Ye Mo stared at the main screen, his finger sliding across the consciousness interface. The vibration just now was neither an illusion nor a system false alarm. He captured the 0.5 Hz fluctuation from the southeast corner separately, imported it into the mental sandbox model, and performed a spectral overlay analysis with the data from the previous three data points.
The results are in. This wasn't a random perturbation, but rather an extremely low-frequency resonance pattern, like some kind of conscious anchoring mechanism testing the waters. The other party knew he was waiting, but it still came.
He didn't call the police or activate any defense protocols. Revealing his reaction now would only alert the other side. His strategy wasn't to hide, but to bait them.
The nineteenth level of the Gene Spiral Tower has been activated, and the " Pseudo-Personality Simulation Program " is now online. This function was recently pieced together by him. The principle is to use fragments of " Collective Consciousness Perception " as a basis, plus modules for " Speech Residue Detection " and " Emotion Recognition " to forge a false, highly sensitive Mutants consciousness.
This thing periodically releases faint mental ripples, mimicking its early state of loss of control—accelerated heartbeat, disordered cell division, and nerve tremors before its Regeneration abilities go berserk. These signals are too weak for ordinary surveillance, but to " Observer A," who finds people by sensing their presence, they are like the smell of cooking oil from a night market barbecue stall.
If it glances at the signal again, it could potentially trace the signal Circuit in reverse.
The program is set to send a false signal every two hours for seven days. It's like scattering bait around yourself and seeing if the fish bite.
After finishing, he leaned back in his chair and caught his breath. He had been working for almost eight hours straight; his neck was so stiff he couldn't turn it, and his eyes were so dry they felt like they had sand in them. But he couldn't stop.
He knew the real danger was yet to come. The person whose scepter he had knocked away and who had been forced onto the Bifrost wouldn't let things go so easily.
The scene shifts to a Asgard dungeon.
Loki sat in the center of the stone chamber, hands resting on his knees, looking like a prisoner in meditation. But his fingertips were lightly tapping the ground, and a ghostly blue rune flashed by. It was his remaining magical tendrils, quietly connecting to the ancient Asgard database.
He was researching forbidden knowledge about the " Nine Realms Rift" and the " Soul Projection Spell ".
An ancient incantation appeared on the screen, describing how to project a spiritual imprint onto another dimension, attaching it to the edge of an enemy's consciousness and gradually eroding its judgment. The price was that the caster's physical body would fall into a deep slumber, and if it failed, the soul might be permanently lost.
Loki's lips curled into a slight smile. The price was high, but it was worth the try.
He recalled Ye Mo's fighting style—withstanding divine beams of light head-on, his wounds rapidly closing; breaking through Imprisonment Spell to move forward; and that final punch that cracked his armor. It wasn't just simple Regeneration ability; it was more like some kind of extra-rule power at work.
This guy is much more troublesome than God of Thunder.
Therefore, he cannot attack head-on; he must strike from a place where it cannot be seen.
He closed his eyes and began to silently recite the incantation. The air distorted slightly, and a faint spiritual imprint quietly formed, drifting towards Earth.
Clear goal: Ye Mo.
Back at the base, Ye Mo retrieved all the memory fragments of his past battles with Loki. This time, without needing system prompts, he proactively activated the " Memory Resonance " function, replaying Loki's emotional fluctuation curves from each battle.
After a brief period of silence following a failure, they launch an even more elaborate conspiracy. The average interval is 27 days.
He wrote down the number.
Next, a "three-level early warning mechanism" was established. The first level is daily monitoring, the second level is enhanced scanning for abnormal signals, and the third level is a full-scale mobilization plan. Although no one can come to help now, the system can preload instructions and automatically notify once the conditions are triggered.
He also attempted to integrate the " Collective Consciousness Perception " and " Speech Residue Detection " modules, hoping to detect spell precursors in the early stages of enemy spellcasting in the future. This is not a simple combination; the underlying logic needs to be recompiled.
The first trial failed, and the system reported an error: Information overload, 87% risk of damage to the consciousness.
He exited and started over, reducing the output power and switching to gradual loading.
The second time I reached 43%, my vision went black, and my nose started bleeding. I wiped it away and continued.
The third attempt finally stabilized at 51%. Although it couldn't be used in actual combat, it at least proved that this approach was viable.
If this channel can be successfully established in the future, he might be able to probe higher-dimensional information instead of just passively being attacked.
The base's protection progress bar jumped to 92%. The composite crystallization protective layer was completed, and the entire space appeared deathly silent to the outside, with even heat source signals suppressed to the minimum. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned underground facility, and no one would give it a second glance.
The pseudo-consciousness field is entering its countdown; the first release will begin in ten minutes.
He closed his eyes, preparing for a new round of consciousness synchronization tests. This time, the goal was to simulate the psychological changes under the "observed" state and see if it would trigger any new reactions.
Just as the program was about to finish loading, the Vibranium fragment in my pocket trembled slightly.
It wasn't scalding hot, nor was it cold.
It's a very slight vibration, like a phone receiving a message notification while in silent mode.
He opened his eyes, but didn't move.
On the main screen, the countdown for the pseudo-consciousness field stopped at 00:00:03.
Meanwhile, the sensor in the southeast corner of the base detected another fluctuation, with a frequency of 0.5 Hz, lasting for less than a second before disappearing.
He captured this batch of data, marked it separately, and compared it with the previous three batches.
The frequencies are similar, the phases are aligned, and 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.
Unbeknownst to him, deep within that seemingly calm data stream, an extremely faint green ripple had silently adhered to the inside of the Vibranium fragment.
These patterns do not belong to him, nor to the system.
It comes from another dimension, another consciousness.
At that moment, Loki slowly opened his eyes in the stone chamber of Asgard.
His face was calm, as if he had simply ended an ordinary meditation. The remaining embers of runes on his fingertips slowly dissipated and merged into the air.
He stood up, walked to the wall, and ran his hand over the cold stone surface.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
You set up your formation, I'll move my shadow.
By the time you realize it, the chessboard has already changed hands.
Inside the base, Ye Mo restarted the testing program.
The light on the consciousness interface lit up again, and the data flow surged once more.
The Vibranium fragment rested quietly in my palm, with a normal surface temperature.
But that wisp of green veins shimmered slightly with each heartbeat.