Ye Mo's fingertip twitched again.
This time it wasn't an illusion; the signal from the vibration pile had changed. He squatted on the ground, his right hand pressed against the crack, the current drilling into the ground along his fingertips. The sensor 300 meters deep fed back a rhythm—different from before, 0.3 seconds faster.
"Three hundred meters to the north, the Earth's magnetic field is deflected by 0.1 degrees," he said in a low voice. "The frequency has changed."
Tony didn't even look up; he slid his finger across the panel, bringing up JARVIS's historical data. The previous fluctuation was 0.7 degrees, lasting four seconds and seventeen milliseconds; this time it was shorter, but the waveform was denser.
"The phase difference is there," he said. "It's not random drift; someone is tuning the frequency."
Instead of talking to himself, he asked directly, " Banner, is there any synchronization abnormality in your brainwave monitoring?"
Banner looked up, staring at the biometric reading on his wrist. Just a moment ago, his alpha wave had indeed twitched, as if it had been swept by something.
"Yes," he said. "Mirroring fluctuations, very slight, but present. Not external interference, more like... the system's internal workings were read once."
Tony nodded, tapped his finger, and activated the armor's low-power scan mode, automatically connecting the data stream to Ye Mo's device port.
"I'll use my computing power to filter out the noise for you," he said. "Don't expect me to understand your mystical explanation that 'scorch marks heating up means recoil,' but I can calculate which signal is real."
Ye Mo didn't smile, but his eyes twitched. He knew this was Tony's kind of approval—not praising you, but entrusting your back to you.
He suppressed the lightning power to the lowest frequency band, like a probe, sending it deeper into the veins of the vibrating pile. The current crawled slower, but more steadily. With Tony's computing power added in, most of the background noise was eliminated, and the signal outline became clear.
Just then, Emma Frost opened her eyes.
Her complexion was poor, her lips were pale, and her fingers were resting on her temples, but her voice was steady.
"It's not reading," she said, "It's replaying. That memory is looping, and each time it repeats, a little bit more content appears."
She paused, her breathing a little erratic. "I can feel it... it's piecing together a puzzle, completing it piece by piece."
Ye Mo immediately adjusted his direction, no longer probing outwards, but instead causing the current to resonate in the opposite direction, simulating the rhythm of the memory signal, attempting to trace the source in reverse.
Tony saw the sudden change in the data stream, but without asking why, he directly ordered JARVIS to switch to passive listening mode and give all the bandwidth to Ye Mo.
Banner watched the three men's actions and, without waiting for any orders, silently connected his biosensors to the network and plugged them into the public channel.
"If it affects the nervous system," he said, "I can be the first line of defense."
No one said "okay," and no one nodded. But the three signals connected in the same second—earth pulsation, lightning resonance, and biological nerve waves. The three lines converged into a triangle on the virtual interface, locking onto a certain point underground.
This was the first time that no one gave instructions or confirmed the division of labor; one person took action, and the other three automatically followed.
Mutual understanding isn't something you talk about, it's something you do.
Emma Frost's Mental Scan lasted less than two minutes before it started to sway. She closed her eyes, sweat beading on her forehead, and her Mental Network momentarily faltered.
Ye Mo noticed immediately. He cut off the power supply to the two deep-seated vibration piles, concentrating the power to the near-field protective shield, and whispered to Tony, "Give me three minutes, she needs time to process this."
Tony didn't ask "What's wrong?" or "Is it serious?" Instead, he directly ordered JARVIS to switch to backup power mode to provide stable power support for the entire area, ensuring that Emma Frost's scan would not be interrupted due to voltage fluctuations.
Banner got up and sat down next to her.
"Listen to my breathing," he said. "Inhale for three seconds, hold for one second, exhale for four seconds. Ignore everything else, just follow my rhythm."
Emma Frost nodded, closed her eyes, and did as she was told.
Her breathing gradually became steady, her fingers stopped trembling, and the Mental Scan was reconnected.
Throughout the entire process, no one uttered more than ten words in a single sentence. There were no requests for instructions or confirmations; everyone knew what to do and trusted that others would do it as well.
This is what a real team is like.
The wind blew in from outside the ruins, swirling up dust, but no one got up to block it. The city lights shone on the shattered ground, casting several intersecting shadows.
Tony suddenly spoke up, "Do you know what surprised me the most?"
He didn't look at anyone, staring at the energy core of his armor, his voice very soft.
"I can't believe I was willing to entrust my back to someone who always uses 'system notifications' as an excuse."
Ye Mo took off his glasses, wiped the lenses, and then put them back on.
"I'm quite surprised too," he said. "You understood that what I meant by 'scorch mark heating' was actually electric current reverse flow."
Banner chuckled, not loudly, but his shoulders relaxed.
"Before, after every mission, I was afraid I'd wake up with my hands covered in blood," he said. "Today... I don't feel that way."
Emma Frost opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Because you're not alone in controlling the Hulk," she said. "It's us together keeping you conscious."
Banner didn't speak, but he nodded.
Ye Mo stood up, walked to the center, and placed his right hand on the ground.
He reactivated all the vibrating piles, and the current once again crawled along the cracks, with a faint response coming from deep underground.
He didn't speak, he just nodded slightly.
Tony understood, and his armored shoulder armor slowly unfolded, entering standby mode.
Banner took a deep breath, his heart rate rose to 120, his adrenaline was under control, and he was in a state of superficial preparation.
Emma Frost placed her hands on her temples, activated her Mental Scan again, and spread her Mental Network in all directions.
The four of them were still sitting back to back, in the exact same posture as during the battle.
But their eyes looked different.
It's no longer about being on guard, about being suspicious, or about putting on a brave face.
It is certainty.
Tony glanced down at the panel; the data stream was stable, with no abnormal signals.
But he knew it was only temporary.
He raised his face and looked at Ye Mo's back.
You think he'll come back?
Ye Mo didn't turn around.
He's already on his way.
Tony didn't ask any more questions.
Banner's hands rested on his knees, his knuckles slightly white.
Emma Frost's eyelashes trembled.
Deep underground, the vibrating pile flashed red light once.
The electrical currents spread across the ground, like a net being woven.
Ye Mo's fingertip twitched again.