If the sensation of unmaking the rock was like a kiss, then this felt like someone was nibbling his ear.
In the moment before the pain set in, destroying the rock was exhilarating. The influx of power from unmaking something was intoxicating.
Since that moment, he could feel something similar happening over and over but further away, like ripples reaching him at the edge of a pond. Again and again something was washing him with power, but small, subtle and incremental. Unlike the power from the rock, this came with no guilt.
He wondered what it was.
"Jones,“ replied his companion to his unspoken question.
His heart froze at the mention of the name.
“‘Jones’ what?” asked Rex, dreading the answer.
"Jones has learned to unmake,“ responded his companion, and Rex wanted to throw up.
The sensation he was feeling had been there since he was vapourised, but he’d only noticed it since his experience with the rock.
“And he’s been doing it all this time?!”