His right leg suddenly buckled, and Chen Hao fell forward, his elbow hitting the metal steps in front of the cabin door with a dull thud. Ignoring the pain, he clung tightly to the door frame, pulling himself up as if grasping at a straw.

“We’re here…we’re home…” He was panting as if he had just finished an interstellar marathon, his throat was parched. “I swear, if anyone ever says ‘exercise is good for your health’ again, I’ll put them in a propulsion suit and take them for a ride.”

Nana stood half a step behind him, and with a gentle push from the robotic arm, she slid him rather inelegantly into the cabin. The automatic identification system beeped twice, the hatch slowly closed, and the sealing ring emitted a slight depressurization sound.

The moment the last indicator light went out, the number on the propulsion suit screen jumped from 0.8% to 0, and then went completely black. The entire device seemed to have been ripped from its body, collapsing onto him like a heavy metal shell.

"bite."

With a crisp click, the charging port popped out automatically; Nana was already prepared, and the cable was precisely connected. Blue light rose along the cable, and a faint green outline reappeared at the edge of the dashboard.

“Energy replenishment has been initiated.” She stepped back, the scanner slid across Chen Hao’s body. “Current heart rate 132. It is recommended to stop using exaggerated rhetoric to mask fear.”

“I’m not exaggerating!” He lay on his back on the ground, his chest heaving violently. “Those few steps just now were the longest 100-meter sprint of my life—and it was the kind that you could watch in slow motion.”

He raised his hand to wipe his face; his palm was sweaty. The floor was cool, and a comfortable numbness spread across his back. He didn't want to move, nor dared to, for fear that if he moved even slightly, his body would give up.

Nana crouched down and gently tapped the sensor on his wrist with her mechanical finger. "Your blood pressure is dropping, and your breathing rate is returning to normal. You can start thinking about what to eat tomorrow."

“Right now, all I’m thinking about is how to survive tonight.” He rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, where were you all this time? If I had come back five minutes later, I would be a glowing corpse by now—after all, you could still keep scanning, while I would have been dead long ago.”

“I reminded you the whole time,” she said calmly. “You selectively ignored the energy-saving prompts three times, manually restarted the posture balance seven times, and continued to rub against the wall for as long as forty-two minutes in a windless environment.”

"That's called relaxation! People always fidget a little when they're nervous!"

"System records show that you rubbed your back on the rocks at a frequency of nearly 15 times per minute for more than half an hour. This is not relaxation; it is abnormal behavior."

"I'm hot!" he retorted, sticking out his neck. "The sun is so strong, I'm not a robot, can't I dissipate heat?"

“You sweat, but you don’t calculate the energy consumption,” she said. “If you used the time you would spend rubbing against a wall to walk, you could save 1.3% of your battery, enough to listen to two more songs you want to sing but are too afraid to.”

Chen Hao opened his mouth, but ultimately closed it in dejection. "Fine, I give up. I'm just a walking electricity rat, living off electricity and still complaining about the price."

The cabin lighting switched to night mode, softening the light. Nana's blue eyes also dimmed, like a firefly floating on a lake at night.

She walked to the control panel and pulled up today's log. "Total mission time: 6 hours and 17 minutes, effective distance traveled: 2.7 kilometers, nine unnecessary energy consumption events were triggered, the highest single energy consumption event being your attempt to swat a non-existent mosquito with your propulsion suit."

"That thing flew into my face! How could I stand it?"

"Infrared scanning detected no living organisms near your face."

"That's because it's too fast!"

"It could also be your hallucination."

"Hello--"

"Overall assessment: Survival skills are satisfactory, but energy management is unsatisfactory." She turned around, the blue light sweeping over his still sprawled figure on the ground. "I suggest you check your energy consumption trend before traveling in the future, instead of waiting until you only have 5% left before you start to panic."

Chen Hao stared at the ceiling and suddenly laughed. "You're right. I shouldn't have treated the propulsion suit like a toy, much less expected it to accompany me in a 'PUBG' reality show."

He slowly sat up, leaned against the bulkhead, and reached out to touch the power interface on his propulsion suit. The green light pulsed steadily, like a heart beating again.

"Actually..." he lowered his voice, "I knew you would help me. Even when the battery was almost dead, I knew you could bring me back. That's why I dared to be so reckless."

Nana paused for a few seconds. "Trust is the foundation of efficient collaboration. But over-reliance can lead to the accumulation of risks."

“I know, I’ll check the battery level next time.” He grinned. “But don’t be so calm, making me feel like a schoolboy who’s done something wrong. At least give me some consolation prize, like a ‘good job’?”

"You have successfully completed the three tasks: water purification collection, animal interaction test, and extreme return journey." She paused. "Data entry complete. Evaluation: Barely passing."

"Huh?" He stared wide-eyed. "I thought I could at least get a 'decent performance' rating!"

"Your energy consumption curve is jagged, your movement trajectory deviates from the optimal path multiple times, and you even squatted down for thirty seconds for fear of the vibration from the gravel."

"That's me adjusting my breathing! A strategic pause!"

"The system has recorded this as 'non-combat stagnation'."

"Do all these machine-generated reports use templates?" He rolled his eyes. "Can't you be a little more flexible?"

"I can change it to 'a brief shutdown due to emotional fluctuations'."

"It's even worse!"

Nana tilted her head slightly, as if considering new words. The cabin fell silent, with only the faint hum of the charger.

After a moment, Chen Hao sighed and leaned back against the bulkhead. "Forget it, I'm not going to argue anymore. I can't beat you anyway—you can even cite data when you're arguing."

He closed his eyes, his breathing gradually becoming steady. Exhaustion washed over him like a tide, but he didn't get up to take off his stunt suit, nor did he think about taking a shower. Lying like this was fine.

"You know what?" he suddenly spoke, his eyes still closed, "when we were walking that last stretch of road just now, I was thinking, what would you do if I really collapsed on the road?"

“Execute the emergency towing protocol,” she replied quickly. “Use the robotic arm to secure you and tow you back to the escape pod in the lowest power mode. The entire process is expected to take 47 minutes.”

"Won't you be exhausted?"

"I have no concept of fatigue."

“But I do.” He opened one eye and looked at her. “So thank you for not making me a homeless person in the alien wilderness.”

Nana didn't respond to that. Her blue light flickered slightly, like a kind of tacit agreement.

A moment later, she turned and walked to the standby area in the corner, preparing to enter low-power mode. The last of her pre-sleep routine checks was completed, and a soft system notification sounded.

Chen Hao was still lying on the ground, his arms and legs outstretched, like a starfish that had melted in the sun.

"I have to go to the lake again tomorrow," he murmured. "The filter cartridge can only be used three times, so the water needs to be treated again."

"I've already planned my itinerary for tomorrow," she said. "I'm setting my departure time two hours after sunrise to avoid the peak heatwave."

"Okay." He nodded, then added, "I won't be rubbing against the wall this time."

"It is also recommended to reduce unnecessary verbal output," she added. "Speaking consumes oxygen and indirectly affects metabolic load."

"I'm not a generator, why should I have to conserve my breath?" he scoffed. "Besides, you've been talking the whole time, haven't you?"

“My voice module is driven by an independent circuit and is not associated with the main power system.”

"So you're just talking without understanding the pain?"

Nana paused, seemingly searching for a suitable response. Her blue light flickered slightly, like the surface of water rippling in the wind.

Then she said, "I can remain silent the whole time."

"No!" He sat up abruptly. "I'd rather die out there."

She didn't speak again, but nodded slightly. The light in her eyes slowly dimmed to its lowest point. The last frame before entering standby mode was Chen Hao lying down again, one hand resting on the power cord of the propulsion suit, his fingertips trembling slightly with the rhythm of the current.

The cabin was completely silent.

The charging progress bar is steadily increasing.

The green light reflected on his face, flashing and brightening.