He didn’t expect unimaginable power to mean he’d have to hug rocks.

“Why am I doing this again?” he asked the other, his arms encircling the rock he’d picked at random.

“You must understand the universe before you can shape it," replied his baffling companion.

“And I’ll understand the universe by hugging this rock?”

“No," dismissed the other, “you will begin to understand the rock. Do not think. Do not act. Only feel the object."

Rex tried, he really did. This stupid exercise felt less like unlocking the mysteries of the universe and more like a lesson in humiliation. Maybe that’s all this was, a sort of “letting go of yourself” through doing something stupid.

He was starting to to get a little uncomfortable. The rock was jabbing into his palm, and it was roughing up his arms. The cool mass against his chest felt…

Rex felt it. Not just the surface, but the whole rock. He understood its composition, and could sense its density. He felt the moss growing at its base, the cool sand sucking from below.

Rex started to solidify.