A Firm Grip

Stiffness faded. My fingers tightened around the staff. A low hum ran through my joints. I shifted my weight forward, resting one boot firmly against the dark metal bar. Below, aged paperbacks leaned at uneven angles. Beside me stood silent figures, frozen in place. I tapped the metal ledge once with the blunt end of my weapon. The vibration was solid, balanced, and real. Perimeter secure. I held my post, watching the drop below.