The office telephone rang sharply, shattering the electrified silence. Professor Nicholas lunged toward the console as if scalded. He snatched the receiver, struggling to mask the irritation boiling within him.

  ?"Speak!" he snapped in a low, strained voice.

  ?It was the Research Center Administrator. His tone, formal and pointedly concerned, immediately injected fresh anxiety into the laboratory's atmosphere.

  ?"Professor Nicholas, apologies for the late hour. Security reported that you dismissed all staff despite the time. What justification forced you to commit such a breach of protocol?"

  ?Nicholas hesitated for a moment, glancing at Doctor Marcus. The latter shook his head in a silent warning, and the Professor blurted out:

  ?"We are conducting the final integral reconciliation of all CHBM parameters collected over the month. The data volume is colossal. To prevent errors, we require absolute silence and total concentration. I demand that we remain undisturbed."

  ?The Administrator held a brief pause.

  ?"Very well, Professor. I accept this explanation. However, all responsibility for the urgency and subsequent consequences lies solely on your shoulders. Act within your competence and do not get distracted. Good luck."

  ?Nicholas slammed the receiver down before the sentence was finished. Marcus gave a barely perceptible nod, and the Professor commanded resolutely:

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  ?"Nova, initiate identification scanning. Determine object coordinates and construct a spatial grid. Immediately!"

  ?The system’s startup was far from quiet. A loud metallic click rippled through all the CHBM cables, followed by a surging low-frequency hum.

  ?"Nicholas," Marcus whispered, his eyes locked on the flickering console, "I’ve never seen her process a request for this long. It seems Nova has finally encountered data that lies beyond her algorithms."

  ?"Unlike us, she knows exactly what she’s doing," the Professor retorted.

  ?Ninety seconds stretched like an eternity, pulling the anticipation to an unbearable limit. Only the droning of the apparatus signaled the frantic labor of the processing cores. Finally, the silence was broken by the dispassionate synthetic voice:

  ?"Identification complete. The projection demonstrates correspondence to the universal scale of the Supercluster. To verify the global structure, determine coordinate concordance, and initialize a local simulation of the object with the lowest redshift, additional resources are required. Request: 3.2% power."

  ?Nicholas addressed the system, his voice calm but demanding clarity:

  ?"Nova, do I understand correctly: you are requesting energy to zoom in on and scan the nearest object within this projection?"

  ?"Yes," the machine replied coldly. "The nearest identified object is a star with the lowest redshift. It will serve as the fundamental reference point for the subsequent construction of a precise spatial grid."

  ?Holding his breath, the Professor commanded:

  ?"Proceed, Nova."

  ?That single word acted as a trigger. The laboratory shuddered with a crackle. The CHBM cables went taut like harp strings, and the transformer emitted a deep, ominous groan that vibrated through the walls. The overhead lights dimmed significantly—the system had instantaneously consumed 15.2% of the power capacity to initialize the simulation.