The air in the control room crackled, not just with temporal energy, but with a palpable sense of unease. Dust motes danced in the fractured light filtering through the grimy windows of the abandoned factory – the makeshift headquarters Anya had secured for them after their daring raid on Chronos Dynamics. Ethan stood hunched over a series of cobbled-together monitors, his face illuminated by the flickering screens. Anya hovered nearby, her brow furrowed with concern.