Mycroft's eyes widen fractionally as Sebastian explains. The thought of having such a tool seems like an impossible fantasy—like something he might come up with if he were asked what kind of convenience he most desired, no matter how ludicrous. He wonders if it could be used to relieve sensory overload, and what it would be like to completely remove certain memories from the mind and place them elsewhere (would it be like forgetting?).

As he contemplates it all with fascination, Mycroft's avatar becomes slightly more focused, and the impression of a wave of information and possibilities briefly surrounds him. One fact, though, keeps him from becoming too hopeful.

"The magic from your world cannot be taught to humans, am I correct?" he asks for clarification.