Chen Hao stared at the flashing process number in the lower right corner of the screen and tapped the edge of the keyboard twice with his fingers.

“This thing is still moving,” he said.

Nana didn't speak; the optical mirror scanned the data stream of the main control chip. She retrieved the original image from the quantum storage and performed a differential comparison with the current system. A few seconds later, a series of highlighted timestamps popped up on the screen.

“The last time you were active,” she said, “the seventh minute when you started hallucinating.”

"So it didn't just appear out of nowhere?"

"It's more like it was triggered."

"By what?"

"Your brainwaves."

Chen Hao paused, then looked down at the veins on the back of his hand. "My brain can be remotely turned on?"

“The drug altered your neural signaling patterns,” Nana said. “It may have activated unauthorized underlying protocols.”

"So... I turned off the oxygen valve while I was chewing on the wrench?"

"The logic holds true."

He leaned back in his chair, a crease forming on the soft pillow. "So, if I yawn from now on, will I be able to blow up the base?"

"This possibility cannot be ruled out."

"We need to think of a way." Chen Hao rubbed his face. "We can't rely on manual operation anymore."

Nana turned to look at him.

“Let’s try a different approach,” she said. “Directly connect to your brain.”

"You mean...mind control?"

"To be precise, it's intuitive operation."

"It sounds like a failed experiment from a science fiction movie."

"The success rate is currently zero."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Because you are the only breakthrough point now."

Chen Hao opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Half a minute later, he asked, "What do I do?"

Nana took a metal box from the lab bench. Inside was a flat, ring-shaped device with tiny contact points along its edges.

“A neural sensor,” she said. “Just stick it on your forehead.”

"Won't you electrocute me?"

"The voltage is below the sensing threshold."

"Last time you said the medicine was safe, but it made me want to eat a screwdriver."

"No chemical intervention was involved this time."

"But I still don't think it's very reliable."

"You can continue using your hands."

"What if I accidentally turn something off again?"

"Like the main power supply?"

"For example, your power button."

Nana paused for two seconds. "I suggest you start the test as soon as possible."

Chen Hao rolled his eyes, took the sensor, and put it on. The cold touch against his skin made him shiver.

"Start." Nana pressed the program switch.

The screen lights up, and a progress bar appears in the center with the words "Signal synchronization in progress" written below.

What should I do now?

"Relax."

"I'm already very relaxed."

"Loosen it a little more."

"I feel like I'm falling apart."

The progress bar slowly climbed to 30%, then suddenly jerked violently, and the robotic arm twitched sharply, sweeping across the energy pipeline.

"What is it going to do?!" Chen Hao shrank back.

“The instruction was misinterpreted.” Nana immediately paused the program. “Your heart is beating too fast, and your brainwaves are too chaotic.”

"How could I not panic? This thing almost smashed the pipe."

"I need to stabilize my emotions."

"Would you like me to play some soft music?"

"Fumigate with herbs."

"It's grass juice again?"

"Pure plant extract, no neuroactive ingredients."

A few minutes later, a faint scent of grass filled the air. Chen Hao's breathing slowed, and the progress bar reloaded.

This time, the rate of increase was steady.

“Try imagining that you’re turning on irrigation for zone D,” Nana said.

"Just thinking about it?"

"No need to speak or lift a finger."

Chen Hao closed his eyes, and the image of watering the plants flashed through his mind. The soil was moist, the green seedlings were sprouting, and water droplets fell from the sprinkler—

The robotic arm gently turned the valve, and the sound of flowing water was heard.

"It's open?"

"Activated".

He opened his eyes, stared at the slowly rotating valve, and a smile slowly crept onto his lips.

"Did I really think about it just now?"

"Accuracy rate of 72 percent."

"Not 100%?"

"The system is still learning your thought patterns."

"Next time I want to turn off the lights, will it turn into turning on the oven?"

"The probability exists."

"Then let's do it again."

In his second test, he tried turning off the lights in Zone E. The moment the thought crossed his mind, the lights went out.

"It's done?"

"Response successful."

“I told you I could do it.”

"But there is a 1.2-second delay."

"Who cares about a second or half a second?"

"What if it's to prevent an explosion?"

Chen Hao remained silent.

Nana pulled up the signal log. "The problem is the lag in recognizing the termination command," she said. "When you want to stop, the system is still executing."

"How do we solve this?"

"Split the instruction flow".

She connected to the fine-tuning module of the anti-gravity device, dividing the neural signals into three segments: activation, maintenance, and termination. Each segment had an independent verification mechanism.

“That’s not enough,” she said. “Add a physiological feedback confirmation.”

"What's the meaning?"

"When you give the 'stop' signal, if you blink or your muscles tense up at the same time, stop the execution immediately."

"I blink when I'm nervous."

"That's perfect."

The third test begins.

Chen Hao stared at the robotic arm, silently telling himself to "lift." The robotic arm slowly rose. Then, trying to "stop," it froze almost instantly.

"What is the margin of error?"

"0.8 seconds, with fluctuations of less than 3 milliseconds."

"Is it okay now?"

"Some equipment meets the standards."

"Does that mean I won't be able to work without using my hands anymore?"

"Theoretically, yes."

To be honest.

"A lot of calibration is still needed."

"for example?"

"You can only control one device at a time; you can't think about two things at the same time."

"What if I want to open the valve and eat at the same time?"

"The system will prioritize executing intents that consume more energy."

"Does eating increase energy expenditure?"

"The instinct for survival takes precedence over operational instructions."

"So I'll finish fixing the system on an empty stomach?"

"Possibly."

"This setting is unreasonable."

"This is determined by biology."

"Then shall I replace the food with utensils?"

"Give it a try."

Chen Hao closed his eyes, trying to imagine what a wrench looked like, while simultaneously thinking about opening the ventilation vent.

The robotic arm jerked, then spun around in place and opened the tool cabinet door.

What is it doing?

"I chose the items I use most often."

"I've been using a wrench a lot lately?"

“You’ve taken it 19 times in the last 72 hours.”

"That's because something's always broken!"

"The system only records the frequency."

"Add intent priority to me."

"Added as an option."

Set it to 'Highest priority for current task'.

"Setup complete".

During the fourth test, he focused intently on turning off the heating. There were no extraneous images, no distractions, only the clear instruction.

The temperature controller in Zone E automatically cuts off the power.

"It's done."

"Response time: 0.79 seconds."

"It's 0.01 faster than before?"

"Stable at the millisecond level."

"Can I sign off on the acceptance now?"

"This is only version 1.0."

"At least we'll have to press fewer buttons."

Nana brought up the main interface, where a new module had been added: "Neural Interface: Activating". Below it were displayed the connection status, signal strength, and risk warnings.

"What about the abnormal process?" Chen Hao asked.

"They have been quarantined."

Will they come back?

"The probability is extremely low unless there is another high-intensity neural interference."

"Then I'll quit taking the medication."

"That is the suggestion."

"And don't secretly add anything to my food."

"I have no motive."

“That’s not what you said last time.”

Nana didn't respond. Her optical glasses turned towards the main control screen, and the last set of data streams glided smoothly across the screen.

Chen Hao removed the sensor and rubbed his temples. A faint red mark remained on his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Your head feels a little light."

"No dizziness or visual hallucinations?"

"No. But I always feel like the tools next door smell a bit good."

Nana immediately locked access to the tool cabinet.

"Before the next test, conduct a cognitive assessment first."

"Another quiz?"

Ten multiple-choice questions.

"Can I use voice?"

"I'm afraid you might blurt out that you're shutting down the main power switch."

"Am I that stupid?"

"The system believes you pose a potential risk."

Chen Hao snorted and reached for the whiteboard to write his report. The pen had barely touched the paper when he suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?"

Did I just blink?

"yes."

Did you see me move my finger?

"No."

"Then why is the drainage pump in Zone E..."

The monitoring footage shows the drainage pump running. Water flows into the sedimentation tank through the pipes.

"I didn't intend to open this."

Nana quickly retrieved the log.

Neural interface recordings show: **Intent recognition – Initiation of liquid circulation (match rate 81%)**.

Execution time: **three seconds ago**.

"It took your blinking as a command?"

"possible."

"I didn't mean to."

"The system has determined this to be valid input."

"Then what should we do?"

Nana looked at him, and the optical glasses flickered slightly.

"Before the next test," she said, "put on your blindfold."