Drip, drip, drip.

Three short beeps, exactly the same as before.

Chen Hao stared at the control panel, his finger still resting on the hot water button. Steam rose from the cup, and the water rippled gently.

He didn't move or speak, but just watched as the system log on the screen refreshed and displayed a line of text: Self-test complete, verification signal generated.

“Here we go again,” he said.

Nana stood in front of the terminal, blue light swirling in her eyes. "Eighteenth record. Stable frequency, no abnormal fluctuations."

"So you mean our broken system is actually quite energetic?" Karl straightened up from the wall. "It's about to leave right after the meeting; it's more proactive than me."

Susan closed the last report in her hand and glanced at the wall clock. "Two hours until the scheduled dive time."

"That's enough." Chen Hao put down his cup. "Let's go to the equipment depot. Time to get to work."

No one objected. The four turned and went out, the corridor lights lighting up section by section in rhythm with their footsteps.

---

In the equipment room, diving suits are neatly hung on racks, helmets facing outwards, like a row of silent guards.

Chen Hao walked to his seat and reached out to touch the shoulder connector. The metal was a little cool, but the seal was intact.

"Start the linkage test," he said.

Nana stood in front of the main control panel and tapped her finger lightly. The holographic interface unfolded, and six data streams scrolled simultaneously.

Oxygen circulation, pressure balance, propulsion response, communication delay, temperature control feedback, energy output—all are green lights.

"The basic tests have passed," she said.

Carl squatted down next to his thruster, unscrewing the casing to check the wiring. "Is that vibration problem really fixed? I don't want to be chased by a swarm of glowing jellyfish again."

“The shielding layer has been thickened.” Chen Hao handed over a new part. “It’s made of the same silver-gray metal that was dug out in Chapter 677. It’s welded shut and can’t be taken apart.”

“That’s good.” Carl took the parts. “If there are any more problems, I’ll say you installed them.”

“Sure,” Chen Hao laughed. “When you write your will, you should mention: ‘Died from Chen Hao’s clumsy hand.’”

Susan was checking the camera module. She took out the memory card and inserted it into the reader, and the image popped up—it was the blue-light biome filmed in the previous round, slowly rotating, with the light flickering.

“You have to include this part,” she said. “They’re not flashing randomly; they follow a pattern.”

"Don't let them think that if we sneeze, it's a signal to start a war," Karl muttered.

Nana pulled up the thruster response curve. "The current average response delay is 0.18 seconds, which is within the normal range under deep-sea high-pressure simulation conditions."

“0.18 is not small.” Chen Hao frowned. “If we encounter a rapid current or an emergency, we could hit a wall in the blink of an eye.”

He pressed the replay button and brought up the waveform of the ticking sound he had just heard.

“Let’s use this as a benchmark,” he said. “If the system can detect sound, it means the logic chain isn’t broken. As long as all devices can know they’re still alive, just like it does, then there’s no problem.”

While changing the sealing ring, Carl said, "You're making it sound so real. Can this thing even have self-awareness?"

“If it really wakes up, the first thing it will do is resign.” Chen Hao patted the computer case. “Who wants to go diving with you every day?”

Nana didn't refute, but silently switched the test program to extreme mode.

Start-up under a triple-effect environment of high pressure, low temperature, and strong current.

The alarm light flashed once and then returned to normal.

All devices remain online.

“Passed,” she said.

---

After leaving the equipment depot, the four went to the training room.

After the door closed, the air became quiet.

“We need to perform a status calibration,” Nana said.

"Another meditation?" Karl shrugged. "Last time I closed my eyes for five minutes, and when I woke up I found you all drooling over me."

“This time is different.” Nana opened the psychological adjustment module. “The goal is to confirm whether everyone’s stress threshold is within a controllable range.”

Susan sat in the chair, her fingertips slightly clenched. "Lately, I've been dreaming about being trapped."

"Be more specific," Nana asked.

“I was in a cave, surrounded by rocks, and I couldn’t get out.” Susan looked down at her hands. “Every time I was about to wake up, I felt like someone was knocking on the wall.”

“I know that feeling,” Chen Hao suddenly said.

Everyone was looking at him.

“The night before my first dive, I hid in the bathroom and took half a bottle of sedatives,” he said. “I was afraid that my legs would be too weak to run after I went down, and that I would slow you down.”

Carl was stunned. "You've done something like that?"

"Why don't you say I'm scared too?" Chen Hao shrugged. "Fat people are most afraid of getting stuck in narrow passages, and there's no way to get them out."

No one laughed.

After a few seconds, Carl said in a low voice, "Actually... I check the oxygen valve three times before every trip. Even if I know there's nothing wrong, I still have to check it."

"So you were joking just now?" Susan asked.

“I’m more nervous when I don’t joke around,” he said. “The more I talk, the busier my mind is, and the less I think about random things.”

Nana initiated the synchronized breathing program. A low-frequency prompt sounded in the room, guiding the four people to adjust their breathing rhythm.

Three minutes later, brainwave monitoring showed that everyone had entered a stable range.

“Let’s set a rule,” Chen Hao said. “Anyone who feels something is wrong can just call a halt. No need for explanations, no need to save face.”

“Yellow light protocol.” Susan nodded.

“Yes.” Chen Hao held out his hand. “It doesn’t matter who shouts first.”

Susan placed her hand on it.

Carl hesitated for a moment, then placed it on as well.

Nana was the last to join.

"It's not really a handshake," Chen Hao said. "It's more of a rustic ceremony."

“It’s better than a meeting,” Carl said.

---

Back at the starting area, the four sets of equipment were already neatly arranged.

Chen Hao filled four cups with hot water from the water dispenser and handed them over one by one.

"The last bite of something hot," he said. "After that, it'll be days of cold soup and rice."

Susan took the cup and blew on it.

Carl took a sip and winced as it burned his lips. "You're making it sound like we're going to war."

“That’s how it is.” Chen Hao looked at them. “Every time we go down, it’s a new experience.”

Nana stood in front of the hatch, and the aircraft trembled slightly, as if checking its final condition.

"The communication network is online, vital signs monitoring is synchronized, and the equipment is 100% healthy," she said.

Chen Hao put his cup on the table and picked up his helmet.

Others started wearing it too.

With a click, the sound of oxygen circulation starting up rang out.

The helmet closed, and the lights turned on one by one.

The red light turns green, and the gate unlocks.

Chen Hao stood at the front, gazing at the dark waters outside the elevator platform.

“We don’t have to find something to be considered successful,” he said. “As long as we can come back, that’s a win.”

No one responded.

The four walked side by side toward the platform, their footsteps echoing heavily on the metal plate.

The water rippled slightly, reflecting the overhead lights.

The elevator door closed slowly.

Chen Hao raised his right hand and pressed it next to the start button.

His fingers fell.