Jin didn't hesitate.
He ran for the edge of the building, heart steady, the cold night wind rushing past his face as he launched into the air.
Below, the broken skeleton of the city waited. Twisted metal, collapsed streets, the faint outline of an old emergency stairwell barely hanging on. He didn't aim for it directly. He let the motion carry him, then twisted mid-flight, pulling the three-section staff from his inventory in one smooth motion.
The metal clicked and snapped into place.
He spun it once to build momentum, then caught the edge of a bent railing, redirecting his weight. The staff flexed under the strain but held long enough for him to flip forward, crashing into the side of the staircase with a grunt.
Not graceful. Not clean. But effective.
