Assembling the Avengers, an Alliance Takes Shape

A new message pops up in the bottom right corner of the screen.

One word: Thunderfall.

Ye Mo stared at those two words for two seconds, then tapped his finger lightly on the table. He didn't smile or say anything, but simply moved his body forward a little, closer to the communication panel. Emma Frost, standing beside him, whose Mental Network connected to the outer five-kilometer area, sensed that Ye Mo's emotional fluctuations had changed, like a spring that had been compressed for a long time suddenly releasing its tension.

"Here they come," he said.

"Yes." Emma Frost nodded. "The first one."

Ye Mo opened his private voice line and dialed the number he had kept for three years without deleting it. The signal connected quickly, and the sounds of metal clanging and the hum of a robotic arm moving could be heard in the background.

"Tony," he said, "You're back?"

"Oh, Mr. X calling personally?" The voice on the other end of the line was tinged with laughter. "I thought you'd wait until the sky fell before asking for help."

"The sky is falling," Ye Mo said. "Jotunheim won't last two hours."

"Oh, this time it wasn't the system telling you to run away?" Tony tapped the microphone. "I remember you used to be so shrewd, always saying 'The system told me to retreat' whenever things looked bad. Now you're issuing a call to arms?"

"The system isn't to blame anymore." Ye Mo watched the countdown numbers on the control panel jump. "This time, I have to take the fall."

Tony paused for a moment, then spoke again, his tone different. "Speak, what do you want me to do?"

"Three points," Ye Mo said, his pace quickening. "First, remotely access the base network and activate the armored fire suppression plan; second, track the energy shift trajectory of the Bifrost —I need to know exactly how many parameters Loki changed; third—start calling for reinforcements."

"Banner is on his way," Tony said. "I just contacted him. The Greenskin's condition is a bit unstable, but he can fight. Natasha just got back from Budapest, so there's a bit of a signal delay, but I sent her an emergency protocol; she'll be there."

"That's enough," Ye Mo said softly. "As long as you're willing to set off, that's enough."

"Stop with the sentimentality." Tony tapped a key. "I'll warm up some of the Mark 85 modules now, and airdrop them once you confirm the coordinates. Also—" He paused, "You're in command of this operation."

Ye Mo was taken aback.

"What did you say?"

"I said you take command," Tony repeated. "I know you don't like being in charge, and you always prefer to stay in the background and say, 'This wasn't my idea.' But things are different now. You were the first to spot the crisis, and the only one who can connect to Thor's remaining energy. Who else should I listen to if not you?"

Ye Mo remained silent.

He glanced down at the silver bracelet beside him. It was an emergency beacon Tony had given him years ago, which he had modified three times, each time using it to call for help in life-or-death situations. Now it lay quietly on the table, its surface marked with scratches, like unfinished words.

"Okay," he finally spoke. "Then send the data stream first; I need to check the interface compatibility. Also, don't use the public network channel; use underground frequency bands, and set the encryption level to the highest."

"Got it," Tony said. "I've hacked into your firewall. The password is that joke you made when you were drunk last time—'I'm not Spider-Man's dad.'"

Ye Mo's lips twitched.

"You remember this?"

"My memory is better than yours," Tony scoffed. "By the way, is your end safe? Any signs of being monitored?"

"Yes." Ye Mo brought up the image of the Faraday cage. "The chip is still beeping, at a frequency of 61.1Hz, synchronized with the countdown. It recognizes me, but it's also learning from me. I dare not cut off its power now, for fear of triggering the countermeasure mechanism."

"Interesting." Tony's voice rose. "You mean this thing came to life?"

"It's not just the program." Ye Mo looked at the scorch marks on his palm. "It responds to me, like a heartbeat. Once every seven seconds, in sync with the rhythm of my guiding the lightning."

"So you're God of Thunder 2.0 now?" Tony chuckled. "Want a cape?"

"A cloak is less practical than a shield." Ye Mo switched interfaces. "Stop with the small talk, send me the armor deployment plan first. I need to know at what level the Mark 85 can maintain stable output."

"The highest level of support is cross-layer warp strikes," Tony said, "But there's a problem—if the Bifrost really collapses, the spatial rift could swallow all ranged units. I need to have a backup plan."

"Then stay," Ye Mo said. "I don't expect you to carry the whole game by yourself. I just need your firepower to create space and buy me thirty seconds of openings."

"Thirty seconds?" Tony sneered. "Do you think I'm an inflatable doll that pops with a single press?"

"You're Iron Man," Ye Mo, staring at the screen. "Your greatest strength is accomplishing the impossible at the impossible time."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Damn," Tony cursed, "When did you learn to suck up?"

"I didn't take any pictures," Ye Mo said. "I was just stating the facts."

"Alright," Tony sighed, "I'll pack up the tactical kit and send it to you right now. And a word of advice—don't even think about rushing in to defuse the bomb alone. That's my job, get it?"

"I won't charge," Ye Mo said. "I'll handle the interference with the synchronization frequency; you'll blow up the door."

"That's more like it." Tony tapped the table. "Also, don't forget to wear that jacket with the ventilation slots. Last time you wore it to block artillery fire, it only burned a hole in it. It was pretty cost-effective."

"The clothes are over there." Ye Mo reached out and hung the black combat suit on the rack. "I've checked them; the interface is compatible with the new module."

"That's good," Tony said. "I'll start contacting the others now. Hawkeye is on vacation, but he owes me a favor, I'll get him back. Don't worry about Black Panther either, Wakanda's intelligence network is better than S.H.I.E.L.D..'s, he'll know when to come."

Ye Mo nodded, even though the other person couldn't see him.

Thanks.

"Don't thank me," Tony said, his voice lower. "We're teammates. And—" he paused, "You saved my life once, in that cave. I'll never forget it."

Ye Mo did not respond.

He knew which time Tony was referring to. It was the day after he traveled through time, before Tony was kidnapped. He intercepted an armed convoy on the edge of the desert. At the time, no one knew who he was; they only saw a young man in a hoodie carrying a pistol rushing into the line of fire. Tony, Tony asked him why he did it.

He said, "The system prompted me to save someone."

There was actually no hint at all.

He simply didn't want to watch someone die in front of him.

He has no intention of explaining now.

"Time is running out," he said. "You need to hurry up on your end."

"It's already in progress," Tony said. "By the way, is the codename still Mr. X? Should we change it to something cooler? Like 'Lightning Guy' or 'Captain Lightning Rod'?"

"Don't make things worse." Ye Mo ended the voice connection.

The screen dimmed briefly, then lit up again. Data began to flow in, and the green progress bar slowly advanced. He pulled up the armor deployment map, compared it with the base structure, and marked three optimal deployment points. Emma Frost walked over and glanced at it.

"He agreed?"

"Hmm." Ye Mo nodded, "The remote support is in place, and they even call for backup."

"So you're the commander?"

"For now," he said. "No one knows this chip's reaction patterns better than me."

Emma Frost looked at him; his Diamond Form skin shimmered faintly.

You used to hate taking responsibility.

"I hate being struck by lightning too," Ye Mo said, cracking his knuckles. "But I have to bear it now."

He stood up and walked towards the training area. The copper-core target plate was still on the wall, the burn marks from before clearly visible. He raised his right hand, and a blue arc of electricity condensed in his palm. This time, the arc was steady, its color deeper, with a hint of purple at the edges.

He aimed at the bullseye and released.

With a "pop," sparks exploded, hitting the very center.

"I have better control than yesterday," Emma Frost said.

"It's from practice." He stopped, "I'm not afraid of hurting myself anymore."

He turned to look at the holographic projection. The coordinates of the Nine Realms slowly rotated, Jotunheim's location was blindingly red. The countdown numbers ticked: 61.0Hz.

Two hours and thirty-nine minutes.

"Notify everyone," he said. "Prepare for war."

Emma Frost nodded, took a step back, and extended the Mental Network to a five-kilometer radius around the city, establishing the first line of defense. At the same time, she activated the base's defense protocol, putting all non-essential systems into hibernation.

Ye Mo returned to the terminal and opened the equipment maintenance interface. He checked the status of each weapon, including the captured sonic jamming gun, the protective shield generator, and the "Regenerative Phasing" test device.

As he repaired it, he muttered to himself, "This gun charges slowly, so I have to turn it on early; the shield generator only lasts for thirty seconds at most; the Regenerative Phasing limit hasn't been tested yet..."

Before I could finish speaking, a new message popped up in the bottom right corner of the screen.

Reply with coded message.

One word: Thunderfall.