Noor was surprised by Jane's analysis of his ability, despite her not fully understanding it. He remembered the voice that had spoken to him before—the one that hinted at the true nature of his power. There was a strange similarity between its cryptic words and Jane's reasoning. He lowered his head in thought. Although pieces of his memory had been erased, fragments of knowledge remained intact. It became clear to him that his mind hadn't been wiped randomly. The missing parts were deliberate—surgical. Someone had removed specific memories, likely to strip away his sense of identity and render him easier to manipulate.

Breaking the silence, Noor said with a trace of suspicion, "You know, I once read that the mind can affect the physical world. My father worked in cognitive science. Sometimes, he'd take me to his lab. I saw things that still haunt me."

Jane glanced at him, curious.

"There was a man," Noor continued, "connecting wires between two young men. The first was told to move his hand. When he did, the other man's hand moved too—without his consent. The signals from the first man's brain were rerouted to the second's muscles. It was like watching possession through science."

Jane's eyes widened.

"It evolved," Noor added. "They eventually removed the wires. Just helmets. One man thought—and the other moved. A puppet, controlled by thought. Now imagine they no longer needed helmets or devices. What if they injected nanomachines—microscopic systems inside the body that received neural signals? Someone could move your limbs against your will, control your actions from the inside."

He paused. The thought seemed to unnerve even him.

Jane folded her arms, her tone quiet but firm. "That's terrifying. But from what we've seen, it's not impossible. Maybe... maybe we're already being controlled in some way. Maybe we only think we're acting freely."

She looked away for a moment, remembering. "There were also experiments on telekinesis—machines amplifying brainwaves to move small objects. They said every idea has weight, even if it's infinitesimal. Alone, your thoughts can't shift anything. But imagine a thousand people thinking the same thing, focusing on the same object. That weight could multiply."

She gave a short breath. "There was also a water experiment. A man spoke to water as it froze—positive words, calm thoughts. The crystals formed beautiful, symmetrical patterns. Then he repeated it with hate, anger, and the ice turned ugly, chaotic. Thoughts changed the shape of matter. Our voices, our emotions—they physically affect the world."

Noor was struck. Her words stirred something deep, unlocking his own web of fragmented knowledge.

"If that's the case," he said, "then what about Ivanov? His ability could be linked to nanomachines pulling iron from his blood—or maybe from his surroundings. These machines might coat his skin in iron at will. They must be embedded just beneath the surface, activated by mental commands. That means they're countless—millions of them working in sync."

"And Ares," Noor added, his mind racing. "His ability to camouflage must work the same way. Nanomachines in his skin mimic the environment's colors and textures. But how? Maybe when he touches something, those machines scan its genome, replicate the physical traits, and transmit instructions to the rest. That would explain how he mimics people, too—skin tone, hair, body shape. But maybe it's all surface-level mimicry. The real Ares remains beneath."

He hesitated. "Or maybe they don't just copy appearances. Maybe they alter his genes temporarily. But changing genes... that requires knowledge far beyond us. That part I still doubt."

Jane leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "And what about me?"

Noor looked at her, thoughtful. "Your case... it's harder. I think your ability is tied to time. Not in the classic sense—more like... perception. Maybe your brain processes information at unimaginable speeds. So fast, in fact, that you glimpse the future seconds before it happens. Then your body reacts based on that future knowledge. You're not going back in time—you're outpacing it."

He paused. "That would also explain your fatigue. Your brain consumes too much energy predicting, computing. It ignores your body's needs to maintain that speed. There are AI models that can predict future outcomes based on variables—like a computer knowing exactly how billiard balls will scatter after a strike. It's not magic. Just math. Maybe you're doing something similar, but with reality."

Jane was silent, stunned by how close he had come to the truth.

"As for stopping time," Noor added, "that's... different. That's not just prediction. That's manipulation. It might be that you're creating gaps—pockets where the flow of time is severed. Moments suspended between seconds."

Jane nodded slowly. "It feels like that. Like the world holds its breath, but I'm still moving inside it."

"I don't know how," Noor admitted. "But someone out there does. Whoever gave you this ability understands time on a level we can't begin to grasp."

They sat with the idea for a while, the silence no longer empty, but brimming with possibility.

Then Jane asked, "And the others?"

Together, they began analyzing the abilities of the others—connecting theory to observation, building models in their minds, crafting explanations from science, memory, and logic. One by one, the mysteries seemed to thin—never fully unraveling, but becoming clearer, like shadows lifting in morning light.

Eventually, they stood, their conversation paused but far from over. The road ahead was uncertain, but they now carried something more powerful than weapons or abilities.

They carried understanding.

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