A Firm Foothold

Internal servos hum. My four heavy footpads anchor solidly to the cool ceramic tile. I test my balance, shifting weight with deliberate precision. Nothing yields. Scanning the floor ahead, I tilt my chin armor downward. A small blue locomotive rests motionless across the seam of the tile. I extend my forward left stride by half an inch, testing the surface tension. The contact produces a firm, dull snap against the stone. Terrain assessed: stable, unyielding. I lock my stance in place before the tiny engine.