Securing the High Ground

Joints locked. Systems cleared. I flexed my talons against the cold metal box beneath me, feeling real traction for the first time. Shouting erupted across the room while red panels flashed behind the counter, but my footing held firm. I shifted my grip on the launcher and pivoted slightly to survey the floor. Right beside my foot stood a matte card terminal. I tapped its rubber keys with one claw—firm, functional, silent. Elevation secured. Sector under observation.