The wind is still blowing.

The small red dot on the screen continued to move forward, the drone passing through a low ridge and entering the depths of the mining area. The image shook even more violently than before, and snow-like patterns began to appear at the edges of the lens.

“The signal is a bit unstable.” Carl stared at the control panel. “The interference is probably caused by rock friction in the landslide area.”

Chen Hao leaned closer to the screen: "Move forward a little further and get a clear shot of the back of the drilling platform."

“They’re already filming.” Carl lightly pushed the control stick with his finger. “But the wind is too strong, and the plane is shaking violently.”

Nana stood to the side, the vents of her phone slightly warm. She pulled up a real-time weather map and whispered, "The wind speed in the northwest has risen to level five, with gusts approaching the level six limit. The flight time can only be maintained for a maximum of two hours."

"That's enough," Chen Hao said. "As long as I can see the status of all the equipment, that's fine."

Susan remained silent, her eyes fixed on the screen. Suddenly, she pointed and exclaimed, "Wait! There!"

Everyone looked to the left side of the screen.

Underneath a metal plate half-buried by mud and rocks, a broken cable was exposed. The color was new; it was the model they had just replaced last week.

“That’s the main control line interface,” Susan said in a low voice. “If it’s still connected to the internal modules… it means the data hasn’t been lost.”

“It’s not just data.” Chen Hao narrowed his eyes. “The core processor of that recycling machine is down there.”

He turned to look at Nana: "Is there a record in the database of how long this model's data is saved? How long can it last when the power is off?"

Nana blinked once, and the information immediately appeared: "It can last for seventy-two hours under standard conditions. However, if the outer shell is damaged, water gets in, or it is deformed by pressure, the time will be greatly shortened."

“It’s all mud and water outside right now,” Carl said. “I don’t think we can hold out for more than a few hours.”

The air suddenly felt heavy.

Chen Hao bit his lip: "In other words, if we don't take action now, we won't even have a chance to carry out emergency repairs."

No one responded.

He knew what they were thinking. The last time a landslide nearly hit a drone, if a person went in, their reaction time wouldn't be as fast as the machine's.

But he also knew he couldn't wait.

“Nana,” he said, “rewind that footage and zoom in on the area around the solar panel support.”

Nana did as instructed. The image was replayed, and after algorithmic enhancement, the originally blurry areas became clearer.

The bracket is indeed crooked, but the base bolts are still in place. The panel surface has scratches, but no cracks.

“This thing is the heaviest.” Chen Hao pointed to the screen. “Even it wasn’t washed away, which means the landslide hasn’t fully started yet; it’s just a localized loosening.”

“But when that rock fell just now—” Susan was interrupted before she could finish speaking.

“That’s already been loosened by the tremors,” Chen Hao shook his head. “The real collapse is a complete downward movement. What we’re seeing now is just a precursor.”

Carl looked up at him: "You mean, there's still time?"

"Yes, but not many." Chen Hao took a deep breath. "We have to go in within 24 hours. If we're too late, the whole area will collapse."

Susan frowned: "Are you really planning to go?"

"What else?" he retorted. "Just watch it get buried? What are we going to eat for the next three months? Live on air?"

“It can be detonated remotely to destroy the equipment,” Susan said. “At least we won’t let anyone else pick it up.”

"Who's going to detonate it? And what are we going to use to detonate it?" Chen Hao rolled his eyes. "We don't even have a decent detonator, and you're trying to hold a demolition drill?"

"I'm not joking."

“I am,” he said, laughing first, “but I can’t laugh.”

The atmosphere grew even colder.

Nana suddenly spoke up: "I suggest we act immediately. According to the current geological model, the next six hours will be a period of relatively stable winds. In the afternoon, the cloud cover will thicken, increasing the probability of rain. At that time, aircraft will be unable to operate, and ground traffic will also be obstructed."

"So we have to leave before it rains," Chen Hao nodded.

"You're going too?" Susan stared at him.

"If I don't go, who will?" he shrugged. "Do you think this job can be done by just giving orders?"

“I can lead the team,” she said.

"No way." He refused outright.

"Why? It's not like this is my first time on a mission."

“Because you almost got yourself killed last time.” Chen Hao’s tone hardened. “And this time is different. This isn’t exploration, it’s rescue. We have to move things, we have to break things apart, we have to work with the risk of a collapse at any moment. Going alone is tantamount to suicide.”

"What about the other two? Are they taking turns going in?"

“That won’t work either.” Chen Hao shook his head. “Once you’re in, you have to get out quickly. Going back and forth will only increase the time you’re exposed.”

"So your plan is—all four of you attack together?"

“Yes.” He looked at her. “Either we don’t die, or we’re buried there together.”

Susan opened her mouth, but in the end only managed to utter one word: "Stupid."

“I know it’s stupid,” he said, “but I’d rather be stupid than sit here and watch resources go to waste.”

She didn't say anything more, but just looked down at her hands and then looked up at the screen.

In the footage, the drone is seen navigating around a slope and capturing the back of the second recovery machine.

The aircraft was overturned, but the door latches were intact. There were no signs of blockage at the side exhaust vents.

“The core module might still be there,” Karl said softly.

"Then we can't give up even more." Chen Hao turned and walked towards the tool cabinet. "Let's get ready to go."

He opened the bottom drawer and took out an emergency toolbox. He took out hydraulic struts, cutters, tow ropes, and reinforcement straps one by one.

"Have all these things been checked?" Susan came over to help.

"I just charged it yesterday." Chen Hao turned on the switch of the cutter, and the red light came on. "It should be fine."

“Bring three waterproof bags,” she said. “The electronic modules must be kept dry.”

"Label them." Chen Hao pulled a marker from his bag. "Separate the stolen items by priority, so they don't become a mess later."

Carl had returned to the control panel and began packing the communication equipment. He stuffed the locator beacon into his backpack and tested the signal strength again.

“Two beacons, one for each person,” he said. “If we lose contact, at least we can find them.”

"Replace the battery," Chen Hao reminded him. "Don't try to save a little electricity."

“It’s been changed,” Carl nodded. “We even prepared an extra set.”

Nana stood by the monitoring station, her fingers rapidly swiping across the screen. She was updating the route map, avoiding the newly discovered loosened areas.

“I suggest cutting in from the western ridge,” she said. “The slope there is gentle, the view is open, and it’s easier to evacuate in case of danger.”

“Draw a marker line,” Chen Hao said, “and transmit it to everyone’s handheld terminal.”

“It’s already synchronized.” Nana said, then turned to him, “I will be coming along too.”

"You're going too?" Susan was stunned.

“My sensors are more accurate than human visual judgment,” Nana said calmly. “In complex terrain, I can identify structural risk points in advance.”

"And you're not afraid of getting tired," Chen Hao grinned, "which saves you rest time."

“It’s not that I’m afraid of being tired,” Susan said softly, “I’m afraid… something will happen.”

No one responded to that sentence.

Chen Hao stuffed the last tool into his backpack and zipped it up. He stood up and stretched his shoulders.

"Listen up, all of you." He looked around at the three of them. "Once inside, no one is allowed to act alone. If you notice anything unusual, retreat immediately. Don't even think about grabbing anything extra. Our goal is to come back alive, not to be heroes."

Karl nodded and slung his equipment over his shoulder.

Susan silently tightened her shoelaces, then picked up her first-aid kit and slung it over her shoulder.

Nana checked the weather data one last time, shut down the main control system from standby mode, and switched to portable terminal control.

"One last check before departure," she said. "Everyone should carry a GPS beacon, waterproof communicator, and basic first aid kit. Oxygen masks are on standby, and dustproof goggles should be worn."

"All together." Chen Hao patted the walkie-talkie on his waist. "Keep in touch on the way."

He walked to the door and reached out to grasp the doorknob.

The sunlight outside was blinding, and the wind made the tin roof rattle.

“Let’s go,” he said, “before the weather changes.”

The three followed him out of the command area one by one.

Chen Hao stopped and glanced back at the monitoring station. On the screen, the drone's small red dot was still moving slowly, like a heartbeat that refused to be extinguished.

“We’ll close it when we get back,” he told Nana.

Nana stood in front of the light screen, the heat dissipation vents slightly red, her finger hovering above the power button.

She didn't press it.

Chen Hao turned around and pushed open the door.

The wind blew in, stirring up the dust on the ground.

They stood at the doorway, their backpacks heavy, each clutching their own tools.

The road lies ahead, dust flying everywhere.

Chen Hao took the first step.