Who is this person codenamed "Echo"? Did he/she foresee something?
The days of drifting no longer seemed merely to be despairing waiting. They had a goal, a faint yet real hope.
However, just as Kane and Leah began working on modification plans, Leah suddenly issued a warning:
"Commander! That faint signal echo... **is slowly increasing in strength**! Although the increase is small, the trend is definite!"
Kane's heart tightened, and he looked at the main screen. The indicator bar, representing signal strength, was indeed higher than a few days ago.
That wasn't an illusion, nor was it noise.
Something, in the embers of CME, or elsewhere, was... **reviving**.
Hope, like a fragile seedling, had just sprouted when it was attacked by a cold front. The strengthening of the signal echo was like a pair of eyes hidden in the darkness, constantly reminding Kane and Leah that the threat hadn't gone away; on the contrary, it might be brewing a new counterattack.
This pressure translated into a more urgent drive for action. Half of the bridge was temporarily transformed into a makeshift workshop. Leah carefully disassembled the damaged communication array secondary focusing module and the high-precision navigation timing crystal, which were then transported there by maintenance robots. Tools, cables, and spare parts were scattered everywhere, and the air was thick with the smell of ozone and metalworking.
Kane wasn't an engineer, but he possessed excellent logical thinking and an understanding of system architecture. He was responsible for performing basic physical assembly and wiring work based on the blueprints provided by Leah. His bionic arm provided stability and precision far exceeding that of ordinary humans, enabling him to perform extremely delicate operations.
Leah was the core of the entire project. She not only had to design specific modification plans but also constantly perform simulations and adjust the parameters of the resonant frequency to match the still faint but increasing energy echo. Her eyes were almost constantly scanning with a high-intensity data stream, occasionally pausing briefly due to a computational bottleneck, the cooling fans beneath her synthetic skin humming softly.
"The plasma guide ring of the focusing module needs recalibration; the deviation cannot exceed 0.01 micrometers." Leah's voice was hoarse with focused concentration as she projected a holographic diagram in front of Kane, marking the nodes requiring adjustment.
Kane nodded, picked up the micro-sculpting laser pointer, and began operating with surgical precision. His movements were steady, but his mind was far from calm. The theory codenamed "Echo" was unfathomable; translating it into a practical device was a delicate gamble. They were trying to create a weapon that could potentially counter a cosmic threat using a pile of wreckage—it sounded almost like a fantasy.
"The energy source is a problem," Leah said, processing the data interface of the timing crystal. "The ship's backup power must prioritize the life support system. The energy we can allocate to this prototype is very limited; it might only be enough to sustain one…at most three seconds of full-power firing."
Three seconds. Three seconds that could decide life or death.
"That's enough," Kane replied without looking up. "If we really need to use it, one second or ten seconds makes no difference." That would be a life-or-death moment.