A Pulse in the Metal

Cold metal underfoot. A deep hum... vibrating up my claws. I freeze. Silence, then my own breath—a low, raspy rattle in the dark. I move. Joints give way, heavy and taut. One step onto the metal grating. A faint click echoes down the corridor. I extend an arm, pressing thick talons against the low black pipe running beneath the lit console. The steel thrums against my skin with quiet, steady pulses. Solid. Awake. I lower my stance near the pillar, watching the glowing passage.