Li Chenyuan's order to "prepare the shuttle" was like a massive rock thrown into a still lake, stirring up a thousand waves within Zero Station—not cheers of fervor, but a suppressed undercurrent following a moment of dead silence.
"Are you insane?!" Lu Xingze was the first to erupt, pointing at the hellish storm map on the main screen. "Attempting a suborbital shuttle run in an ice storm of this magnitude? This isn't a rescue mission; it's suicide! What's the success rate? Wang Jing, tell him!"
Wang Jing's complexion wasn't much better than Su Xiaolan's. His fingers trembled as he pulled up a series of complex model calculations. "Based on the maximum pressure resistance parameters of the 'Polaris' shuttle and the current escalating trend of the ice storm... the probability of successfully breaking through the storm front and reaching the target area is below fifteen percent. Furthermore, this will deplete over eighty percent of our reserve high-purity energy reserves. If we fail, or if the shuttle is severely damaged and cannot return, Zero Station's defense matrix will drop by at least two levels due to energy shortage."
The cold data, the cruel reality. Each point hit like a sledgehammer against their newly found resolve.
"So we just let them die?" Li Chenyuan's voice held no fluctuation. His gaze swept over everyone present, finally landing on Su Xiaolan in the medical pod. "And then wait for that so-called 'IT' to finish them off before coming for us? Don't forget, the 'Cradle' might concern all of us. This isn't a multiple-choice question; it's a question of survival."
He paused, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll bear the risk. I'll take responsibility for the consequences. Now, execute the order. Wang Jing, I want you to produce an optimized flight plan within twenty minutes, even if it only improves the success rate by one percent. Everyone else, begin shuttle launch preparations immediately. Prioritize life support systems and armor integrity."
Absolute authority quashed all debate. Zero Station began to operate like a war machine, spinning madly around the launch of the "Polaris."
The choice of personnel came next.
"I'm going," Li Chenyuan stated, brooking no argument."I have to go. Only I can interface with their systems," Wang Jing said, pushing his glasses up, his eyes determined.The third spot became the new eye of the storm.
"Take me!" Lu Xingze practically rushed up to Li Chenyuan, his eyes shining with a mix of fear and fanaticism. "The 'Cradle'! It's a discovery more astounding than the Ψ core! You don't need a soldier who only knows how to shoot; you need a mind that can understand and utilize the situation on the ground immediately! My value is in the field!"
"Your value is in your mind, Dr. Lu," Li Chenyuan said coldly, staring him down. "But your physical fitness and combat awareness are liabilities. I need a soldier who can follow orders absolutely and protect the technical personnel in extreme environments." His gaze moved past Lu Xingze to a silent but hawk-eyed Star Shield soldier behind him. "Lei Hao, you're with me."
Lu Xingze's face flushed crimson. He wanted to argue further, but Li Chenyuan raised a hand to stop him. "Your battlefield is here. Assist Su Xiaolan in stabilizing Zero Station and continue analyzing any data we might transmit. That's an order."
This decision robbed Lu Xingze of the chance to touch the "truth" he craved, relegating him once again to "logistics." He nearly gritted his teeth to dust but couldn't refuse.
The most difficult farewell was between Li Chenyuan and Su Xiaolan.
He walked to the medical pod, knelt beside it, and took her ice-cold hand. A thousand words clogged his chest, but in the end all he said was: "Wait for me."
Su Xiaolan weakly shook her head, not in refusal, but with immense worry. With great effort, she raised her other hand and gently placed the crumpled potato chip bag she had been clutching tightly into Li Chenyuan's palm. Inside the bag, the chip left by Gu Yu emitted a faint, warm glow through the plastic.
"Take it," her voice was barely a whisper, yet carried a strange firmness. "Perhaps... Senior's will... also wants to protect all of us... until the end."
It was more than just a token; it was a symbolic entrustment, handing over the obsessions of the past and the hopes of the future into his hands. Li Chenyuan tightly gripped the cheap yet immensely heavy bag, solemnly placed it in his inner pocket, and nodded without another word.
The final discovery came at the most tense moment before departure.
While repeatedly cross-checking the Corona Borealis schematics, Wang Jing suddenly let out a suppressed gasp: "Wait! Here... this auxiliary structure next to the power core... its energy signature frequency... has a high similarity to Xiaolan's Anchor resonance waveform!"
He overlaid the two waveform diagrams. Though one was strong and the other weak, their core harmonic patterns were almost identical!
"This 'Cradle'... could it be some kind of... Anchor amplifier? Or... resonator?" Lu Xingze, drawn by the discovery, temporarily forgot his anger, lost in thought. "If so... protecting it isn't just for them, it's also to maintain or even strengthen our own Custodian Mode!"
This discovery, like the final puzzle piece, shifted the meaning of this venture from "rescuing allies" partially to "safeguarding a key to our own future." The last trace of hesitation vanished.
Launch.
The "Polaris" heavy shuttle, like a shark forged from steel, slowly slid out of Zero Station's hangar bay and was instantly swallowed by the raging wind and snow. Its tail flames were just a negligible speck of faint red in the boundless white.
Supported by Lu Xingze (his face still grim, but fulfilling his duty), Su Xiaolan insisted on coming to the observation window to watch that red speck disappear into the chaos of the polar night.
The comm channel held only monotonous wind noise and static.
A few minutes later, Wang Jing's fragmented voice broke through the interference: "Breaking through... first turbulence layer... hull integrity... stable... entering... eyewall... comms expected to..."
His words were completely drowned out by a burst of extremely sharp noise, like metal being torn apart.
The signal indicator light died completely.
The radar screen showed only endless white noise.
Inside Zero Station, a dead silence fell. Only the endless roar of the storm hammered against everyone's nerves.
Su Xiaolan's hand pressed tightly against the cold observation window, as if she could touch the departed comrades.
Her heartbeat synchronized with the silence in the distance.