He nods mutely. "Maybe two," he adds a moment later. "Maybe three." He looks at his hands. They glow orange, and black smoke swirls from his elbows, down to his palms, growing thicker as it goes.

He closes his hands into fists: the glow grows brighter and the smoke thicker. Then he looks away and drops his hands, and it all stops, dissipating around him.

"I don't know what to do," he finally says.