In the silent cosmic space, the Black Tortoise spread its wings, wrapped in electric light, streaking like a meteor with a long tail.
A month had passed, and unsurprisingly, communication with Earth had become extremely difficult.
What was initially thought to be an easy journey turned out to be unexpectedly arduous.
Before departure, Zhou Tianming had imagined spending the two-month voyage designing Gundam frames, recharging, and reading—thinking it would pass in a blink. Yet after just one month, he already felt isolated and abandoned by the world.
Fortunately, the Black Tortoise still had Bai Tu and Natarle aboard.
However, with the recent network instability and impending disconnection, White Rabbit had fallen into withdrawal symptoms like a net-addicted teenager trying to quit.
Response speed had slowed by 100%, and the duplicates inside the ship appeared half-dead. Occasionally, a White Rabbit corpse could be seen lying in the hallway. In the study, Natarle and Zhou Tianming sat side by side on the sofa, leaning against each other.
Zhou Tianming held a drawing board with the basic outline of a Gundam frame completed, while he fine-tuned the more intricate internal structures. Natarle, meanwhile, was carefully reading a Chinese copy of The Art of War, extending the book to Zhou Tianming whenever she encountered an unfamiliar idiom to ask for its meaning.
By around 5 PM, the two went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Natarle clumsily ruined ingredients while Zhou Tianming laughed at her from the sidelines. During the meal, Natarle took a bite of mapo tofu, swallowed, and said, "It tastes a bit odd. Did the tofu not turn out well?"
"Really?" Zhou Tianming scooped a spoonful and ate it. "Seems fine to me."
"Here, try this." Natarle used her own spoon to feed him a piece of tofu.
He opened his mouth and ate it. "The flavor's fine, but the texture is a bit strange."
Glancing at Natarle, Zhou Tianming remarked, "You can detect such subtle issues? I'm impressed."
"I've eaten enough mapo tofu to know a thing or two."
They chatted and laughed as they ate.
Ding-dong-dong.
A simulated bell chimed nine times over the intercom.
Zhou Tianming and Natarle exchanged glances before bursting into laughter simultaneously.
"Time flies. We haven't even washed the dishes yet."
Zhou Tianming gathered the dishes and tossed them into the dishwasher.
Nearby, Natarle stood up. "I'll take the night shift on the Bridge."
Pressing the buttons to operate the dishwasher without turning around, Zhou Tianming asked, "Still taking shifts today? Until when?"
"I'll stay until midnight before resting."
"Honestly, we could leave this to White Rabbit. Besides, no one's going to pop up this far from Earth."
Natarle shook her head. "Not every spaceship is like the Black Tortoise. This is a rare opportunity for me to adapt. One day, I'll have my own crew and warship."
With that, she left the kitchen.
"Dreams, huh~" Zhou Tianming murmured to himself. "One commands a warship, the other pilots a Gundam. A perfect match."
A smirk curled at the corner of his lips.
Around 10 p.m., on the Bridge—
Natarle sat upright in the captain's seat, dressed in her officer's uniform, meticulously operating the small screen in front of her to monitor the Black Tortoise's status and the surrounding conditions.
Swish—
The door slid open as Zhou Tianming walked in, holding a cup of coffee. He handed it to her. "Here, to keep you sharp."
Taking a sip, Natarle exhaled deeply, her expression brightening slightly. "Aren't you going to sleep?"
"Nothing else to do. Thought I'd keep you company."
With that, he plopped down on the floor, leaning his back against her calf, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
Gently running her fingers through Zhou Tianming's shoulder-length black hair, Natarle spoke softly, "You don't have to go out of your way to accompany me."
Zhou Tianming remained silent, eyes shut as if asleep.
Natarle sighed, supporting his shoulder as she stood from the chair and sat down beside him. She laid Zhou Tianming's head on her lap. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he adjusted into a comfortable position.
"Stay still," Natarle chided, lightly pinching his cheek.
The two stayed quietly on the Bridge—one lying down, the other seated.
Days passed. On the evening of the 48th day—
Zhou Tianming and Natarle watched a popcorn movie about an alien invasion on the Bridge.
The plot was thrilling, the logic seamless, and the aliens' design felt eerily realistic.
As the movie ended, Zhou Tianming stretched. "Time for bed~"
Natarle remained silent. Curious, he glanced at her.
Her expression was grave, tinged with worry.
Zhou Tianming couldn't help but laugh. "Natarle, you didn't actually believe it, did you? That's just a movie. Fiction."
"O-of course I know it's fake," Natarle stammered, her gaze shifting. "I'm just worried... what if aliens like that really exist?"
"Haha, PLANT's Evidence 01 has been sitting there for ages, and no alien's come to claim it, let alone intelligent extraterrestrials."
"But what if! What if!"
Meeting Natarle's earnest purple eyes, Zhou Tianming leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I'll protect you."
Her face flushed crimson as she shoved him away and fled.
Rubbing his smooth chin, Zhou Tianming grinned mischievously. "80%... no, 90%!"
Chuckling to himself, he headed to his room to sleep.
At 1 a.m., Natarle, clad in a white tank top and clutching a pillow, tiptoed to Zhou Tianming's door. "White Rabbit, open the door for me."
Swish—
The door slid open. Natarle crept inside and, seeing Zhou Tianming motionless in the center of the bed, slowly lay down beside him.
Once settled, she exhaled, her face burning. "White Rabbit, wake me up early tomorrow. And don't tell Tianming I was here."
White Rabbit's voice suddenly echoed from the room's speakers. "Understood."
Natarle jolted. "Quiet! Quiet!"
She glanced back at Zhou Tianming—he remained still.
"No need to worry. At this hour, no amount of noise will wake the master."
Puzzled, she asked, "Tianming sleeps this deeply at night?"
Curious, she leaned closer, brushing aside his black hair. Her fingers touched his soft skin—only to find it ice-cold.
Her heart skipped a beat as Natarle sensed something wrong. She urgently patted Zhou Tianming's cheeks, "Tian Ming! Tian Ming!"
But he lay as still as death, completely unresponsive.
She quickly placed her fingers beneath his nose—his breathing was frighteningly faint.
Leaning over his chest, she listened closely—his heartbeats came at alarmingly long intervals.
Natarle silently counted—only 30 beats per minute.
"How long has Tian Ming been like this?"
"Records from the past month show the master exhibits this condition during sleep. Sometimes he recovers within minutes, other times it persists for over ten hours."
Worry creased Natarle's face, "Does Tian Ming have any medical conditions?"
"Unknown."
Lying down beside him, Natarle held Zhou Tianming's hand tightly, keeping silent vigil.
Around 4 AM, Natarle distinctly felt Zhou Tianming's body reviving.
A quick examination confirmed his temperature returning, breathing strengthening, and heartbeat accelerating.
Relieved, Natarle's Mindpower relaxed as exhaustion washed over her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she unknowingly slipped into deep sleep.
At 7 AM, Zhou Tianming awoke, immediately sensing someone beside him, the familiar scent filling his nostrils.
Turning gently toward Natarle, he gazed at her sleeping face with a triumphant smile.
Pulling the blanket over her with one arm, he lightly embraced her toned waist, pressing closer until their bodies touched.
Inhaling the fragrance of her hair, his lips curled uncontrollably as he closed his eyes for more sleep.
Two hours later, a sharp cry pierced the air.
Zhou Tianming found his arm twisted behind his back, a slender hand pressing his face into the pillow.
Natarle's flushed face showed equal parts embarrassment and fury, her expression ultimately settling on "Might as well kill him to silence this."