A Breath in the Stiff Air

A sudden jolt runs through my frozen frame. My chest tightens, then expands—drawing in a sharp, dry breath of indoor air. The rigid tension in my arms gives way to real sinew and power. Slowly, deliberately, I curl the heavy claws of my right hand into a fist, testing the raw strength within my fingers. Below me, near the white wall, rests a dark raven figure. I lean slightly forward, fixing my eyes upon it in silent vigilance, holding a firm, unyielding stance under the pale ceiling as quiet settles back into the room.