"Are you ready?" Mosilaire dressed himself in a heavy super-fabric bulletproof vest and asked his companion softly.

"yes, alright." Little Red Riding Hood straightened the small, delicate mind-protective helmet on her head and took a deep breath - it was her first time entering the mysterious underground facilities of the fringe colony, and the air buried deep in the darkness was still dull and warm, filled with uncomfortable weirdness and oppression.

"Okay." Mosilaire checked the equipment for Miss Little Red Riding Hood, then woke up the charged rifle in her arms, patted her on the shoulder, and cheered her on, "Follow me, and if you see something strange, you can warn me in time, okay?" ”

"Hmm." Little Red Riding Hood unfused the submachine gun's cold safety and lit the tactical flashlight on the side of the barrel.

Mosilaire held the charged rifle in front of him, nodded at her, and stepped into the darkness without hesitation.

The blackness of the solid color is like an invisible barrier, completely isolating what lies behind it from the real world, and almost no sound can be heard in the huge underground facilities, and the only sound that seems to echo in the silence and darkness is the rhythmic footsteps and the slight, imperceptible breathing of Mosilaire and Little Red Riding Hood - if you were alone, walking in such a cold, eerie place for ten minutes or so would break the spirit of any determined person.

Mosilaire's charged rifle doesn't have its own lights, but it does have a full range of red-hot, night-vision accessories, and when her bionic eye is connected to the charged rifle's system, she can easily see everything hidden in the corners through the rifle's field of vision.

The passages of the underground facilities were inlaid with metal, and the light often reflected in the light of the Little Red Riding Hood submachine gun tactical flashlight, and occasionally a creepy gray and yellow dry bone flashed from their field of vision, startling them both as they held their breath.

The corpses, dressed in different clothes and lying on the ground for an unknown number of years, had begun to dissipate and disintegrate, quietly rotting and weathering in the quiet darkness of the corridors that led to the corridors—perhaps the tiny particles in Mosilaire and Little Red Riding Hood's noses contained the organic particles that these ancient corpses had scattered into the air—it was disgusting and horrible.

Sometimes Mosilaire and Little Red Riding Hood would stop and search for their location on a huge map that covered the entire wall and was several meters high.

It's just that the walls are inscribed with a unique and rare kind of writing, which is difficult for the well-informed Mosilere to read - it seems that their decorative significance is far greater than that of recorded communication.

The circular text, which has survived the centuries and remains legible, is neatly arranged on the softly sheened metal walls, and together with the regular, powerful lines of the map of the region, they form a kind of intoxicating and beautiful work of art that shines under the tactical flashlight.

Thanks to her good memory, Miss Mosilere, who liked to doze off in class, still remembered some of the things that Ms. Mosessi taught about the interpretation of language and its historical origins.

So she barely read a few words from her vague memory and made a bold guess about their current location and area.

Speaking of Ms. Mothassi, it was really a famous figure in the highest university in the center of the world, this woman full of intellectual beauty and extremely talented in linguistics devoted her life to studying all kinds of complex and rare language systems that have been lost in the long river of human history, which led to her attainments on which no one else can match, and for a long time represented the entire Seventeen Shining World in the academic summits organized by the Central Star Field.

At the same time, the mild-mannered and erudite Professor Mossière was one of Miss Mosile's favorite teachers during her college years - Ms. Mossière was of course also fond of Miss Mosile's eccentric student, and often nudged the "ungifted" child in various assessments so that she could successfully obtain those few crucial credits - but that was not all Mosilele liked about this lady.

Despite her mild-tempered temper and friendly and independent personality, it was difficult for a noble lady like Mosileelle to make any friends due to her family background - the ones who were bent on taking money out of her pocket were not friends, and Mosileelle usually kept a respectful attitude towards such greedy villains.

Even if Mosilere's definition of a "friend" is still vague, ideally, all she wants is a few friends who can talk to each other – if only she could be willing to reach out and hold her when she is in trouble.

It didn't seem to be greedy—but after stripping away the evil people who surrounded her like a blood-sniffing sea shark, Mosilaire didn't have a few lovely friends left around her - especially since as an only child, she lacked siblings to go on a blind date.

So for a long, long time, Mosilele could only confide all the accumulated depression in her heart to a stray cat who came to her every day under the lawn street lamp on the East Campus - and then this well-behaved and beautiful stray cat naturally became her beloved pet.

You've probably guessed who it is - yes, it's Peanut, the most comfortable and free-spirited little colonist in the fringe colonies every day.

As for the name Peanut?

It was just a word that popped into Mosilare's head as she slipped back to her separate dorm room with her in her arms—a name that Mosilele thought was fitting for the orange cat who had already snored in her arms, and he must have liked it too.

But the little peanut was only a few months old, and it was long and beautiful, and every step was graceful and light as if it were dancing, not as fat and fleshy as it is now—even if it made it look more cute.

Then Professor Messissi appeared—like a ray of sunshine that suddenly burst into her life, illuminating Mosilare's already somewhat bleak and uninteresting life.

Madame de Mossasi was gentle and intelligent, elegant and dignified, but well maintained a family attitude that did not lose her elegance - her erudition and humor fascinated and admired Moselle, and she quietly made this independent and friendly lady the person she had strived to become.

And in private, Professor Messiasi, who was close friends with Mosilele, once secretly leaned into his ear like a child and told himself some secrets that she did not know.

Many, many years ago, when Ms. Mossiel was still the age of Mosilere, she ran away from home in order to escape the marriage contract that her father had made for her, and almost never had a perfect escape plan, she bribed the customs officials with large sums of money and sailed out of the ports of D4 on her own in an unregistered smuggling ship.

Fearing that turning on the positioning system would attract the inspection of customs ships and the attention of the family consortium's ships, Mosasi, who was just a little girl at the time, could only wander aimlessly at one hundredth of the speed of light in fear - perhaps because of the fact that she had enough money, the overall performance of the smuggling ship she was on was unexpectedly good, and the antique spaceship that she later named "Mickey" should have been thrown into the scrap iron factory for shredding and recycling, and she carried her slowly and leisurely in the vast D4-D5 star field for more than half a year.

And through the vague, oil-stained reinforced fiberglass, Mothassi, who stepped out of the seventeenth shining world civilization circle for the first time, saw countless miraculous and incredible sights—she had the privilege of seeing hundreds of thousands of spaceships being hit at the edge of the constellation Orion with her transparent and bright light-sensing organs, and a little glimmer of light from an extreme distance; She has seen C-rays streak through the dark cosmic space of the 'Don Wyser Gate', and she has seen those blue supergiants that have burned quietly for thousands of years in the dark and cold void with magnificent energy that humans cannot imagine; There are also the dead black holes that devour all things and will eventually merge and unify to a very high degree......

But all these moments will disappear into time, like ...... Tears...... Disappearing into the rain - everything will return to entropy silence - after a near-infinite rolling time beyond the limits of any individual's life.

So on a large scale, there is no doubt that the ethereal universe is cold enough to make people desperate – the occasional dazzling star and the surprising beauty are just a pretty coat of softness beyond its brutal core – but even so, there are always small, fragile beings that can thrive on a warm asteroid that is suitable enough to thrive in a million.

Just like the human race, which is a complex, multifaceted, resilient and fragile paradoxical organic race.

Miss Messasi was fortunate to have managed to scan a backward planet that had not been registered and recorded by the Empire before the oxygen produced by the circulatory system of life became so turbid that it was impossible to breathe, and landed in a stable enough position in an oasis of a giant desert across two continents on the medieval planet to be named "D-4-e013".

Pure air, which was easy to breathe, quickly poured into the transport ship "Eb907", which had landed on the edge of a small lake, gently reawakening the already unconscious Messiasi.

The warm breeze blowing in from the pop-open airlock door was a slightly rough grainy feeling on the face—perhaps mixed with tiny sand from the endless desert that surrounded the oasis, carrying the heat of the sun and the wind for hundreds of millions of years.

As Messisa staggered off the ship's steel pedals, a warm breeze swirled over the oasis, and the hundreds of tall palms that towered around the miniature lake swayed their wide, dark green foliage in a dense, gentle salsa sound.

The clear sky of the golden crow shone with a burgundy sheen that would intoxicate Messasi, and with great tenderness turned the see-through lake in front of her, which was still full of enchanting vapor, into a priceless criminate—the sparkling waves and the cruising white birds were so beautiful that she forgot how to breathe with the survival equipment in her hand.

With only basic survival gear, Miss Messasi lived alone for more than a month and a half in a miniature oasis of only a few square kilometres with amazing perseverance and a talent for survival - but on a cool morning she was suddenly awakened by a dull, loud roar of engines - in a low, shoddy but lovely shelter from the wind and rain.

A giant spaceship that obscured the sky pierced through the light clouds of hundreds of kilometers in the northern hemisphere of Planet "D-4-e013", and the eight ships with a radius of more than a mile The in-planetary thrusters blew out a flood of wind, sand and water vapor in the deafening roar - the miniature lake that had accompanied her for dozens of days and nights was almost instantaneously evaporated and burned into a massive amount of pure white steam by the high-temperature flame currents of several thousand degrees Celsius almost the moment it came into contact with one of the pushers—the indentured slaves sent by the family consortium were very accurate," D-4-e013: "The warm monsoon winds that came in the autumn took away the hot water vapor that would have scalded her raw.

Standing on the sand dunes and witnessing everything, Mosasi slowly crouched down, numbly watching the millions of tons of evaporated water vapor stretch out more than ten kilometers long white lines, slowly stretching out into the clear sky, outlining the lines of the monsoon that were originally invisible.

Already too thin to be seen, Messasy was soon taken away—but she had left the last two drops of water for the vast desert before leaving—only with a slightly higher salt content, and perhaps it would have been more appropriate to call it tears.