They moved deeper into the island.
After several turns through narrow paths and reinforced corridors, they crossed a bridge made entirely of suspended metal—held together by Magneto's power alone—before entering the heart of the facility.
The lab itself was carved into the mountain.
At its center stood a machine that looked like it belonged in a cutting-edge research facility—sleek, metallic, and humming faintly with restrained energy.
Noah studied it with interest. "So this is your mutation device."
Magneto's expression was grim. "If what you said is true… then this may be nothing more than a failed prototype."
"No need to write it off yet," Noah replied casually. "If it's flawed, then improve it. That's how progress works."
Before Magneto could respond, the doors behind them slid open.
Mystique entered, pushing a wheelchair.
Strapped tightly into it was a man in a suit—middle-aged, terrified, and very aware of where he was.
A U.S. senator.
He had been one of the loudest voices pushing for mutant registration, openly hostile toward their kind. Now, he was here.
Behind Mystique came Sabretooth and Toad. The moment Sabretooth spotted Noah, his expression darkened, but he said nothing—just stepped aside.
"What are you going to do to me?" the senator demanded, panic creeping into his voice.
"Just a simple experiment," Magneto said calmly, then glanced at Noah. "Stand beside him. You'll go through it together."
Noah nodded and walked over.
Rogue watched anxiously as he took his place next to the restrained man.
The senator looked at him, recognition dawning. "Wait—you… you're that guy from the news. You're a mutant too?"
"Not yet," Noah said. "Give it a minute."
He didn't bother explaining further.
Whether the man lived or died wasn't his concern.
Magneto stepped onto the platform and placed his hands on the controls.
The machine came to life.
A low hum filled the chamber as an unseen force began pulling at Magneto's power—drawing it out of him like energy siphoned into a circuit.
Within seconds, strain showed on his face.
The outer ring of the device began to spin, faster and faster, until it blurred.
Then came the light.
A soft white glow expanded outward, growing into a sphere that swallowed the entire room—walls, ceiling, everyone inside.
For the mutants present, it meant nothing.
But for the two humans inside the field—
It was different.
Noah felt it immediately.
Every cell in his body seemed to vibrate, as if something buried deep within his DNA was being forced awake.
The same thing was happening to the senator, though far less gracefully.
Noah kept his composure, observing the sensation with quiet focus.
So this is what it feels like.
It wasn't pain, exactly. More like pressure—like something trying to break through.
As the light pulsed around him, a faint awareness surfaced in his mind.
His body was changing.
Slowly, steadily.
It would take time.
Minutes passed.
Then the light began to shrink, collapsing back into the machine before vanishing completely.
The hum died down.
Silence returned.
Rogue rushed forward immediately. "Are you okay?"
Noah rolled his shoulders slightly. "I'm fine. Honestly, I barely felt anything. Might take a few hours before anything actually shows up."
"That's normal," Magneto said, stepping down from the platform. His voice was weaker now, his breathing heavier. "The machine only triggers the process. The real change takes time."
Later, Noah and Rogue were given a room within the base.
It wasn't luxurious, but it was clean enough.
Noah sat down cross-legged on the floor.
With nothing else to do while waiting, he focused inward—steadily regulating his breathing, letting his body settle.
Rogue watched from the side, curiosity written all over her face.
At first, nothing seemed unusual.
Then the air shifted.
A faint current began to circulate around him, subtle but noticeable. A soft, almost ethereal glow flickered along his skin—like heat distortion, barely visible, but undeniably there.
Rogue leaned forward slightly. "What… is that?"
Noah didn't answer.
He was listening.
Inside his body, something moved—energy flowing through him in steady currents, like a river finding its path. The sensation was controlled, deliberate.
Time passed.
Two hours slipped by.
When Noah finally opened his eyes, there was a clarity in them that hadn't been there before.
Rogue immediately spoke up. "What were you doing just now? Was that your mutation?"
"No," Noah said, standing up slowly. "That's something anyone can learn with enough effort."
He paused.
Then focused inward again.
The change had finished.
He could feel it now—clear, defined.
A new ability.
Phasing.
The moment he recognized it, something else followed.
Pain.
Sharp and sudden.
A thin tear appeared along his forearm—skin splitting open without warning, exposing muscle beneath.
Rogue gasped. "Your arm—!"
Noah frowned slightly, studying it.
It wasn't just a cut.
A tiny portion of his arm… was missing.
Not sliced. Not crushed.
Gone.
As if it had been erased.
"So this is the backlash," he muttered.
Despite the damage, his body was already responding. The wound began to close almost immediately, tissue knitting itself back together at a visible pace.
"It's fine," he said calmly. "Just a side effect."
Within minutes, the injury would be gone.
Still, the phenomenon was clear.
His ability wasn't stable yet.
Noah raised his hand, focusing.
How does it work?
He followed the instinct that came with the power.
A thought.
A shift.
His arm… disappeared.
Not visually—but physically.
It was still there, but no longer interacting with the world in the usual way.
Noah reached out toward Rogue.
She flinched instinctively—
But his hand passed straight through her sleeve without touching it.
Rogue froze.
Noah's eyes lit up slightly.
"Yeah," he said under his breath. "I get it now."