Grounding the Line

A fresh barrier confronted me beyond the steel trench: a thick, green municipal junction box anchored directly into the gravel curb. Its metal casing radiated a continuous, low-frequency hum. Detours remain unconsidered. I stepped forward, lowered my center of gravity, and drove my tail firmly into the cracked asphalt seam. Extending both forearms, I pressed my claws flat against the cold, powder-coated steel flank. The casing vibrated with steady mechanical power. The ground shook beneath my footpads, sending heavy resonance surging up into my dorsal plates. I held my stance unyielding. The line is secure.