Chen Hao placed his backpack on the counter in the repair area, the metal casing making a dull thud. Ignoring the echo, he unzipped the backpack, took out the black circuit module, and set it aside. It was still flashing blue, like sleepy eyes.

"Leave it here for now," he said. "We'll look at it later."

Carl squatted in front of the energy module, tightening the last screw. He glanced up at Chen Hao: "Finished checking the materials?"

"Registered." Chen Hao walked over and patted the computer case. "Can it be turned on?"

“Give it a try.” Carl pressed the start button.

The screen lit up briefly, then a string of red text appeared, followed by an alarm. He immediately cut off the power, his brow furrowing deeply.

"It exploded again?" Chen Hao asked.

“It didn’t explode.” Karl opened the side cover and touched the heat sink. “It’s hot, but it didn’t explode. The main control valve is burnt out.”

Susan came over from the living area, a dirty glove draped over her shoulder. "What's wrong? Why did you call the police as soon as the power was turned on?"

"The part is broken." Chen Hao stared at the machine. "Which part is not working?"

Carl pointed to the disassembled interior: "This transmission component is broken. The burning smell is coming from here."

Nana's voice came from the direction of the console: "Diagnostic system connected, comparing parameters."

A few seconds later, she walked to the repair area, stood next to the equipment, glanced at it, and saw the data cable connected to the arm connector. Her gaze remained fixed on the screen.

"How so?" Chen Hao asked.

“Model number: T7-L type pressure-controlled actuator.” Nana withdrew her arm. “It’s a custom-made part from the old era, not a standard specification. There are no matching replacement parts in the base’s inventory.”

The scene fell silent for a moment.

"Does that mean we don't have this thing?" Susan said.

“Yes,” Nana nodded, “conventional repair methods are ineffective.”

Carl tossed the probe he was holding into the toolbox with a crisp sound. "So what do we do now? Stop? Wait for it to grow back on its own?"

“Nobody said we were going to stop production.” Chen Hao leaned against the computer case and tapped the casing with his fingers. “We’re just changing the method.”

"Do you have a spare?" Susan raised an eyebrow.

"No."

"Can you build one?"

"I don't know how to melt iron and cast molds either."

"Then why are you banging on the table?"

"I'm thinking." Chen Hao stopped what he was doing. "Don't interrupt my train of thought, my brain works slowly."

Nana pulled out a blueprint and projected it into the air. "According to the database, this part requires a precision lathe and titanium alloy base material to be manufactured, and the machining error must not exceed 0.03 millimeters."

“I don’t understand.” Karl waved his hand. “Speak human language.”

“It can’t be made.” Nana put away the projector. “Unless we find a scrapped piece of the same model to dismantle.”

"Or we could try making something similar ourselves," Chen Hao suddenly suggested.

"Almost?" Karl sneered. "This machine almost blew back into its original state of being just scrap."

“Then let’s be more precise.” Chen Hao looked at Nana. “Can you provide blueprints? Detailed down to each groove?”

“Yes,” Nana replied, “but I cannot guarantee the stability of the assembly by hand.”

“Nobody’s asking for 100% success.” Chen Hao bent down, picked up a piece of scrap metal, and weighed it in his hand. “Let’s make a prototype first. As long as it can rotate, that’s fine.”

Susan pulled a list from her pocket. "There are some scraps left over from dismantling old equipment in the repair area. There's a section of nickel steel shaft, about the diameter of which is..."

"Give it to me." Karl held out his hand.

She handed him a piece of paper and a small piece of metal. "The shaft isn't long enough; we need to add another section."

"I'll take it." Carl took it and measured it. "Something is better than nothing."

Nana then pulled up the manufacturing process sheet. "If local materials are used as substitutes, it is recommended to use a three-section welded structure with an insulation pad in the middle."

"Sounds like cooking," Chen Hao muttered.

“Similar,” Nana said emotionlessly. “Incorrect steps can lead to thermal deformation imbalance.”

“Understood.” Chen Hao straightened up. “Now, let’s divide the work. Carl will be in charge of assembling and testing. Susan will go find usable materials, the more the better. Nana will continue to check if there are any other devices that use the same parts, and disassemble them if possible.”

"And what about you?" Susan asked.

"Me?" Chen Hao patted his head. "The most tiring jobs are the ones that require thinking. I need to rest for a while."

"Stop playing dead." Carl tossed the tools onto the table. "You stay here and keep an eye on the progress, and hand me the wrench while you're at it."

"Alright then." Chen Hao sat down. "Anyway, I'm not going far."

Nana turned and returned to the console, reconnecting the data stream to the main system. She began scanning the entire base's equipment archives, searching for potentially matching older models. Page after page of the screen scrolled through, displaying only "incompatible" and "unrelated" messages.

Five minutes later, she stopped.

“Target located,” she said. “There is an old-model temperature control unit, model hV-9, with the same series of transmission components, in the abandoned warehouse in the East District.”

"It still works?" Chen Hao looked up.

"Unknown. The device has been without power for three years and has not been maintained."

“It’s better than nothing.” Chen Hao stood up. “Once we can’t get the prototype sorted out here, we’ll go and dismantle that one.”

Carl had already started cutting the metal shaft. "This thing will only last two hours at most."

"Two hours is enough to restart the system." Chen Hao watched him operate. "As long as we can hold out until the power is restored, the subsequent load can be transferred."

"The premise is that nothing else goes wrong elsewhere," Susan cautioned.

"When has it not collapsed while it was being repaired?" Chen Hao chuckled. "I'm used to it."

Time passed slowly. The maintenance light illuminated the three men's busy figures. Karl finished welding the first joint and sanded the edges. Sparks flew to the ground and quickly went out.

"Try it on," he said.

The semi-finished product was placed into the chassis, and the test power was connected. The screen lit up, and the red light continued to flash.

"Voltage is unstable." Nana monitored the data and found that "input fluctuations exceed the safety threshold."

“Again.” Carl unplugged the wire. “Add a current stabilizer.”

Susan then brought back a pile of odds and ends of metal parts and stacked them on the table. "These are all usable, at least in theory."

“Theory won’t save lives.” Karl rummaged through one of the copper pipes. “But we have to give it a try.”

On the third test, the screen finally displayed a green signal. A few seconds later, the machine hummed softly, and the fan began to spin.

"It's been transferred?" Chen Hao leaned closer to listen.

“It’s spinning.” Carl didn’t let up. “But I don’t know how long it will stay spinning.”

Nana reads the operating data. "The current output power is 67% of the rated value, the temperature continues to rise, and overheat protection is expected to be triggered within eight minutes."

“Eight minutes is enough,” Chen Hao decided. “Activate the main line first, and then get the other systems online.”

"So what do we do now?" Susan asked.

"Let's go both ways." Chen Hao glanced at the three of them. "Karl, continue optimizing this temporary component and try to extend its operating time. Susan, take some people to the East Warehouse and dismantle that hV-9 unit. Take as much as you can."

“I’ll go,” Carl said.

"You stay," Chen Hao shook his head. "We can't do without you here. Susan can take two technicians with her."

“You don’t trust me to do the work?” Carl glared.

“I trust you to do the work,” Chen Hao said, “but I don’t believe you won’t accidentally smash the equipment while moving things.”

“Ha,” Karl sneered, “You have quite a sense of humor.”

Nana then updated the task list. "hV-9 location marked, path unobstructed. Hydraulic shears and insulated sleeves recommended."

"I've got it." Susan began organizing her equipment bag.

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao suddenly remembered something, "We haven't figured out the source of the signal from that black module yet."

Nana looked at him. "The access control analysis is not yet complete; more data is needed."

"Leave it for now." Chen Hao stuffed the module into the drawer. "We'll deal with it after this is over."

Susan left with her tools. Only Chen Hao, Carl, and Nana remained in the repair area. The machine was still running, not loudly, but every vibration made everyone tense.

"Do you really think this thing can hold up?" Karl stared at the dashboard.

"I don't know," Chen Hao said, leaning against the wall. "But we have no choice."

"What if the parts we get back from disassembling don't work either?"

"Then let's think of another way."

"No solution is a panacea."

“But if we don’t take action, there’s nothing we can do.” Chen Hao looked up at him. “Don’t you think so?”

Carl didn't say anything, and continued adjusting the wiring with his head down.

Nana stood in front of the control panel, uploading the latest diagnostic report to the main database. Simultaneously, she started the manufacturing simulation program, preparing to provide parameter support for the next prototype.

The light shone on the four people, casting their shadows on the wall, crooked yet not scattered.

Chen Hao felt the key card in his pocket and suddenly said, "If we don't have the parts, we'll make one—or find one that can be disassembled."

After he finished speaking, no one responded.

The machine made a slight clicking sound, as if a gear had meshed into place.

Carl looked up and glanced at the screen.

The green light is still on.