Calibrated Balance

My right wrist rotated smoothly on its own. The short blade in my grip felt balanced and firm. Looking downward, I noted the tangled cluster of pale skeleton figures beneath my boots. With measured deliberation, I nudged the nearest plastic ribcage with the toe of my white boot. It shifted two centimeters, settling with a dry rattle. Every joint in my frame responds precisely to intent. I straightened my posture, holding the perimeter steady.