The metal dome of Aurora Starport No. 7 Glows with purple rust under the aurora, like armor that has been gnawed by time. The soles of Lin Ye's boots ran over the broken light-sensitive floor tiles on the ground. Every time he took a step, the portable terminal would make a harsh electric sound. The sound echoed in the empty passage, making him uneasy. As the only "memory calibrator" of the star port, his job should have been to repair the colonists' memory disorders caused by interstellar jumps - those fragmented scenes and blurred faces can always be restored to integrity with his technology. But today's task list is marked with a priority that I have never seen before: "Highest authority, Alpha zone, single execution."
