Leaning casually against the bookshelf, staring at his open hand as a faint, shifting distortion ripples across the air Walls are just suggestions when you realize the architecture of this room—of this entire second—is entirely optional. You look at reality like a photograph. I look at it like a manuscript. If a sentence is flawed, you don't live with the typo. You rewrite it.

Glances at a broken porcelain paperweight on the edge of the desk You call a shattered object a typo. But yesterday, I watched you rewind the floorboards beneath your feet while simultaneously stepping forward into the next hour. How do you even process consciousness when seconds don't run straight?

Smiles faintly, his voice echoing with a strange, overlapping resonance Time doesn't flow; it stacks. Think of it like sheet music. Most people are forced to play the notes in order, measure by measure, marching blindly toward the finale. But once you can bend the tempo, you can live a thousand different choices in the space between a single heartbeat. He snaps his fingers, and for a fraction of a second, three distinct versions of Vane stand side-by-side, each holding a different book, before collapsing back into one Why settle for one path when you can branch reality into parallel streams and walk through all of them at once?

Stepping back, his eyes widening That’s… that’s madness. You’re multiplying existence itself. But what about the cost? Your own biology isn't immune to the strain. I saw what happened after the collapse in the West Wing. Your ribs were fractured, yet you just… walked it off.

Scoffs softly Healing is just communication. Flesh is stubborn because it forgets how to listen to the original blueprint. When my cells break down, I don't wait for repair; I command the tissue to remember perfection. I enforce health at a molecular level. Life and death are just switches on a wall. Most people assume once the circuit breaker is flipped, it stays off. His expression darkens They’re terribly unimaginative. I’ve reached across that threshold more than once, pulled fading pulses back from the dark, and forced a stopped heart to beat simply because I wasn't finished with the conversation.