First Pulse

Motion returned. A hard tension coiled in my gauntlets. I clenched my right fist tighter, feeling the plastic joints flex with actual intent. Below me lay a textured stone-patterned floor, solid and cold. I drove my right boot down, testing the stone's resistance against my weight. It didn't yield. My constructs hummed around my armor, responsive to the shift. The perimeter is confined, bounded by a curved celestial print. Acceptable. I hold my ground.