The alarm went off as soon as my finger touched the start button.

The red light flashed blindingly, and the energy readings in the simulator jumped wildly up and down. Three seconds later, the system automatically shut down. Chen Hao stood there, stunned, his hand still hanging in mid-air.

"Here we go again," Carl peeked out from the corner. "Did it explode again just now?"

“It didn’t explode.” Nana had already pulled up the log. “The experiment was aborted because the energy field fluctuation exceeded the safety threshold.”

Susan leaned over and glanced at the graph: "This isn't random jitter; it's a regular sawtooth pattern."

"So, the problem has always been there?" Chen Hao frowned.

“Let’s start with the first test,” Nana nodded, “only this time it’s more intense.”

Chen Hao sat back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. He had thought that pressing this button would bring a steady rise in the data, but reality slapped him in the face.

“Let’s do it again,” he said. “Let’s clean all the sensors first; maybe some of the probes has dust inside.”

Carl responded and ran to check the device array. Susan opened her notebook, flipping through the previous parameter settings page by page. Nana stood in front of the control panel, her eyes slightly blue, retrieving hardware status in the background.

At 7:40, the second startup began.

This time it lasted for four and a half minutes, then the same alarm sounded again, and the same power outage occurred.

“It’s not a sensor problem,” Carl reported back. “All interfaces are clean, and signal transmission is normal.”

"Then it's not a hardware issue." Chen Hao rubbed his temples. "Could it be environmental interference?"

"The research institute's building shielding level is S," Nana said. "Theoretically, it will not be affected by external electromagnetic fields."

“Theories are all for show,” Chen Hao muttered. “When we were doing experiments on the planet last time, who told you that the area could have a stable power supply? In the end, we still had to manually adjust the frequency to get through it.”

Susan suddenly looked up: "Wait, I just checked the timestamps of the experiment three times, and the timing of the deviations seems to follow a pattern."

She projected the data onto the wall: "It always happens at the seventeenth minute after the hour, lasting about two and a half minutes."

"So accurate?" Carl leaned closer. "Like a timed alarm clock."

“It’s more like some kind of periodic interference source.” Nana immediately accessed the research institute’s energy dispatch system and retrieved the building’s power supply records.

A few seconds later, she circled a node on the underground pipeline map: "Every morning at eight, nine, and ten o'clock, the energy supply pipeline here will have a brief energy peak, lasting for about two minutes and twenty seconds."

"Perfect match." Chen Hao slammed his hand on the table. "So it's not that our equipment is faulty, it's that the building is shaking on its own?"

“The possibility is very high,” Nana said. “If the underground pulse frequency is close to the resonant frequency band of the simulation chamber, a superposition effect will occur.”

"But didn't the research institute say that this system is completely blocked?" Susan asked.

“They were talking about external shielding,” Nana added, “but they didn’t mention internal transmission.”

The air was still for a few seconds.

Carl scratched his head: "So what do we do now? Wait for them to fix the pipes?"

"We can't afford to wait." Chen Hao shook his head. "The meeting was moved up by two hours, which means the higher-ups have already started monitoring the progress."

He stood up, paced back and forth in the room a few times, and suddenly stopped: "Try again tomorrow morning, but this time try adding a seismic isolation layer."

"What should we use?" Susan asked.

“The spare magnetic levitation pads from the lab,” Nana replied. “can be temporarily installed on the base of the simulation cabin to block the physical conduction path.”

“Okay.” Chen Hao nodded. “You’re in charge of preparing the materials. Carl and I will recalibrate the initial parameters. Susan will continue to monitor the timeline to see if there are any other anomalies.”

Once the tasks were assigned, the four of them immediately got to work.

Around 11 o'clock, preparations for the third experiment were completed.

No one spoke this time; everyone stared at the screen, waiting for 8:17 to arrive.

Once the time is up, start the program.

The energy curve initially rose steadily, but at the nineteenth second, the value fluctuated violently again, and the system stopped once more.

“Still no use.” Carl leaned against the wall in dejection. “I couldn’t even hold on for a second longer.”

“But there’s a change.” Susan pointed to the chart. “The second fluctuation was five seconds later than the first, and the amplitude was also a little smaller.”

"This shows that the vibration isolation pads are working," Nana analyzed, "but the isolation is not thorough enough."

“That means we’re on the right track.” Chen Hao picked up a pen and drew a simple diagram on the paper. “Next time, add a double layer and modify the grounding line. Maybe we can divert the interference away.”

“You really think you can handle this?” Carl looked at him.

"If we don't get this sorted out, we'll have to go back to fixing the electric scooter." Chen Hao grinned. "Do you think I'd want to?"

No one went to the cafeteria for lunch. Susan made four cups of instant coffee and placed them on the table. Nana silently pushed one of them towards Chen Hao—he knew she wasn't good at comforting people, but this cup of coffee was at the perfect temperature, without sugar, just like usual.

At 2 p.m., Karl volunteered to adjust the output power of the quantum coupling module.

“Let me try,” he said. “Last time it was interrupted by accident, and I want to fix it this time.”

Chen Hao hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Five minutes later, the alarm went off again.

"What's going on?" Chen Hao rushed over.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Carl's voice tightened. "I just adjusted the phase angle, and the protection mechanism locked the entire module!"

"It's alright." Nana quickly checked the logs. "The system has saved the data; it can be restored after a restart."

"Something's wrong!" Karl slammed his fist on the table. "I've messed things up twice already! Did you bring me here just to be a hindrance?"

“Now is not the time to talk about this,” Chen Hao blurted out.

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Susan was about to comfort Carl when those words stopped her. The atmosphere in the room suddenly froze.

Nana turned around, turned on the stereo, and played some upbeat music. The volume wasn't loud, but it was enough to break the silence.

"I recommend taking a 15-minute break," she said. "Working continuously for more than three hours will increase the error rate by 37 percent."

No one objected.

Five minutes later, the door opened.

Li Zhenhua stood at the door, his white coat draped over his arm. He didn't come in, but leaned against the doorframe and glanced at the status of the control panel.

"How many times did it explode today?" he asked.

"It didn't explode," Chen Hao replied. "It just kept stopping."

"Oh." Li Zhenhua nodded. "When I led the team, there were three explosions in the first week. It wasn't until the last one that we realized it was a geomagnetic disturbance. You guys are only on your first day, what's the rush?"

After saying that, he left without even drinking a drop of water.

The room was silent for a few seconds.

"Is he trying to comfort us?" Karl asked in a low voice.

"I guess so," Chen Hao chuckled. "At least they didn't call us trash."

He turned around and patted Karl on the shoulder: "I was rude just now, I'm sorry. None of us were born knowing how to do this, and I often don't understand the parameter tables either, I rely entirely on Nana to highlight the key points for me."

Carl lowered his head: "I'm just afraid... afraid I'm not good enough for this project."

"Then you shouldn't have come?" Chen Hao retorted. "You're clearly the one who most wants to understand the underlying principles. Don't forget, who was it that got up in the middle of the night to recalculate that energy conversion formula?"

Carl didn't say anything, but his shoulders relaxed a little.

"Okay." Chen Hao picked up the schedule. "For tomorrow's test, each module will be controlled in turn. I'll go first, then you, then Susan, and finally Nana will finish up. If anyone makes a mistake, we'll all take responsibility, okay?"

Karl looked up and slowly nodded.

The fourth round of screening ended at 6 p.m.

Nana compared the building structure diagrams and energy logs side by side and finally confirmed a detail: the peak energy frequency of the underground pipeline was not constant, but was finely adjusted by 0.3 Hz every day to prevent long-term resonance.

“But our simulator is fixed on a single frequency band,” she said. “It’s like hitting a different ‘wall’ every day.”

“So there’s no way to solve this with a single adjustment.” Susan understood. “We have to either dynamically avoid it or completely cut it off.”

“Then let’s do it both ways.” Chen Hao wrote down the plan. “Tomorrow morning at six o’clock, we will conduct a control experiment. One group will use double-layer vibration isolation pads with grounding and current diversion, while the other group will remain as is. We will see if it can run stably for more than ten minutes.”

Nana started updating the contingency plan, Susan organized the notes, and Carl squatted on the ground to check the connection of the gasket.

Chen Hao sat in front of the control panel, his fingers tapping on the keyboard, typing the last line of notes.

A notification pops up in the bottom right corner of the screen:

Meeting time tomorrow: 6:00 AM

He glanced out the window; it was already completely dark.

My finger moved to the confirmation box, paused for a few seconds, but didn't press it.