Chapter Twenty-Nine: Internal Testing

The abandoned maintenance warehouse had been completely transformed.

Heavy lead plating shielded it from prying eyes, while high-powered industrial lamps illuminated every corner with the brightness of midday. The air hung thick with the pungent stench of ozone, molten metal, and insulating varnish.

The massive prototype of the "Cocoon Chamber"—a circular hull constructed from rugged alloy frames and exposed wiring—occupied the center of the warehouse, looking like a slumbering steel beast.

Duan Peng was shirtless, sweat tracing paths down his taut, bronze-toned back, which was marked by several fresh burn scars. He gritted his teeth, using a hydraulic wrench to tighten a bolt on a superconducting restraint ring as thick as a bowl. With every exertion, the muscles in his arms and back bulged like steel cables, and he let out a low, guttural growl.

"Damn it... is this thing... even meant for humans to assemble?!"

The bolt finally clicked into place with a teeth-grinding sound. Duan Peng leaned against the cold alloy frame, gasping for air, his chest heaving like a bellows.

"Complaining won't help, Shadow."

Xu Yan’s voice came from above, carrying a hint of imperceptible hoarseness. He was suspended at the top of the circular frame, half his body submerged in an open maintenance hatch, his hands moving with the grace of a butterfly as he adjusted the dense array of energy node couplers inside. There were dark, heavy circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin, but his gaze was strikingly brilliant, like tempered starlight.

"Phase shift of 0.3 degrees at the seventh node coupler, the energy flow is turbulent! Duan Peng, get me the No. 7 calibrator, quick!" His voice rose sharply, laced with urgency.

Duan Peng cursed under his breath, yet he sprang up as if coiled with springs, snatching a metal rod flickering with a faint blue light from a workbench littered with bizarre instruments and throwing it up.

Xu Yan didn’t even look; he caught it steadily with a backhand, thrust it into the hatch, and a subtle but high-pitched buzzing sound immediately filled the air.

The warehouse's heavy airtight door slid open just enough for Jing Zhimin to slip inside before closing it again. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but the deep creases between his brows and the irrepressible exhaustion in his eyes spoke volumes about the negotiations he had just endured. He swept his gaze over the battlefield-like warehouse and the two young men who looked as though they had been fished out of an oil slick, finally resting his eyes on the "Cocoon Chamber," which radiated an ominous aura.

"Progress?" Jing Zhimin’s voice was low, carrying the texture of grinding metal.

"The frame and the core energy matrix are... barely assembled, Captain." Duan Peng wiped the sweat from his face, leaving streaks of grease. "It’s just this heart..." He pointed to the hatch Xu Yan was tinkering with. "It’s like an ancestor; it goes on strike at the drop of a hat."

Xu Yan poked his head out of the hatch. "The energy converter is a bigger problem than anticipated. The simplified design sacrificed stability. Once the 'Mobius Field' buffer circuit from the original design was cut, the energy flow became incredibly volatile, like... a wild horse without a bridle." He caught his breath, his sharp gaze fixing on Jing Zhimin. "I need the 'Stardust No. 7' coating, at least five hundred grams! It will significantly improve node coupling efficiency and heat resistance, reducing the risk of turbulence!"

Jing Zhimin’s jaw tightened visibly.

"Stardust No. 7?" He practically squeezed the words through his teeth. "That’s the core coating for the orbital airborne special forces' armor! It’s S-3 restricted! The amount you’re asking for would have those old foxes in the Equipment Department tearing me limb from limb!" He paced irritably. "Three days! Three hundred grams at most! I’ll find a way... to scrape it out of the 'scrap heap'!"

Xu Yan nodded firmly and buried his head back into the maintenance hatch, where dangerous arcs of electricity continued to flicker.

Three days later, a small canister of silver powder, shimmering with a strange, starry light, was secretly delivered. When Xu Yan carefully applied the priceless "Stardust No. 7" to the critical energy nodes, the entire "Cocoon Chamber" frame seemed to emit a satisfied hum, and the circulating energy pathways appeared to grow a fraction more docile.

The first internal test.

Duan Peng stood before the open entrance of the "Cocoon Chamber," looking at the bare metal inner walls and the few crude restraint straps.

The air seemed to solidify, with nothing but the low hum of the energy matrix, echoing through the warehouse like the heartbeat of a behemoth. Xu Yan stood before the main control console, the cold light of the screen reflecting on his face, leaving him looking calm, though his tightly pressed lips betrayed a hint of gravity. He looked at Duan Peng, as if trying to read something on his face, and finally gave a slight nod.

Duan Peng grinned, a smile mixed with determination and excitement. "Wait here to celebrate my success!"

Without further hesitation, he strode into the "Cocoon Chamber." The heavy alloy hatch slid shut behind him, sealing perfectly and cutting him off from the outside world. Inside, there was only the monotonous hum and his own heart, beating like a war drum.

"Duan Peng in position. Systems self-check initiated." Xu Yan’s voice came through the internal comms, calm and ripple-free.

"Received," Duan Peng’s voice replied through the speaker, carrying a metallic resonance.

"Initiating Level 1 energy injection. Target: Simulate standard Blue Star gravity, duration ten seconds."

Xu Yan’s fingers tapped the command into the console.

The humming sound rose sharply!

Duan Peng instantly felt his body sink, as if a thousand-pound boulder had been placed on his shoulders, and the metal floor beneath him became incredibly solid. But it didn't feel uncomfortable; rather, there was a sense of reassurance in being grounded. "Gravity normal! Feels... not bad!"

"Injection stable. Preparing to initiate environmental field generation... three, two, one, initiate!"

*BOOM—!*

It was as if an invisible thunderbolt had exploded inside the "Cocoon Chamber"!

The entire circular hull shook violently, emitting a teeth-grinding metallic screech! Duan Peng was slammed hard against the cold bulkhead by a massive force, his internal organs shifting out of place! Blinding white light surged from every direction; all he could see was a vast, empty whiteness!

On the main console, the light columns representing environmental parameters danced wildly. Temperature, air pressure, humidity... every value was skyrocketing out of control like a wild horse! A piercing alarm instantly tore through the silence of the warehouse!

"Warning! Energy turbulence! Core temperature exceeding limits! Pressure field imbalance!" The cold, electronic voice broadcasted mercilessly.

Xu Yan’s pupils contracted sharply! His fingers became a blur on the console, frantically inputting correction commands. "Duan Peng! Report status!"

"Ugh—ah!" A pained grunt came from the comms, followed by violent coughing. "The... pressure... it’s rising... like... like being shoved into the deep sea... can’t breathe... hot... so hot!" His voice was hoarse and distorted, filled with raw physical agony.

"Hold on! I’m rebalancing the field!"

Blue veins bulged on Xu Yan’s forehead, and sweat instantly soaked his temples. On the screen, the red warning zones expanded continuously. The light column representing the stability of the "Cocoon Chamber" swayed violently like a candle in the wind, on the verge of being extinguished completely!

Jing Zhimin stood behind Xu Yan. Though he appeared calm, his face was already ashen, his eyes fixed on the red alarm that symbolized destruction. At this critical juncture, a microscopic, irrational flash of resolve flickered in Xu Yan’s eyes. He abruptly pulled his fingers from the keyboard and slammed them onto a physical knob, while his other hand rapidly flipped three sets of energy channel hard-switches that were almost never used!

This was not a programmed command; it was more like an... instinctive, near-gambling intuitive operation!

*WUMM—!*

A low, extreme energy whine sounded.

The wildly jumping light columns suddenly stalled! The energy turbulence, which had been raging like a tsunami, was forcibly choked off by an invisible giant hand! The blinding white light quickly receded, and the violent shaking of the hull subsided as if its bones had been pulled out.

On the main console, the out-of-control parameters began to recede slowly like a retreating tide. Although they still hovered at high levels, they were no longer skyrocketing toward destruction! The piercing alarm settled into a low, continuous buzzing.

"Pressure... is dropping... temperature... too... coming down..." Duan Peng’s weak voice came through in broken fragments, trembling with the shock of survival and disbelief. "I... I’m okay... still alive... system... stabilized?"

A deathly silence hung in the warehouse. Only the low hum of the energy matrix and Duan Peng’s heavy breathing could be heard through the speakers.

In the center of the console screen, the numbers representing the environmental simulation runtime ticked forward laboriously: 5:00... 5:01... 5:02...

Five seconds... ten seconds... thirty seconds... a full five minutes!

The glaring red light column finally stabilized within a dangerous, yet non-critical, yellow range!

"Success... partially..." Xu Yan exhaled a long, silent breath. His military uniform was completely soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to his skin like ice. His fingers, which had been gripping the edge of the console, trembled slightly. That momentary operation seemed to have exhausted his entire spirit.

Jing Zhimin’s tense body relaxed as well. He raised a hand and wiped the cold sweat that had instantly beaded on his forehead with his sleeve—a rough gesture born of lingering fear. He looked at the five-minute mark frozen on the screen, then at the energy core reading, which still glowed yellow. Only he knew how complex his feelings were.

It was a success, but this success was so fragile, with the cost being a core system that functioned like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.

"Shut down the system!"
"Open pressure relief and cooling!"
"Prepare to open the hatch!"

A series of commands began to be executed, both through his voice and his hands.

The heavy hatch slid open with a hiss, and hot air mixed with the scent of ozone rushed out. Duan Peng stumbled out, his face as pale as paper, his lips blue, and his body drenched in sweat as if he had just been pulled from the water. He leaned against the hatch, gasping for air, but his eyes were startlingly bright. He stared fixedly at Xu Yan, roaring hoarsely: "Old Xu! That... that last move of yours... it was god-like! What kind of operation was that?!"

Xu Yan did not answer. He merely stepped forward to support the nearly exhausted Duan Peng, a trace of indescribable fatigue and a confusion only he could understand flickering deep within his eyes.

That "intuition" in that split second... was it really his own?