A Firm Foothold

Sensory calibration began in my joints. I shifted weight onto my left heel, testing the friction of the dark wooden ledge beneath me. It held firm. I slowly clenched the clawed digits of my right hand, feeling each mechanical pivot engage smoothly. Then, I lowered my arm and lightly tapped the polished wood with the tip of my translucent wrist blade. A crisp, resonant rap echoed in the quiet room. My balance was stable, and my frame responded with precise control.