A Silent Standoff

Consciousness arrived without sound. My eyes stirred beneath the visor, and with a measured breath, I tested my grip upon the golden hilt. It responded. Before me on the timber floor stood a leaning figure in a white hat, poised in an impossible, motionless angle. I did not draw. Instead, I carefully shifted my stance atop my base and tapped the tip of my blade lightly against the hard wood between us. The wood gave a hollow click. The tilted challenger remained entirely still, silent in its vigil. I held my guard, observing.