Talia stood in the dim mine, her glowing robes lighting up the gray walls like a neon sign. She pulled her cloak tighter, trying to hide the symbols. Not that it mattered much. The villagers had started calling her “Sparkles” after her earlier, uh, incidents.

Zane leaned against the wall, his pickaxe dangling lazily from one hand. “Mining’s all about being smart. You give the rock a little tap, lean back, and complain a bit. Boom, ore eventually shows up.”

Talia blinked. “That’s... not how mining works.”

Zane shrugged and gave the rock a gentle tap like he was knocking on a door. “Trust me, Sparkles. I’m basically an expert.”

Talia tilted her head, watching him. This was Zane. The Shield. The guy who had stopped dragons with nothing but magic barriers. There had to be more to his laziness.

Talia squinted. What if... what if that isn’t even a real pickaxe? What if it’s enchanted to do something else?

Zane swung again, sighing. “Look at this rock. Stubborn, right? But you don’t fight it. You let it feel your disappointment. Rocks hate being disappointed.”

Talia stared at him, confused. “Are you mining or... giving a rock therapy?”

“It’s a vibe thing,” Zane said, nodding like he was a genius. “Besides, why work hard when you can just coast? You wouldn’t get it. You’re probably one of those try-hards, aren’t you?”

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Talia puffed her cheeks out, annoyed. “I am not a try-hard!” She snatched the pickaxe from him. “I’ll show you! Mining is easy.”

“Go ahead, Sparkles.” Zane gestured at the rock wall like he was presenting a game show prize. “Remember, it’s not about getting results. It’s about complaining while looking busy.”

Talia ignored him. She swung the pickaxe over her head and brought it down. Hard. The clang echoed up her arms, leaving them buzzing.

Nothing happened.

“Not bad,” Zane said, inspecting his nails. “You’ll get there. Or not. Who’s judging?”

“I am perfectly capable!” Talia swung again. A pulse of magic flickered from her fingers. The pickaxe hit. Crack. A chunk of wall fell into a neat pile of ore.

Zane froze, his eyebrows shooting up. “Whoa. That’s... efficient. Maybe a little too efficient? What are you, some kind of mining genius?”

Talia blushed. “I-I just hit the right spot! No big deal!”

“Right,” Zane said, rubbing his chin. “Totally normal. Not like you’re trying too hard or anything.”

“It was just an ordinary swing!” Talia huffed, shoving the pickaxe back into his hands. “You’re just bad at this!”

“Bad?” Zane pretended to be offended. “I’m not bad. I’m strategically mediocre. There’s a difference.”

“Strategically mediocre?” Talia repeated, her voice full of disbelief.

“Yup.” Zane leaned back against the wall, grinning. “That’s how you coast. But hey, if you want to tire yourself out, be my guest. I’ll just... supervise.”

Talia crossed her arms, fuming at his smug expression. Was this some sort of trick? Maybe he wanted her to think he was useless so she would ignore him. Then he would be free to do whatever he was really planning. Classic Zane. He was playing a whole strategy game while she was just trying to keep up.

“Sparkles,” Zane said, cutting into her thoughts. “Maybe try not to overthink it, yeah?”

With an annoyed groan, Talia spun around and stomped out of the mine.

Zane watched her leave, shaking his head. “Weirdest miner I’ve ever met. Probably going home to polish her glowing pickaxe collection.”