The wind stopped.

It wasn't a brief respite; it was complete silence. Water stopped seeping in through the cracks of the underground compartment door, and the vibrations overhead ceased. The four men sat in the darkness, none of them moving.

After a long time, Nana said, "The external wind speed has dropped to three meters per second, the rain has stopped, and the structural alarm has been lifted."

No one responded.

She then said, "You can go out now."

Chen Hao sat leaning against the wall, his hand still in his pocket, feeling for the damp biscuit. He hadn't eaten it, he was just holding it. Hearing this, he pulled his hand out, patted his pants a couple of times, and stood up.

Let's go.

He fumbled for the doorknob and gave it a hard twist. The door jammed, as if it were rusted. Carl squeezed in from behind, and the two of them pushed together. The door creaked open a crack, letting in some light.

It was grayish-white, not very bright, but bright enough to see the road clearly.

The corridor was filled with mud and debris, and a section of the ceiling had collapsed, exposing the pipes inside. They walked forward, slipping on the overturned shelves. Nana walked in front, carrying a working flashlight, the beam sweeping across the floor and illuminating a bunch of twisted metal pieces.

“This is the ventilation panel in the main hall,” she said.

Chen Hao looked down and said, "It seems it has finally learned to fly."

No one laughed.

But they kept going.

The main hall door was half-open, blocked by something. Chen Hao kicked it hard, and the door bounced back after hitting the wall. The scene before him made him pause for a few seconds.

A large hole had been torn in the roof, and rain-soaked equipment was scattered all over the ground. Tables and chairs were overturned, and electrical wires were coiled like snakes in the ruins. In the direction of the generator room, half of the wall had collapsed, revealing the dark machinery inside.

“We spent ages fixing it…” Carl murmured, “but we still couldn’t save it.”

"The core has been saved." Nana walked to the monitoring console and turned on the backup power. The screen flickered and displayed some data: "The generator body is not damaged, the main control circuit shows signs of water ingress, but there is no short circuit or meltdown."

Susan walked in, leaning against the wall, and caught her breath: "At least it can still be fixed."

"It's good that it can be repaired." Chen Hao bent down to pick up a fallen circuit board, shook off the water, and said, "It's better than building it from scratch."

After he finished speaking, he threw the board into the box in the corner and casually opened the drawer—it was empty.

"Where are the supplies?"

“Over there.” Susan pointed to the small warehouse at the back. “I just passed by and took a look. The door wasn’t broken, and the things inside are still there.”

"That's good." Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief. "As long as the food wasn't washed away, I can still work."

He turned and walked towards the door: "Clear the passageway first. It's difficult to even walk in this place now, let alone do any work."

Nana nodded: "I suggest adopting a phased approach, prioritizing the opening of the main channels, and then sorting and collecting usable materials."

“You’re right.” Chen Hao grabbed a fallen beam and dragged it aside. “You go and remove those stuck metal sheets, I’ll carry the heavy ones. Susan will be in charge of registering the usable items, Carl, you go with her on errands, and keep an eye on her so she doesn’t get overworked.”

“I’m fine,” Susan said immediately.

“I know you’re alright,” Chen Hao said without looking up, “but I’m afraid you might suddenly collapse, and then I’ll have to carry you back.”

Carl grinned and took a notebook.

The cleanup has begun.

Chen Hao dragged the collapsed scaffolding to the corner, his clothes covered in mud. Nana used a robotic arm to dismantle the metal plate stuck in the window frame, her movements as steady as assembling building blocks. Susan squatted on the ground, rummaging through parts, writing and muttering as she did so: "Two power modules, intact; one set of wiring terminals, slightly corroded..."

Carl ran back and forth carrying the box, stopping midway to rub his right arm.

"Old injury flared up again?" Chen Hao noticed.

"It's a little sour," Carl said without elaborating.

"Then do something light." Chen Hao handed him a pair of pliers. "Go cut those loose wires, just don't touch anything that's live."

Around noon, the main passage was finally cleared. They gathered around a relatively intact table, eating dry rations.

"How much was lost?" Chen Hao asked.

Susan opened her notebook: "Grain reserves are down by 30%, mainly due to flooding in the lower-level warehouses. Most of the tools are still there, but a few sets were damaged and deformed. The communication antenna is broken, but the receiver is still usable."

"Where's the generator?"

"The outer casing is damaged and the cooling system is blocked, requiring cleaning and replacement of the seals."

Where is the control room?

"The circuit is damp and some interfaces are oxidized. It must be dried before restarting."

After listening, Chen Hao nodded: "It's not the worst. No one was injured, the core equipment wasn't destroyed, and not all the materials were lost."

“You’re quite optimistic.” Susan looked up at him.

"What if things aren't looking good?" Chen Hao took a bite of a compressed biscuit. "Lie down and cry? Tomorrow will be even worse."

Nana suddenly spoke up: "According to the post-disaster recovery process, the next step should be to carry out functional area reconstruction planning."

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao waved his hand. "Let's not use those fancy words yet. What we need to do now is make this place habitable, have electricity, and be able to cook."

“Agreed,” Carl said. “I want to take a shower now.”

“You can dream about anything.” Chen Hao stood up. “Let’s fix that hole in the roof first. Otherwise, if another light rain comes, we’ll have to hide underground again.”

They got back to work.

At 3 PM, the hole in the main hall's ceiling was temporarily covered with a waterproof tarpaulin and secured with a steel frame. The drainage ditch was also cleared and the silt removed. The water around the generator room had mostly drained, exposing the foundation underneath.

Chen Hao squatted down next to the machine and reached out to touch the outer casing: "Luckily, it's not cracked."

Nana stood aside checking the voltage: "The internal insulation value is normal. As long as it is cleaned, it can be tested."

"Let's get it done tonight." Chen Hao clapped his hands. "Let's try to get the power on by tomorrow morning."

Susan came out of the warehouse, carrying a stack of dry sealing strips: "These are still usable; they should be enough to replace the worn parts."

“Okay.” Chen Hao took it. “You and Nana will be in charge of repairing the main control circuit, and Karl and I will handle the cleaning of the generator components.”

"Are you sure you can disassemble precision parts?" Susan looked at him skeptically.

"I won't dismantle it," Chen Hao said honestly. "I'll just apply the mortar. Nana will handle the details."

Nana nodded: "I can provide instructions."

“Then you’re the teacher and I’m the student,” Chen Hao said with a smile. “Although I never listened in class before.”

As the sun began to set, the first round of cleanup was largely complete. An open space was cleared in the center of the main hall, and all usable supplies were piled up in a corner according to their categories. Severely damaged equipment was marked separately, in preparation for a further assessment to determine if repair was worthwhile.

The four people gathered in front of the monitoring console.

"To summarize," Chen Hao said, taking out a piece of paper with a handwritten list on it. "People are all alive. Food is about 70% complete. Electricity can be repaired. Housing is temporarily adequate. Communication is down, but the receiver can still pick up signals."

"Short-term survival conditions are met," Nana added.

"What about in the long term?" Susan asked.

"Long-term?" Chen Hao put the pen behind his ear. "Long-term depends on how fast we can be."

“The defensive measures did work.” Nana pulled up the data. “Although the building was severely damaged, the critical systems were reinforced in advance, so the damage rate was 62 percent lower than the average for similar facilities.”

"So, we've been working for nothing?" Karl said with a wry smile.

"It wasn't a waste of time," Chen Hao shook his head. "We were busy in the right place."

He paused, then continued, "If we hadn't reinforced the roof, the entire hall might have been blown up by now. If we hadn't raised the waterproof wall, the generator would have been shut down long ago. Those two days we spent fighting for it weren't a waste of time."

Susan looked at him: "When did you become so clear-headed?"

"You're most likely to be clear-headed when it's a matter of life and death." Chen Hao shrugged. "I'm lazy usually because I don't care, but now that I know my life is in my own hands, of course I have to be more serious."

"So you'll be just as serious in the future?" Carl asked.

Chen Hao thought for a moment: "I'll be serious until the next typhoon comes."

The three remained silent for a moment.

Then Susan laughed: "I'm really looking forward to it."

"No," Chen Hao waved his hand. "I'd rather there were never any typhoons."

As dusk approached, the last truckload of waste was delivered to the designated disposal site. They stood at the entrance to the main hall, watching the world outside, battered by the wind.

The trees were leaning precariously, and only a few posts remained of the fence in the distance. The sky was overcast, but there was no sign of rain.

"What's next?" Carl asked.

“Taking a bath is out of the question,” Chen Hao sighed. “But we can try turning on a light.”

He turned and walked back: "Nana, prepare to start the generator. Susan, check the main control circuit for any leakage risks. Carl, go and drag the spare fuel tank over."

Everyone went their own way.

Chen Hao walked to the control panel, wiped the dust off the panel, and pressed the start button.

The machine emitted a muffled hum, followed by a cough-like shudder.

It paused for a few seconds.

Then, the light flickered.

It wasn't destroyed.

It flashed again.

This time, the lights came on. One, two, the emergency lights in the corners lit up one after another, casting a dim yellow light on the faces of the four people.

"Is it connected?" Susan asked.

“It seems…” Chen Hao stared at the screen, “It’s really working.”

Nana checked the current reading: "Output is stable, load is normal. Basic power supply has been restored."

Chen Hao let out a long sigh and slid down against the wall: "At least we don't have to rely entirely on flashlights anymore."

He looked up at the patched waterproof tarpaulin on the ceiling and muttered, "Hopefully it doesn't leak."

As soon as he finished speaking, a drop of water landed on his forehead.