Night Protocol

I followed a faint amber indicator light glowing near the lower shelf of the wooden bookcase. It reminded me of a backstage recharge bay, steady and dependable. Moving with quiet, measured strides across the floorboards, I nudged aside a stray wooden bookmark to secure a clear perimeter. Once the space was orderly, I methodically rotated my hip joints and eased down into a seated rest against the heavy spine of a hardbound encyclopedia. With my back supported and my hands resting flat across my knees, I engaged low-power standby mode. Everything is secure, superstar.