Cement chunks were still falling from above. Chen Hao was pulled to the corner by Nana, his back pressed against the cold metal frame, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

The alarm continued, and the six curves on the screen were still jumping erratically. He stared at the main beam; the crack was wider than before, as if someone had slowly slashed it open with a knife.

“It’s not a collapse,” Nana’s voice was steady. “It’s a resonance chain reaction.”

“That’s not much different.” He took a breath. “If there’s another earthquake, we’ll be buried here.”

She didn't reply. The robotic arm quickly operated on the terminal a few times, and the indicator lights on the four hydraulic rods changed from red to yellow, and then to green.

“Temporary access feedback systems,” she said. “Now they can automatically expand and contract based on pressure.”

"Automatic?" Chen Hao looked up. "When did you set this up?"

“The logic I came up with thirty seconds ago.” She walked toward the nearest pillar. “Let’s test it.”

She tapped the bottom of the support rod. The hydraulic system hummed, and the rod rose slightly, bracing against the crossbeam above. The curve on the monitor immediately flattened out.

"You're pretty good." Chen Hao grinned. "This is much better than manual surveillance."

“This is just a passive response,” she said. “It cannot predict deformation trends.”

"You want it to predict the future?"

“Ideally, it’s about proactive adjustment.” She brought up the control interface, “like biological tissue, making fine adjustments in advance.”

Chen Hao scratched his head. "It sounds like a science fiction movie."

“Bionic engineering has ready-made examples,” she said. “For example, the dynamic balance of human muscles on bones.”

"Wait a minute." He suddenly sat up straight. "You mean... make this dilapidated building 'move' on its own?"

"To be precise, it's an adaptive adjustment."

He paused for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing, "So we're going to turn the base into a breathing fat man?"

“The analogy isn’t accurate,” she said, “but the structural principle is similar.”

"Anyway, the meaning is there." He waved his hand. "Then you should let it catch its breath, don't just stand there."

Nana initiated the system-wide integration test. The six strain gauges continuously transmitted data, and the algorithm began learning the rhythm of stress changes. On the screen, the curve fluctuations gradually became more regular, undulating like a heartbeat.

"Preliminary synchronization is complete," she said. "We're now moving on to simulated load testing."

"A little breeze will do?" Chen Hao asked.

"Use a vibration motor to simulate the impact of strong winds." She pressed the confirmation button.

A slight vibration swept across the corridor from left to right. The monitoring instrument showed an increase in pressure at measuring point three, and the second hydraulic rod immediately applied pressure to provide support, demonstrating a timely response.

"Not bad." Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief.

But just as the tremors subsided, the three pillars suddenly increased pressure simultaneously. A piercing metallic squeaking sound rang out, the right wall arched upwards violently, and the ground rose nearly twenty centimeters. The electrical conduit burst, and fragments flew everywhere.

Chen Hao was bending over to check the wiring connectors when his foot slipped, and he was pushed against the wall. His left shoulder got stuck between the hydraulic rod and the deformed wall, and he couldn't move.

"Damn it!" he groaned. "It's stuck!"

Nana immediately cut off the power source, and the robotic arm moved sideways to brace against the upper beam to prevent further collapse. She opened the pressure relief valve with one hand, and the three supports slowly lowered back down.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"What do you think?" he gritted his teeth. "It's a miracle that no bones are broken."

Once the space opened up, he pulled himself out and leaned against the wall, panting. His shoulder was covered in bruises, and his clothes were torn.

“The algorithm misjudged the peak load,” she said. “There was no upper limit set.”

"It thought the house was about to fall apart, so it got all hyped up?" He rubbed his shoulder. "Next time, maybe it'll tear the roof off?"

“It’s been fixed.” She inserted a new command into the control panel: “Add a 0.5-second delay before all actions, and automatically trip the circuit if the displacement exceeds five centimeters.”

"You've put a bridle on it?"

"Ensure a safe zone."

"Alright," he stood up. "One more time?"

“Okay,” she said. “This time, stand further back.”

“I won’t.” He walked up to the terminal. “I’ll only feel at ease if I see it.”

A new round of testing has begun. The vibration frequency is higher and the duration is longer than before. The monitoring curve shows increased fluctuations, but the hydraulic system responds smoothly, gradually increasing pressure without any sudden jumps.

"The synchronization rate is 89 percent," she said. "Structural deformation is controlled within a safe range."

"So, it's actually 'breathing'?" He stared at the screen.

"Three times per minute, close to the human resting breathing rate."

"It's quite rhythmic," he laughed. "Now I can hear it snoring when I sleep at night."

"This is only version 1.0," she said. "It still needs long-term data optimization."

"Let's just get through tonight first." He stretched his shoulders. "How long do you think it can last?"

"Based on the current adjustment capacity, the structural lifespan can be extended by at least four months."

"So, do we still have time to mine and exchange for materials?"

"The premise is that no more drastic disturbances occur."

“I try not to drop my tools,” he said, “but that push you just gave me almost crushed me into a meat patty.”

"The risk level of the operation has been recorded," she said. "We will inform you in advance before the next manual intervention."

“That’s more like it.” He leaned against the console. “At least there’s some hope.”

She turned off the warning light, and the optical mirror flashed, indicating that the system had entered normal operation. The six stress curves fluctuated smoothly, like the vital signs of a dormant life.

"Dynamic hardening mode successfully activated," she said.

"Is signing a document enough for acceptance?" He looked at the terminal.

"Manual confirmation is required."

He took the electronic pen, signed his name on the interface, and casually drew a smiley face.

“You seem happy,” she said.

“Of course.” He threw his pen on the table. “Yesterday I thought I’d be sleeping in the ruins tomorrow, but now I can at least live for a few more months.”

“Your mood swings have dropped by 23 percent,” she said. “Your anxiety levels are decreasing.”

“That’s because you have something to do,” he said. “It’s easy to feel like dying when you’re idle.”

She didn't say anything, but simply archived the system log and marked it as "First fully automatic response successful".

The wind was still blowing outside, but the sounds coming from the vents were no longer unsettling. The crack at the end of the corridor was covered by a new supporting structure, its surface covered with sensors that shimmered faintly.

"If it starts panting too hard in the future, will it call the police?" he asked.

"A prompt will be displayed if the threshold is exceeded."

"Then please don't let it beep in the middle of the night." He yawned. "I finally get a full night's sleep."

"No," she said. "I'll put the notifications on silent."

"That's more like it." He stretched. "What's next?"

"Monitor nighttime stress changes."

"Waiting again?"

You need to rest.

"I'll just lie on the sofa." He strolled to the corner of the rest area. "You stay here and keep watch. Call me if anything happens."

He had just sat down when a notification suddenly popped up on his terminal.

The displacement of hydraulic rod number two is abnormal, and the value is slowly increasing.