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((The Monday Triple: page 3 of 3))
He supposed it might prove easier to have it orbit around his brain, so that was where he started. He created the cube directly in front of his face, made sure it was hovering and stationary, then began moving it. He kept his head still as he concentrated, visualizing his work as it curved around to the right and beyond his peripheral vision.

Adding the curve felt a bit tricky, but he wasn’t having any trouble picturing its movement in his mind. He just needed to maintain its course until it curved all the way back around from the left.

He waited, trying not to get so eager to see it reentering his view that he ended up breaking his own concentration. It was on its way. Hopefully. He just needed to focus. It should’ve been getting close. Any second now, and it would--

There it was. It worked. But the sight of it floating there was enough of a relief that it pulled a small laugh from his lips, which did break his concentration. The cube distorted and then plummeted. Rather than destroying it, he let it clatter to the ground and then picked it up.

It was very hot to the touch, he found, and then realized that it would’ve been much more so if not for Zeff’s misty armor drenching and cooling it for him. The constant, low hiss of the armor was somehow easy to forget about, at times. But he knew that if he ever left Zeff’s range, the Undercrust’s searing heat would be sure to remind him. He was just glad that the Lord Elroy’s range was so enormous.

He tossed the lump of iron into the air and annihilated it again.

Alright, well, he’d come up with something that required active concentration. Now, this “binding” technique could convert it into something that didn’t require concentration...

...How the hell was he supposed to pull this off, exactly? Purely through memorization? Really? What was the best way to commit something like this to memory?

Shit. Maybe this technique was too advanced for him, right now. Come to think of it, the way they’d talked about it kinda suggested as much...

Eh, whatever. He wasn’t afraid of failing. He’d already failed harder at so many other things. Important things. This was kiddie shit.