Spring loaded

Boot disengaged from the watch redoubt. Daylight flooded the open floorboards. I advanced three paces toward the dark gap beneath the media shelf, sword leveled at eye height. Found salvage: a discarded golden metallic ballpoint pen with a click mechanism. High shine. Superior utility. I drove my sword hilt hard against the rear plunger. Click. Sharp mechanical snap. The internal spring yielded and the brass tip popped forward, locking firmly into the parquet groove. Solid tripwire pillar. A heavy grunt escaped my snout. Position upgraded. Immediate advantage gained.