The arc flashed again, weaker than before, like a nearly depleted battery barely managing to produce a spark before going out.
Ye Mo was still standing.
It's not because he can still fight, but because going down means the end.
His entire Steel Bone was almost shattered to pieces, with only half of his left arm's frame exposed. Blue light flickered intermittently at the fracture, like a light bulb with a poor signal. Blood dripped from between his fingers, pooling on the cement floor, dark and grimy. A gash opened in his chest, each breath tearing at his internal organs, and a dull, jagged pain emanated from his ribs, as if someone were scraping them with a file.
Malekith didn't move.
Black mist swirled around him, and the swirling dark vortex continued to slowly devour the Aether within Jian's body. His eyes burned with purple flames as he stood motionless like a statue, as if waiting for something—waiting for the fusion to complete, waiting for the last trace of resistance to disappear, waiting for the entire city to fall into eternal night.
Ye Mo knew he couldn't keep pushing through.
Five cone-shaped beams had already crippled half of his body; another round would make it difficult to even maintain his posture. But he couldn't charge forward either; Emma Frost was still lying behind him, unable to move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lying on the ground, her head tilted to one side, blood flowing from her nose down to her chin, congealing into a dark red line. She was still unconscious, but her mental energy was still trembling, as weak as a candle flickering in the wind, but it was indeed still interfering with Malekith's spellcasting rhythm.
This means... there's still a chance.
He closed his eyes briefly, and a thought suddenly popped into his head: Since I can't beat them, can I at least "listen"?
He remembered—during a sparring session with Emma Frost, the system had prompted him once. " Telepathy ability fragment detected (Lv.0), attempt to activate?" At the time, he was busy researching the Wall Phasing Technique and simply clicked "No." Later, at the end of a battle, he accidentally touched Emma Frost's hand, and her thought from a second earlier suddenly flashed through his mind, "There's an ambush on this person's left."
That was the first time he realized that he could actually "snag" some mental signals.
Emma Frost's mental energy is still functioning, albeit weakly, but like a persistent Wi-Fi signal. Malekith, on the other hand, is fully focused on controlling the fusion process, his consciousness highly concentrated, so there may be gaps in his defenses.
If he could use Emma Frost's interference as cover to slip his own consciousness in... he might be able to glean some intelligence.
He turned his head with difficulty, his vision blurry, relying solely on memory to locate Emma Frost. His lips moved, his voice so low he could barely hear himself. "Interference... just one more second... I need to get into his brain."
The moment he spoke, he wasn't sure if she could hear him.
But he sensed that faint spiritual fluctuation suddenly jolted.
It's like a response.
Emma Frost didn't wake up, but subconsciously she still received the signal.
The next second, her fingertips twitched, her brow furrowed, and veins bulged on her forehead. Even though her consciousness was almost gone, her body still instinctively released another wave of low-frequency mental impulses.
Buzz--
The air vibrated slightly, like the static on an old television screen.
Malekith's pupils contracted slightly, and he paused for a moment.
He sensed the interference but ignored it. The impact was like a mosquito bite to him. He raised his hand, and the black mist surged as he prepared to strengthen the seal.
Now!
Ye Mo abruptly closed his eyes, channeling all the remaining X-Gene energy into his brain, forcibly activating that long-dormant Telepathy Fragment.
There was no notification sound, no pop-up interface, only a sharp pain that exploded in his temples, as if someone were stabbing his brain with a needle.
He gritted his teeth and endured the excruciating pain, focusing all his attention on the moment of "slipping in".
At first, there was only chaotic blackness, interspersed with whispered murmurs, all broken words. " Oblivion... Devouring... Rebirth... Eternity Darkness..."
These are not words, but thoughts, projections of Malekith's deepest obsessions.
Ye Mo dared not venture too deep, fearing discovery. Like a thief, he slowly crept along the edge of consciousness, searching for a breakthrough.
Finally, he caught a strong current of obsession—that was Malekith's core plan.
The scene appears: After the Aether were completely extracted, Malekith did not leave.
He stood atop a tower in the city center and detonated the particles.
Dark energy spread like a virus, the ground began to crack, a rift was torn in the sky, and eternal night descended. The entire city was dragged into the " Night Abyss," and all life decayed and reorganized in the darkness, becoming nourishment for the new world.
This is not simply about taking something.
This is destruction and reconstruction.
What he wants is not power, but a restart.
Ye Mo's heart tightened.
If this thing succeeds, by tomorrow morning, this city will be gone. Not flattened, but "eaten up," and turned into a wasteland in another dimension.
He also saw the follow-up: Malekith had already buried seven energy Anchor underground, which would immediately activate a chain reaction as soon as the Aether left the host. The timing? Within three minutes of the fusion being completed.
Three minutes.
Is there enough time for Tony to put on his armor? Enough to evacuate the civilians? Enough for anyone to react?
not enough.
Ye Mo continued to probe deeper, trying to find a weakness.
But as soon as he approached the core area, a powerful backlash suddenly struck him, like being electrocuted by a high voltage. His head buzzed, and he almost fainted on the spot.
He suddenly opened his eyes, spitting out a mouthful of blood that splattered onto the cement block in front of him.
It's done.
He knew about the plan.
He was breathing heavily, each breath feeling like he was swallowing shards of glass. But his eyes changed, from a desperate struggle to a calm expression.
He didn't move.
He didn't call out to Emma Frost, didn't rush forward, and didn't make any unnecessary movements.
He knew that taking action now would be tantamount to suicide.
Malekith's will is strong; a direct confrontation with a mental intrusion would result in his death. Moreover, in his current state, he can barely stand, let alone fight.
But he knew the enemy's trump card.
That's enough.
He silently told himself, "I can't fight now, but I know how to win."
He began to regulate his breathing, trying to calm his heartbeat. His injuries were deteriorating too quickly, and the repair couldn't keep up, so he had to conserve his energy. He shifted his weight slightly backward to reduce the pressure on his legs, while secretly moving his right hand to his side—where a piece of reflective film was hidden, which he had prepared for the sneak attack.
There's no need for a sneak attack now.
But the intelligence he has now will allow him to strike a fatal blow next time.
He looked up at Malekith.
The man remained standing in the black mist, his hands immersed in the vortex, as if enjoying the process of merging. He was unaware of the mental intrusion that had just occurred, nor did he realize that the "ant" before him had seen through his entire plan.
Ye Mo's lips twitched, but he didn't laugh; blood flowed into his mouth first.
He looked down at his hands.
My fingertip twitched again.
The electric arc did not light up.
But it's okay.
You can live without electricity, but you can't stop thinking.
He slowly closed his eyes, going over the scene he had just seen in his mind: the locations of the seven Anchor, the detonation sequence, the energy delay nodes... he memorized it all.
When the next opportunity comes, he won't stubbornly resist anymore.
He will wait for a rhythm, a flaw, a point of entry that can cause the entire plan to collapse.
He opened his eyes.
His gaze was calm, with no longer any trace of struggle.
He knew how to fight.
On Emma Frost's side, the mental interference is still ongoing, weak but stable.
She still hadn't woken up, but that stubbornness was still holding her up.
Ye Mo said softly, "If you can handle it, then I can handle it too."
The voice was very soft, as if it were being spoken to her, or perhaps to herself.
He stood up straight again.
Even though his legs were shaking, even though his Steel Bone were cracking, even though blood was streaming down his trousers, he still straightened his body.
It's not to continue taking hits.
This was to make the enemy believe that he was still struggling.
camouflage.
procrastination.
wait.
He stared at Malekith, his gaze calmer than that of a seriously wounded man.
Malekith seemed to sense something, tilting his head slightly, his purple flame pupils sweeping over.
Their eyes met briefly in mid-air.
There was no dialogue.
There was no provocation.
Only silence.
Ye Mo did not dodge.
He knew that as long as the other side hadn't discovered that he had intelligence, he hadn't lost this game yet.
He slowly raised his right hand and wiped the blood from his face, the movement as slow as a slow-motion scene in a movie.
Then, he gently pressed his blood- and ash-stained hand onto the gash in his chest.
It wasn't to stop the bleeding.
It was to suppress what was beating inside—the still-functioning heart, and the unbroken will.
The workshop remained quiet.
Only the low-frequency hum of dark energy could be heard, like some kind of ancient countdown.
Ye Mo stood still, motionless.
Emma Frost lay behind her, unconscious.
Malekith stood in the center, unaware.
Time keeps moving forward.