The boy holds out his hand, palm-up and cupped like he expects the wisdom of the Planet to pour into it like the cereal he likes. "Not quite," Gast instructs, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. "Turn your hand over, so your palm faces the target - that's the way. Now, let the power flow through you."

Project Sephiroth frowns at nothing. A moment later, the little pile of scrap papers Gast had gathered together bursts into flames, and Sephiroth yelps and clings to Gast's sleeve. "Well done," Gast exclaims, though he lets Sephiroth cling, "look, you did it!" Sephiroth looks, and his alarm turns slowly to wonder and then laughter.