Kazama Hinata suddenly opened his eyes, struck by a bizarre sense of alertness.

  The angle of light outside—the beam that slanted in through the slats of the blinds and landed precisely on the edge of his pillow, turning the floating dust in the air into tiny fragments of golden powder; even the ceaseless, rhythmically droning cicadas outside… Everything was perfectly aligned with the memories of yesterday morning, so precise it made him feel uneasy. He almost held his breath, his heart pounding heavily in his chest, like a restless drum. His fingertips trembled slightly as they reached for the cool phone beside his pillow.

  The screen lit up, and amidst the dazzling brightness, the date was clearly imprinted: "July 2, Tuesday."

  Hinata blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, even buried his face in the pillow, which smelled of laundry detergent, then looked up again—the date remained unchanged. "What the heck?" he murmured, a wave of inexplicable irritation swelling up, "Is my phone broken? Or am I still half-asleep?" He shook his head, trying to dispel the strange feeling.

  His gaze instinctively swept across the floor of his room—there was nothing there. Wasn't Akira sleeping on the floor in his room yesterday? Where is she? Up so early?

  With a hint of confusion and residual sleepiness, Hinata shuffled out of the room in his slippers. In the living room, his mom was preparing breakfast.

  "Mom, where's Akira Kō? Why are you back so early?" Hinata casually asked, taking a sip from the glass of water on the table.

  Mom turned around, a hint of confusion on her face: "Akira Kō? Hinata, are you still asleep? Akira Kō is definitely at her own home. Didn’t you come back by yourself last night?"

  "Pfft—!" Hinata nearly spurted out the water, jerking his head up in disbelief as he looked at his mom, "Came back by myself? No way! She clearly…" He forcibly swallowed the words "slept on the floor at my place" because his mom’s expression was so natural, as if what he said was pure nonsense.

  A cold chill shot up his spine in an instant, spreading along his vertebrae and causing his scalp to tingle slightly. The date on his phone hadn’t changed… Akira Kō’s "supposed" spot was empty… Even Mom "forgot" about last night’s overnight stay? This is too strange! Absurd thoughts bubbled up uncontrollably like bubbles, only to be forcibly pushed down by him: "Impossible! There must be some mistake!"

  An indescribable heaviness and urgency compelled him to rush out of the house, heading straight to the opposite door—Akira Kō’s home. He needed to confirm, desperately needed to!

  The door to Akira Kō’s house was slightly ajar, and Hinata slipped in effortlessly, heading straight for Akira Kō’s bedroom. His mind was a mess, filled with panic about the current situation, yet still tinged with a bit of the "inertia" from yesterday morning— that cramped thought popped up again: What if she was still lying in bed…

  He quietly pushed open Akira Kō’s bedroom door, his gaze immediately falling on the bed—empty! The blankets were messily piled to one side, but the person was nowhere in sight.

  "Akira Kō?" Hinata tentatively called out, his voice sounding somewhat abrupt in the quiet room. No one responded.

  A sense of unexplainable disappointment, or possibly a deeper chill, enveloped him. He instinctively took two steps toward the bed, scanning the room for clues. Just then—

  "Hey!"

  A loud, crisp shout accompanied by a gust of wind hit from the side! Haruka didn't have time to react at all, only feeling a rather strong "attack" on his rear! He let out a cry and stumbled forward, fortunately managing to grab the edge of the bed to prevent falling.

  He turned around in astonishment, only to see Akira Hikari proudly jumping out from the open wardrobe door with her hands on her hips, a brilliant smile on her face that mixed cunning, excitement, and relief, her clear eyes sparkling as they fixed directly on him.

  "Ha! Gotcha!" Akira Hikari's voice was slightly breathless but full of energy, "So, how’s it going, Haruka-kun? How do you like the taste of the ‘good morning greeting’? This is a ‘return gift’ for that kick you gave me yesterday at my place!" She purposely emphasized the words "return gift," lift her chin slightly, like a kitten that had successfully avenged itself.

  Haruka held the part he had kicked, and after the initial shock wore off, looking at Akira Hikari’s exceptionally bright eyes and her unmistakably "I knew you would come" expression, a thought that was more shocking than an incorrect phone date or a mother forgetting the hostel, like lightning, cleaved through his chaotic mind!

  He forgot the pain, suddenly standing straight, his voice slightly trembling with excitement and disbelief: "You... what did you just say? ‘Yesterday’? ‘Your house’? You... you remember?!"

  Akira Hikari’s smile instantly faded, replaced by a near-manic seriousness as if she had found a kindred spirit. She nodded vigorously, speaking rapidly: "Of course! Why else would I hide in the wardrobe to ambush you? I opened my eyes to find it's still that damned July 2nd, the phone date hasn’t changed, and my parents completely forgot you stayed over at my place last night! I almost thought I was going crazy! Until I thought of..." She took a deep breath, her gaze sharp as it locked onto Haruka, "thought of your infallible ‘prank alarm clock’! I bet you would come over again and want to ‘greet’ me! So..." She gestured at the wardrobe, "waiting for a rabbit!"

  Haruka's pupils constricted sharply, his heart racing as if it would leap out of his chest. He no longer needed to ask about "soda," "breaking news," or "one bite each." Akira Hikari's words, her ambush, her precise "revenge," and that spark in her eyes that mirrored his own — a mixture of fear, absurdity, and... a peculiar excitement — already explained everything!

  "So... it’s not an illusion? I’m not going crazy?" Haruka's voice was dry, pressing heavy like a boulder but with a tremor that hinted at discovering the answer, "Time... is really stuck? We... are trapped in the same day?"

  Akira Hikari didn’t answer, just nodded heavily again, her small chin tightly set, but her eyes sparkled astonishingly, as if igniting a small flame named "we are together" in the abyss of fear.

  The two stood under the morning sunlight, the room so quiet that they could hear each other’s rapid heartbeat. Outside, the cicadas chirped as usual; the world seemed to go on as normal, but they knew that certain things had changed completely and irrevocably. An unusual sense of alliance, understandable only to the two of them, quietly blossomed amid the cold reality and overwhelming absurdity, carrying a secret thrill belonging to youth as they faced the unknown challenges ahead.

  The morning sunlight slanted over the shimmering pool, and the air was filled with the mixed scent of disinfectant and humidity. Students in swimsuits lined up loosely at the poolside. The physical education teacher, Saito — a tall, stout woman with a loud voice — marched over, hands on her hips, scanning the crowd.

  "Alright, alright, everyone is here, right?" Her voice boomed like a bell, carrying the usual roughness. "Listen up! Next week is the final swimming test, and today! This is the last freestyle practice class before the exam!" She waved her hand, pointing at the sparkling blue water, "Stop standing there like idiots! Those who want to practice technique, go ahead, and those who just want to relax and play in the water, enjoy yourselves! Disperse!"

  As soon as she finished speaking, the crowd cheered and scattered, splashing into the water with a cacophony of sounds. Haruka was stretching his wrists, contemplating whether to swim a few laps or... At that moment, Akira came over, her body still glistening with water vapor, her cheeks slightly flushed, whether from exercise or something else was unclear. She gently tugged at the hem of his swim trunks, her voice low yet clear: "Haruka, don’t rush into the water. Come sit over here for a bit?" She pointed to a relatively quiet spot at the edge of the pool, partially shaded by trees.

  Haruka nodded and followed Akira over. The two of them sat directly on the cool tiled edge of the pool, dipping their feet into the refreshing water, the waves gently lapping against their skin.

  Akira didn’t look at him, but instead stared down at her legs submerged in the water. The clear water rippled slightly, reflecting fragments of sunlight. Suddenly, she reached out her hand, her fingertip lightly brushing a spot on the outer side of her thigh just above the knee—there, she had accidentally scraped against the pool wall while evading Haruka's "water cannon" the day before, leaving a faint red mark.

  "Haruka," Akira's voice was soft, tinged with a subtle curiosity, "look here."

  Haruka followed her finger. The skin there, wet from the water, appeared exceptionally smooth and white; there was not a trace of a scar to be seen. Instinctively, he extended his own finger, cool from the water, gently touching the spot Akira had just pointed to. The sensation was delicate and cool, the skin intact, without even the slightest bump or color difference.

  "There’s… not a trace left," Haruka murmured, his fingertip lingering on that smooth skin, feeling its flawless coolness. This ironclad evidence silently conveyed the chilling "reset" power of the relentless march of time.

  Akira quickly retracted her leg, as if the touch and Haruka's whisper had scalded her. She stood up abruptly, sending a splash of water flying, her previously flushed cheeks now seemed even redder, yet her eyes shone with a deliberate brightness and a determination to shake off the gloom. "Hey!" She raised her voice, interrupting Haruka’s train of thought, "Stop sitting there thinking! The water's for playing, not for daydreaming!" Before she finished, she leaned slightly forward and executed a graceful dive, splashing into the water like a nimble mermaid. Soon, she popped her head above the surface a few meters away, shook her wet hair, and shouted at Haruka, "Get down here! Silly Haruka! If you keep daydreaming, I’ll drag you in!"

  Haruka watched her lively figure in the water, then looked down at his finger, which had just touched Akira's thigh. That smooth, unblemished sensation seemed to linger. Time loop... body repair... His brows furrowed slightly, the clouds of doubt in his mind hadn’t dissipated due to Akira’s interruption; instead, they grew heavier. He took a deep breath, as if trying to clear the fog in his mind, and then mechanically stood up, sliding into the water along the pool's edge. The cool water enveloped his body, but as he floated at the surface, his gaze was unfocused, staring at the shimmering bottom of the pool, with thoughts still entangled in that eerily smooth skin and the "July 2nd" that was trapped in place.

  "Have you had enough, Kazama Haruka!" Akira's voice suddenly shot up, infused with an artificially created energy to dispel the gloom, her face contorting into an exaggerated, provocative smile, though the tension in her eyes betrayed her. Before her words could even settle, she lunged forward like an offended arrow fish, her cool and powerful hands firmly gripping Haruka's wet shoulders, using her strength to push him down, then pressing his head firmly into the water with her abdomen, completing the motion in one swift action!

  "Puh—gulu gulu……" A huge water pressure and the cold pool water ruthlessly rushed into his mouth and nose, the spicy sting rushing straight to the top of his head! Haruka was caught off guard, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate struggle to break the surface, coughing violently and spluttering out water vapor: "Cough cough cough… Hoshino Akira, are you crazy?!"

  Akira stands in the water with his hands on his hips, looking at his embarrassing situation with pride: "Let me help you clear your mind! So you don't just stand there like a log!"

  The suppressed anger and resentment, like boiling oil, erupted within him! As he coughed and struggled to breathe, he let out a roar, took a deep breath, and with astonishing power, kicked off the pool wall! Using the surging recoil, he shot out of the water like a torpedo, creating a massive whirlpool and a curtain of water, crazily charging toward the sunlight! His arms generated a colossal wave that blocked the sky, crashing down violently!

  "Ah——!" Akira only had time to let out a pitchy scream before being completely submerged by the terrifying wave, stumbling backward with hair stuck to her face, unable to open her eyes due to the stinging pain. Coughing violently while frantically rubbing her face, her anger was instantly ignited: "Kazama Haruka! You bastard!! Ambush King! Scoundrel!!"

  The flames of battle escalated in an instant! Hinata swiftly distanced himself after landing a blow, dodging like a slippery eel. The enraged Akira transformed into a female leopard, relentless in his pursuit, unleashing an unprecedentedly dense and fierce "water cannon" assault, with his arms spinning like windmills, sending heavy walls of water crashing down on Hinata! The pond was turned upside down, the enormous sounds of splashing water, exploding waves, and the frantic roars and screams from both men merged into a chaotic sea of fury.

  In a fierce close-quarters chase, Akira caught Hinata's moment of distraction as she avoided the splashes from the side, held her breath, leaned forward, and suddenly accelerated forward! She used the buoyancy and momentum of the water, causing Hinata to instantly lose balance, the whole person being forcefully pushed downward by this power!

  "Wow!" Hinata felt a tightness in his chest, his body uncontrollably leaning back and sinking deeper, just as he was about to be pushed underwater! In this critical moment, desperate to break free from the pressure and create an opportunity for a counterattack, he abruptly kicked out with both legs in the water! One of his legs, with a hint of panic and instinctive force, kicked lightly but decisively beneath Akira's body.

  "Ugh!" Akira let out a muffled grunt, his momentum interrupted as his body swayed slightly.

  Haruka seized the opportunity to break free, darting a few meters away like a startled rabbit, and turned back to taunt: "We're even now!"

  Akira Kogane stabilized her posture, her face a fierce mix of "How dare you" and "You'd better watch out," brimming with vitality. She wiped the water off her face, gritting her teeth as she smiled, "Kazuya Kazama! You're dead meat! If I don't dunk you ten times in the water today, then I'm not Akira Kogane!"

  "Come on! Are you afraid of me?" Hinata was also invigorated, overwhelmed by the rising desire to fight.

  Like two beasts, the two pounced on each other again, sending splashes flying even more violently! Just as the battle reached a fever pitch, Hinata saw that Akira was about to pounce on him and lock him down —

  "Toot——!!!"

  A sharp, loud whistle pierced through the noise of the swimming pool! The gym teacher stood at the poolside, hands on hips, looking helpless as he shouted, "Hey, Kazama! Hoshino! You two! Have you had enough? Class is over! Hurry up and come out!"

  ?

  Feeling as if he had been granted a reprieve, Hinata immediately raised his hands in surrender and said, "Yes! Teacher!" Then, taking advantage of the moment Akira was distracted by the whistle, he swiftly turned and darted to the ladder, scrambling up the bank with hands and feet, rushing towards the men's changing room without looking back, leaving behind a spray of water and a shout fading in the distance, "Next time we battle! Akira!"

  Akira, frustrated, stomped his feet in the water (though the splashes were minor), shaking his fist at Hinata’s retreating figure, "Just wait! Kazama Hinata! Next time, I’ll make sure you drink your fill!"

  The warm water washed over his body, carrying away the pool's chill and the fatigue of the roughhousing. Kobayashi Chinatsu rinsed her hair while watching Akira next to her, still angrily scrubbing his arms, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

  "Hey, hey, Akira, you and Kazama were way too intense today, right? You two almost flipped the whole pool upside down." Chinatsu joked, "I think I just saw… did Haruka-kun kick you in the water? The position was pretty… hmm?" She squinted her eyes playfully.

  Akira paused momentarily, a barely perceptible blush rising to her face, quickly hidden by the steam of the water. She snorted and pretended to be indifferent as she continued rinsing, "Hmph! What’s that! This morning at his place, I gave him a solid slap on the butt! It’s only fair!" She emphasized "slap," sounding quite self-righteous.

  "Eh?!" Chinatsu widened her eyes in surprise, then revealed an envious smile, "Wow… you two really have a great relationship! All that roughhousing is so enviable. I wish Ryu and I… could be as natural as you two." Her tone carried a hint of longing.

  Akiyoko felt a bit of the irritation that had arisen from Hinata's escape dissipate at Chika's words, and instead, a warm feeling and... a small sense of triumph rose within her. She shook her damp hair and smiled, saying, "It'll definitely be fine! Chika, you're so cute, and the dragon will surely..."

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  In the midst of the conversation, Aki realized the deeper meaning behind Chika's words—"being close" enough to slap each other's butts and kick each other around... This, this sounded so much like... She suddenly clicked, her face turning bright red, and she quickly waved her hands, her voice rising a few notches: "Ah! Wait! Chika, don’t get the wrong idea! I and Hinata are not that kind of relationship! We are just... just childhood friends who grew up together, silly friends! Yes! Silly friends! Absolutely not dating! No!"

  Seeing the flustered expression on Akira's face as he hurriedly tried to explain and clear his name, Chika's smile deepened, carrying a sense of "I get it, I get it": "I know, I know~ Just a teasing friend~ The kind of teasing friend that's super close~" She deliberately elongated her tone.

  "Chika!" Akira shouted in embarrassment, feeling increasingly flustered. She quickly turned off the faucet, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself haphazardly. "I, I’ll go change my clothes first!" After saying that, she dashed out of the shower like a startled doe, leaving Chika behind, unable to suppress her laughter.

  Akiyuki quickly walked towards the changing area, her heart still racing. She touched the spot where she had been kicked by Haruka earlier (it didn't really hurt anymore), and remembered the expression on his face when she had slapped his butt that morning, his body freezing in an instant; the corners of her mouth unconsciously lifted slightly. Silly Haruka... she murmured to herself, and that bit of panic was gradually replaced by an indescribable, warm feeling.

  During the lunch break, under the blazing sun, the heat poured down mercilessly onto the scorching ground like molten gold, swirling up waves of distortion in the air. The atmosphere seemed to sizzle, sticking uncomfortably to the skin and making it hard to breathe. With the temperature nearly hot enough to fry an egg, Haruka pushed open the heavy glass door of the school library once again, carrying a strange and heavy feeling in his heart.

  The cold air, mixed with the unique scent of old books, enveloped him instantly, bringing a touch of dry coolness that slightly dissipated the burning stickiness of his skin, yet made his already taut nerves more sensitive due to the cycle. He instinctively shrugged his shoulders and walked toward the familiar dark wooden counter, the sound of his footsteps echoing clearly in the quiet space.

  Chinatsu Kobayashi sat upright behind the counter, her back straight as if sculpted. Every button on her uniform jacket was meticulously fastened, and the hem of her dark blue pleated skirt stopped precisely five centimeters above her knees, displaying no wrinkles and pressed perfectly straight. She lowered her head, organizing a stack of borrowing cards, and a meticulously trimmed lock of black bobbed hair fell forward, gently swaying with her subtle movements. Haruka approached the counter, his footsteps catching her attention. She raised her head, her movements fluid like a programmed routine, revealing a pale and serene face, with a delicate pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. The tiny cherry blossom ornament on the temple of her glasses reflected a faint cold light under the overhead lamp.

  "Kazama, returning a book?" Chika's voice rang out, steady and unperturbed, like a precisely calibrated mechanical synthesized voice. The volume, intonation, and even the brief pause perfectly matched those of yesterday and the previous cycle's sound waveforms. Haruka's heart sank suddenly; he fixed his gaze on her eyes, trying to detect any ripple beneath that calm surface—any hint of confusion about yesterday's request? Any sign of bewilderment at the repeating scenario? Or just the slightest inkling of helplessness? But those eyes, hidden behind the lenses, remained tranquil and still, like a bottomless ancient well, reflecting Haruka's figure without a hint of emotional fluctuation. She took the comic book that Haruka handed over, her movements fluid as if following a pre-set program—scan, register, emitting a light "beep," exactly matching yesterday's process to the millisecond. Then, her right hand naturally and with the same angle and force pulled open the brilliantly polished metal drawer. Haruka could even predict where her finger would land—she retrieved the white envelope, perfectly unmarked with unusually crisp edges, from the same specific spot and handed it over. The surface of the envelope was smooth and cold.

  "Please pass this to Sato, and after lunch, ask him to go to the rooftop." The words, actions, and even the way the envelope was handed over, at a 45-degree angle to the tabletop, precisely replicated yesterday's scene. Hinata’s heart sank completely into the abyss—Kobayashi Chinatsu was no different. She was just like everyone else, a cog in a precise machine, running according to the established program, oblivious to the anomalies in time. He silently took the envelope, which felt like a strange cyclical totem, sensing the cold touch of the paper, as if holding a small fragment of frozen time.

  The sun waited outside the library, baking the earth like a furnace. Haruka carefully placed the white envelope and took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the towering rows of bookshelves that almost touched the ceiling. Those heavy books, carrying the crystallized wisdom of humanity, stood silently in the cool air and stillness, exuding a mixed scent of ink and aged paper. A thought flickered like a match striking in the darkness, suddenly illuminating his mind: knowledge! Only knowledge is the anchor! It is the key to breaking this strange cycle! He recalled the disruptive theory of "parallel lines intersecting" from math class and remembered the name linked to "Koha Aoi". This seemed to be the only clue he could grasp, connected to the possible "rules" behind this strange cycle, though as tenuous as a straw in the hands of a drowning person.

  "Classmate Chinatsu," he cleared his dry throat, trying to sound as though he had just thought of a random extracurricular topic, his tone carrying a hint of just the right curiosity, "May I ask… are there any books on quantum mechanics? Something basic, suitable for high school students?" His fingers unconsciously fiddled with the nylon strap of his backpack.

  Chinatsu slightly lifted her gaze, her eyes pausing for a moment on his face through her silver-rimmed glasses, as if confirming whether this boy, usually holding comic magazines and sports weeklies, was joking. A flicker of mild surprise crossed her eyes, fleeting and almost imperceptible, before reverting to a tranquil depth. She did not ask questions; instead, she silently stood up, her footsteps as light as a cat’s, hardly making a sound as she walked directly toward the bookshelf labeled "Popular Science in Physics." Her fingers, as if equipped with a precise navigation system, danced between the densely packed, colorful spines of the books, and within seconds, three books of varying sizes and styles were neatly pulled out. She turned and returned, smoothly placing the three books on the counter in front of Hinata. The spines bumped against the wooden surface, making a soft "tap" sound.

  "A Brief History of the Quantum World: From Planck to Quantum Entanglement, Schr?dinger's Cat: The Thought Experiment That Changed Physics, and Illustrated Quantum Entanglement: Ghostly Actions Beyond Space and Time." Chinatsu’s tone remained calm, as if reciting a list of book titles, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, "These may be suitable for beginners, but the concepts inside might be quite abstract," she paused briefly, adding as if stating an established fact, "Physics, especially in cutting-edge fields, has never promised to be easily understood. Patience is required." Her words were concise and clear, much like her character.

  Hinata expressed his gratitude, feeling as though these three books had become three heavy cornerstones, securely landing in his backpack, bringing an odd sense of stability. He did not leave immediately; instead, he sat down at an empty spot by the window. The large glass window isolated him from the intense heat and noise outside, with cool air gently brushing against his skin. He pulled out the thickest book, "A Brief History of the Quantum World," its deep blue cover adorned with a vast starry sky and abstract particle trajectories, appearing both mysterious and weighty. He opened the somewhat heavy cover, revealing a long list of acknowledgments on the title page. Hinata’s fingers, tinged with a hint of nervous exploration, glided over the unfamiliar, tongue-twisting foreign names. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting bright patches on the yellowed pages.

  Suddenly, his fingertips paused. Among the long line of black words, several key names caught his attention, like stars shining in his gaze, seemingly glowing under the light:

  Max Planck (1900, proposed the quantum hypothesis that energy is not continuous but consists of discrete "quanta," tearing apart the solid curtain of classical physics)

  Werner Heisenberg (1925, established matrix mechanics and proposed the uncertainty principle, stating that it is fundamentally impossible to precisely measure both the position and momentum of particles, revealing an inherent fuzziness in the world)

  Erwin Schr?dinger (1926, derived the wave function equation, the core equation describing the state changes of microscopic particles, wafting ghost-like through space)

  And later on, a somewhat familiar name: Koha Aoi (2024, a scholar who made groundbreaking contributions in the field of quantum communication and information theory)

  Hinata’s heart suddenly tightened, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand! The first stone cast by Planck set off revolutionary ripples in the deep pool of physics; Heisenberg revealed the terrifying, blurry essence of uncertainty in the world, shattering the illusion of determinism; Schr?dinger depicted the ghostly wave nature of microscopic particles that defies intuitive understanding… And Koha Aoi! This name, along with the mind-bending theory of parallel lines from math class, the inevitable particle collider explosion in the evening, and this damned, endlessly repeating July 2nd… felt like an invisible web, with clues converging within it! Koha Aoi’s research project! The destroyed particle collider probably belonged to him! Hinata felt as though his throat had been scraped harshly with sandpaper, dry and painful, nearly impossible to swallow. He abruptly closed the book, as if dropping a hot potato, with a soft "snap." He looked up, his gaze seemingly penetrating the thick walls of the library and layers of bookshelves, directed toward the skyline of the city, where unique, futuristic-looking buildings stood—towards the Future Technology Research Institute. The sunlight was so glaring it made him dizzy, and the cicadas outside buzzed noisily like funeral bells before an apocalypse, hammering on his nerves. Hinata clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening from the exertion, as an impulse named "action" ignited fiercely amidst his fear, dispelling brief confusion. He knew he had to act! No more waiting! Sitting idle would only solidify this relentless cycle!

  As the wall clock's hour hand leisurely pointed to 5:30 PM, Hinata and Akira stood at an intersection two streets away from the entrance of the Future Technology Research Institute. The heatwave distorted the distant scenery, and the exhaust fumes from cars mixed with the steam rising from the ground, forming a sticky layer of air. Each breath felt like swallowing scorching cotton. The two exchanged a glance through the rush of passersby, seeing in each other's eyes a gravity, determination, and a hint of the tragic resolve of heading toward an unknown battlefield. They took a deep breath of the steaming air, like downing shots of strong liquor, then simultaneously exerted themselves, like arrows released from a bow, and sprinted toward the Research Institute!

  On a summer evening, the air was hot and sticky like glue. The wind generated by running offered not a hint of coolness; instead, it felt like a damp cloth wrapping around them, heavy and suffocating. Sweat instantly poured from their foreheads, necks, and backs, clinging their T-shirts to their skin like iron armor. Their lungs expanded and contracted violently, each breath bringing a fiery pain, their nasal passages scorched as if by flames. The asphalt road beneath their feet, roasted under the sun all day, felt scalding like a frying pan, transmitting a burning temperature through their thin soles. But the surging fear within them and an intense determination to change something became the final motivation to push their bodies to the limit. They navigated around an elderly man shuffling along, leaped over curbs, with only the sound of their heavy, cow-like gasps, rapid heartbeats, and the "thud" of their shoes striking the hot pavement filling their ears. Sweat beads trickled down their temples, splashing onto the searing ground below and evaporating instantly.

  As they approached the core area of the research institute, the atmosphere on the street grew increasingly eerie and tense. The usual hustle and bustle of traffic was absent, replaced by an increasing number of patrol cars flashing silent red and blue lights. They stood like silent sentinels, slowly passing at intersections or stationed in place, their engines humming a low, ominous tune. An invisible, suffocating air of killing intent enveloped the area, making pedestrians noticeably quicken their pace, faces etched with expressions of either anxiety or curiosity. Groups lingered together, whispering and pointing towards the research institute, their murmurs coalescing into a stifling background noise. A heavy low atmospheric pressure hung over the region like a tangible weight.

  When they were out of breath, lungs feeling like they were about to explode, and the metallic taste of blood in their throats, they reached a T-junction just under a hundred meters from the grand, titanium-alloy entrance of the research institute. The sight before them instantly chilled their hearts, as a wave of despair washed over them like cold tide.

  The entrance to the research institute was completely blocked off by a larger, more intimidating barrier! The heavy plastic caution tape, stretching across the road and flashing with glaring red letters, resembled a deep, visible wound. Behind it stood a wall of several black SWAT vans, cars with flashing lights serving as roadblocks, and dozens of armed police officers in deep blue tactical vests, helmets on, their faces masked and strictly hidden. They wielded riot shields and weaponry, their vigilant eyes scanning the crowd, exuding a cold air that warned of no approach. Outside the barrier, throngs of people were tightly gathered—frightened families of research institute staff clutching packages or briefcases, press reporters with heavy cameras and long microphone poles, their faces tense, along with more passersby and nearby residents extending their necks and raising their phones to record, their murmurs like muffled thunder. Police used powerful black megaphones, their voices authoritative and cold, echoing in the scorching air, repeating over the crowd's noise: "No entry into the secured area! All personnel, step back immediately! Maintain a safe distance! Step back! Repeat! Step back! Immediate compliance!"

  Hinata instinctively pulled Akira a step behind him, trying to explain: "We... our parents are working inside! We’re really worried!" He struggled to sound calm, though his palms felt slightly sweaty with nerves. He remembered last cycle, when the explosion occurred while they were watching TV at home; that feeling of helpless panic had returned ahead of time.

  "All personnel are in a safe area; please remain calm and cooperate with the police!" The officer's voice was steady and strong, his sharp gaze sweeping over them, "Step back to a safe distance immediately!"

  Just as Hinata was about to say more, a slightly lazy and curious voice interjected.

  "Oh? Students among the family members here?"

  Hinata and Akira turned to locate the voice. Not far beyond the caution line stood a young man in a brown trench coat, leaning against an aging deep blue sedan. He looked around twenty-five or twenty-six, with messy hair, and wore an expression that balanced between casual indifference and serious inquiry. He held a seemingly professional voice recorder in one hand and wore a press badge from "Charming Daily" around his neck, while his other hand held a drink that fizzed and sparkled — apparently soda with lemon.

  He took a sip, emitting a subtle "hiss," and then walked towards Hinata with a relaxed stride, as if the surrounding tense atmosphere had nothing to do with him.

  "Excuse me, officer," he nodded to the burly policeman, his tone polite yet casual, "I’m Chang Lefeng from the Cicada Song Daily." He lifted the identification badge around his neck, "Just a routine interview, trying to understand your work. These two kids," he gestured with his eyes at Hinata and Akira, "look like they’re in a hurry. Can I talk to them?" His smile was natural, exuding a charm that was hard to refuse.

  The officer frowned slightly, seeming to think it wouldn’t hurt to let the reporter and the family stay together, and waved his hand: "Please don’t cross the police line, and keep it quiet." With that, he turned to handle other situations.

  Chang Lefeng walked up to Hinata and Akira, sizing them up for a moment. His gaze lingered on how Hinata was protecting Akira, and the corner of his mouth curled into a barely perceptible smile. "What are you two doing here? Skipping school isn’t good for high school students." His tone carried a hint of teasing but lacked malice.

  "We… our parents are researchers here!" Hinata rushed to respond, but his eyes were unconsciously drawn to the particularly refreshing drink in Chang Lefeng's hand. Was that honey lemon soda? In such a tense moment, the drink seemed so out of place yet incredibly tempting.

  "Oh? Researchers, huh." Chang Lefeng took another sip of the soda, the ice clinking crisply in the cup, and the sound of bubbles rising and bursting was particularly clear in the somewhat quiet air. "Don’t worry too much; these big institutions have very good safety measures. I was temporarily grabbed by the newspaper to report on this," he shrugged, his tone laced with self-deprecating resignation.

  Akira looked at the suddenly appearing reporter. His relaxed demeanor felt out of place, leaving her somewhat confused while also feeling inexplicably reassured. She noted the name "Chang Lefeng" on his press badge, a name that sounded quite… optimistic.

  "Mr. Chang?" Akira confirmed softly, "You’re a reporter? Do you know what’s happening inside?"

  "Just call me Mr. Chang, my last name is Chang." Chang Lefeng smiled, habitually rubbing the top of his recorder with his knuckle. "I’m not quite sure what’s going on; I was temporarily notified to come keep an eye on things. I’m just a writer who occasionally plays the role of a reporter." He pointed to his press badge, "In-depth investigations, the type that requires diligence. The royalties from one book can support me for three years, and the newspaper just gives a little basic salary as a token."

  Hinata looked at him, his curiosity slightly overshadowing his fear: "A writer who reports?"

  "Something like that." Just as Chang Lefeng was about to say more, his gaze suddenly shifted past them to the depths of the research institute, and his brow instantly furrowed.

  Hinata and Akira also sensed something unusual. The noise of the crowd seemed to diminish, replaced by a suffocating silence. Immediately following—

  "Boom——！！！！！！"

  A deep, thunderous roar suddenly erupted. The sound seemed not to come from the air, but from deep within the earth, as if something was being violently torn apart, heavy enough to make one's heart skip a beat, instantly overpowering all the noise outside the warning line.

  The ground beneath them began to shake violently without warning, first dropping suddenly, followed by a terrifyingly large sway from side to side. Hinata felt his ankle twist, losing his balance completely, and he fell sideways with a thud! Beside him, Akira let out a sharp cry, also thrown off balance by this sudden force. Almost simultaneously, a scalding wind, heavy with the acrid smell of gunpowder and burning, surged forward like an indescribably heavy invisible wall from the direction of the research institute. This wind was scorching and seared his throat, instantly filling his mouth and nose, robbing him of the ability to breathe. After the explosion, all that remained in Hinata's ears was a sharp, continuous high-pitched ringing, like a steel needle buzzing in his brain, while the blaring alarms, cries for help, and even Akira's nearby screams became muffled and distant, as if separated by a thick layer of cotton.

  In the moment his body lost control and fell, Hinata caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Akira was just in front of him, losing her balance and falling backward, with pure terror on her face. Without thinking, purely instinct taking over, he stretched out his hand, not to steady himself, but to lunge toward Akira!

  The two fell heavily onto the rough, hot asphalt surface. Hinata used his body weight and momentum to shield Akira beneath him. He curled up, trying as much as possible to cover her with his back and shoulders while quickly pressing her head down low, burying it in the small space formed by his chest and arms, using his body to block her from the chaos that had erupted.

  "Mmm!" Akira was taken aback by the sudden protection and impact, letting out a stifled grunt, followed by a violent cough. Hinata could feel the small body of the girl trembling violently beneath him, and the chill and strength from her fingers gripping his arm. The acrid smell of smoke spread, while scorching gusts carried tiny shards of stone and dust, falling like scalding raindrops on Hinata's back, the back of his head, and his arms that protected his face, bringing a dense, stinging pain. Every breath felt like fire in his lungs; the spicy taste made his eyes water. The immense force continued to press against his back, and he could only clench his teeth, using all his weight to steady both of them against the force trying to overturn them. The deafening explosion, the sharp alarms, the twisted metallic noise, and the muffled sound of distant collapses blended together, hammering against his eardrums, creating a suffocating buzz.

  Hinata struggled to lift his face buried in the crook of his arm, his vision obscured by thick, choking black smoke. He instinctively tightened his arms, pulling Akira deeper into his embrace. The repeated stinging on his back, the continuous piercing pain in his eardrums, and Akira's uncontrollable shivering and muffled whimpers beneath him all clearly told him: in this bizarre time prison, amidst the chaos and fear of this moment, the only person he could protect was the one in his arms. The only reliance they had was on each other.