[It is pushing himself, to maintain it, but Kratos keeps doggedly on until Yuan gives that gentle order. The authority in his tone is a sort Kratos has never heard from Yuan before, but it's direction; and Kratos sorely needs direction right now. He obeys, hardly with a thought.

[Breathing. Yes. He has been, despite the fact it's caught while he's focussed on shifting his mana. Kratos breathes a few times, testing the notion of counting; and finds it helps. It seems to lull himself into a false sense of security, so that when he pushes ever so gently, the anxiousness doesn't kick in until after.

[For a moment, the next attempt nearly forms the shape of a glove; then it breaks apart as the fear bites. Kratos exhales, and tries again, and again, and again, inching toward a complete glove-shaped illusion of his armour.

[It's excruciatingly slow. It shouldn't be this slow, take this much effort, to do something so simple. Frustration rises and leaks into Kratos's mental presence, though he isn't aware of it; his breathing remains steady but the emotion bleeds into his control, shoves a little too hard, and his latest attempt breaks into sparks of lightning hard enough to reach for the pillows on which they're seated.]