Lin Tao stood twelve inches from the southwest corner seam, his body angled at forty-five degrees to both wall planes.
To an outside observer, his stance appeared fully irrational. He wasn’t facing the slavering pack of bronze hounds, nor was he bracing himself against the solid iron wall. He stood with his knees bent at ninety degrees, his balance point lowered until his thighs were parallel to the dark rock floor, his arms extended forward to counterbalance his torso. His breathing was locked into a steady, four-count clockwork rhythm, each breath out venting tension from his hamstrings and hip flexors.
In his left eye, the frame-time tracking data was ticking like a high-care pocket watch:
TICK: 21 [41.6 MS] - LOAD: 88% TICK: 22 [41.6 MS] - LOAD: 92% TICK: 23 [41.6 MS] - LOAD: 99% [HITCH DETECTED]
Across the chamber, sixteen bronze hounds let loose their coordinated charge. Their exhaust ports erupted with blinding geysers of green potion-made flame, spewing millions of glowing volume specks into the air as they leaped at the same time across the dark rock floor. The sound was an ear-splitting roar of venting steam, screeching gears, and howling brass whistles that rattled the bronze columns of the ancient arena.
