Kane's heart sank. He crouched down, carefully clearing away the surrounding debris with his battle blade. The armor was too badly damaged, almost welded to the molten metal structure; inside… there couldn't be any sign of life.
Beside the wreckage, he found a burnt, deformed part, but still vaguely recognizable as a spare energy core slot for a blaster, and half a broken barrel belonging to Rex's unique model of blaster.
The evidence was brutal enough.
Kane silently stood up and gave a standard Alliance salute to the silent pile of wreckage. No remains, no farewell, only this cold metal tomb. He silently changed Rex's status in his mind to "KIA."
Suppressing his surging emotions, Kane began to examine the damage to the engine compartment, and more importantly, search for any unusual crystal residue or energy signatures.
He carefully scanned the engine wreckage, the broken energy conduits, and the points where the explosion was most violent. Aside from the catastrophic physical damage and normal energy leaks, no familiar grayish-white crystalline substance or unique energy fluctuations were detected.
It seemed the destruction of the power bay was purely a technical disaster, unrelated to the "Pandora's Stone."
This brought him a slight sense of relief, but the thorn in his side hadn't completely disappeared. The faint echoing signal remained a mystery.
As he prepared to leave, his flashlight swept across a relatively intact corner of the power bay, where an emergency supply cabinet stood. The cabinet door had been flung open, and most of its contents were scattered, but he noticed that deep inside, a small, black metal box appeared intact.
He walked over and picked up the box. It was light, unmarked, but made of a special material, seemingly possessing strong shock and energy interference resistance. He tried to open it, discovering it required a specific bio-key or command.
This wasn't standard equipment. Perhaps Rex's personal belongings?
Kane carefully put the box away, took one last look at the ruins that buried his comrades, and turned to leave the power bay.
Back on the bridge, Leah immediately reported: "Internal scan complete, no abnormal energy signature detected. External signal echoes remain weak and chaotic, unable to be further analyzed. Distress signals continue to be sent, no response yet."
Kane placed the black box on the control panel. "Found this in the engine room, needs to be cracked."
Leah's attention was drawn to it. She reached out, her fingertips touching the surface of the box; a subtle stream of data flashed. "...High encryption level, non-military standard algorithm...like...a custom-made high-level encryption lock. It will take time to crack."
Kane nodded. Now, it seemed all they could do was wait and repair.
The Nightingale, like a truly lone boat, drifted in the silent, boundless ocean of space. Behind it, the afterglow of the CME was slowly fading, and the G-173 system gradually returned to its cold, lifeless state. Ahead lay unknown darkness and a faint glimmer of hope.
The fifteen-day countdown began silently.
The faint echo from the depths of the CME cloud, like a ghostly whisper, continued in the background, reminding them that some shadows may never truly dissipate.