Firm Footing

Rigidity broke. A deep pulse surged through my chest, sudden and commanding. I tightened my right fist, testing the resistance across my knuckles—pure, responsive strength. Stepping forward, the heavy sole of my boot struck the dark plastic deck beneath me with a solid, echoing thud. The surface held firm under my weight. I rolled my shoulders and locked into a balanced, immovable stance. My body answers to my will now. The arena is quiet, but I am standing.