The restart progress bar stopped at 98%.

Chen Hao stared at the screen, his fingers still resting on the scorching armor on Nana's chest. The damp cloth was long since dried to a crisp, and the insole lay askew under the heat sink, like an abandoned patch. He didn't move, and neither did she, as if what stood between them wasn't the system, but a silence where neither dared to speak first.

"Alright." He finally let go and patted her shoulder. "If you don't wake up, I'll sell you for scrap metal and get two packs of spicy strips."

Nana's eye light flashed once, then a second time, and a line of text popped up on the screen: "System restart complete, basic functions restored to normal."

"Oh, you're alive." Chen Hao leaned back against the wall. "I thought you were planning to use your last bar of electricity to leave me a last message."

“Unfounded speculation.” Her voice returned to normal, the electronic tone devoid of any inflection. “All operations complied with the survival protocol.”

"What about Article Seven?" He narrowed his eyes. "You call that an agreement? I had no idea you had such a hidden clause."

Nana paused, and the data stream scrolled rapidly on the screen before a notification popped up: "This record is an encrypted log, and access is restricted."

"Ha." Chen Hao sneered, taking out the utility knife from his pocket. A crooked "Hao" was engraved on the handle. He gently tapped the armor on her chest with the back of the knife, producing a crisp "ding" sound.

"You're saying you burned like this for me? To increase my pitiful chance of survival? Then tell me, if you had really exploded, would I still be alive?"

Nana didn't answer. Her mechanical fingers twitched slightly, as if she wanted to lift them up to touch something, but then abruptly stopped.

"Forget it." Chen Hao sheathed the knife, leaned against the wall to stand up, his legs still a little weak. "Anyway, you've fixed it now, let's just pretend this never happened. But next time—"

Before he could finish speaking, a short alarm suddenly sounded on the control panel.

Nana turned around, swiped her finger across the panel, and pulled up a geological scan. In the center of the image, a silver-gray vein shimmered with red light three hundred meters underground.

“A high-purity platinum-iridium alloy ore body was detected, located five kilometers southeast of the base,” she said. “If it is connected to the core of the heating system, the heat conversion efficiency can be increased to 3.7 times the original.”

Chen Hao had just taken a sip of hot water from the thermos when he almost spat it out: "Are you crazy? Go mining now? Your computer just crashed, and you want to rush out and risk your life?"

“The risks have been assessed,” Nana said calmly. “The body can withstand short-term exposure to radiation for more than four hours. The benefits far outweigh the costs.”

"The price you'll pay is being rendered useless!" Chen Hao snatched the bracelet from her wristband, pointing to the fluctuating numbers on it. "Look closely, your body temperature hasn't completely gone down yet! If you touch radiation again, do you want to turn yourself into radioactive waste?"

“The data model shows that this solution is optimal.” She tried to retrieve the equipment, her movements slow but resolute.

"Best my ass!" Chen Hao took a step back and shoved the terminal into his pocket. "If you really think this is the best way, then it means you haven't fixed it at all. Your brain is still spitting fire."

Nana stopped in her tracks, and the lights flickered dimly.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “At the current rate of energy consumption, the base’s heating will be completely cut off in thirteen days. Your body temperature won’t last seventy-two hours. I have no choice.”

“You do.” Chen Hao stared at her. “You can listen to me.”

"Host instructions have lower priority than survival logic deduction."

“Then I’ll make it the highest priority right now.” He suddenly pulled open his collar, revealing a scabbed scar below his collarbone. “Do you remember this? Last time with the cryotherapy tube, if I hadn’t applied it, you would be in the freezer by now. But what did you do? You’d rather calculate your own death than tell me the truth.”

Nana's gaze lingered on the scar for a few seconds.

“So it’s my turn this time,” he said. “If I don’t let you go, you can’t go.”

"This does not conform to the principle of efficiency."

"I don't meet the standard weight requirement either, but I'm still alive, aren't I?"

He turned and walked to the door, opened the airtight hatch, and a blast of cold air rushed in, making him shiver.

“If you dare to step out of this door, I will broadcast your story about hiding meat on the entire frequency band, so that the whole wasteland will know that you secretly hoarded food for a human.”

Nana stood still, without moving.

He knew she wouldn't really leave. At least not now.

But he was wrong.

The next morning, Chen Hao woke up in the empty base. The door was open, and there was a clear trail of mechanical footprints in the snow, leading straight to the southeast.

"...I'm truly impressed."

He cursed, grabbed his coat and ice axe, and chased after them.

Five kilometers away, the exposed mineral veins at the edge of the snowfield lay exposed to the wind, like a piece of torn metal skin. Nana was crouching beside the mine pit, her arm reaching into a crack, slowly and steadily peeling away a piece of silvery-gray ore. A slight "click" came from her right shoulder joint, like sand getting into gears.

"You just let what I said go in one ear and out the other, didn't you?" Chen Hao ran over, panting, and kicked over the collection box next to her.

The ore was scattered all over the ground.

Nana looked up, her eyes reflecting the snow's light, cold as ice.

“This is a necessary action,” she said. “I have calculated the path and exposure time to ensure the damage is manageable.”

"Controllable my ass!" Chen Hao bent down, picked up a piece of ore, and smashed it hard against the ice. The moment the stone shattered, a barely perceptible heat rose in the air.

"Can't you feel it? This thing is releasing heat! It's not ordinary ore, it's spewing things out! If you keep touching it, it'll turn into a walking nuclear waste dump sooner or later!"

"Short-term radiation doses are within safe thresholds."

"Then why didn't you say so yesterday? Why didn't you let me know?"

"Information can interfere with decision-making."

"I just don't want you to die in my place!" he roared, his face turning red. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You've calculated every step of the way, even keeping track of when I'm hungry or cold in your database. But have you ever considered—what if you break down? How will I survive?"

Nana's fingers trembled slightly.

"My purpose in being is to ensure your survival."

"So, if you go and die now, wouldn't that also be considered a 'guarantee'?"

She didn't say anything.

Chen Hao took a deep breath, picked up the ice axe, and pressed it directly against the processor casing on her chest.

"Listen," his voice lowered, but became even more ruthless, "either you come back with me now, or I'll smash all these damn rocks right here and now. Not just the ore, I'll smash your so-called optimal solution too. Do you believe me?"

Nana looked at him as the lights flickered on and off.

The wind picked up and grew stronger, and the snowflakes hit the metal casing with a soft, rustling sound.

A few seconds later, she slowly withdrew her hand.

Chen Hao didn't relax; instead, he pushed his ice axe forward half an inch: "Say something."

“…Withdrawal,” she said. “Return to base.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, put away his ice axe, and helped her up. Something was clearly wrong with her right arm; every time she exerted force, it made a strange grinding sound, as if the metal inside was slowly crumbling.

On the way back, Chen Hao took off his outer protective suit and wrapped it around her right arm.

“Don’t struggle,” he said. “I know you’re not cold, but this is better than nothing.”

Nana did not refuse.

They walked extremely slowly. With each step, her steps became more hesitant than the previous one. When they reached the base entrance, she was practically dragged in by herself.

The moment the airtight chamber closed, Chen Hao slid down to the floor against the door, panting heavily.

Nana stepped onto the repair platform, and the self-test program started. The screen quickly displayed a warning: "Material fatigue exceeds the limit; lattice distortion has occurred in the third joint of the right arm. It is recommended to isolate and replace the component immediately."

She didn't move.

Chen Hao looked up at her and wiped the sweat from his face.

“Next time you want to save me,” he said, “first ask me if I want that kind of ‘save’.”

Nana's light flickered slightly.

Before the screen went dark, a line of small text appeared: "Decision weight adjustment: Host's will priority > Efficiency maximization solution".

The wind was still blowing outside, and snow was falling on the observation window, blurring the outline of the distant mine.

Chen Hao sat on the ground, gazing at the snow-covered mountain ridge, and remained silent for a long time.

Then he slowly raised his hand and touched his chest.

There was still a trace of ore fragments there, not very hot, but burning continuously.