3:17 a.m.
My phone vibrated, the screen lit up, and the countdown timer reset to zero.
Chen Hao stood beside the control panel, his finger just leaving the start button. He didn't speak, only staring at the vent of the smoke machine in the distance. The first wisp of grayish-white gas slowly drifted out, without any pungent smell or obstructive noise. The alarm sounded, a low-frequency whine that lasted for three seconds, paused, and then repeated—Level 1 Earthquake Warning.
It's different from last time.
Susan rolled out of bed at the dormitory door, moving the instant her feet touched the floor. Without grabbing her notebook or asking who gave the order, she flung open the door and rushed into the hallway. Carl, hearing the noise, jumped out of bed as well, grabbing the flashlight from the bedside table and turning it on as he ran.
The beam of light swept across the ground, and a fluorescent green marking line was clearly visible, winding its way towards the safety passage.
"Turn left!" Carl shouted.
Susan didn't turn around; her steps had already turned towards the left staircase. Nana's voice came through the earpiece: "Level 2 response confirmed, evacuation route clear."
Chen Hao followed at the back, his hands in his pockets, his face expressionless. It wasn't that he wasn't nervous, but he had learned to hide his nervousness without showing it.
Inside the training ground, the smoke began to spread in segments. Unlike last time when it all came out at once, the release rhythm was now stable, triggering the next node only every ten meters. Visibility was still maintained, preventing people from wandering around aimlessly.
"The earthquake simulation platform is now operational," Nana said.
The ground trembled slightly, as if a heavy vehicle had passed by in the distance. A few loose paving stones shook slightly, but did not collapse. Karl glanced down at his feet and quickened his pace.
"The flood zone ahead is about to open," Susan warned.
The water valve opened precisely on time, and water slowly gushed out from the side ditch, reaching only ankle-deep. No one froze or strayed off course like last time; the four people passed through one after another, their steps steady.
Chen Hao stood near the finish line, watching them emerge one by one through the smoke. His hands remained in his pockets, but his heart was beating twice as fast as usual.
Susan was the first to arrive, out of breath but without stopping. She turned to look behind her to make sure the others had followed. Carl leaned against the wall to catch his breath, his flashlight still on. Nana was the last to leave the simulation area; the terminal showed all data was normal.
"Total time." Chen Hao took out a timer.
The numbers on the screen froze: three minutes and nine seconds.
He looked up: "Forty-two seconds less than the first time."
No one answered immediately. There was still a faint smell of smoke in the air, the ground was damp, and the clothes of the group were covered in dust. But their eyes were different now.
“I didn’t wait for instructions,” Susan suddenly said. “I moved as soon as I heard the alarm.”
“I know.” Chen Hao nodded. “You stopped at the corner, but immediately turned left.”
“Nana told me the direction,” Susan smiled, “but I’ve actually already decided to turn back.”
Carl took a sip of water and wiped his face: "This time the smoke isn't too thick, and I can see the road clearly. I can still carry people."
"If you're really injured, who will take care of you?" Chen Hao asked him.
“Let’s see how they react,” Carl shrugged. “Anyway, I’m not carrying myself.”
Nana pulled up the surveillance footage. Four tracks were moving forward in parallel, barely deviating from the main path. The average response time was 1.2 seconds; the slowest response occurred when Susan tightened her shoelaces before continuing to run.
“The system didn’t crash,” she said. “The modules are operating normally independently, and there is no crosstalk in the signals.”
“No one collapsed,” Chen Hao added. “No one fell into the ditch.”
Carl chuckled twice: "I've memorized that place; I'll avoid it."
Morning light streamed in from the east, illuminating the open space. The sign above the shelter door reflected the light, its red background and white lettering reading "Emergency Assembly Point." The four people stood together, none of them in a hurry to leave.
"One more time?" Susan asked.
"No need," Chen Hao shook his head. "One time is enough. What we need is not more practice, but practice correctly."
After he finished speaking, he walked to the control panel and reviewed the log records. Every action was timestamped, and every decision could be traced back to its source. No step stalled, and no one shouted "What do we do?"
“Before, we waited for it to begin,” he said. “Now we know that the beginning is now.”
Carl stretched and said, "Can I go back and catch up on my sleep now?"
“No.” Chen Hao handed him the terminal. “You have to put up all the new signs. It has to be done before eight o’clock.”
"Working overtime again tonight." Carl took the equipment and muttered, "I'm practically a night shift robot."
“Then you’ll have to pay more,” Susan replied with a smile.
“I don’t get paid,” Carl said, shrugging. “I’m doing this purely voluntary.”
Nana stood to the side, uploading the final data package. Her finger slid across the screen, lines of information scrolling rapidly. Suddenly she stopped.
"A problem has been discovered."
Everyone looked over.
"What's the problem?" Chen Hao asked.
“The method of splinting in Zone 3 did not match the training script,” she said. “When Carl was playing the injured person, Susan did not use the back support posture, but instead made a splint on the spot and called for support.”
Carl blinked. "Is this a mistake?"
“No,” Nana shook her head. “The terrain is narrow, and it’s really inconvenient to carry someone on your back. The new plan is more reasonable.”
“But she didn’t follow the procedure,” Chen Hao said.
“You wrote the process.” Susan looked up. “You said that rules are rigid, but people are flexible.”
Chen Hao was taken aback for a moment, then laughed: "Did I say that?"
“During yesterday’s meeting,” Susan looked at him, “you said that as long as the direction is right, any path counts.”
"Oh." Chen Hao scratched the back of his head. "Then I've dug a hole for myself."
“It wasn’t just you,” Karl said, pointing at Nana. “She didn’t correct us either; instead, she changed the route instructions.”
Nana calmly said, "On-site handling is better than the pre-planned solution. I think it should be adopted."
Chen Hao was silent for a few seconds, then pressed the save button on the recorder.
“It seems you’ve all learned to make your own judgments,” he said. “That’s good.”
Susan patted Carl on the shoulder: "Did you come up with that move yourself?"
“Of course.” Carl grinned. “You think I draw signs every day just to doodle? I’ve looked every corner and know where people can stand and where their legs will get stuck.”
"So you planned this all along?" Chen Hao raised an eyebrow.
"I guess so." Carl finished the last sip of water, crushed the bottle, and threw it into the recycling bin. "Next time, I can pretend to faint to test my first aid response speed."
“No,” Susan immediately objected. “You really think you’re faking it? Nobody’s going to save you?”
“Then I’ll just lie here and wait to die,” Carl sighed. “Anyway, I can’t run fast.”
"You seem quite resigned to your fate," Chen Hao chuckled.
A morning breeze swept across the training ground, stirring up a small cloud of dust. The shadows on the distant walls slowly shortened, and the sky was fully bright.
Nana closed the terminal and said softly, "The data shows that team collaboration efficiency has increased by 67 percent."
"Be more specific?" Chen Hao asked.
“The path offset has been reduced by 83 percent.” She paused, then rephrased, “The number of erroneous moves has dropped from seven to one.”
"Which time?" Susan asked.
“Carl almost stepped into the drain in the second section,” Nana said. “But he realized it himself and stepped back.”
Carl scratched his head: "I thought it was fixed there."
"It's not sealed yet," Chen Hao said. "We'll seal it tomorrow."
"More overtime." Carl rolled his eyes.
“You don’t have to come,” Chen Hao said, looking at him.
“Then who’s going to put up the signs?” Carl scoffed. “We can’t expect Nana to climb the ladder, can we? She’s not a repairman.”
“I can remotely control engineering robots,” Nana said.
“But someone has to carry the ladder up,” Chen Hao said. “You can’t escape.”
Carl sighed. "I feel like a handyman now."
“You always have been,” Susan said with a smile.
"Hello!"
“But you’re an indispensable handyman.” Chen Hao patted him on the shoulder. “Without you, who would draw these marking lines? Who would remember where every hole is?”
“Fine,” Carl said helplessly. “I admit it. I’m the only one in the base who knows the layout of the floor tiles.”
"And you seem to know it all too well," Susan teased.
“That’s right.” Carl puffed out his chest. “I’ve walked on this ground at least fifty times.”
"Fifty times?" Chen Hao exclaimed in surprise. "Did you sleepwalk in the middle of the night?"
“Pretty much,” Carl said softly. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went for a walk around the place.”
"Why?" Susan asked.
"I'm afraid something will happen again today," he said frankly. "I'm afraid my reaction will be slow and I'll drag everyone down."
No one laughed. A moment of silence fell.
Chen Hao looked at him: "Are you still scared now?"
Carl thought for a moment: "I'm still scared. But now I know where to run."
“That’s enough,” Chen Hao said. “The ones who aren’t afraid are the ones in danger, because they’re unprepared.”
Susan cracked her knuckles: "Shouldn't we increase the difficulty now?"
“Of course.” Chen Hao nodded. “Next time, add a power outage and a communication interruption.”
"Another random trigger?" Karl frowned.
"Definitely." Chen Hao looked at the sky. "We can't say when disaster will strike."
Nana suddenly spoke up: "I suggest adding a night mode training session."
“Agreed.” Susan raised her hand. “I’ll try the lights-out drill tonight.”
"Don't scare me," Carl quickly waved his hand. "I have a heart condition."
“Your heart rate monitoring data is normal,” Nana said.
“That’s now!” Carl pointed at her. “What if you suddenly set off a false alarm?”
“I can give you advance notice,” Nana said.
"No!" Karl shouted. "None of you are to launch a surprise attack!"
Chen Hao laughed: "But the real world is all about surprise attacks."
“I’ve never been to the real world,” Carl muttered. “I just want to live a good life.”
“You’re living well now,” Chen Hao said, “because you’ve learned how to run for your life.”
Susan picked up the kettle, took a sip, and looked up to ask, "When does it start next time?"
Chen Hao took his phone out of his pocket.
The screen lights up, and the timer interface remains on.
Scope: Within 24 hours.
The last time I set it was just ten minutes ago.
His finger hovered over the "Reset" button, but he didn't press it.
A gust of wind blew from the end of the training ground, stirring a piece of paper posted on the bulletin board.
The corner of the paper was flipped up, revealing a few hastily written words on the back:
**Ready at any time.**
Chen Hao pressed the confirmation button.
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