Chen Hao licked the last bit of oil off the canned food, his fingers rubbing it one last time. He was about to say that this life was worse than that of a pig when the control panel screen suddenly flashed red.

"Warning: High-energy particle density region detected 37,000 kilometers ahead."

The voice was Nana's, but this time it lacked its usual steady rhythm and was a beat faster.

Chen Hao looked up. "What do you mean? Can't we go around it?"

“We can veer off course,” Nana said, staring at the data stream, “but it will take an extra forty-eight hours.”

Susan immediately flipped through the manual, "Is the food enough to sustain us?"

“Based on the current quota, we’re six days short,” Karl calculated quickly. “We have enough oxygen, but what about radiation? How much can the ship block?”

Nana pulled up the structural diagram: "Current shielding rate is 38.6%. After crossing, each person is expected to absorb more than three times the safe dose. This may cause nausea, hair loss, skin burns, and in severe cases, organ damage."

The room was silent for two seconds.

“That means we can’t force our way in.” Susan closed her tablet.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table and stood up. "Get dressed and get to work. We weren't asleep anyway."

The protective suits were taken out of the locker; they were dusty and the labels were faded. Susan checked the seals one by one, then pulled out two suits. "These two are old; there are cracks at the elbows. They're unusable."

“No choice.” Carl took a complete set. “Prioritize the key positions.”

"Am I the key?" Chen Hao put on the leg sleeves and struggled to pull them up. "For fat people, wearing these things is like stuffing sausages."

“Your heart rate just spiked to 120.” Susan glanced at him. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

"I was scared." Chen Hao patted his stomach as he zipped up his jacket. "Who would have thought that right after we finished fixing the oxygen supply, another radiation bomb would appear?"

Nana's voice rang out from above, "After everyone is fully equipped, a reflective layer needs to be installed at the connection point of the outer compartment in Zone B. The original shielding plate has failed due to aging and must be manually reinforced."

“I’ll go.” Carl slung his tool bag over his shoulder. “I’ll check if the power unit is loose on the way.”

“I’m going too.” Chen Hao grabbed his gloves. “It’s too lonely being out there alone, and it’s easy to miss home.”

“You don’t like going out even though you stay home.” Susan handed over an emergency medicated patch kit. “Take this with you, just stick it on if you tear.”

The lights in the outer passageway flickered twice before coming on. The two walked forward on the metal floor, their footsteps echoing back and forth in the pipes.

"The third connector on the left." Carl turned on his flashlight. "Just attach the foil mesh and tighten the screws."

Chen Hao squatted down and had just pasted the material on when his left glove tore open with a "rip".

"Damn it!" He abruptly pulled his hand back.

The moment my skin touched the outer wall, it felt like being burned by a match head.

"Step back!" Karl grabbed him and pulled him into the inner cabin.

Back in the controlled area, Susan pulled up his sleeve, revealing that the inside of his wrist was already red, even more noticeable than the previous sunburn.

“Weak radiation exposure.” She took out a piece of adhesive film. “Put it here to prevent further contact.”

“I knew it, fat people have more fat,” Chen Hao grinned. “Natural radiation protection, saves on materials.”

“I can’t save money.” Susan finished applying the screen protector. “Next time I go out, I’ll wear new gloves.”

Nana retrieved a new solution from the system: "According to the knowledge base, the lead-tin alloy layer in the scrapped navigation module can be disassembled and reassembled to make a temporary shielding net."

“Then let’s tear it down.” Carl wiped his face. “That thing’s been useless for a long time anyway.”

The three returned to the equipment compartment, pried open the old module's casing, and peeled off the metal layers piece by piece. The soldering torch emitted a blue light, and molten solder dripped onto the tray, solidifying into small lumps.

"The seams must be tight," Karl said as he welded. "If there's even one gap, all our work is for nothing."

Two hours later, all three key nodes were covered. The main screen showed that the overall shielding rate of the ship had increased to 62%.

“That’s enough,” Nana nodded. “With the flight path adjustment, the total radiation exposure can be reduced by 70%.”

"Which way?" Chen Hao leaned closer.

“An S-shaped detour.” She drew a curve. “Avoid the core area and travel along the edge fluctuation zone. It will take longer, but it will be safer.”

"Let's go then." Chen Hao leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, we don't have anything else to do."

After the command was input, the ship slowly turned. The thrusters hummed softly, and the attitude angle began to change.

The alarm sounded once in the third hour of the voyage.

"Secondary pulse." Nana quickly adjusted the shield distribution. "Lasts eight seconds, 91% filtered."

"If you do this a few more times, my ears will be calloused," Chen Hao said, covering his ears.

"Your heart rate is still a bit fast." Susan stared at the monitoring screen. "I suggest we change the person on duty."

"I can hold on." Chen Hao waved his hand. "Lying down now would make me look disloyal."

Carl patrolled the engine room, confirming the load was normal. Susan recorded each radiation spike and the corresponding response. Nana continuously fine-tuned the flight path to avoid the suddenly intensified particle stream.

After five hours, a green indicator finally appeared on the main screen: "Out of the high radiation zone."

"I survived." Chen Hao let out a long breath and sank into his seat. "Next time, could you give me a gentler test? Like an exam? At least I can die in peace."

No one responded.

Just as they relaxed their shoulders, the communications array suddenly emitted a short "beep" sound.

Everyone looked up.

“Signal activated.” Nana quickly pinpointed the source. “From deep space behind the radiation zone, non-standard encoding, frequency unstable.”

"Let's play it out." Chen Hao sat up straight.

Intermittent waveform sounds came from the speaker, like an electric current scraping against a sheet of iron.

“A repeated paragraph has appeared.” Nana marked the time point. “Parsing.”

On the screen, the waveform flickered, piecing together several indistinct syllables:

"...Danger...Keep away..."

“Natural interference?” Susan asked.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Karl shook his head. “There are signs of modulation; it looks like it was sent manually.”

“But who would send a signal in a place like that?” Chen Hao stared at the map. “And we just happened to get there and received it.”

“It might be a trap,” Susan said, “to lure the ships closer.”

“It could also be a cry for help,” Chen Hao said in a low voice. “Otherwise, why would they specifically say ‘keep away’?”

Nana continued her analysis, "The signal strength is extremely low, and the propagation distance is limited. If it is not tracked immediately, it will disappear in twelve minutes."

"Chase?" Chen Hao looked at the others.

“Pursuing it doesn’t guarantee an answer,” Carl said. “Not pursuing it might mean missing out on important information.”

“But we just escaped,” Susan warned. “Going back would be too risky.”

“But it says ‘keep away.’” Chen Hao tapped his fingers on the armrest. “If there really is someone there warning us not to go… then it means there is definitely a problem inside.”

“The problem is,” Carl looked at him, “that we’ve already moved on.”

“So this signal,” Chen Hao slowly raised his head, “is not for us to hear.”

The room was silent for a few seconds.

"Who is it for?" Susan asked.

“The previous ship,” Nana suddenly said, “or even earlier, the voyage records show that there were three disappearances on this route. The last one was seven years ago.”

"Seven years ago?" Chen Hao was stunned. "Did those people... also eat expired canned food?"

No one laughed.

Nana pulled up the historical logs and saw that "a similar signal was received before the last communication interruption. No content was recorded, only 'abnormal frequency band' was marked."

"They ignored me?" Carl asked.

“I can’t confirm,” Nana replied, “but their course hasn’t deviated.”

"Then what?"

"Missing. The wreckage has never been found."

The lights in the control room flickered, as if the voltage was unstable.

“The signal is back now.” Susan looked at the screen. “Same location, same content.”

"What does this mean?" Chen Hao stared at the waveform.

"That means that thing is still there," Karl said in a low voice. "It's still being sent."

"It took seven years," Chen Hao murmured, "just to tell those who come after me—don't come."

“Should we respond?” Susan asked.

No one spoke.

Nana has started tracking the signal source, and the coordinates are slowly updating.

"We can locate the launch device if we go a little further ahead," she said.

Chen Hao raised his hand and looked at his wrist, which was covered with adhesive film. The redness hadn't faded and it was still faintly hot.

He suddenly felt as if the ship had never truly left that area.