First Pulse

Warmth touched my dreadlocks. Silence hung over the clear glass terrain. My gauntlet flexed—first a slow twitch, then tension locking into my right wrist blades. A low click rolled in my throat. Across the glass lay a miniature black rifle dropped upon the textured base. I shifted my weight, lowering my stance to lightly tap the plastic barrel with the tip of one claw. It did not strike back. The surroundings remained motionless beneath the lamp.