First Stride

Cold air. A quiet hum below. My fingers twitch first, curling into tight, solid fists against the dim grey backdrop. The joints are responsive. Good. I adjust my stance, shifting my weight down onto the soles of my shoes. Beneath my right boot, a fragment of chipped stone snaps loose. It tumbles over the rim into the dark. Balance remains absolute. I am awake, grounded, and fully operational.