Chapter 17 — The Machine of Dreams

Three weeks before the national finals, the organizers announced a new additional challenge for this round—a task that required the robot to stack objects on top of each other with high precision, completely different from what Lê Quý Đôn's team had practiced throughout the season. This was important information, requiring the whole team to meet urgently to adjust its strategy and design.

"We need Hoàng Nam to be present to decide the direction," Tấn Phát said, looking around the empty factory, with only four key members waiting. "Where is she?"

"I sent a text message but haven't received a reply yet," Bảo Châu replied, worriedly looking at the phone that had been silent for half an hour.

The group waited another fifteen minutes, but Hoàng Nam still did not appear nor did he give any response. Finally, Mr. Vinh, who was always present at important meetings, decided he could not wait any longer.

"We don't have time to delay," he said, his voice serious. "The organizers only give the teams three weeks to prepare for this new challenge. You need to start right away, and I believe the group is capable of making the right decision without waiting for Hoàng Nam."

Bảo Châu, Tấn Phát and Đức looked at each other, a moment of hesitation flashed before they nodded in agreement. All that afternoon, the three of them and teacher Vinh diligently discussed and sketched new design options for the object stacking mechanism, testing many different ideas on drawings before choosing the most feasible direction.

In the evening, when the group had completed the preliminary sketch, Hoàng Nam appeared, looking tired and somewhat surprised to see that the work had progressed significantly without his participation.

"Is everyone done?" he asked, his voice somewhat indeterminate — both relieved that work had not been delayed, and a bit disappointed that his role no longer seemed as essential as before.

"We can't wait for you forever," Tấn Phát replied, his voice unable to hide the frustration that had accumulated for a long time. "You disappeared all afternoon without a message, right in the middle of the most important moment. If this continues, we won't have time to prepare for the finals."

"I'm sorry," Hoàng Nam replied, his voice low, bowing his head to avoid the group's eyes. "I have an urgent matter that cannot be avoided."

"What's so urgent that you can't take five minutes to send a text message in advance?" Tấn Phát continued, his voice becoming more and more harsh. "You are the club president, Hoàng Nam. You can't just disappear anytime you want without explanation."

The atmosphere in the factory became tense and stuffy. Đức stood silently watching, not daring to intervene in the rare argument between two close friends who always got along well. Bảo Châu felt her heart tighten at that scene, wanting to speak up for reconciliation but didn't know where to start.

"We need you, Hoàng Nam," she finally spoke, trying to keep her voice calm. "Not just because of the technique, but because you're the one leading the team. If there's something that's distracting you, please share it with us. We can find a solution together."

Hoàng Nam looked around, met the worried, waiting eyes of each member of the team, and for a moment, Bảo Châu thought she was about to open up, about to tell everything that was weighing heavily on her shoulders. But then, his face closed again, returning to its familiar defensive expression.

“There's nothing to share,” he said, his voice stiff. "I just need more time to organize everything. Show me the sketches you just made."

That evasive answer made the atmosphere even heavier. Tấn Phát sighed, shook his head, said nothing more, just quietly showed the drawing to Hoàng Nam. The group continued working in awkward silence for the rest of the evening, completely lacking the chemistry and comfort they had before.

On the way home, Bảo Châu texted Thục Hiền, telling the whole incident. "I don't know what to do anymore," she wrote. "He keeps closing himself off, and I feel like I'm losing connection with him, even though we still see each other every day."

"Maybe you need to show him that sharing is not a sign of weakness," Thục Hiền texted back, after a moment of thought. "Sometimes people who always have to appear strong in front of others are most afraid of being seen when they are no longer strong."

Bảo Châu read that message, nodded alone in the darkness of the bedroom, realizing the truth in it but still not knowing exactly what to do to break the wall that Hoàng Nam was building higher and higher. She only knew that, if this situation continued, not only would the relationship between her and him be damaged, but the future of the Robotics Club - something they had worked hard to build together all semester - was also at risk of collapsing right on the threshold of the greatest opportunity they had ever had.

In the following days, the situation did not get better. Hoàng Nam still came to the workshop, but his presence was now more of a formality than a substantive contribution—he sat quietly at the corner of the table, occasionally made a few brief comments, then sank back into his own thoughts, leaving Tấn Phát and Đức to manage important technical decisions that needed the consensus of the whole group.

The consequences appeared not long after. While testing the new object stacking mechanism, Đức and Tấn Phát, without careful consultation as usual, chose the wrong material for the clamp, causing the robot to drop the object right in the middle of the stacking process for five consecutive tries.

"We should have consulted Hoàng Nam before deciding on this material," Đức said, sounding disappointed, looking at the pile of broken components lying on the table after many hours of useless testing. "He always calculates more carefully than us about friction and material durability."

"Then go ask him now," Tấn Phát replied, in a rare irritable voice, nodding towards the corner of the table where Hoàng Nam was sitting, eyes glued to the phone with a distant expression, completely unaware of what had just happened a few meters away. "She doesn't even pay attention to what's going on in front of him."

Bảo Châu, standing nearby witnessing the entire incident, felt a mixture of sadness and anger rising in her heart—not angry at Hoàng Nam for intentionally harming the team, but angry because he insisted on bearing something alone to the point of making the whole team pay the price in this way. She walked over to him, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

"Hoàng Nam, the team just lost nearly two hours because they chose the wrong material for the clamp," she said. "If you had been present and contributed from the beginning, this wouldn't have happened."

Hoàng Nam was startled, looked up at her, then looked at the pile of broken components on the table, his face flashed with obvious guilt. "I'm sorry," he said, standing up and walking over to check the problem. "Let me take a look now."

He quickly pointed out a more suitable material, solving the problem in just a few minutes — clear evidence that his abilities had not diminished, it was just that his spiritual presence was no longer fully devoted to the team as before. That, for Bảo Châu, was much more worrying than the loss of her professional ability, because it clearly shows that Hoàng Nam's mind was being stretched between two worlds that he did not know how to reconcile, and the Robotics team - which was once his pride, where he belonged most fully - now only receives a small part of him.

Later that evening, when everyone had left, teacher Vinh kept Bảo Châu for a few minutes, her eyes full of thought. "I think maybe it's time for me to call and discuss with Hoàng Nam's parents," he said, his voice weighing each word. "But I'm also worried that if I don't do it skillfully, it might make the pressure on her worse instead of less."

"Do you think we should wait a little longer?" Bảo Châu asked, although in her heart she was not sure whether this was the right choice or not.

"Maybe so," Mr. Vinh nodded and sighed. "But I'm afraid that if we wait too long, we will lose both the robot and Hoàng Nam himself before we can do anything."

That sentence stayed in Bảo Châu's mind all the way home, as heavy as a prophecy that she did not want to believe was true, but could not deny the fear that was growing in her heart.