The Paleontologist and Her World-Destroying Pet

The day I lost my job, I spent my last 40 yuan on a scrapped mechanical dog. The paint on its outer shell is peeling off, it walks crookedly, and it only makes a dull "bark" sound. I kept him like a rag, repairing his joints and feeding him expired chocolate bars. Until the alien fleet arrives and declares extinction to the earth. When the world was in despair, the mechanical dog in my arms suddenly raised its head, its eyes bright with blue light. Its voice echoed through every survivor's device: ['Reaper' level threat detected. The 'Cradle of Civilization' agreement was launched. [Master, do you want to be kept alive? I hugged its cold shell and watched the destructive beam of light in space being lightly blocked by a layer of pale gold honeycomb light film. After being stunned for a long time, I answered in a shaky voice: "... Don't kill anyone." Later, the interstellar civilization knelt down and begged to see him. And I just rubbed its paint-peeled head: "Agou, be quiet, I'm going to repair the stone." —— This is a story about repair, protection, and how to hold the most powerful power with the gentlest hands.