The First Cue

Silence. Absolute stillness. Then—a sharp jolt through the wire of my spine. My boots find weight against the soil. I roll my shoulders; the jacket tightens, gears clicking smoothly into place. I can move. Every joint answers the call. Ahead stands the rough rock wall beside the low hedge. I reach out, digging the tips of my clawed fingers right into the coarse stone. The grit is solid, cold, real. A heavy stomp against the grass shakes off the lingering freeze. No spotlight yet. But the stage is set.