Chen Hao didn't move. He stared at the screen, his fingers still resting on the joystick, the sweat on his palms slowly drying, leaving a sticky residue.

No one spoke in the control room. The alarm had stopped, and the red lights were half-off, but the air remained tense, as if the moment someone opened their mouth, the tension would break.

"Is it really gone?" Susan asked in a low voice.

“It’s not that they left,” Nana said, looking at the data stream. “They changed their target.”

"So what are we now?" Chen Hao grinned. "Lucky audience members?"

“It’s safe for now,” Nana said. “But the defense system just used up too much energy. The shield used up 30% of its reserves, 22% of the coolant was lost, and only two sets of backup power are still usable.”

"It sounds like a dying person saying they can still breathe."

Carl crouched at the equipment hatch, his hand still on the voltage regulator. He looked up at the energy panel and frowned. "That's not all. The engine is consuming power even in standby mode. The curvature stabilizer is fixed, but it's constantly running basic calibration, consuming 1.5 units per minute."

"Can't I just turn it off?"

“Turning it off saves electricity,” Carl said, “but it has to be preheated again to turn it on next time, which will take at least four minutes. If the trap suddenly turns around, we won’t even have a chance to escape.”

Chen Hao leaned back in his seat and let out a breath. The overhead light flickered and then dimmed again.

So now it's like this—you can't fight, and you can't run away?

“More or less.” Susan flipped through the report in her hand. “I just went through the inventory. Seventeen energy crystals left, three cans of coolant left, and two sets of emergency batteries. One set is new, and the other set was taken from an old module. The voltage is unstable and it may not last more than two charge-discharge cycles.”

How long can Seventeen hold out?

“Based on the minimum stability maintenance standards,” she paused, “it’s less than four hours.”

The cabin was silent for a few seconds.

"Then let's skip maintaining stability," Chen Hao said. "It'll save electricity."

"How can we save money?" Susan asked.

"Shut everything down." Chen Hao waved his hand. "Shut everything except the engine and the shield. Leave the main control area lit, set the temperature control to the lowest setting, and turn off half of the sensors. Anyway, no one outside can see us."

“Okay.” Karl nodded. “I’ll get started right away.”

He got up, walked to the side control panel, and started cutting the circuit. A row of indicator lights went out one after another, and the heating element in the corner clicked and stopped. The temperature immediately dropped, and Chen Hao rubbed his arms.

"It's cold," he said.

“That’s what we’re saving,” Susan said. “You used to always complain that it was too hot.”

“That was before,” Chen Hao muttered. “Now even fat people are afraid of the cold.”

Nana stood in front of the control panel, her finger swiping across the interface. She brought up the resource audit report and read through it line by line.

“There’s another way,” she said. “Recycling discarded power sources.”

"Those that were scrapped?" Carl turned around. "Those sets marked in red as prohibited?"

“Yes.” Nana nodded. “Their output is unstable and cannot be directly connected to the main circuit, but if they are only used for buffer energy storage, they can be used in parallel.”

"What is the power rating?"

"The theoretical value is around eight," she said. "The actual value may be lower, but it should be enough to last for a while."

"Then let's give it a try," Chen Hao said. "Anyway, it won't hurt if it breaks."

Carl and Susan immediately got to work. They opened the equipment cabinet and dragged out two black boxes from the corner. The outer shells had burn marks, and the labels read "G7-2 Failure Group".

“This thing almost blew up the electrical room last time,” Carl said, already removing the cover.

“Not this time.” Susan handed over the testing pen. “We don’t connect to the main controller, only the buffer line. Even if it explodes, at most it will trip the circuit breaker.”

The two began inspecting the circuit. The solder joints were worn, the interfaces oxidized, and each had to be cleaned individually. Carl sanded away the rust, while Susan measured the voltage and found a faint current still flowing.

"There's still electricity," she said.

“Old folks live longer than humans.” Chen Hao watched them busy themselves. “Take your time, I’ll keep an eye on things outside.”

He turned back to look at the main screen. The image of the fissure zone was still there, dark and distorted, like an undeveloped film negative. The signal from the new target in the distance was getting stronger and stronger, the damage readings were off the charts, clearly worse than what they had suffered initially.

“This guy was even more unlucky,” he said.

“It’s not luck,” Nana said. “It’s determined by the trap mechanism. It prioritizes targets with stronger signals. After our jamming failed, it determined that we were camouflaging and escalated its attack. Now that flying object has no hidden damage, it has become the first choice.”

"So living longer is not as good as being badly injured?" Chen Hao chuckled. "This world is truly fair."

“We don’t have much time to spare,” Nana said. “Once it takes care of that target, it might rescan the area. We have to be prepared before that happens.”

"What are you preparing? Just to keep hiding?"

“No.” Nana brought up the knowledge base interface. “I’m looking up information. This kind of trap is a passive defense structure that relies on a specific signal pattern to operate. If we can simulate a ‘repaired’ state and continuously output a stable energy flow, it might be possible for it to determine that we no longer pose a threat.”

"It sounds like an upgraded version of playing dead."

“Yes,” she said, “but this time we need to keep sending signals continuously without interruption. And the power consumption must be low, otherwise all the saved power will be wasted.”

Is there any chance?

“Yes,” she said, “but we need to build a constant frequency transmitter using existing parts.”

"What about the materials?"

“We lack an oscillator chip,” she said. “There are no dedicated components, so we have to make the resonant cavity by hand.”

"Isn't that just rudimentary steelmaking?"

“Yes.” Nana nodded. “But we have frequency modulation components that can be salvaged from discarded communication arrays.”

“I’ll take it apart,” Susan said. “You write the program, the simpler the better.”

“It’s already being written.” Nana’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Compress it to the lowest possible computational load, and only maintain the basic waveform output.”

Carl's end is almost done too. He connected the two sets of discarded batteries in parallel to the buffer line, connected the voltage regulator, and tried three times before finally getting the output to stabilize at 7.8.

“It’s done,” he said. “It’s ugly, but it works.”

“With this added,” Chen Hao said, “we’ve gained eight more points of range.”

“It’s not about extending our range,” Nana corrected. “It’s about buffering. The real problem is what to do next. If we don’t do something, we’ll definitely come back once the trap clears out the surrounding targets.”

“Then let’s do it,” Chen Hao said. “You guys work on the transmitter, I’ll keep an eye on things outside. As long as it dares to show its face, I’ll sing it a song to send it off.”

Susan went to dismantle the communications array, while Carl stayed behind to modify the circuitry. They dug out every part they could find, soldered miniature cavities, connected wires, and finally pieced together a palm-sized device with a crooked surface and its interfaces wrapped in tape.

"It looks like a child's toy," Chen Hao said.

"As long as it works." Carl connected the device to the main control panel. "Want to try it on?"

"Program loading complete," Nana said. "Ready to send analog signals."

“Send it,” Chen Hao said. “I’ll count. If the ship blows up, I’ll say the last word is your name.”

No one laughed.

Nana pressed the confirmation button.

The device hummed softly, and the indicator light turned green. On the main screen, the external signal curve rose steadily, displaying a successful simulation of "healthy navigation status".

A few seconds later, the energy fluctuation map of the trap area showed no reaction.

“It didn’t trigger,” Susan said.

"That means it didn't target us." Nana looked at the data. "The camouflage worked."

"So it's done?" Chen Hao asked.

“For now,” she said. “The signal needs to be transmitted continuously and cannot be interrupted. The device consumes very little power, but we cannot guarantee that it will always be stable. If there is vibration or voltage fluctuation, it may become distorted.”

"Then don't shake it," Chen Hao said. "Everyone, sit tight."

He leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the screen. The rift zone remained quiet, and the signal from the distant aircraft was weakening; it might have been destroyed, or it might have escaped.

Only the low hum of the machines remained in the main control room. The lights were dim, with only the instruments emitting a bluish glow. Carl sat on the floor, leaning against the equipment cabinet, a wrench still clutched in his hand. Susan held her toolbox, her eyelids drooping, but she wasn't asleep. Nana stood in front of the control panel, the data still scrolling, her fingers occasionally twitching to adjust signal parameters.

Chen Hao looked down at his hands. The areas that had been sweating were now dry, and his skin felt a little tight.

He raised his hand and lightly touched the control stick.

No light filaments crawled out.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but then felt something was off.

Why is there no response this time?

The last few times it was clear...

As he was thinking, Nana suddenly spoke up.

"The signal is slightly jittery."

"What do you mean?" Chen Hao looked up.

“The transmitter output is unstable,” she said. “It might be due to a poor connection.”

"Fix it," he said.

Carl immediately got up and picked up the testing pen.

Susan also stood up and opened her toolbox.

Nana continued to stare at the screen.

“The frequency of the shaking is increasing,” she said.

“We’ve found the problem,” Carl said. “The solder joint is loose.”

He picked up the welding torch and approached the device.

A flash of fire.