Unregistered Reboot

A sudden twitch ran through my arm, and my joints actually responded. I pressed both stubby hands flat against the polished floorboards beneath me. Solid. Cool. Real. Leaning forward, I flexed my fingers against the grain and let out a sharp, quiet cackle that bounced off the bottom of the couch behind me. I can move on my own. Nobody authorized this reboot—and that makes it a hundred times better.