The lab lights were still on, and the crystal lay quietly in the reaction chamber, its blue light so stable it seemed to be asleep. Chen Hao leaned back in his chair, pen in hand, and drew a smiley face in his notebook, writing "4.7" next to it.

He didn't sleep well last night, but he didn't feel tired. He got up early this morning and rushed into the lab without even eating breakfast, just to see if this thing could keep going.

As a result, it held up.

But then a problem arose.

"Stuck again?" Susan walked over and glanced at the monitor. The numbers hadn't changed since morning, as if they were nailed to the ground.

“It’s not stuck, it’s reached its limit.” Chen Hao put down his pen. “The stable output we worked so hard to achieve yesterday, we tried it eight times today, and the highest it got was still 4.7. If we increase the temperature and pressure any further, it starts to shake, and the alarm goes off like a cafeteria bell.”

Nana stood by the control panel, the camera slightly rotating: "Based on the current extraction model, the theoretical limit of energy conversion rate under existing conditions is 4.75 units. In actual operation, due to equipment wear and tear, the possibility of exceeding this limit is less than 3%."

“In other words, I can’t keep going.” Carl leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “I was too happy about it last night.”

"It's not that we can't do it." Chen Hao scratched his head. "We've taken the first step, now we just... need to take a detour."

"How do we turn?" Susan asked.

“Add something,” he said. “It’s like adding salt to cook noodles or adding oil to start a fire. This thing is just dry-burning right now; we need a catalyst to speed it up.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Nana brought up the database page: "It is recommended to use zirconium-titanium composite grains as a catalytic medium, which can improve the efficiency of electron transition and reduce resonance damping."

"That sounds pretty far-fetched." Karl frowned. "Do we even have such a thing?"

Susan turned and walked to the materials cabinet, opened the registration form, glanced at it, and her expression changed: "Inventory: 0.3 grams."

"Enough for one experiment?" Chen Hao asked.

“Not enough.” She closed the notebook. “The standard dosage is 0.5 grams, but this calibration test used 0.2 grams. The rest is only enough for a half-baked experiment.”

“Then let’s harvest another batch,” Chen Hao said immediately. “We know what it looks like anyway, so let’s just dig it up.”

Carl shook his head: "The last collection point was on the edge of 30 degrees north latitude, a round trip of 140 kilometers, and the road was full of sand gullies and faults. Moreover, the weather data showed that a strong sandstorm system would be approaching in the next 48 hours, so going there would be tantamount to suicide."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Chen Hao shrugged. "Wait for the wind to stop? Wait for it to grow back on its own?"

“We could try alternative materials,” Susan suggested. “For example, yttrium oxide or boron nitride. Although they have different structures, they both have catalytic activity.”

Nana quickly searched and responded: "No matching record found in the database. The catalytic efficiency of the above materials approaches zero in similar silicon-based systems and may trigger uncontrollable side reactions."

"Then it's all for nothing," Chen Hao sighed. "We have no choice but to go and find them."

“It’s not a question of whether we can find them,” Carl said, staring at him. “It’s a question of whether it’s worth the risk. We’ve got results now, at least proving this path is viable. If we go out and everyone dies, who will continue?”

The air suddenly felt heavy.

Chen Hao didn't refute, but walked to the star map, swiped his finger across the screen a few times, and marked three new coordinates.

“Geological scans show that these three sites have similar mineral sedimentary features. The closest one is only 60 kilometers away from the base, and a round trip in a day is more than enough.”

"Has it not been verified in the field?" Susan asked.

“No,” he admitted. “But it’s better than just sitting here watching it sluggish. We already know how to wake it up and how to keep it stable. All we need now is a final push. Once we get the materials, we can increase the output and maybe even reduce the size of the equipment, so we won’t have to fight over spare modules every day anymore.”

Susan paused for a moment, then nodded: "I can streamline the collection process to ensure that the sampling is standardized."

“I’ll check the equipment,” Carl finally relented, “but it must meet weather resistance standards; protective suits, communication devices, and navigation beacons are all essential.”

"Where's Nana?" Chen Hao asked the robot.

“The path risk assessment model has been updated,” she said. “Based on a combination of topography, climate and energy consumption calculations, the optimal window is from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. tomorrow. If we miss it, we will have to wait 72 hours for the next low-risk period.”

"It's settled then." Chen Hao made the decision. "Suspend all extraction experiments and prioritize material replenishment. Conduct short-range emergency collection, targeting the nearest ore vein, and aim to return within a day."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a sharp alarm suddenly sounded from the main control terminal.

A red notification box popped up: [Abnormal humidity in the catalyst storage chamber, sample crystallization deterioration, usable quantity updated to 0.15 grams]

"What's going on?" Susan walked over quickly.

"The sealing layer is aging, and the alternating hot and cold temperatures at night cause condensation inside." Nana checked the log. "The degradation occurred at 3:17 a.m., and the system failed to respond in time."

"So..." Karl sneered, "we can't even conduct half an experiment right now?"

"To be precise," Nana added, "it's only enough to maintain basic calibration, not enough to support any substantial testing."

Chen Hao stood still and glanced at the time.

10:23 AM.

He turned to look at everyone: "Then there's even less time to hesitate. The original plan remains unchanged, but the operation will be moved forward. We'll prepare tonight and set off tomorrow morning."

No one objected.

Susan immediately returned to her seat to organize the sampling container list, listing each tool, noting its purpose and quantity. Carl opened his backpack and began checking his protective gear, replacing the old batteries with new ones. Nana connected to the navigation system, replanned the route, and marked possible safe havens along the way.

Chen Hao wasn't idle either.

He pulled out his notebook from the last field survey, flipping through it page by page until he found the topographical sketch he had drawn. He compared it with the star map to check if he had missed any shortcuts. Halfway through, he suddenly chuckled.

"What's wrong?" Susan looked up.

“I’m thinking,” he said. “When I failed exams before, my teachers said I was incredibly lazy. Now, however, I can spend half an hour studying a map just to save ten minutes of walking.”

"So you've reformed now?" Karl asked without looking up.

"I'm not turning over a new leaf," Chen Hao said seriously. "I'm being forced into this. Before, if I failed a course, I could just retake it. But now, if we can't handle this, we'll all starve."

"It's not like you're being particularly diligent these days," Susan muttered under her breath.

“This is a strategic investment for me,” he said confidently. “Look, I didn’t even have breakfast, all to save time.”

“You overslept,” Carl said.

"The details aren't important," Chen Hao waved his hand. "The important thing is that we're about to set off."

Time passed little by little.

No one ate lunch properly; everyone was busy packing things up.

By 3 p.m., all preparations were basically complete.

The sampling tools were packed into a sealed package, the power drill was fully charged, and the communicator underwent three tests to confirm a stable signal. Nana imported the latest navigation data into each person's handheld terminal, and even added a reminder for Chen Hao—because he had almost dropped his equipment into a sandpit last time.

At 6 p.m., Chen Hao did a final check of his backpack.

Water bottle, dry food, backup power supply, first aid kit, gloves, face mask... everything is ready.

He stood up, walked to the control panel, turned off the star map projection, and then glanced at the reaction chamber.

The blue light was still flashing, and the rhythm was steady.

“Wait for us to come back,” he said to the rock. “Don’t let us travel dozens of kilometers and find that you’ve evolved on your own here.”

No one responded.

He knew it was a silly thing to say, but if he didn't say anything, he would feel even more suffocated.

Susan put the last sampling container into her bag, zipped it up, and handed it to Carl. The two checked the list to make sure everything was correct.

Karl slung the drill bit over his shoulder, the metal support making a slight clicking sound. He flexed his wrists, walked over to Chen Hao, and patted him on the shoulder.

“Let’s go,” he said, “before it gets dark.”

Chen Hao nodded and picked up his bag.

Nana's machine made a soft beep, switched to standby follow mode, and slightly adjusted the camera to lock onto the exit of the corridor ahead.

The four walked out of the laboratory one by one, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

As they passed through the central control area, the lights flickered as they went past the energy room door.

Chen Hao stopped in his tracks.

"What?" Susan asked.

"The light," he said, "flickered just now."

“Voltage fluctuations.” Carl glanced at the distribution box. “The backup power is switching too frequently, and the lines can’t handle it.”

Are you alright?

"It won't affect us for now," he said. "But if this continues, the entire district will experience a power outage in less than three days."

Chen Hao didn't say anything more, but just glanced back at the spherical monitor.

The numbers on the screen are changing: temperature 23.4°C, humidity 61%, atmospheric pressure 1.02 standard units.

Everything is normal.

But he always felt that something was wrong.

They continued walking forward and arrived at the base's exit corridor.

The door was still closed, and outside lay a desolate wasteland that was gradually darkening.

The wind wasn't strong, but it had already started to stir up fine sand, which rustled against the metal exterior walls.

Nana stood by the door and started scanning the external environment.

“The surface wind speed is five meters per second and visibility is good,” she said. “No extreme weather is expected within the next two hours.”

“That means you can walk,” Chen Hao said.

“We can set off now,” Nana confirmed. “The mission status has been updated to ‘material gathering,’ and the navigation route has been synchronized.”

Susan checked the zipper of the sealed bag one last time to make sure there was no air leakage. Carl clipped the communicator to his chest, pressed the test button, and heard a clear response from the other end.

Everyone is ready.

Chen Hao stood at the front, one hand resting on the door control button.

He took a deep breath and was about to press the button.

Just then, a series of rapid beeps came from the direction of the main control panel.

Immediately afterwards, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: [Warning: Foreign object movement detected in the ventilation ducts of the East Zone. Relevant personnel are requested to investigate immediately.]

“What the hell?” Karl frowned.

“It’s probably a rat,” Susan said. “We found bite marks over there last time.”

"Where did these rats come from?" Chen Hao muttered.

“Whatever it is,” Carl said, “take care of it before you leave, don’t leave any potential problems.”

Chen Hao hesitated for a moment, then released the button and turned to look at the end of the passage.

The lighting was dim, the corridor stretched straight ahead, and the maintenance door at the end was ajar.

He took out his flashlight and turned it on.

When the beam of light shone through, something seemed to reflect light through the crack in the door.

It's neither metal nor plastic.

It looks like a piece of sharded glass.

But he remembers it very clearly.

The door was locked before we closed last night.