Battle review: lessons learned

Ye Mo withdrew his gaze from the northern mountains, his fingers still clutching the Vibranium fragment in his pocket. It was no longer hot, but the surface was slightly numb, as if the current hadn't completely dissipated. He coughed twice, a metallic taste in his throat. His Regeneration abilities were still functioning, and the crack in his ribs was slowly closing, but his mind was a little heavy, and his reactions were a beat slower than usual.

He knew he couldn't keep staring at the sky. The enemy's absence didn't mean the threat was gone. What he really needed to do was to review the battle they had just fought.

He began, "We need to do a post-mortem analysis."

Tony, who was crouching on the ground tightening the last screw on his armor, looked up when he heard this. "You really think you're a tactical instructor?"

"Not the instructor, but the one who survived." Ye Mo sat down against the broken steel beam. "Luck accounted for 30% of that battle. I don't expect Thaddeus Ross to be able to turn things around on his own next time."

Emma Frost leaned against another piece of concrete, her hair disheveled, fingertips pressing against her temples. She opened her eyes. "I agree. During that last mental suppression, I almost managed to lock down the Abomination's neural signals, but I received a backlash, like... something was interfering."

"It wasn't interference," Ye Mo shook his head, "It was a misalignment of empathy. Did you feel that my emotions were fluctuating particularly strongly at the time?"

Emma Frost glanced at him. "When you rushed up to attack the Abomination, it was like you were going to kill someone. That anger was so intense, I almost thought you'd lost control too."

"I didn't lose control," Ye Mo said. "I released it on purpose. Regeneration requires emotional stimulation to activate deep repair. I was too badly injured at the time, and this was the only way to stay alive."

Tony stood up and clapped his hands. "So you used yourself as bait, and incidentally tested your limits?"

"Right."

"Are you crazy?" Tony grinned. "Next time, give me a heads-up. I thought you were going to have a falling out with your brothers."

"You believed me when I told you?" Ye Mo laughed. "Your palm cannon was fully charged back then, just three seconds away from firing."

"That's standard procedure!" Tony declared confidently. "When teammates go berserk, prioritize controlling them."

The three of them were silent for a moment, then they all laughed. After laughing, the atmosphere relaxed.

Ye Mo cleared his throat. "Let's start from the beginning. In the first phase, my Wall Phasing Technique failed, forcing me to take the Shockwave head-on. At that time, the shield activation was delayed by 0.8 seconds, and I was almost shoved into the ground."

Tony frowned. "You were two meters out of the safe zone. It took me extra time to lock onto you. Don't wander off next time."

"I wasn't running around randomly." Ye Mo pointed to his head. "The system gave me a 'high-frequency energy gathering' warning once. I was testing the Abomination's attack rhythm. It turns out that before each attack, there's a faint flash of light on the back of its neck for 0.3 seconds."

"You saw it?" Emma Frost asked.

"The field of vision changes when Regenerative Phasing is activated," Ye Mo said. "You can see bioelectric currents. That's when I discovered that its neural signals are input from the outside, not from autonomous behavior."

Tony nodded. "That explains why EMP worked. But it restarted too quickly; my pulse only lasted four seconds."

"Because you only attacked the surface circuit." Ye Mo took out a Vibranium fragment. "The real node is behind the third vertebra, embedded with a receiver. When I pulled it out, it still had the Hellfire Club's etched markings on it."

Emma Frost's eyes narrowed. "That organization... I thought it had disbanded a long time ago."

"It hasn't dissipated." Ye Mo handed over the fragment. "It's just changed its appearance. The spiritual imprint of this thing is very familiar, but it's cleaner than before, as if it's been filtered."

Emma Frost took the fragment, closed her eyes to sense it for a few seconds, and shook her head. "Too short, can't pinpoint the source. But I'm certain the controller wasn't on-site; it was accessed remotely."

Tony interjected, "So, we're fighting a puppet?"

"Yes," Ye Mo said, "But the real operators have been observing our response."

The air suddenly turned several degrees colder.

Tony looked down to inspect the armor, his tone changing. "Then I need to modify the program. The current AI's reaction logic relies too much on preset models, making it prone to freezing in unexpected situations. Next, I'll delegate some decision-making power to Ye Mo's sensory feedback, so that the armor automatically avoids any abnormalities he detects."

"Can you do it?" Ye Mo asked.

"Yes," Tony tapped his helmet, "As long as your system can output a real-time data stream."

"Okay." Ye Mo closed his eyes and brought up the mental interface. "I've already set up the shared channel; cooldown times and ability statuses can be synchronized."

Emma Frost opened her eyes. "Then I need to add an extra layer of insurance. We can't afford to make that mental misjudgment again. I suggest establishing 'emotional Anchor' —each person having a fixed mental frequency, such as heart rate or breathing pattern, as an identification code. Next time, I'll confirm the signal source before launching the jamming."

"Sounds like biometrics," Tony laughed. "Okay, I'll connect the vital signs data to the system later too."

Ye Mo nodded. "This way, the three parties can communicate with each other, which is equivalent to building a temporary tactical network. It's much more reliable than relying on shouting and gestures."

He paused, then continued, "There are three more points to remember. First, a single ability can't sustain a prolonged battle. I tried the Regeneration + shield combination, and it worked well, but the cooldown tripled. From now on, we must design combo plans in advance, instead of improvising on the spot."

Tony raised his hand. "I agree. Next time in close combat, I can use the concussion Negasonic Teenage Warhead to help you disrupt the enemy's Regeneration rhythm."

"Second," Ye Mo held up a second finger, "Teamwork can't rely solely on tacit understanding. Just now, we had two attacks that were off by less than a second, and both were interrupted. We need standardized response procedures, such as triggering a final attack with specific actions or signals."

"Like when you smashed the pieces?" Emma Frost asked.

"Yes. That wasn't a coincidence. I deliberately let the fragments collide with the residual energy of the shield to create a high-energy pulse as a signal for the final attack," Ye Mo said. "From now on, these crucial commands must be agreed upon in advance; we can't rely on guesswork."

Tony stroked his chin. "How about we use a code? Like, I'll yell 'Let's get started,' and then you guys get to work."

"Too obvious," Emma Frost said. "Body language would be better. For example, Ye Mo raising his left hand means he's ready to charge; my blinking twice indicates that my mental suppression is ready."

"Okay." Ye Mo nodded. "The third point is the most troublesome—mental state affects the stability of abilities. The time I went berserk was because I saw Emma Frost injured, and my emotions exploded. Although my Regeneration ability was activated, my control decreased, and I almost accidentally hurt Tony."

Tony shrugged. "When your punch grazed my helmet, I really thought you were going to knock me out."

"I'm not doing this to you," Ye Mo said in a low voice, "I'm doing it to myself. I'm afraid it won't be time to save her."

Emma Frost looked at him without saying anything.

Ye Mo took a deep breath. "Therefore, we must conduct emotional calibration before the battle. We cannot go into battle with anger, nor can we suppress our fear and force ourselves to fight. We must learn to find a balance between calmness and explosiveness."

As soon as the words were spoken, a notification sound rang in my mind:

"Summary complete, Gene Spiral Tower Knowledge Base updated."

He closed his eyes and sensed it. The nineteenth level of the Spiral Tower deep within his consciousness trembled slightly, as if a new logical chain was being generated. It wasn't a new ability, but rather a deeper understanding of his existing abilities. The previously vague combination path became clear, and the cooling pattern also had a preliminary model.

Tony stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. "Alright, consider this a worthwhile beating. But could we have a meeting somewhere else next time? It smells awful here."

"It's the hydraulic fluid leaking from your armor," Emma Frost said calmly.

"That's strategic emissions," Tony said matter-of-factly.

Ye Mo didn't laugh. He gazed at the low-hanging clouds in the distance, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the Vibranium fragment in his pocket.

The summary just now was very comprehensive. They identified the problem and proposed solutions. But he knew that the real test wasn't here.

Why did the Scavengers cancel their order? Who could stop them so easily? Was that fleeting drone signal reconnaissance or surveillance?

These questions have no answers.

But he understood one thing: only by turning every battle into nourishment could he avoid being eliminated when the next one came.

He slowly stood up and steadied himself.

My Regeneration abilities are still working; fatigue is weighing on my eyelids, but my mind is clearer than before.

Tony looked at him. "Aren't you leaving?"

"Wait a little longer."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Wait until your mind is completely clear."

Emma Frost stood up and walked to his side. She didn't speak, but her mental link gently swept over him, sending a steady frequency—like a heartbeat, or like breathing.

Ye Mo nodded.

He knew this was her way of responding.

The three stood in the center of the ruins, none of them moving.

The wind blew in from the north, carrying dust and the smell of burnt metal.

Ye Mo suddenly raised his hand and touched his left ear.

There was something unusual there, like a very subtle, continuous vibration.

Without making a sound, he quietly switched his Regenerative Phasing ability to perception mode.

The cells beneath the skin begin to resonate slightly.

A string of numbers appeared in his mind:

Signal frequency: 7.83Hz

It is not a natural frequency band.

It is not a known device frequency band.

This frequency is slowly increasing.