Nana's voice rang out in the laboratory: "Remote signal interrupted."

Chen Hao stared at the screen, his finger still hovering over the start button. The device was still running, the lights flashing rapidly, the vibration platform emitting a low hum, the temperature control chamber's alarm had stopped, but the ore sample was still glowing.

“It’s broken,” Susan said. “Not weakened, it’s completely gone.”

Carl shifted in the medical chair, trying to stand up while holding onto the armrests, then slowly lowered himself back down. "Did we... touch something we shouldn't have?"

No one answered.

A few seconds later, Chen Hao lifted his hand from the button, turned around, walked to the main control panel, and plopped down in a chair. "Regardless of whether it's broken or not, we need to see if we can get it working again."

"You mean, not the one outside?" Susan asked.

“Yes.” Chen Hao looked up. “We’ve been trying to recreate the situation in the wild and follow its rhythm. Now that it’s not providing it, we’ll have to do it ourselves. As long as this rock can still generate electricity, it doesn’t matter whether it’s there or not.”

Nana slightly turned the camera and said in a steady voice: "I suggest switching to local closed-loop monitoring mode to block external interference sources and recalibrate the triple stimulation parameters."

"Do as you say." Chen Hao nodded. "Don't worry about whether there's a heartbeat in the distance, just stabilize the machines here first."

Nana began operating the system. The data stream on the screen scrolled rapidly, old connection records were closed one by one, and new local acquisition channels were established. She reduced the light frequency to once every 1.5 seconds, lowered the vibration platform to 120 times per minute, adjusted the temperature difference back to 10 degrees, and restored the humidity to a controllable range.

"System reboot complete," she said. "Ready to conduct low-intensity testing."

“Come on.” Chen Hao held out his hand. “Let’s keep a low profile this time, so as not to scare it away.”

The lights came on, a vibration was felt, and the temperature control box started up again. Ten seconds later, fluorescence appeared, and a blue-white light enveloped the ore container.

"Current 0.23 millivolts, steadily rising." Susan looked at the reading. "Temperature locally increased by 0.6 degrees, magnetic field signal reappeared."

“The synchronization rate cannot be calculated,” Nana said, “but the local energy conversion has been confirmed to be activated.”

"Did it work?" Karl asked softly.

"Not yet." Chen Hao shook his head. "It can move, but that doesn't mean it's usable. What we need is stable output, not erratic discharge."

He stood up, walked to the lab bench, picked up the record board, and glanced at the previous parameter table. "Add a little more. Adjust the light intensity to once per second, increase the vibration, and maximize the temperature difference."

“Risk warning,” Nana said, “The sample is still under high-risk stress.”

“I know.” Chen Hao threw his pen on the table. “But ever since we entered this hellhole, haven’t we been walking on the edge of the law every single day? Now that we can see the light, you’re still telling me to slowly feel my way around?”

Susan sighed: "Then at least let me double the monitoring frequency, so I can stop it immediately if there's a problem."

“Okay.” Chen Hao laughed. “You’re in charge of saving lives, and I’ll be in charge of risking my life.”

A new set of parameters was loaded. Chen Hao pressed the start button.

The device roared. The lights flickered faster, the vibrating platform shook violently, and the floor could be felt shaking throughout the entire laboratory.

Fifteen seconds later, the fluorescence did not weaken; instead, it became brighter. The ammeter needle jumped to 0.4 millivolts and remained stable.

“Stable output.” Susan stared at the screen. “It has been running continuously for thirty seconds.”

"Continue." Chen Hao's eyes didn't leave the monitor.

In twenty seconds, the current rose to 0.5 millivolts. In thirty seconds, the magnetic field range expanded to twelve centimeters. In forty seconds, the temperature control system automatically alarmed, indicating an abnormal increase in the air temperature around the sample.

“There is significant internal heat buildup,” Susan said, “but the structure is free of cracks and the material integrity remains intact.”

Fifty seconds, sixty seconds.

A notification pops up on the main screen: [Energy output continuous operation meets target: 60 seconds]

"It's done!" Susan jumped to her feet. "It really can hold on by itself!"

“More than that.” Nana pulled up the graph. “The current energy conversion efficiency has reached the upper limit of the design estimate. The system has no structural damage and can maintain the current output level indefinitely.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a loud shout erupted in the laboratory.

"Holy crap! That's really good!" Chen Hao slammed his fist on the table, almost knocking the record board off.

Susan burst out laughing and turned to hug Nana beside her. The robot paused for a moment, its optical lens flickered slightly, then gently raised its robotic arm and patted her back.

"You two are crazy!" Susan said, laughing. "You actually figured out a rock!"

Carl struggled to sit up, one hand gripping the back of the chair, the other raised in a fist. "Hey—don't forget me! I was the one who found the first piece of ore!"

Susan immediately ran over to help him up. "You sit still!" she scolded, but her face was full of smiles.

Chen Hao walked to the center and held up the record board in his hand. "Listen, this isn't just my experiment. It was Nana's knowledge base that risked explosions to look up information, it was Susan who kept a close eye on every set of data to ensure there were no mistakes, and it was Karl who risked his life to smash through the sand beast to get this stone. The four of us, not one of us can be missing."

"You're giving a speech," Susan said, wiping her eyes. "Just don't use such alarming parameters next time."

“That won’t do.” Chen Hao grinned. “This is just the beginning. If it can produce 0.6 millivolts today, it needs to produce 1.0 tomorrow. Our goal is not to light up a single lamp, but to make the entire base use its own electricity.”

"You want to raise the stakes?" Susan glared.

“Of course,” Chen Hao said, pointing to the ore. “It didn’t collapse, which means it can hold up. What are we afraid of?”

Nana suddenly spoke up: "A slight energy fluctuation was detected. It is not an external input, but rather originates from the sample's own regulatory mechanism."

"What do you mean?" Chen Hao leaned closer.

“It’s adapting to our stimuli,” Nana said. “Like… it’s learned how to respond.”

"Learn?" Susan frowned. "You mean it has a logic for responding?"

“Currently, it exhibits a conditioned reflex response,” Nana analyzed, “but its complexity is higher than that of ordinary mineral resonances.”

"Who cares if it learns or not?" Chen Hao waved his hand. "As long as it's willing to generate electricity, it can learn as much as it wants."

He turned to the three men: "We now have a glowing stone, a shabby machine to control it, and a lab that wasn't blown up. The next step is to let more people know what we've done."

"Are you going to report this?" Carl asked.

“We have to go for it.” Chen Hao nodded. “This kind of thing can’t be kept secret, and we can’t expect to keep it all to ourselves. But we need to set the tone first—this isn’t luck, it’s skill. It’s a path we’ve fought our way through.”

Susan leaned against the terminal, shaking her head with a smile: "You're usually incredibly lazy, but once you get into research, you're like you've been injected with adrenaline."

“That’s because there was no hope in normal times,” Chen Hao shrugged. “Now it’s different. We have something in our hands that can change our fate.”

"Furthermore," Nana added, "according to the remaining records in the database, similar structures have been found seven times in the deep crust, all of which were determined to be inert ore bodies because they could not be activated. This experiment proves that its activation depends on a combination of complex environmental stimuli."

“In other words,” Susan continued, “the people before didn’t fail to find it, they simply didn’t know how to use it.”

“Right.” Chen Hao laughed. “They used hammers to break it, while we used a rice cooker to stew it. The method was wrong, so of course they thought it was waste rock.”

Carl gripped the packaged sample tightly in his hand and said in a low voice, "So, does this mean we've... made a start?"

“This is more than just the beginning.” Chen Hao looked at the stable waveform on the screen. “This is the first well that has been drilled. Whether or not we need to lay pipelines afterwards depends entirely on us.”

The laboratory fell silent for a moment.

Then Susan suddenly said, "So, shouldn't we give this thing a proper name? We can't keep calling it 'solar cooker' forever."

"Why not?" Chen Hao feigned ignorance. "It's more down-to-earth."

“It’s too shabby,” she said. “At least it’s a new energy hub.”

“How about calling it ‘Star Core’?” Karl suggested.

"Too childish." Susan shook her head.

“‘Crystal Energy Unit’?” Nana suggested.

"It's too much like an instruction manual." Chen Hao waved his hand.

“Let’s call it ‘Little Blue’,” Susan suddenly said. “It glows blue, it’s small, and you’re always messing with it.”

"Okay." Chen Hao laughed. "From now on, any overtime work will be blamed on it. Just say that Xiao Lan isn't feeling well and needs some adjustment."

“Then you have to pay it a salary,” Susan retorted.

The group burst into laughter.

Nana silently archived all the data, naming the folder "New Energy - Phase One". The system backend marked the next experimental steps as suggested: expand the light spectrum, increase the combination of variables, and test the multi-sample linkage effect.

Chen Hao stood in front of the lab bench, holding the first complete printed report in his hand; the pages still held the warmth of the printer. He looked down at it, then looked up at the still-glowing ore.

“We’ve endured so much,” he said. “It’s finally not all for nothing.”

Susan leaned against the terminal and whispered to Carl, "When you can walk again, I'll take you into the lab first."

Carl nodded, clutching the sealed sample tightly in his hand.

Nana's camera panned slightly, capturing the moment.

Under the light, four figures surrounded the experimental table. The instruments hummed softly, the current was stable, and the waveform line on the screen jumped smoothly and powerfully.

Like a heartbeat.

Like breathing.

It's like something is constantly running.