363: Reaching consensus

Chen Wang took his hand off the interface, and the light in his palm slowly faded.

He walked to the main control screen, his fingers sliding across it to pull up a set of data curves.

The screen lit up, displaying every instance of the vehicle model's extreme operation: passing through the black tide, Shield ruptures, energy core overheating... Every line was nearing the danger zone, but in the end, they were all pulled back.

"We've survived every upgrade this way," he said. "This time will be the same, just a bit harder."

Su Ling stood by the wall, her shoulders still tense.

She stared at the data line traversing the ice field, her brow unfurrowed.

"You say the data is fine, but what about us? Our emotions, our judgment, our fear—these are real too. You can't just explain everything with machines."

Chen Wang nodded and touched the burn on his arm.

"I'm not explaining away fear; I only trust the people who have endured it with me."

Su Wan looked down at the monitor and tapped the edge lightly.

A few seconds later, she said, "Then... should we calculate it again?"

Lin Wei stood up immediately, ignoring her glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose.

She turned the resonance model of the six energy cores into a 3D diagram, and the fluctuations in Zone C on the light screen were as stable as a heartbeat.

"This isn't a malfunction; it's an adjustment," she said, her speech speeding up.

"I suggest adding a buffer layer to better absorb the energy oscillations."

Su Wan responded immediately, searching the medical pod database for examples of neural regulation.

"The nervous system does something similar," she said.

"Intermittent power supply might be more stable, giving the system time to adapt to changes."

Star Pupil was still lying on the auxiliary pod, her hand resting on her forehead.

The mechanical parrot "broadcaster" flashed its red light three times and reported a set of values.

Chen Wang immediately entered them into the system for comparison, and the waveform match reached 98.7%.

"Her ability is helping us too," he said.

Amy Chen hadn't moved, holding an old coin in her hand and gently pushing it along the edge of the control panel.

The coin spun a few times and stopped.

She looked up and said, "You want to run the whole distance in one go, but you don't have enough fuel. This isn't a question of whether we dare to do it, but whether we have enough."

She opened the energy consumption table: the current energy could support full power for at most fifty hours, but they needed seventy-two.

The room went quiet again.

Lin Wei bit her pen cap, her fingers trembling slightly.

Su Ling closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, her breathing slowing down.

Su Wan stared at the monitor, as if trying to find a little more time in the curves.

Chen Wang looked at the scar on his arm, saying nothing.

Time was like a wall, pressing down so hard it was hard to breathe.

Amy Chen suddenly smiled and tapped the control panel.

"If we insist on running it all at once, it definitely won't be enough."

She drew a timeline on the screen.

"But what if we run it in stages?"

Everyone looked at the screen.

"Start with 80% power to let the system enter a resonance state," she said, her voice steady.

"Once it's adjusted itself, then switch to full power. The energy saved earlier can cover the deficit later."

She pointed to the storage area: "Those old energy cores—their power is low, they can't be the main force, but they're perfect as a 'starter.' It's like lighting a match; you heat up the stove first, then add more fuel."

Lin Wei's eyes lit up: "Like a cold start for a car! Use a little electricity to ignite it first, and once it's turning, then add fuel!"

Su Ling opened her eyes and looked at the energy curve chart.

Her hands slowly placed on either side of the control lever.

Su Wan unclasped her hands, placed them on her knees, and looked at her teammates.

Amy Chen gently placed the coin next to the "backup energy" mark, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.

Chen Wang stood in front of the main screen, his right hand slowly lifting and stopping two centimeters above the confirm button.

His left hand was still pressing on his burn scar, his fingers white.

Lin Wei knelt in front of the terminal, her fingers poised on the touchpad, ready to enter the new parameters.

Star Pupil's mechanical parrot had its red light blinking steadily, at the same frequency as the system's standby waveform.

In the control room, no one moved, but the atmosphere had changed.

Chen Wang's finger was still two centimeters away from the confirm button.