Iron Grip

Stiffness broke. I drew breath through the visor. My palms were held out, cupped and waiting. I curled my gauntleted fingers inward, testing the joints with a low metallic rasp. Down by my boots lay two miniature carved skulls embedded in the base. I lowered one hand, tapping the edge of the nearest skull with a heavy knuckle. Solid stone. I exhaled a slow, low grunt, planted my stance firmly upon the circular plinth, and held steady.