All or nothing

Seven minutes have passed.

Ye Mo's hands were still in his hoodie pockets, his fingertips touching the vibration of the system notification. He didn't move, his eyes fixed on the direction of the portal. The purple halo was brighter than before, and its edges began to tremble, as if something was trying to squeeze out from it.

Tony's voice suddenly came through the communication channel.

"The situation has changed."

Ye Mo looked up. The red-gold armored vehicle hovered 300 meters in the air, its fuselage slightly tilted, facing the energy core at the bottom of the mothership. Tony's scan data was pushed directly to the corner of his field of vision: the number of enemy troops had doubled, the mothership's charging progress had reached 67%, and the second phase of deployment was expected to begin in three minutes.

"Conventional firepower won't stop them," Tony said. "I just blew up two assault vehicles, and they didn't even stop; the ones after them just ran them over."

Ye Mo nodded. "I know."

"So I contacted S.H.I.E.L.D.." Tony's tone was as casual as if he were discussing what to have for breakfast. "They deployed a small nuclear bomb and hid it in an underground warehouse in New Mexico. A drone is transporting it; it'll be over New York in forty minutes."

The air suddenly seemed to sink.

Ye Mo didn't speak, but his fingers dug into his palm. He knew Tony wouldn't act recklessly, but a nuclear bomb was no joke. The shockwave would flatten half of Manhattan, radioactive fallout would drift towards New Jersey, and civilians wouldn't have time to evacuate.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Tony replied curtly. "But I'm even less sure if more people will die if I don't do it."

Data scrolled before his eyes. Ye Mo saw that more than two hundred Chitauri soldiers had gathered below the mothership, and the airship formation had also been reorganized. Their goal was clear—to completely occupy the ground and establish a permanent passage.

Conventional tactics simply cannot sustain the game.

"Is there any other way?" he asked again.

"Yes." Tony paused for a moment, "You rush in and dismantle its power center."

These words sounded like a joke, but Ye Mo could tell they carried weight. This wasn't a test, it was a trial. Tony was seeing if he would take the job.

He didn't answer.

Because he knew how difficult it was to get inside the mothership. Three layers of protective shields, automatically tracking turrets, and those mechanical guards that could split apart. Last time, the Hulk tried to force his way in, but he was blasted out in three seconds.

"If a nuclear bomb were to detonate, the entire area would be reduced to ruins," he said.

"I know," Tony's voice lowered. "It's not like I'm a new hero. I checked the wind direction, chose the lowest yield tactical Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and controlled the detonation altitude at eight thousand meters to minimize ground damage."

"Try your best?" Ye Mo sneered, "When you say 'try your best,' you almost blew up Capitol Hill last time."

"That was an accident," Tony argued. "This time, I delivered it myself to make sure it detonated in the optimal position. Not a second off, not an extra square meter burned."

Ye Mo closed his eyes. The Mental Network was still running, marking the location of every enemy. He could see Tony's armor status: the right arm thruster was slightly overheated, the left shoulder armor had a crack, and the energy reserve was only 58%.

This person has pushed themselves to the limit.

But the more this is the case, the less we can let him shoulder everything alone.

"Have you considered," Ye Mo opened his eyes, "What if the mothership initiates a jump before the explosion? What if the nuclear bomb detonates in space and the energy recoils back?"

"The orbital lock-on has failed; it can't fly," Tony said. "I hacked into its main control system; the engines are locked. Now it's just a big metal can, waiting to be opened."

Ye Mo remained silent.

He knew Tony was telling the truth. He also knew that this was the most effective solution at the moment.

But he still didn't want to nod.

"Are you afraid something will happen?" Tony asked.

"I'm afraid you'll play the savior again," Ye Mo said. "Every time, you're the one who rushes to the front, takes the blame, and cleans up the mess. If it blows up this time, who's going to collect your body? S.H.I.E.L.D..? Fury? Or are we waiting for Thor to come back and read your eulogy?"

Tony chuckled. "When did you become so concerned about me?"

"I'm not concerned about you," Ye Mo said. "I'm just annoyed that after you die, I'll have to clean up your mess."

There was a few seconds of silence between them.

The wind blew in from the east, carrying the smell of burning metal. There were sporadic explosions in the distance, but no one moved. Tony didn't leave, Ye Mo didn't retreat either.

"My application has been approved," Tony finally said. "The nuclear module is on its way. All I have to do is catch it, load it into the armor's external bay, fly up, and insert it into the heart of the mothership."

He spoke slowly, as if reciting an instruction manual.

But Ye Mo could tell that every word he spoke was filled with determination.

"When do you plan to tell me?" he asked.

"I'm telling you now," Tony said. "You're the first person I'm notifying."

Ye Mo gave a slight smirk. "It's an honor."

"Stop being so sour." Tony's voice turned serious. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about ordinary people, about the city, about responsibility. I've thought about all of that. But sometimes, heroes have to do the dirty work."

"Have you ever thought," Ye Mo stared at him, "That if there were a way to win without using explosives, would you try it?"

"Yes," Tony said, "Provided someone can get in alive and shut down the core. Can you do it?"

Ye Mo did not answer.

He knew Tony was right. The road existed, but it was too dangerous. Nobody dared to go there.

Unless it's him.

The system vibrated slightly in his mind. Ye Mo felt a faint fluctuation in the thirteenth floor of the "Gene Spiral Tower"—it was the fragment of the Shadowcat's ability that he had absorbed earlier, plus Wade's Healing Factor, which was barely enough to withstand a short-distance Wall Phasing.

However, the mothership's internal structure is unknown, and its energy field is chaotic; entering it could result in being sliced in two.

"Don't force me to make a choice," he said.

"I'm not forcing you," Tony said. "I'm just telling you, you don't have many options left."

After he finished speaking, the armor began to adjust its posture. Two docking ports unfolded on its back, calibrating the remote receiving frequency. The S.H.I.E.L.D.. drone signal had been received, and it was 27 minutes away from New York.

The nuclear weapons program has entered the implementation phase.

Ye Mo stood still, his hat brim pulled low to conceal his eyes. He knew Tony wouldn't turn back. Once this man made up his mind, nothing could change it.

But he couldn't just stand by and watch.

"Do you really think this is the only way?" he asked finally.

"That's how it is for now," Tony said, "Unless you tell me right now that you have a better idea."

Ye Mo remained silent.

His gaze swept across the Mental Network, taking in the mothership's energy flow pattern. The core was pulsating, like a heart. There were three layers of shields on the outside, cooling pipes in the middle, and control nodes at the very innermost part.

If he could get in... if he could approach without triggering the alarm... if his Wall Phasing Technique could last for three seconds...

Perhaps, there really is another way.

But he didn't say.

Because he hadn't figured out how to start the conversation yet.

Tony waited a few seconds, but received no reply, so he let out a soft hum.

I'll take that as a yes.

He shut down communications and switched to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s dedicated channel. The armor's navigation system began updating, and a red flight path appeared from New Mexico towards New York. The external pod locking procedure was activated, and a countdown began.

Ye Mo remained standing.

The wind is still blowing.

He suddenly raised his hand and touched his silver half-rimmed glasses. There was a crack on the lens, left from the fight just now. He hadn't replaced or repaired them.

He knew what was going to happen next.

A nuclear bomb will be sent.

Tony will fly up there.

Then, either the world is saved, or we all perish.

But he didn't want to wait for that outcome.

He ran his fingers across his palm, the pain sharpening his mind. A slight vibration indicated a remaining cooldown of eleven minutes and thirty-four seconds for the "Regenerative Phasing" skill.

That's enough.

If Tony had just delayed for a few more minutes, he would have had time to try again.

"Tony," he suddenly said.

"Um?"

"Could you postpone detonating that nuclear bomb?"

Tony paused. "What are you going to do?"

"It's nothing," Ye Mo said. "I just asked if we could wait five minutes before detonating it."

"Sure," Tony said, "But you'd better have a good reason."

"Yes," Ye Mo, looking at the sky. "I'm going somewhere."

Tony was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing.

"Are you finally going to make your move?"

"Stop talking nonsense," Ye Mo said. "Give me five minutes. Don't let the nuclear bomb explode before I do."

"Deal." Tony's voice was a little lighter. "But I'm only giving you five minutes. If you go over time, I'll still blow it up."

"Alright." Ye Mo nodded. "If you dare to bring it up earlier, I'll settle the score with you first after I die."

"Then you have to survive first," Tony said.

Communication lost.

Ye Mo stood on the rooftop, his Mental Network continuously monitoring the mothership's movements. His breathing deepened, and his muscles tensed slightly. A system notification sounded in his mind, indicating that the thirteenth layer of the "Gene Spiral Tower" was preparing for activation.

He knew this trip was likely to end badly.

But some things just have to be done by someone.

He raised his hand and looked at his watch.

There are 36 minutes left until the detonation time set by Tony.

There were eleven minutes and thirty-four seconds left before the window of action he had set for himself.

He needs this time to make final preparations.

He took off his hoodie hood, revealing his entire face. The wind blew by, carrying the smell of gunpowder.

He didn't look in Tony's direction again.

He knew that person would be waiting for him.

At least five minutes.