Lowering the Aim

My optics came online. A rigid silence hung across the platform. I observed the silver figure standing directly ahead, canon raised, unmoving against the illuminated towers behind us. My internal servos engaged with a faint hum. I had motion. Rather than pressing forward, I slowly rotated my wrists and tilted the rifle downward, allowing its tip to rest away from a direct line of fire. The silver figure remained frozen in place. Tension settled into quiet order. I stood firmly on my base, holding my ground.