---
John collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving. He stared up at the sky through the shifting canopy, letting the warmth of the sun mix with the ache of overworked mana veins.
"You are the worst motivational coach in history," he muttered.
"Wrong. I am the best. I motivate you with fear, shame, and the occasional snack," Fizz said proudly. He patted John's cheek with a tiny paw. "Speaking of snacks… I ate yours."
John opened one eye. "Figures."
The clearing bore evidence of his effort. Leaves and twigs had been pulled into miniature voids. Logs were scarred with strange, clean holes. Even a rock had a chunk missing, as though a bite had been taken from it by some invisible predator.
John sat up slowly, summoning one last black hole. It appeared instantly, stable and obedient. He moved it in a clean line forward and then pulled it back toward his hand. The orb hovered perfectly, silent and ominous.
