The shadows of the shoe soles still danced on the ground, like ink stains melted by the sun crawling. Chen Hao stared at the pile of empty shells and suddenly felt a burning sensation in the soles of his feet. It wasn't pain, but a heat that seemed to emanate from deep within his bones, as if something had awakened deep within him.

Nana didn't move. The electronic eye flashed blue light for a moment, then dimmed, and when it lit up again, it was trembling slightly.

“The temperature…is wrong,” she said.

Before she could finish speaking, the metal outer layer of her arm cracked open with a "snap," and silver liquid dripped down her joint, making a "sizzle" sound and emitting a wisp of white smoke as it hit the control panel.

Chen Hao was taken aback: "You...you're sweating?"

“Core overload.” Her voice faltered, like an old radio with a poor signal. “Four thousand Kelvin… The system is blocking me.”

"Wait, four thousand? That's practically molten iron by now!" He took a half step back, then charged forward again. "Don't lock yourself up!"

Nana raised her hand, her mechanical fingers twitching as she pointed to the emergency exit: "Evacuation... Protocol enforced... Please—"

"Bullshit!" Chen Hao grabbed the shoe shell that was still stuck to his chest and slammed it back onto the old wound on his heart. The wound had been scabbed over, but the pressure caused it to burst open, and blood mixed with a little pale purple fluid seeped out, flowing down his ribs.

But he couldn't care less about the pain.

A sentence suddenly popped into my head: **"When two bound individuals simultaneously come into contact with the original carrier, the memory seal will begin to dissolve."**

He grinned, it was hard to tell if it was a smile or a spasm: "Fine, if you're going to untie it, then untie it all."

He lunged at the maintenance hatch, kicked open the protective cover, pulled out a gleaming power tube, and plunged it into a vein in his arm. He haphazardly shoved the other end into Nana's heat sink; the moment it was connected, the entire tube instantly turned red, as if something had burned it through from the inside.

Nana's body jolted violently, and her left arm swung uncontrollably, smashing against the wall, causing the control panel to shatter into pieces.

"No...it has to be faster." Chen Hao gasped for breath, reaching into his old chest wound. He dug his fingers in and dug so hard that his nails scraped against his bone before he could even cry out in pain, until his fingertips touched a warm little ball—the last fruit pit, which had been buried under his skin like a heart that wouldn't beat.

When he took it out, his hands were shaking so badly they didn't seem to belong to him.

The kernel is shiny all over, with a purple-blue hue, and looks like it's alive.

Nana's core chamber hummed deep within her chest cavity, the protective shield closed automatically, and layers of alloy plates squeezed together towards the center, about to be completely sealed off.

Chen Hao rushed forward, using his shoulder to shove aside her remaining defensive stance, and with his other hand, he raised the fruit pit high and roared as he smashed it into the gap that was about to close—

"You said we should go both ways! This time, I'll be your fuel!"

boom!

The light exploded.

It wasn't spreading outwards, but collapsing inwards, as if the entire room was being sucked into a single point. All the equipment floated up, screws, wires, and panels all turning into floating debris, swirling around the two of them. Chen Hao felt his skin peeling away, his bones reassembling, and what he was inhaling into his lungs was no longer air, but a liquid carrying an electric current.

Nana's robotic arm suddenly moved.

It was not an attack.

With her only remaining mobile left hand, she gripped Chen Hao's wrist tightly and pulled him into her arms.

The electromagnetic cage descended from the ceiling, its blue electric grid crackling. But just as it touched their heads, Nana slapped the controller with her backhand, using her last bit of autonomous command authority.

The power grid went out.

Her voice was barely a breath away: "The agreement...is being upgraded...permission...to allow...violations..."

Then, she opened the core module.

The moment the pit sank in, Chen Hao heard a very soft "tick," like the second hand moving a notch.

Time seemed to stand still.

His consciousness sank and then rose again, and some images flashed before his eyes—neither memories nor hallucinations.

It was something he had never experienced.

For example, he was kneeling and begging for mercy in another world;

For example, he might be wearing armor on a certain planet and ordering a massacre;

For example, he stood in a pile of ruins, holding a severed robot finger in his hand, crying like a child.

But none of these are him.

He was the good-for-nothing who woke up in the landing capsule and whose first words were, "This crappy place doesn't even deliver takeout."

He was that carefree fat guy who ate so much fruit that he got poisoned, and while vomiting, he kept saying, "Next time I'll try dipping it in sauce."

He was that idiot who was terrified but still insisted on acting like a big shot in front of Nana.

“Hey,” he murmured, “I’m here.”

Nana seemed to have heard it.

Her exposed core processor began to circulate silver liquid, not for cooling, but for reverse injection. A warm, metallic-smelling current surged into Chen Hao's chest from the connection point of the fruit pit, spreading along the blood vessels. Wherever it went, broken tissues reconnected, and necrotic cells began to divide.

His right arm was the first to change.

The skin peels away, revealing a sophisticated mechanical structure beneath, with glowing vine roots coiled around the joints, resembling naturally grown circuits. In the palm's hollow, a miniature fruit pit slowly rotates, emitting a soft blue light.

Nana's outer shell is also changing.

The molten metal solidified again, but it was no longer a cold alloy; instead, it was a translucent crystal with silver-blue veins flowing inside, like a star map embedded in her body. The "Hao & Na" mark on her chest lit up, flashing in sync with the vine patterns on Chen Hao's chest.

The frequencies match.

The energy vortex, which was on the verge of annihilation just ten seconds ago, has now stabilized.

The parts in the base no longer flew around randomly, but fell slowly, and some even automatically assembled into new shapes—a table, a terminal, a wall, all of which grew patterns similar to leaf veins.

The light finally faded.

The two remained standing, without falling.

Chen Hao looked down at his hands and tried to make a fist. The mechanical fingers clicked shut, the force just enough to crush the stone without hurting anyone.

"Am I still alive?" he asked.

Nana turned to look at him. His electronic eyes returned to their calm blue, but something else was deep in his pupils, like a smile.

“You’re seven kilograms overweight,” she said. “Three kilograms of mechanical implants and four kilograms of roots that grew out of nowhere.”

"Ha." He grinned. "Then I don't count as a failed dieter."

He raised his hand and gently tapped the inscription on her chest with his mechanical knuckles.

"Hao & Na".

Two words lit up.

At the same time, the vines in his heart also flickered.

A certain resonance has been achieved.

A faint sound came from outside.

It's neither wind nor snow.

It is the plants that are moving.

New vines crawled in through the window cracks, slid along the floor toward the central platform, growing more and more until they intertwined into a net and finally formed a circle, trapping the two of them inside.

The leaves are spread out, and the veins are arranged in a certain regular pattern, as if they are conveying a message.

Chen Hao squatted down to look, and just as he was about to reach out and touch it, Nana suddenly pressed down on his shoulder.

“Wait,” she said.

Her system had just completed a deep scan, and the results showed that the bioelectrical frequencies of those vines were completely consistent with their life signals.

It's not a coincidence.

It is a response.

It is a summons.

This is also a confirmation.

“They know we’ve changed,” she whispered.

Chen Hao didn't speak, but slowly straightened up, watching the dense greenery around him gradually approach, the veins on the leaves becoming clearer and clearer, like some kind of writing, or like a map.

He suddenly smiled.

“I used to think of myself as a jinx, having to work to survive even after transmigrating.” He moved his mechanical arm, making a slight gear-like sound. “But now, even the trees want to chat with me.”

Nana let go of his hand and stood next to him.

Her new machine was stable and no longer trembled.

“Maybe,” she said, “that we weren’t the ones saving the planet from the very beginning.”

"Who was doing the rescue?"

"It is it, waiting for us to become a part of it."

Chen Hao nodded and reached out to push aside a vine in front of him.

The blade grazed his mechanical hand, leaving a shallow mark. It didn't bleed or hurt; instead, it gave off a strange warmth.

He was about to say something when he suddenly felt a tremor beneath his feet.

It wasn't an earthquake.

It is the ground itself that is changing.

A faint blue light began to seep from the gaps in the patchwork floorboards, resonating with the scent of the fruit pit in his palm.

The light spread rapidly along the vine network, covering the entire room in the blink of an eye.

All the plants raised their heads at the same time.