Five signals alarmed simultaneously, and all the red dots on the screen pointed to the same location—the place where he was sitting.
Ye Mo didn't move; his fingers were still on the consciousness interface. The data surge had come too fast, like someone had hit him on the head with a hammer. The Vibranium fragments were hot enough to fry an egg on his palm. He knew what this meant: the other side had not only discovered him but also locked his coordinates.
This doesn't feel like a battle; it feels more like the proctor coughing at your desk before an exam.
He took a deep breath and shut down all external broadcast channels. He also cut off S.H.I.E.L.D..'s listening ports, the city rescue channel, and even Tony Liu's emergency contact frequency. Now no one could receive his signal, and of course, he couldn't hear anything outside either.
Then he brought up the encryption module, packaged the whisper and the five waveforms, named it "X-01 Level Latent Threat," and stored it in the offline database. This database had no internet access, was physically isolated, and even system notification sounds couldn't get through. Only after doing all this did he breathe a sigh of relief.
The next step is counter-tracking.
He stuffed a bunch of fake data packets into the signal return path, simulating the garbled stream after a system crash. For example, he wanted the other side to see the base's energy reading suddenly drop to zero, or to hear a recording of Regeneration abilities going berserk. In short, he wanted them to think that the machine was burnt out and not worth looking at anymore.
After finishing all that, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. It was just dawn, and there were car noises on the street, but he couldn't hear them here. The base was three floors underground, with concrete and Vibranium Alloy walls, providing excellent sound insulation.
But he knew that this kind of protection was useless against " Observer A ". Observers don't find people by their ears; they directly perceive the form of existence. Just like a mosquito smelling blood, closing the window won't help.
Therefore, he needs to upgrade.
He opened the nineteenth floor of the Gene Spiral Tower and found the ability fragments of " Steel Bone Body " and " Diamond Form ". He could assemble these two pieces a long time ago, but he hadn't tried because they consumed too much energy. But he couldn't worry about that now.
He dragged the fragments to the fusion zone and Tony the nanomaterial parameters left behind by Tony. This was experimental data he had taken after defeating the Chitauri, which could enhance structural stability. After the combination was activated, a sharp pain shot through his consciousness, as if someone was screwing his bones with a screwdriver.
Three seconds later, the program indicated: The composite crystallization protective layer is being generated, with an estimated completion time of four hours.
Okay, that's enough.
This new protective shell is not only self-repairing, but it can also absorb energy fluctuations in specific frequency bands. Simply put, it turns the base into a "silent mode" black box. From the outside, it's impossible to tell whether there are any living people inside or whether any systems are running.
Next, we move on to the second layer: perception countermeasures.
He activated his Telepathy module and began designing a "pseudo-consciousness field transmitter." The principle wasn't complicated; he simply pretended to be out of control. For example, he could simulate the state of cell overload when his Regeneration abilities went berserk, or the mental shock he experienced when he failed to Wall Phasing Technique and got stuck inside.
These kinds of signals are particularly noticeable, like shining a flashlight at night. A normal person wouldn't do that, but a superhuman on the verge of collapse might. He guessed that " Observer A " would be interested in this anomaly and might come back to take another look.
If it moves again, it will have a chance to capture more data.
Set a periodic release rhythm—send a false signal every two hours for seven days. It's like setting a trap; let's see if the other party takes the bait.
The last one is the most difficult: the ability combination trial.
He returned to the mental sandbox and began a closed experiment. The goal was to combine the three modules of " Collective Consciousness Perception," " Speech Residue Detection," and " Emotion Recognition." This was not a simple superposition; the underlying logic had to be recompiled.
First attempt failed, system error: Information overload, 87% risk of damage to consciousness.
He quit and started over, reducing the output power and switching to progressive loading. This time it reached 63%, then everything went black, and blood trickled from his nose. He wiped it away and continued.
On the seventh attempt, it finally stabilized at 41%. Although it couldn't be used in actual combat, it at least proved that this approach was viable.
If this channel can truly be opened in the future, he might be able to probe the existence of " Observer A " in reverse. Not with his eyes, nor with instruments, but with his consciousness to "touch" higher-dimensional information.
After finishing all this, he had been working continuously for six hours. His neck was stiff as an iron rod, and his eyes were dry and burning. But he didn't stop.
The external protection progress has been checked: 78%. The pseudo-consciousness field is entering its countdown; the first release will begin in eight minutes. All systems are running smoothly without any downtime.
He closed his eyes and placed his hand back on the consciousness interface. The next test had already begun loading; this time, it was a reverse simulation of the psychological state of being "observed." He wanted to see if knowing he was being watched would trigger a new reaction.
The pressure inside his head slowly increased, and sweat began to bead on his forehead again. This time, he didn't wipe it away.
Just as the assembly was about to take shape, the Vibranium fragment in the pocket trembled slightly.
It wasn't scalding hot, nor was it cold.
It's a very slight vibration, like a phone receiving a message while on silent mode.
He opened his eyes and stared at the main screen.
The countdown for the pseudo-consciousness field stopped at 00:00:03.
The sensor in the southeast corner of the base suddenly detected a faint fluctuation, 0.5 Hz, lasting for less than a second, before disappearing.
He didn't move, nor did he activate the alarm.
We simply extracted that batch of data and marked it separately.
Then re-enter the sand table model and compare it with the previous three vibrations.
The frequencies are similar.
Phase in sync.
The source direction... is directly facing his current location.
He sat up straight.
It's not a coincidence.
They really came.
And it knew he was waiting for it.