The moment the grappling hook snapped, Ye Mo plummeted downwards.
He didn't scream or panic. He rolled and crashed into a piece of armor plate that seemed to be stuck in mid-air. The force of the impact made his vision go black, and his ribs felt like shattered glass. Every breath he took was accompanied by a muffled thud. He lay there motionless until the dizziness subsided before slowly raising his head.
The communicator rang.
It wasn't Emma Frost, nor was it the S.H.I.E.L.D.. channel; it was Tony's private channel, the kind with maximum encryption. Tony used to say he only used this channel to curse or announce bad news, but now that it was ringing, it meant something serious had happened.
Ye Mo wiped the blood from his face and pressed the answer button.
" Ye Mo! Can you hear me?" Tony's voice pierced the air. "There's a problem with the nuclear missile. The fuse is pre-activated, the temperature is skyrocketing, and I can't access the main control system!"
Ye Mo sat up, supporting himself with his left hand and pressing his right hand to his temple. He knew where Tony was and what he was afraid of. Tony wasn't afraid of death; he was afraid of a nuclear bomb detonating prematurely, exploding over New York and killing the people still fighting below.
"Don't touch the red button," Ye Mo said. "The cooling valve is stuck. Use the backup circuit on the right wing to bypass the self-test procedure."
How do you know this?
You told me that once when you were drunk.
Tony paused for a second, then the sound of operation came through. The panel beeped, and the red light was still flashing, but the frequency had slowed down.
"It works somewhat, but it's unstable." Tony lowered his voice. "It's like someone tampered with it. It's not a system malfunction, it's external signal interference."
Ye Mo closed his eyes and expanded his consciousness. The range of his Telepathy was limited, but he was not far from the front of the mothership, while Tony was higher up, pushing the nuclear missile toward the stratosphere. He guided his senses upward along the radio waves, as if climbing an invisible rope.
He "saw" it.
The cockpit was filled with alarms, the nuclear bomb casing was glowing an abnormal blue light, and the energy readings were fluctuating wildly. This wasn't an accidental activation; someone had triggered it remotely.
"You're being targeted," Ye Mo said. "The opponent is using Asgard pulse waves, the same frequency as when Loki opens a portal."
"That's why I called you!" Tony roared. "I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have to maintain our flight attitude while also preventing the nuclear missile from igniting itself!"
Ye Mo didn't reply; he was thinking about how to get up there.
He was currently in the fractured section at the front of the mothership, where the structure was completely rotten; one wrong step could easily pierce through three decks. He looked around, trying to find something that could fly.
Thirty meters away, a Chitauri aircraft lay half-buried in the rubble, its fuselage tilted, but its thrusters were still smoking. It hadn't exploded, meaning its core was intact.
He climbed over.
Every step felt like sawing through bone. Blood seeped from the wound on his left arm, and his work pants clung to his legs, tearing off a layer of skin as he did so. He ignored it, walked to the aircraft, and removed the power unit, a fist-sized black cylinder with ventilation holes on its surface, buzzing and vibrating in his hand.
He strapped it to his back and connected it to the emergency circuit in his hoodie. This was a makeshift method Tony had taught him: using civilian batteries to simulate military interfaces; if it could last three minutes, he'd be considered a winner.
The device starts up and emits low-frequency vibrations.
He took a deep breath and ignited the thrusters.
His body lifted off the ground, swayed, and he almost tipped over. He adjusted his center of gravity, leaned forward, and slowly increased his speed. The wind blew in his face, and the smell of gunpowder mixed with the acrid smell of burning metal filled his nostrils.
"How's it going on your end?" he asked as he flew.
"It's still not working!" Tony's voice was tense. "The backup line can only delay, not eliminate. If this continues, it will force itself into the detonation countdown in ten minutes at most!"
"Hang in there," Ye Mo said. "I'm coming."
"What are you going to bring? You don't even have a proper flying machine!"
"I have thrusters."
"Just a broken part? You think you're Rocket Man?"
I had no other choice.
Tony paused for two seconds, then his tone changed. "... You're injured?"
"Minor injury."
"Bullshit! Your breathing is trembling and you're slurring your words; you've definitely broken ribs. You'd be throwing your life away if you came up here now!"
"And what about you? If you were to take a nuclear bomb and rush into space, wouldn't that be even more like suicide?"
"I am Iron Man! I have my armor!"
"I am Mr. X, and I have a brain."
Tony didn't say anything more.
Ye Mo continued flying forward. Reaching an altitude of 1,500 meters, he saw the New York skyline below, ablaze with lights, but the specific streets were no longer visible. He reduced the thruster power to conserve energy. This thing couldn't last long; he had to time it precisely.
"Listen," Ye Mo said, "Send me the temperature data of the nuclear bomb casing. I'll see if I can remotely interfere with that intrusion signal."
You do not have access permission.
"I don't need permissions, I just need the fluctuation frequency. You tell me the number, and I'll record it."
Tony hesitated for a moment, then began to read, "Outer shell temperature, 127 degrees... 131... 135... Wait, it jumped! 160!"
Ye Mo closed his eyes and converted the string of numbers into an energy waveform, reconstructing the signal model in his mind. He discovered a pattern—each temperature spike occurred after a specific value, as if triggered by a chain reaction.
"It's resonance," he said. "They're using a fixed frequency to shock the cooling system, causing it to misinterpret it as overheating. Try inputting a negative wave in reverse to cancel it out."
"Negative wave? You think this is a karaoke mixing console?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
Tony cursed and started operating the system. The panel beeped rapidly, and after a few seconds, the red light flashed less frequently.
"It worked!" Tony's voice rose. "The temperature has dropped, 148... 140... It's stable!"
"Don't be too happy yet," Ye Mo said. "This is only a temporary suppression; they could change their frequency at any time."
"I know," Tony said, catching his breath, "But at least we don't have to blow it up right now."
Ye Mo nodded, even though the other person couldn't see him. He looked up at the sky, and Tony's figure was already above the clouds, just a small red dot against the starlight.
"I'm almost there," he said.
"Don't exaggerate," Tony said. "You're still two kilometers away from me. Can the thrusters hold up?"
Ye Mo did not answer.
The device behind him suddenly shook, and the buzzing sound weakened. He looked down and saw that the power indicator light had turned from green to yellow.
Three minutes left.
He gritted his teeth and accelerated forward.
The wind picked up, howling through his ears. He felt the wound on his left shoulder reopen, blood streaming down his arm and dripping onto his work pants, leaving a dark red stain.
"Hey," Tony suddenly said, "You're still alive, aren't you?"
"Alive."
"Then remember, if it really blows up, don't come near. I'll handle it myself."
Don't you think you've been too sentimental?
"I'm not being sentimental, I'm just being reasonable. If you die, no one will claim your body; if I die, at least AI will post my obituary."
Ye Mo smiled, which aggravated his wound, causing him to wince in pain.
"Don't worry," he said, "If I really get up there, the first thing I'll do is kick your ass."
The thruster issued an overload warning.
He glanced at the battery level—one minute and twenty seconds left.
We are 1,200 meters away from Tony's location.
He turned off the lighting and concentrated all the energy into the propulsion system. The device vibrated violently, as if it were about to fall apart at any moment. He hugged it tightly, leaned forward, and like a wobbly missile, rushed towards the small red dot.
" Ye Mo," Tony's voice lowered, "If you can't get up here, I'll handle it myself."
"What the hell are you going to do about it?"
"I'm serious."
"Me too."
There was silence on the other end of the communication.
Ye Mo stared ahead as the clouds began to thicken and the starlight blurred. He knew that above him lay the stratosphere, where the air was thin and an ordinary person wouldn't last more than a few minutes.
He had no oxygen mask, no thermal clothing, only a tattered hoodie and a pair of blood-stained work pants.
But he had to go up.
Because he had promised Tony that he wouldn't let anyone shoulder everything alone.
The thruster battery level dropped to one minute.
He gritted his teeth and continued to accelerate.
A hole was torn in the clouds.
He saw Tony.
The Iron Man Armor gleamed faintly, and a nuclear bomb hung on its back, like a star ready to explode at any moment.
He's still 800 meters away.
Fifty seconds.
Forty seconds.
Thirty seconds.
The thrusters started smoking.
He doesn't care.
Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds.
Five seconds.
The device emitted one last whistle before shutting down completely.
He lost momentum and began to fall.
But he had already reached Tony's signal range.
He pressed the communication button one last time.
" Tony."
"I am here."
"Catch me."