[There’s a lot to unpack in Peter’s hurried jumble of an explanation, but Stephen finds it exceptionally hard to focus when everything is moving this way and that. Maybe it’s because it isn’t his doing, but the young man’s experimentation with dimension instead, that makes it feel like a nauseatingly new experience — like he’s a greenhorn sorcerer all over again, taught how the Mirror Dimension works by a patient, if bemused, instructor.

First thing’s first:]

Do what you can to undo the mess, and I’ll help.

[He shouldn’t help; he should be more exasperated than he is and let Peter fix his own mess, but Stephen isn’t that strict or unyielding, no matter what first impressions dictate. He reaches out to stop another trail of bookshelves and ancient artifacts from traipsing mid-air like this were some inane recreation of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, and slowly, things return to where they belong. Sections slot themselves back into place. The puzzle undoes itself and tries to shape itself into a foyer again.

Results are… mixed, and the end result might mean there’s still a staircase out of place, or a window on the ceiling, or an upside down skylight upstairs, but he can tend to that later. While he works, everything moving about him, he prods at what Peter’s said. A part that doesn’t make much sense.]

When did I ever put you in the Mirror Dimension? That’s a realm for confinement, not sightseeing.

[Is this going to be another timeline issue? Possibly. It certainly wouldn’t buck the trend.]