A deeper conversation, planning the future

The morning light was brighter than before, slanting across the corridor and casting long shadows at their feet. The wind from the vent was still blowing, and Ye Mo's hoodie slid down to his back, revealing a section of slightly messy hair at his temples. He ignored it, simply raising his hand to push up his glasses, the lenses reflecting a sliver of light.

Tony was still standing there, his hands in his work pants pockets, his gaze fixed on the faint light and shadow cast through the crack in the hospital room door. He didn't speak again, but he didn't move either. Those words from earlier—"If you really die, she'll chase you to hell with her high heels and curse you"—sounded like a joke, but he knew that some things are truths that emerge from jokes.

Ye Mo glanced at him, her throat a little dry. "She's asleep."

"Hmm," Tony responded softly, as if afraid of waking something.

A few more seconds passed in silence. The sound of the cleaning robot's wheels had long since faded into the distance, and even the ticking of the medical equipment was barely audible. This silence wasn't the exhaustion after a battle, nor the relaxation after a mission, but rather a... sense of finally being able to catch one's breath. It was as if they could finally stop and think: what's next?

Tony moved first. He turned around, leaned against the wall, and gently bumped his shoulder against it, as if testing the sturdiness of the building.

"I used to think that as long as I built stronger armor, I could protect everyone," he said, his tone as flat as if he were talking about the weather. "Now I know that armor alone isn't enough."

Ye Mo didn't respond, but instead looked down at his hand. The crack had closed, leaving only a faint white line on the skin, like a scab that had formed on a scraped knee when he was a child. He remembered the system notification saying "energy overload," but he didn't believe it and stubbornly pushed the last wave of Regeneration into Pepper's nervous system. Looking back now, it was a bit reckless, but at the time he had no other choice.

"We need more people," he finally spoke, his voice not loud, "And we need more capable people."

Tony turned to look at him. "You mean yourself?"

"I'm referring to everyone who can step forward." Ye Mo looked up. "Like you, like me, like whoever might emerge in the future. The problems of this world are no longer something that a single suit of armor can handle."

Tony scoffed. "So you mean we need to upgrade our tactics?"

"It's not an upgrade, it's a change of approach." Ye Mo took two steps forward and stood by the window. Outside the glass was the New York skyline; the morning mist hadn't completely dissipated, and the buildings looked like biscuits soaked in light soda. In the distance, there was the sound of helicopters; the morning news team must be filming the aftermath. "Look over there, half of Fifth Avenue South was bombed yesterday, and today people are already setting up breakfast carts. They don't care who's attacking whom; they care about getting to work on time and their children going to school. But what if one day it's not a lab being attacked, but a school? What if it's the subway? No matter how fast you fly, you can't stop every bullet."

Tony didn't refute. He stared out the window, his gaze somewhat vacant. He knew Ye Mo was right. He had spent his whole life building things—armor, weapons, defense systems—but even the most advanced technology couldn't prevent people's hearts from turning bad, or prevent madmen from suddenly emerging from the ground.

"So what do you think we should do?" he asked.

"We can explore more Mutants abilities to improve our overall strength," Ye Mo said directly. "I'm not saying we need to build a super-powered army, but rather that we need people who can handle situations that conventional methods can't address. For example, mental interference, spatial penetration, viral resistance... These abilities shouldn't just be hidden in someone's mind or on some organization's blacklist."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to find a legitimate reason, or do you actually want to get things done?"

"Yes, I have them all." Ye Mo grinned. "It's a fact that I can absorb ability fragments. If I don't use them, they just accumulate there. But if I use them, at least a few fewer people will die next time we face a similar situation. Don't you think it's worth it?"

Tony was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly asked, "Didn't you say before that you just wanted to live a peaceful life?"

"Yes," Ye Mo nodded, "But I've realized now that 'peace' isn't something you can hide from. The more you hide, the further away it gets. Like last time in the cave, if I hadn't rushed out, you wouldn't be standing here talking nonsense to me now."

Tony's lips twitched slightly. "You still remember that?"

"I remember you threw up all over me." Ye Mo shrugged. "I can still smell that stench in my dreams."

Tony chuckled, then shook his head. "Alright, at least you're prepared. So how do you plan to 'explore'? Go around grabbing Mutants on the street and shaking hands? 'Hey buddy, can I borrow your powers for a bit? I'll pay you back right away'?"

"I'm not that stupid," Ye Mo shrugged. "I mean, let's establish a mechanism. For example, information sharing, risk warnings, and emergency response. You have the technology, and I have the access capabilities. Let's build a framework so we can react quickly when needed. Let's not wait until people are almost dead before we think about saving them."

Tony stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Technology needs to keep up too. I can optimize the defense network and early warning system, and add multi-band scanning modules to detect abnormal energy fluctuations in advance. You'll be responsible for... expanding 'unconventional combat capabilities'?"

"More or less." Ye Mo nodded. "I can sense fragments of ability and try different combinations. Although it won't always be successful, it's better than nothing."

"Then you'd better be careful." Tony stared at him. "Don't one day try to 'self-destruct and Wall Phasing,' and end up sending yourself straight to the Earth's core."

"The system will notify you of the cooldown time," Ye Mo said. "Besides, I'm thick-skinned; I won't die."

"You're quite confident in yourself." Tony clicked his tongue, but his gaze had changed. It was no longer the scrutinizing look of "Don't mess things up," but rather a genuine acceptance of the other person as a partner.

The two fell silent again, but the atmosphere was different. The silence before was the exhaustion of surviving a disaster; the silence now was the settling of thoughts before they came to fruition.

Ye Mo gazed out the window and whispered, "We need to become stronger."

Tony didn't respond immediately. He glanced at Ye Mo's profile; the silver-rimmed glasses reflected the sunlight slightly, obscuring his eyes. But he knew this man was no longer the college student who hid in a corner saying he "didn't want to cause trouble." He had experienced explosions, viruses, mental interference, and falls from great heights, returning time and again, scars upon scars, yet speaking less and less.

"I used to think that protection was something you had to shoulder alone," Tony finally spoke. "Now I think that protection means having someone willing to share the burden with you."

Ye Mo turned to look at him.

Tony didn't laugh or tease him; he just stared straight at him. "That's why I'm here to handle the tech stuff, and you go deal with the 'unconventional' stuff. We can't guarantee everything will be perfect, but at least next time someone falls, we'll be one step ahead."

Ye Mo didn't speak, he simply extended his hand.

Tony paused for a moment, then smiled and reached out to touch palms with his. There was no loud clapping, just a light and brief touch, like some kind of confirmation.

Then the two of them turned around at the same time and walked towards the control room.

The corridor lights were still on, but the emergency red lights had long been switched off. Ye Mo paused as he passed the laboratory door. The room was a mess; the alloy column was still stuck in the container base, dried green residue lay on the floor, and data boards and burnt circuits were scattered on the workbench. This was the place where they had just won, and also the place where they had almost lost.

Tony stopped. "What are you looking at?"

"Let's see how much we can salvage." Ye Mo walked in, picked up a usable resonator fragment, wiped off the dust, and said, "This thing can still be repaired."

"Are you planning to stay here?" Tony asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"For now," Ye Mo stuffed the fragment into his pocket. "We at least need to run the early warning system again. Didn't you say you wanted to optimize the network? I can provide the energy spectrum of the drone from last time to help you calibrate the recognition model."

"Okay." Tony nodded. "Then I'll go adjust the satellite data interface and reinstall the Mark 42's flight module while I'm at it. This crappy armor is flying like it's drunk."

"Why don't you let it drink Red Bull?" Ye Mo laughed.

"Shut up."

The two bickered as they walked toward the control panel. Tony sat down, swiped his fingers across the holographic screen, and brought up a city map. Ye Mo stood beside him, watching the flashing red dots—high-risk areas marked during the earlier battle.

"Short-term goal: Rebuild the defense system," Tony said, tapping the screen. "Long-term goal: Establish a rapid response mechanism. Sounds like a S.H.I.E.L.D.. presentation, but this time we'll do it ourselves."

"No need to write a report," Ye Mo said.

"No need to report to your superiors," Tony sneered. "After all, we are their superiors."

Ye Mo smiled and didn't say anything more. He walked to the window and looked at the city again. The sunlight had already filled the high-rise buildings, and traffic was beginning to flow on the streets. Ordinary people were returning to their daily lives, but they knew that calm was never the norm, but merely a gap between storms.

But he also understands that precisely because of this, someone needs to step forward and extend this gap a little longer, and then a little longer still.

Tony was typing on the keyboard behind him, humming that old rock song, still way off-key.

Ye Mo didn't turn around, but simply said in a low voice, "Next time, we need to be faster."

Tony's fingers paused, but he didn't look up. "Then practice."

The lights in the control room were on, data scrolled on the screens, and the city's silhouette was reflected in a blurry pattern on the glass. Two figures stood side by side, one at the console, the other by the window, neither speaking.

A gust of wind blew in from the vent, ruffling a corner of Ye Mo's hoodie.