a reason for this," says Lee. Look, if your partner and millions of others are going to subscribe that trite "everything happens for a reason" philosophy, the least you can do is accept that sometimes the reasons are shitty, and the thirty-odd corpses in this room can attest to that.
The Observer's going shopping, with a little wire basket and everything, in some rinky-dink second-hand electronics components store. If the Observers ever showed attention, I'd imagine shopping in a place like this would be like the "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" Staples ads with parents shopping for school supplies. He finds some sort of switch component atop a coiled cord, and he puts his finger near it, which zaps it with a little spark of electricity, and he removes the switch from whatever doohickey it's attached to. The shop owner comes strolling up, having found the electron gun from a '58 color RCA that the Observer was looking for. "I had to take apart the cathode ray tube to get to it, so I'm gonna have to charge you full-price for the TV," he says, and can I just ask what "full price" for a 53-year-old behemoth television set would be today? Five dollars? There a big demand for those? The Observer says he wants the switch too, and the owner looks it over as well as the other pieces of equipment he's picking up, and asks what he needs all this stuff for. The Observer cocks his head. "I need to erase someone from time," he says, because why not risk having the shop owner call the police on the freaky guy who's buying spare electronic parts and speaking cryptically about obliterating someone?