Testing the Perimeter

Stiff joints. Cold plastic under my boots. I flexed my gloved right hand, half expecting it not to move, but the fingers curled just fine. Good enough. I glanced around the white molded terrain and took a short, guarded step forward. Ahead lay a dark rectangular crate resting on a raised ledge. I reached out, tapped the rigid edge with my knuckle to check its weight, and kept my stance low. Quiet ridge. Static figures all around. Looks like I'm running solo on watch tonight.