"My particular brand of magic, no. You're born with the capability of developing it." Oliver turns the phone over in hand, opens up the map function on it and closes his eyes for a moment. Breathes in deep through his mouth, lets it out through his nose. When his eyes open, his pupils are blown, eyes more black than brown. He stands up, holds the phone back out.

It's mapping to a location marked with a blue arrow - wherever Chaos Gate's currently hiding out at.

"If it didn't have GPS, it'd work on it's own after I finished the compass. Magic sticks hard to metals, it's near impossible to work it out. I make it, but it doesn't need me after it's done. Same as this thing, which--I'm done with."