Ye Mo's eyes were still closed, his consciousness seemingly being pulled into deep water by an invisible thread. The sounds of the laboratory machines gradually faded, replaced by a low-frequency vibration, like a buzzing sound emanating from the very bones. He didn't move his fingers or adjust his breathing, simply letting that feeling envelop him—the traces of the virus left by the system at the end of the previous chapter were still floating in his body, like a piece of iron filings at the bottom, and now it was beginning to resonate.
He silently thought to himself, "Let's trace this thing back to its source."
There was no light or direction in the space of consciousness, only a hazy gray fog. He tried to simulate coordinates with his vision, but failed; he tried to bring up a map projection, but the system ignored him. In the end, he simply gave up all the fancy tricks and focused on "listening" to that resonance. It was like when he was a child, he would eavesdrop on the songs playing next door in the dormitory hallway, pressing his ear against the wall and identifying the person by their voice.
Three seconds later, he noticed something amiss.
It wasn't a sound, nor an image, but a "warming sensation"—very subtle, like someone lighting a lighter in the distance, a click, the flame flickering for half a second before going out. But the rhythm... felt familiar.
He immediately mentally reviewed the records: the data waveforms from the Anti-Extremis Armor test, the viral activity curve in Pepper's body, and what Tony had just said about "exploding every four and a half minutes."
It matches up.
That's the cycle.
He held his breath, mentally setting a virtual timer to wait for the next signal. Time ticked by, and the sound of the wind outside the lab suddenly became exceptionally clear, but he knew it was an illusion—his brain always liked to over-interpret things to fill in the blanks.
Another two hundred seconds or so passed.
They've arrived.
The same temperature fluctuation occurred, but the amplitude was 0.3% higher than the previous one, and the duration was extended to 3.8 seconds. Immediately following was a third wave, with almost identical intervals, as if someone was adjusting the equipment, gradually increasing the pressure.
"It's not random interference," Ye Mo mentally concluded, "It's a stress test before the practical exercise."
He immediately activated the " Memory Resonance " function, connecting the three fluctuations into a line and deducing the energy return path in reverse. The process was similar to navigation in reverse, except this time he relied on his body's instincts to find his way. He felt like a metal rod stuck in the ground, being activated little by little by underground currents.
Suddenly, a pulling force came from the southeast.
It's weak, but stable.
He followed that force and "walked" forward, encountering several sources of noise interference along the way, which seemed to be residual life signals from other experimental subjects, but he forcibly filtered them out. Finally, his consciousness stopped at a point—where a continuous heat source was accumulating, and the temperature curve showed regular pulses, consistent with the characteristics of human modification experiments.
"Found it."
He opened his eyes abruptly, his gaze refocusing on the lab's main screen. Cold sweat trickled down his temples, and a tightness gripped the back of his head, as if he had just run three kilometers and was still struggling to answer questions. He raised his hand to steady himself on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.
Tony, who was looking down at the dashboard, looked up when he heard the noise. "Why does your face look like it's covered in plaster?"
"Southeast," Ye Mo caught his breath, "Within fifteen kilometers, there's a heat source cluster that's heating up at a rate consistent with the virus's breakdown cycle. They're about to make their move."
Tony frowned, his fingers immediately swiping across the control panel to bring up a satellite map. A red dot flashed, circling an abandoned industrial area, full of old factories and power outage facilities—a typical "finish and run" type of outpost.
"How can you be sure it's not some madman welding the iron frame?" he asked directly.
"Because the welding frame doesn't heat up precisely every four minutes and thirty seconds." Ye Mo rubbed his temples. "Moreover, the third pulse was five percent stronger than the first; this is a load test. Either a new batch of test subjects is about to be activated, or Killian himself is going to take over."
Tony stared at the map for two seconds, then suddenly sneered, "You've really mastered Telepathy? Last time you weren't even sure if you could use it yourself, and now you can locate the enemy?"
"I don't have that ability," Ye Mo grinned. "The system used me as a fishing rod and the virus remnants as bait. I don't even know when I took the bait. That last trip almost drained my brain."
Tony snorted and didn't question it further. He knew that although Ye Mo loved to joke, he never joked about important matters. He quickly switched to tactical mode, turned off the main light, and the wall projection automatically switched to a 3D terrain map, with red light filling the entire control area.
"Notify S.H.I.E.L.D. channel to go on high alert." He spoke softly, but every word was carefully chosen. "Keep a low profile for now. Have them send two drones to circle the perimeter, but don't alert anyone inside."
Ye Mo nodded without speaking. He leaned against the table to calm himself, his fingertips still feeling the lingering vibrations, like his ears still ringing from prolonged earphone use, even after he took them off. The system didn't indicate a cooldown period or pop up any "successful use" message; it was as quiet as usual. But it was indeed working—in just a few minutes, the [ Passive Resonance Protocol ] had completed its first real-world tracking, officially upgrading from a "decorative device" to a "tool."
Tony glanced at him while operating the machine. "Could you at least give me a heads-up next time? You just close your eyes and open them again to say 'they're in the southeast,' making it seem like I'm the one who has to respond."
"You want me to sense things while livestreaming?" Ye Mo rolled his eyes. "Next time I'll provide you with a commentary microphone, so I can say something and you just shout, 'Who in the family understands this?'"
"Okay, all the tips are yours then." Tony's lips twitched, and he continued adjusting the parameters.
A few seconds of silence fell between them. The sound of machinery resumed dominating, but the atmosphere had changed. Before, it was a brief moment of relaxation after the completion of research and development; now it was the silence before drawing a bow. The red dot on the screen kept refreshing, and the thermal model built by the drone gradually took shape, showing at least six active heat sources concentrated in a three-story building in the center of the factory area.
"These people are really pushing themselves," Tony said, pointing to the screen. "The one with the highest body temperature is close to forty degrees Celsius; any higher and he'd spontaneously combust."
"The side effects of the Extremis Virus," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "They're not using people now, they're using artillery. Killian isn't afraid of bombs, he's afraid of not having enough firepower."
Tony didn't reply, his finger pausing for a moment on the control panel. He knew Ye Mo was right—this level of experimentation had long exceeded the scope of medicine; it was purely wartime-level human modification. And the fact that the other side dared to do this meant that the plan had already progressed to its final stage.
"What do you think his goal is?" Tony asked.
"I don't know," Ye Mo shook his head, "But choosing this location is interesting. It's not too far from the city center, not too close. If it explodes, the impact will be huge; people won't be able to save them or escape. If it happens in the middle of the night, tomorrow's headlines will be 'Mysterious Explosion Causes Dozens of Casualties,' and then he can jump out as the savior, perfectly establishing his virtuous image."
"A typical villain story," Tony scoffed. "Unfortunately, he ran into the two of us—one who can tell fortunes, and the other who can build guns."
Ye Mo was about to retort when his head suddenly felt heavy, as if someone had slapped him on the back. He staggered half a step, only managing to steady himself by bracing himself on the table. A blur flashed before his eyes, like a figure in a lab coat standing in the firelight, holding a syringe, a smirk playing on their lips.
The image flashed by in an instant.
He blinked, then returned to normal.
"Not again?" Tony sensed something was wrong.
"It's nothing," Ye Mo waved his hand. "I probably used too much power just now, and the system gave me an ad."
What advertisement?
"New product launch, limited-time offer, buy one get one free, no compensation if it dies." He smirked. "I suggest a bad review."
Tony rolled his eyes and turned back to his work. He knew Ye Mo was hiding his discomfort, but he couldn't ask questions right now. He was connecting the core module of the Anti-Extremis Armor to a portable power source, ready to launch an attack at any moment. Although he hadn't decided whether to rush in now, the preparations had to be done properly.
Ye Mo stood there for a while, making sure the images in his mind were no longer flashing wildly, before looking at the screen again. The heat map had been updated; the temperature of the central building had risen by two degrees, and the distribution was more concentrated, clearly indicating that people were gathering there.
"They're waiting for orders," he said.
"You'd better give an order already," Tony said without looking up. "Like 'Let me rest for five minutes' or 'Please shut up.'"
"What I want to say is—" Ye Mo stared at the red area, his voice lowering, " Killian knows we're watching him."
Tony paused, "Based on?"
"That afterimage just now," Ye Mo touched his forehead, "Wasn't a system notification; it was aimed at me. He was testing the mental link, trying to see if he could trace it back. This was his way of greeting me."
The air suddenly became quiet.
The red light projected onto their faces looked like burning charcoal.
Tony slowly raised his head. "So you're saying that we not only found him, but he also knows we found him?"
"More or less." Ye Mo nodded. "And the fact that he didn't dodge means he's ready for the next step."
Tony stared at the screen for a long time, then suddenly laughed, "Interesting. I thought today would at most involve repairing armor, but it turned out to be a live-action PUBG match delivered right to my doorstep."
"Then you'd better pick up your gear carefully." Ye Mo cracked his knuckles. "I might have to restart this round as a dead corpse."
"Don't worry," Tony patted him on the shoulder, "You won't die. At most, you'll be resurrected."
Just as Ye Mo was about to curse, he suddenly noticed that the pocket against which the Vibranium fragment was pressed was slightly warm. He took it out and looked at it; the surface was still icy cold, but when he held it in his hand, he could feel a faint vibration inside, the frequency of which... was exactly the same as the signal he had just captured.
He didn't speak, he just gripped the shards tightly.
Inside the laboratory, the machines were still humming softly.
The red dot on the screen, flashing on and off, resembles a heartbeat.