Carl's footsteps grew closer in the corridor, his panting breaths mingling with the rhythm of his footsteps as they traveled into the communicator.

"Thirty meters...just around the corner."

Chen Hao stared at the main control panel screen. The power output was still dropping, and it had been stuck at 79% for almost two minutes. The temperature curve looked like a snake's head that had been nailed down, stuck firmly at the edge of the red line.

Susan stood beside him, her fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of her notebook.

Nana's voice suddenly rang out: "The electromagnetic interference intensity has increased again, and the backup sensor array has started dropping frames."

"How much longer can we hold out?" Chen Hao asked.

"Currently, the system redundancy supports single-channel failure within three minutes. Beyond this time, attitude control will deviate irreversibly."

“Then don’t overtake,” he said. “Karl! Hurry up!”

A muffled thud came through the communication, like a shoulder hitting a wall.

"We're here!" Carl burst through the door, carrying a rusty metal can in one hand and a testing pen in the other. He placed the can on the workbench and tapped the lid. "It's sealed perfectly, the liquid is still there."

"Quickly test the composition," Chen Hao said.

Nana reached out and took the testing pen, then placed it on the side of the container. A few seconds later, the data appeared.

"The old type of coolant has residues, an active substance concentration of 38%, and a slightly acidic pH, resulting in decreased stability."

"Can it be used?" Carl asked.

“It won’t work on its own,” she said, “but it can be mixed. Medical refrigerants contain stabilizers, and hydraulic oil has thermal conductivity; when mixed, they can form a temporary alternative.”

"What about the proportions?"

"Six parts coolant, three parts refrigerant, and one part hydraulic oil. Stir thoroughly to prevent separation."

"Where are the tools?" Susan looked up at the control cabinet on the wall.

“The mixer’s screen flickered twice on the way here,” Carl said, opening a drawer. “I’m afraid to turn it on now, in case it burns out.”

“Then let’s do it manually.” Chen Hao rolled up his sleeves. “Measuring cup, funnel, timer, all mechanical.”

Susan pulled out an old set of measuring tools and placed it on the table. Carl opened the jar, and a faint metallic smell wafted out.

"The taste hasn't changed," he said. "At least it hasn't turned into poison gas yet."

The three of them gathered around the workbench and began pouring liquid. Chen Hao stirred the liquid in the container with a glass rod, his eyes fixed on the clock on the wall.

"One minute has passed," Susan announced. "Keep the stirring speed up."

"My arm is practically sparking from all this swinging," Chen Hao gritted his teeth. "This isn't adjusting coolant, it's working out."

Nana monitored the system status from the side: "External interference is still increasing, and the main power supply fluctuation has reached the critical value of 70%."

"How much longer until it's healed?" Chen Hao asked, his hands still moving.

"Pour in the solution after the final stirring."

Carl picked up the last measuring cup and poured hydraulic oil into the mixture. He'd only poured half when the light on the control panel flickered, and the markings on the measuring cup instantly became blurred.

"Oh no!" Susan exclaimed, "The readings are messed up!"

Carl stopped immediately: "Power outage interference, we have to start over."

"We can't start over!" Chen Hao stared at the thermometer. "The core temperature was only two degrees away from locking up! Pour it according to the original proportions, just by feel!"

“Are you crazy?” Karl frowned. “Even a single drop of hydraulic oil will affect the heat transfer efficiency.”

"If we lose even one drop, we'll have to drift for seven hours!" Chen Hao roared. "By then, none of us will be able to get back!"

There was a moment of silence inside the cabin.

Carl glanced at his watch, then at the mixture, and abruptly poured in the remaining half-cup.

“That’s it,” he said. “No more adjustments, just the injection now.”

Chen Hao nodded, picked up the mixture, and headed towards the engine compartment interface. Susan grabbed her tools and followed.

The pipe connection was located low on the bulkhead, and the cover plate was rusted shut.

Chen Hao squatted down, inserted the wrench into the valve, and twisted it forcefully.

It didn't move.

He changed his posture, bracing his feet against the wall and using his hands to exert force.

With a "click," the valve loosened slightly.

"Again!" he gasped.

With a second effort, his arm muscles tensed, and sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, the valve slowly began to rotate.

“It’s open!” Susan said.

Chen Hao's hand trembled, the wrench slipped and fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I pulled a muscle," he grinned, "but I can still move."

Nana's voice came through the earpiece: "Preparing for injection. I'll manually lock the program to prevent system misjudgment."

"Start!" Chen Hao opened the connecting tube, and the mixture flowed into the circulation system through the hose.

The pressure curve on the main control panel screen jumped slightly, but Nana switched it to the simulation channel, and the value returned to stability.

Ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty seconds.

The temperature curve began to slowly decline.

Power output has rebounded to 85%.

88%.

92%.

It eventually stopped at 96%.

The alarm went out.

Chen Hao plopped down on the ground, leaning against the bulkhead.

“It’s alive,” he said. “At least our broken ship didn’t go on strike on the spot.”

Susan let out a long sigh and closed the notebook.

Carl checked the interface seal: "No leaks, flow rate is normal."

Nana is still monitoring the data stream: "The core temperature continues to drop, and it is expected to enter the safe zone in fifteen minutes."

"Finally, I can catch my breath." Chen Hao raised his hand to wipe his sweat. "Next, we just need to get around that damn source of interference, right?"

“Theoretically feasible.” Nana pulled up the navigation map. “However, the current interference intensity has already affected the gyroscope’s accuracy. Small orbital changes are still possible, but large turns may lead to loss of attitude control.”

"So we're going to have to stay here forever?" Susan frowned.

“Unless we find the source,” Carl said. “The interference doesn’t occur naturally; there’s always some kind of discharge somewhere.”

"Do you remember the direction we located before?" Chen Hao asked Nana.

"Fifteen degrees to the right ahead, approximately 800 kilometers away."

“Eight hundred kilometers…” Chen Hao stroked his chin. “That’s not far. The problem is, how accurate are our current navigation systems?”

“I can try using pulse-echo ranging,” she said. “By briefly transmitting a directional signal and receiving the reflected wave, I can determine the location of the obstacle.”

"Won't this backfire?" Susan asked. "What if that thing is a signal-sensitive mineral?"

“The risks exist,” Nana acknowledged. “But passively waiting is equally dangerous. Continuing to remain in the current area could lead to system fatigue and trigger secondary failures.”

The cabin quieted down.

Chen Hao looked down at his reddened palms, which had been chafed raw when he was turning the valve.

"Someone has to do something," he said. "Otherwise, are we just waiting to die?"

“I’ll go operate the signal transmission module.” Carl stood up. “The antenna angle needs physical calibration.”

“I’ll go with you.” Susan picked up her tool bag.

The two left the main control room.

Chen Hao leaned back in his seat, staring at the waveform on the screen.

The interference signal continued to beat regularly, like a heartbeat.

"Do you think this thing... is alive?" he asked.

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Nana replied. “It’s more likely to be mineral lattice resonance, similar to the piezoelectric effect.”

“It sounds like a line from a science fiction movie,” he laughed. “But I’d rather it be a rock than run into a talking electromagnetic ghost.”

Nana did not respond.

A few seconds later, the main control panel beeped.

[Pulse signal transmission ready]

Antenna calibration complete.

[Countdown: 10 seconds]

Chen Hao sat up straight.

"It's coming."

The countdown has reached zero.

The signal was sent.

On the screen, echo data begins to return.

An irregular, blocky object appeared at the edge of the radar, its outline blurred but its location clear.

Distance: 792 kilometers.

Size: Approximately 300 meters in diameter.

Shape: Approximately ellipsoidal, with an uneven surface.

"Is it an asteroid?" Chen Hao asked, then realized what he had said and quickly corrected himself, "I mean, an asteroid?"

“Highly likely,” Nana analyzed. “The internal structure is dense and the reflectivity is abnormal, which is consistent with the characteristics of high metal content.”

Is it moving?

"The relative speed is close to zero, and it is drifting in the same direction as us."

"So..." Chen Hao narrowed his eyes, "it's been following us all along?"

“No,” Nana shook her head. “We entered its sphere of influence. It is the center.”

Chen Hao stared at the point of light.

"So we didn't just happen to be passing by and cause trouble, we actually barged into someone's living room?"

"The logic holds true."

He chuckled briefly.

"So what's the next step? Go around it, or..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

The control panel suddenly shook.

It wasn't the screen flickering; the entire table was shaking.

The data stream was interrupted for one second, and all readings jumped together after it resumed.

"What's going on?" He grabbed the handrail.

Nana quickly retrieved the log: "Just received a high-intensity pulse, the energy level is three times higher than before."

"source?"

"Same direction. Asteroid."

"It... fought back?"

"Uncertain. It could be a natural release, or it could be that our signal triggered some kind of response."

Chen Hao stared at the dots of light on the radar.

It didn't move.

But the surrounding interference waveforms changed.

The rhythmic fluctuations have transformed into continuous oscillations.

It was like breathing turning into a roar.

He pressed the communicator: "Karl, Susan, how are things over there?"

There was only static in the channel.

He tried again.

It still doesn't work.

Nana looked up: "The communication array is covered by a strong signal, and a connection cannot be established for at least three minutes."

Chen Hao stood up and walked to the control panel.

"So we just have to wait?"

“Or take a closer look,” she said.

He paused for a moment.

What did you say?

“Get closer,” Nana repeated. “Since it responds to the signal, closer observation may yield more information.”

"You want us to come to your door?"

“The risks are manageable,” she said. “As long as you don’t stay within the maximum radiation radius for more than four minutes, the system will not collapse.”

Chen Hao stared at the screen.

The point of light floated silently in deep space.

Like a silent piece of iron.

He raised his injured hand and gently tapped the table.

"If it really explodes, can we at least curse it before we die?"