Ye Mo's right arm still gleamed with a metallic sheen, like a piece of glass that hadn't completely melted. He leaned against the broken wall, pressing his left hand to his temple, his head buzzing. The emotional resonance just now was too intense; the anxiety of his teammates, the ruthlessness of the enemy, and the fear of the civilians in the distance all crammed together, almost bursting his brain.
He closed his eyes and deliberately cut off the Mental Scan.
We can't keep charging in like this. He'd already figured it out from those few probing attacks. These black-armored warriors looked orderly, but their coordination was flawed. Every time they attacked in groups of three, one of them was always a beat behind. It wasn't that they were slow to react; it was that their movements weren't in sync.
He recalled the moment Thor unleashed his lightning; the three enemies who were about to pounce suddenly paused, as if their signal had been interfered with. This was abnormal. The Chitauri wouldn't do that; they relied on a collective consciousness link, and they never paused during a fight.
Unless... their systems are different.
Ye Mo opened his eyes and pulled a small, fingernail-sized recorder from the inside pocket of his hoodie. Tony had given it to him, saying it could capture energy fluctuation frequencies and could be used as a USB drive. He pressed and held the side button, and the screen lit up with a blue light, beginning to replay the data stream from the battle just now.
He swiped his finger to mark the exact moment Thor released the lightning, then compared it to the changes in the enemy's formation. Sure enough, 0.3 seconds after the lightning strike, the enemy's left flank briefly broke apart. He then pulled up the electromagnetic residual data from when Tony's nuclear bomb detonated and found that the waveform highly overlapped with the previous turbulence.
"So that's what you were afraid of," he said softly.
Could high-frequency oscillations disrupt their neural synchronization? Possibly. These units are clearly specially trained Scavengers units, emphasizing precise coordination. Once their rhythm is disrupted, their combat effectiveness drops by half.
He quickly input the parameters and set up a pulse model. The core frequency is based on the resonance characteristics of Vibranium Resonance, superimposed with the wave curve of Lightning Conduction, forming a short and sharp energy wave. As long as it can be amplified and directionally emitted through the Vibranium plate, it can pierce their coordination system like a needle.
He named this thing: the Buzzing Protocol.
His name was a bit old-fashioned, but he was too lazy to change it. As long as it worked, that was fine.
The problem now is how to get this signal out. He can't withstand continuous release on his own; someone needs to help him recharge or cover his output window. Tony's armor can provide a stable power source, Emma Frost's Diamond Form can reflect and focus the energy, and Thor's lightning can amplify it a second later—all four of them need to act at the same time; not even a second off.
But no one could speak right now. He was still in the center of the battlefield, surrounded by the moving shadows of the enemy. He couldn't just open communication channels; who knew if they were eavesdropping?
He pressed the recorder to his forehead and used his mind to compress the data packets of the Buzzing Protocol into an encrypted message. A system notification sounded in his mind, telling him that he was ready.
But he can't send it yet.
I need to confirm this again.
He took a deep breath and reactivated his passive perception, this time locking onto only the three advancing black-armored squads. They moved steadily, their steps synchronized, and the angles at which their weapons were raised were perfectly synchronized. But during one turn, the middle soldier's foot landed a fraction of a second later than the others.
It's just this slight delay.
Ye Mo's lips twitched. He had found the Achilles' heel.
These people don't rely on conscious connection, but rather on external signals to synchronize their actions. It's like tuning a radio; once the frequency shifts, it becomes distorted. And the lightning and electromagnetic shock just now happened to hit their sensitive frequency band.
Therefore, he doesn't need greater strength, just a precise "strike".
The plan is finalized.
First, he triggers the Buzzing Protocol, using a Vibranium plate as the emission source; second, Tony releases a directional electromagnetic pulse using his armor to disrupt the enemy's main frequency band; third, Thor simultaneously unleashes a low-frequency thunderstorm to create a resonant field; Emma Frost uses her Diamond Form to reflect the aftershocks, forming a ring-shaped diffusion that covers the entire enemy formation.
Once these four steps are connected, the opponent's collaborative system will collapse.
He mentally reviewed the entire process and then eliminated a few unnecessary steps. Too much complexity leads to errors; the simpler, the better.
Now all that's missing is the starting signal.
He looked up at the sky. The clouds hadn't dispersed yet, but the wind had changed direction. In the distance, the charging sound of the concussion cannons grew increasingly urgent, and flashes of red light illuminated the ground. The enemy was about to press forward.
We can't wait any longer.
He reached up and touched the communicator behind his ear, then pressed it gently.
"Attention everyone, I have a new plan."
He had barely finished speaking when he felt a twitch in his right arm. The Regenerative Phasing was still cooling down, and the residual heat of the Vibranium Resonance crept up his veins, feeling like ants crawling under his skin. He gritted his teeth and straightened up, his gaze sweeping across the open space amidst the ruins.
Tony landed in the southeast corner, where there's an intact billboard that can be used as cover. Thor was forced back in the northwest, and Emma Frost fell closest to the residential buildings. As long as they're alive, they should all receive this message.
He didn't say anything more, afraid of revealing his location. He simply sent out the data packet quietly, along with a countdown: execute in seven seconds, regardless of whether you hear it or not, just follow that timing.
Seven seconds is too short, but it's enough.
He looked down to check the recorder; the battery was at 68%, and the signal strength was normal. The Vibranium plate was pressed against his palm; it was a little cooler than before, so it could be used again.
He moved his wrist; the translucency on his right arm was fading, and his skin tone was gradually returning to normal. But his fingertips were still cold, as if he had just touched ice.
He knew this didn't mean he was safe.
The real battle hadn't even begun. All those charges, blocks, and rescues earlier were just dealing with the situation. But now, for the first time, he felt he had the rhythm in his hands.
It wasn't anyone pushing him along; he figured out how to walk that path himself.
He slowly crouched down against the wall, his back pressed against the rough cement surface. Footsteps approached from afar, rhythmic and growing closer. Three black-armored warriors appeared at the street corner, advancing slowly in a triangular formation.
He didn't move.
He's waiting.
Wait seven seconds.
Waiting for the most opportune moment.
He stared into the eyes of the leader. There were no pupils, only two dark red orbs of light. But they walked mechanically, each step the same distance, as if controlled by a program.
These kinds of people are fearless and inflexible. If you find the switch, you can make them all shut down.
He put the recorder back into his inner pocket and pressed his hands against the outside of his thighs. The Vibranium plates in his palms began to heat up, as if sensing something.
The countdown has entered its final three seconds.
He closed his eyes and reconnected to the Mind Stone network. This time, it wasn't a search or a probe, but rather wiring. He drew four paths in his mind, each pointing to one of his three teammates' locations, connected by Buzzing Protocol.
Two seconds.
He heard the sound of the air vibrating. The concussion cannon was about to fire.
One second.
He suddenly opened his eyes, raised his right hand, and pointed his palm at the street corner.
At that very moment, the roar of thrusters came from the southeast.
Tony moved.
Ye Mo's lips curled into a smile, and he was about to give the order—
A dark shadow swept overhead.