As soon as the message about the signal interruption of the fourth unit of the detector array popped up, Karl pressed the restart button.

Five seconds later, the green light came on, and he breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look at Chen Hao.

"This time there won't be any problems."

Chen Hao neither laughed nor replied. He simply stared at the detector's casing for two seconds before reaching out and tapping it.

The sound was solid.

But everyone knows that the pressure at 12,300 meters cannot be measured by simply knocking on it a couple of times.

Susan stood up from the terminal and saved the last energy fluctuation record to the archive. She didn't turn off the screen; the data curve was still slowly climbing, with a small peak every forty-seven seconds, like a rhythmic breathing pattern.

Nana stood in the corner, her eyes gleaming slightly, the background program still running environment simulation. Her voice was steady: "I suggest a secondary reinforcement of the seams of the diving suit. The current coating's compressive strength limit is 12,500 meters, which is insufficient."

“Then let’s add another layer,” Chen Hao said. “It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve gone to sea wearing tin cans.”

Carl had already opened the toolbox and taken out a tube of metal-resin mixture. He walked to the testing stand and unfolded a folded deep-sea diving suit. The silver-gray outer layer gleamed coldly, and there were fine lines at the joints, like old scars.

He examined the seam with a magnifying glass, and his brows slowly furrowed.

“There’s something wrong here,” he said. “Stress cracks, small, but in a critical location.”

Chen Hao leaned closer to take a look. The crack was hidden below the scapular connecting ring, less than two millimeters long, and almost invisible to the naked eye.

"Can it be repaired?"

“We need to reinforce it with rare metal powder,” Carl said. “Ordinary glue won’t work.”

Nana immediately retrieved the material plan from the database. "It is recommended to use a mixture of titanium-tungsten alloy powder and nano-resin, with a curing time of three minutes. The operating window is short, and it must be completed in one go."

“You write the recipe, I’ll do the work,” Chen Hao said, rolling up his sleeves. “I’m a steady hand anyway.”

“Last time you said you had a steady hand, you turned the oxygen valve into a tight knot,” Carl reminded him.

"That was an accident," Chen Hao denied. "Besides, it was fixed later."

Susan didn't join the banter; instead, she opened the equipment list and checked each item one by one. Oxygen circulation system, thruster power, communication frequency band, emergency lighting, backup battery pack... every item was checked off.

She scrolled to the psychological support section and paused for a moment.

"We are not mentally prepared."

"What's there to prepare?" Chen Hao said while stirring the metal paste. "Go down and take a look, take some photos, come back and write a report, and collect the bonus."

“You’re running away.” Susan looked at him. “You checked the backpack straps three times and repeatedly checked the communication frequency. This isn’t a habit; it’s anxiety.”

Chen Hao paused for a moment.

“I know it’s dark down there, and I know something bad might happen,” he said. “But I don’t show it, so you can work in peace.”

“Emotional suppression can impair judgment,” Nana interjected. “According to database records, 68 percent of errors in deep-sea missions stem from commanders’ excessive hidden psychological burden.”

"So?" Chen Hao looked up. "You're going to give me some psychological counseling?"

“No need,” Nana said. “We can do short-term sensory deprivation training to build up a basic tolerance threshold.”

"It sounds like they're going to lock someone in a dark room," Carl muttered.

“It’s like being locked in a dark room,” Susan said. “But I support it. I once heard a voice that wasn’t there when I was diving at 8,000 meters. It was like someone was talking in my ear. I almost triggered an emergency ascent.”

“Hallucinations are common,” Nana nodded. “Darkness, high pressure, and loneliness combined cause the brain to fill in the information gaps on its own. The goal of training is not to eliminate the reaction, but to teach the body to recognize and stabilize it.”

Chen Hao applied the prepared metal paste to the cracks very slowly.

"Does that mean we're going to experience what it feels like to go crazy beforehand?"

"Pretty much," Susan said. "And then learn not to trust your eyes and ears."

Ten minutes later, the closed training pod was ready.

This is a cylindrical metal cabin with no internal light source, only large enough for one person to stand in. Once the door is closed, all outside noise is completely cut off.

Carl was the first to go in.

The hatch closed, and the external monitoring screen lit up with vital signs data. Heart rate, respiration, and brain waves were all within the normal range.

Two minutes later, the lights began to dim.

Three minutes later, the background white noise gradually turned off.

In the fourth minute, the cabin became completely quiet.

Thirty seconds later, Karl's heart rate rose to fifteen beats per minute.

Within one minute, the breathing rate increased.

Two minutes later, his right hand began to twitch slightly.

Nana gave the command through her earpiece: "Karl, report how you feel right now."

“…It’s dark.” His voice was a little hoarse. “It’s too quiet. I can hear myself swallowing.”

"Continue describing."

"It felt like I was buried in the mud at the bottom of the sea, unable to move or shout. I... I felt like there was someone behind me."

“Nobody’s here,” Nana said. “That’s a normal reaction. You’re safe now, the equipment is working, and your teammates are listening. Repeat: I’m safe now.”

Carl took a breath: "I'm... safe now."

He repeated it twice more, his voice gradually becoming calmer.

Five minutes later, the lights came back on and the hatch opened.

Carl came out with sweat on his forehead, but his complexion was better than when he went in.

"It was easier than I expected," he said. "At least I didn't see any ghosts."

Susan was the second to go in.

Her process was smoother until the fourth minute, when her brain waves showed a brief abnormal fluctuation.

She suddenly spoke up: "Mom?"

Everyone was stunned.

Nana immediately intervened: "Susan, your mother isn't here. You're at the base now, undergoing psychological adaptation training. State your name and location."

Susan blinked: "Susan, in the control area, inside the training pod."

She didn't say anything after she came out; she just took a sip of water.

“I haven’t thought about her in a long time,” she said. “When I was little, she would always wake me up at night to look at the stars. I thought… there would be light down there too.”

No one responded.

When it was Chen Hao's turn, he had already taken off his coat.

“Don’t expect me to talk in my sleep.” He climbed into the cabin. “If I call out someone’s name, it’s because they owe me money.”

The hatch closed.

Darkness descends.

He started humming a song, but then he stopped.

After three minutes, my breathing became heavy.

Four minutes later, the muscles in my left leg tightened.

Nana observed the changes in the data and found that his brain waves showed low-frequency oscillations, similar to the REm sleep stage.

She asked into the earpiece, "Chen Hao, where are you right now?"

Five seconds of silence.

“I’m taking an exam,” he said. “The math paper has been handed out, and I don’t know how to do any of the questions. The proctor is the principal, and he’s standing behind me and won’t move.”

The monitor smiled.

Nana continued, "What else did you see?"

"There was a question on the blackboard that said 'coordinates of the ruins,' but I couldn't understand the symbols. I wanted to raise my hand, but I couldn't. I wanted to call for help, but my throat felt blocked."

“You are not an examinee now,” Nana said. “You are the mission commander. State your identity.”

Chen Hao took a deep breath: "I am Chen Hao. I am the head of the deep-sea exploration team. I can decide when to dive and when to return."

His heartbeat slowly subsided.

Five minutes later, the hatch opened.

He came out and rubbed his face.

“This thing is really weird,” he said. “I thought I had long forgotten about that exam.”

“Nobody really forgets,” Susan said. “They just don’t think about it normally.”

Nana pulled up the data reports for the three people and quickly analyzed them.

"All members experienced initial stress reactions, but successfully self-regulated with guidance. A baseline of psychological tolerance has been established, and it is recommended that no further training be conducted before departure."

“Then let’s stop practicing.” Carl stretched his shoulders. “I don’t want to hear myself swallowing anymore.”

Chen Hao walked to the main control panel and pulled up the equipment inspection checklist.

Check all the boxes.

The diving suit has been repaired and tested for leaks without any issues.

The oxygen system is at full capacity, and the backup power supply is activated.

The thruster calibration is complete, and the maximum thrust has been achieved.

Communication channel locked, encryption protocol enabled.

He read through them one by one, and finally opened the task objective interface.

On the screen, the red circle deep in the South Pacific Ocean remains prominent.

Origin Point -01.

There is something "breathing" down there.

He turned and picked up his backpack, checking the internal medicine pouch. Susan had just refilled it with tranquilizers and nerve stabilizers.

"Do you really think we need this?" he asked.

“We might not need it,” Susan said, “but we should bring it with us.”

Carl patted the probe backpack and said softly, "This time, there's really no problem."

Nana stood beside the terminal, her blue pupils flickering slightly, as she entered standby monitoring mode.

The four people stood together, surrounding the main control panel.

Chen Hao cleared his throat.

"Objective: Reach Origin Point-01, confirm the status of the ruins entrance, collect preliminary data, and return safely. Understand?"

"clear."

"Emergency plan activation conditions: communication interruption for more than three minutes, or abnormal vital signs for more than sixty seconds. If triggered, return to base immediately without hesitation."

"receive."

“We’re not going treasure hunting,” Chen Hao said, looking at them. “We’re going to see what those people who wrote star maps in the darkness actually left behind.”

No one spoke.

The atmosphere became somber.

Susan nodded.

Carl gripped the backpack strap tightly.

Nana's eyes gleamed slightly, while the data stream continued to run in the background.

Chen Hao took one last look at the red circle on the screen.

He raised his hand and pressed the confirmation button for departure preparation.

A system notification sounded:

[All personnel status: Ready]

[Equipment Status: Ready]

[Mission Countdown: Awaiting Instructions]

The lights in the control room flickered suddenly.