Jane sat on the metal frame of the high platform, her eyes completely black, a stiff smile on her lips. A purplish-black halo flowed slowly beneath her skin, pulsating as if it were alive. Ye Mo half-squatted on the ground, the dull pain from hitting the barrier still lingering in his ribs, his palms empty, the arc of electricity failing to reignite.
He stared intently at Jane's face, without blinking.
The system still isn't responding.
But in that instant, a data point flashed through his mind—0.7 Hz, non-electromagnetic, non-biological, and not belonging to any known variant ability spectrum. This frequency matched perfectly with the fluctuations of the research vehicle's antenna array, and also with the last frequency hopping of the device at the end of the drain pipe.
"It's not a coincidence," he said in a low voice, as if afraid of disturbing something. "These things can synchronize."
Emma Frost leaned against his left shoulder, the blood seeping from her nose had congealed into thin, dark red lines. Her breathing was rapid, but she refused to close her eyes. She raised her hand to wipe her face, her fingertips stained with a little mucus, and frowned as she flicked it away. "I can try one more time. A superficial scan, not deep."
"You just suffered a backlash," Ye Mo, turning his head to look at her. "One brain explosion is enough; another one and you'll really turn into White Queen statue."
"So you're just waiting to die?" She sneered, trying to stand up, but her knees buckled. "Jane's still inside. She hasn't completely disappeared. I can feel... something struggling."
Ye Mo didn't reply. He knew Emma Frost was right, but he also knew how dangerous this "feeling" was. That kind of multi-whisper-like mental attack was simply beyond what the human mind could withstand. That attack just now wasn't just a rebound; it was more like a warning—don't touch it, this is a forbidden zone.
He looked down and touched his glasses frame; the lenses reflected the faint light filtering through the crack above his head, a fleeting glimpse. Then he pulled the torn piece of reflective film from his work pants pocket, held it between his fingers, and turned it over.
The edges of the film were charred, a trace left from its previous spontaneous combustion upon contact with the ground.
He slowly raised it to his eyes, facing Jane.
Light pierced through the membrane, casting a small, distorted shadow on the ground. But in that instant, extremely subtle ripples appeared at the edge of the shadow—as if the air were trembling, or as if some unseen energy was slowly permeating reality.
"Something's not right," he murmured. "This isn't magic, nor is it technology... This is 'existence' itself being rewritten."
Emma Frost gasped for breath. "What do you mean?"
"It means," Ye Mo retracted the membrane and squinted, "That this thing isn't possession, it's parasitism. It used Jane's body as Anchor to squeeze itself into this dimension. And where we're standing now is no longer entirely 'reality'."
After he finished speaking, he reached up and patted his side, where a multi-tool knife was hidden. Although he couldn't open the barrier, he needed to confirm one thing.
He pried open the smallest screwdriver head and gently slid it across the ground.
The moment the blade touched the ground, it made a soft "sizzle" sound, followed by a wisp of blue smoke. The metal blade began to melt, dripping down like a candle.
"Damn it." He tossed the knife aside and shook his red-hot fingers a couple of times. "Is this ground corrosive now?"
"It's not a problem with the ground," Emma Frost gritted her teeth. "You're using 'standard physical rules' to measure it. But everything here—air, light, gravity...—is being redefined."
Ye Mo nodded, then suddenly smiled, "So, the system isn't malfunctioning; it's learning. Just like a person doesn't immediately know it's hot when they see fire; they have to experience it first."
As they were talking, a notification finally popped up on the " Gene Spiral Tower " interface in their minds:
[Unclassified Gene Resonance tendency detected; avoidance of exposure source recommended]
The text was very small, black on a gray background, with no sound effects or flashing notifications; it was as quiet as a false alarm.
Ye Mo's heart skipped a beat.
He knew what this meant—although it wasn't in the mutant ability database, it did have the potential to interfere with the life level. In other words, it could affect "gene expression," even if only at the edge of resonance.
" Blood of the Void..." he suddenly spoke.
"What?" Emma Frost asked.
"The name from the fragments of ancient texts." He recalled, " Bruce once casually forwarded me a bunch of deciphered documents related to Norse mythology, saying they were little-known facts about Thor. One page mentioned ' Aether,' also known as ' Blood of the Void,' whose characteristics are that they devour light, distort space, and make the host immortal until the container collapses. At the time, I thought it was a science fiction setting book, so I casually saved the image."
As he spoke, he pulled up the energy diagram from his memory: pulsed flow, low-frequency oscillation, non-periodic bursts... it all matched.
"The gravitational ripples in Jane's lab that day were its awakening. The rooftop antenna received its breathing frequency. The device at the end of the drainpipe was guiding it to land. And we are now..." He looked around, "Standing in its incubation chamber."
Emma Frost listened for a few seconds, then said, "So you mean we're trapped in a space being modified by ' Aether '? And Jane is the only living interface?"
"To be precise," Ye Mo corrected, "She is the only interface that can still maintain human form. Once she has fully transformed, this space will expand outwards, eroding reality like mold."
"What can we do?" she asked, "Can't we save her?"
"Not necessarily." He stared at Jane, "But she's not simply 'controlled' anymore; she's become Symbiote. Her consciousness is still struggling, which means she hasn't been completely swallowed up. As long as there's a heartbeat, there's a chance."
Before he could finish speaking, Emma Frost suddenly stood up, staggered, and had to grab his arm to steady herself.
"What are you going to do?" Ye Mo frowned.
"Try it," she said. "Use you as Anchor. My mental energy will be projected from you, lightly touching the edge of her consciousness like a fishing line, without probing deeply or getting entangled. If it doesn't feel right, withdraw immediately."
"That's too risky."
"It's better than sitting here waiting for it to grow." She sneered. "Don't you always say that thick-skinned people aren't afraid of getting tired? I'm thin-skinned now, but I have to tough it out."
Ye Mo looked at her and finally nodded. "Okay. But I'll count to three. If you don't react after three seconds, I'll pull you back. No matter what kind of gods you see fighting in your dream, you have to come back."
She hummed in agreement, closed her eyes, and placed her hands together in front of her chest, as if adjusting her rhythm.
Ye Mo held his breath and stared at her.
One second.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly.
Two seconds.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and slid down his temples.
Three seconds.
"Come back!" He reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
Just then, Emma Frost suddenly opened her eyes, leaned back, and spurted blood mist from her nose again, as if she had been hit by an invisible punch. She fell to the ground, her chest heaving violently, her fingers twitching and scratching at the ground.
"I heard it..." she gasped, "so many voices... not just one person speaking... it's a 'collective'... they're saying... 'Mortal minds dare to peek into Eternity?'"
Ye Mo quickly helped her up, letting her lean against his arm. "Don't talk anymore, rest."
But as soon as she finished speaking, Jian on the central platform suddenly moved.
She slowly raised her head, her neck making a slight "click" sound, as if her joints hadn't been used for a long time. Then she raised her right hand, fingers spread, palm down.
The purplish-black energy in the ground cracks suddenly accelerated, and the originally slow-flowing stream of light became violent, as if underground magma had been ignited. The spiderweb-like cracks expanded rapidly, each one shining with a dazzling blackish-purple light, as if the foundation of the entire workshop had turned into a circuit board.
Immediately afterwards, the spherical barrier enveloping them began to thicken.
The outline of the abandoned factory area outside was barely visible before, but now not a ray of light can penetrate it. The surface of the barrier has become murky, like a thick layer of ice, with energy vortexes constantly being generated and Oblivion inside.
"Damn it," Ye Mo whispered, "It sensed an attack."
"It wasn't an attack..." Emma Frost was still panting, "It was my detection... that triggered the defense mechanism. It's... reinforcing itself."
Ye Mo didn't speak, but simply pulled Emma Frost behind him, shielding her with his own strength. He stared at Jane and noticed that the rhythm of the aura around her had changed—it was no longer a uniform pulse, but rather exhibited a strange alternation of two frequencies: one strong flash followed by two weak pulsations, repeating in a cycle.
"It's adapting," he said. "And it's learning very quickly. That Mind Stone test just now made it aware of the external threat. Now it's not just reinforcing the barrier, it's optimizing its structure."
"How did you figure that out?" Emma Frost asked.
"Look at the top," he pointed. "There used to be a hole there, letting in the morning light. That spot now has the highest energy density, forming an inverted cone-shaped protective layer. It knows it's a weak point."
Emma Frost struggled to lift her head, glanced at the table, and her face paled even more. "So not only will we not be able to get out, it will become increasingly difficult for us to get out."
"That's right." Ye Mo adjusted his glasses. "And the most troublesome thing is that we don't even know who 'it' is. Is it a weapon from some alien civilization? Or a natural phenomenon in the universe? Or... some kind of primordial consciousness?"
He paused, then added, "But one thing is certain now—this thing is called the ' Aether.' It's not the enemy; it's a catastrophe. Like earthquakes, tsunamis, black holes... you can't defeat it; you can only avoid it."
Emma Frost leaned against him, her breath weak. "So... are we already in our graves now?"
"No," he shook his head. "The grave is dead, this is alive. It moves, it reacts, it learns. As long as it's still interacting, it means it hasn't completed the transformation. Jane is still alive, her consciousness is still resisting. That's the breakthrough."
He looked down at Emma Frost. "Did the voice you just heard mention 'time'? Or, was there any word about 'end' or 'beginning'?"
Emma Frost closed her eyes and recalled, "There was no specific time... but they said one thing—'Balance is about to be achieved.'"
Ye Mo's eyes narrowed.
balance.
It's not about "victory" or "conquest," but about "balance."
This indicates that the purpose of this thing is not destruction, but the establishment of a new order. It needs a stable host, a container that can hold it. And Jane is at the critical point.
"It hasn't won yet," he whispered. "It's still waiting."
"Wait for what?" Emma Frost asked.
"Wait until Jane completely gives up," he said, "Or... wait until we make a fatal mistake."
After he finished speaking, the workshop fell into a brief silence.
Only the humming sound of energy flowing through the cracks in the ground grew louder and denser.
Jane remained seated on the high platform, her eyes as black as an abyss, but the smile on her lips seemed to have deepened.
Ye Mo helped Emma Frost to a half-squat position, his gaze fixed intently on her.
He knew they couldn't afford to act rashly any longer.
Any attempt could be the last straw that breaks the camel's back.
Now, all they can do is wait.
Wait until it reveals a flaw.
Jane's consciousness struggled once more.
Wait for the next opportunity.
He gently patted Emma Frost's hand. "Are you still awake?"
"Nonsense," she scoffed. "You think I'm that easy to kill?"
"That's good." He grinned. "After all, I'm counting on you to succeed in mind-reading next time."
She didn't reply, but simply closed her eyes, leaned on his shoulder, and her breathing gradually became more even.
Ye Mo looked up and took one last look at Jian.
Her finger just twitched.