At 6:07 a. m., the first rays of dawn cast long, thin shadows across the pedestrian street, and the wind still carried the dampness of last night's rain. Ye Mo stood at the edge of the shadow cast by the scrap metal box, his right hand on his knee, panting like a dog that had been chased for three blocks. The aching sensation from his degenerated Steel Bone shot from his shoulder blades all the way to his ankles. He gritted his teeth, straightened his back, and glanced at Emma Frost and Captain America out of the corner of his eye.
The three figures remained motionless.
They stood just five meters away, hoods pulled low, their bodies motionless, yet their perfectly synchronized stance was more chilling than any charge. They were like three marionettes on the same string, even their breathing seemed to be tampered with.
"If this keeps going on," Ye Mo said in a low voice, "I won't even be able to change my pants when they're torn."
Emma Frost didn't laugh or retort. She leaned against the overturned bench, her fingertips pressing against her temples. The bloodstain on her forehead had dried, leaving a dark red mark. Her eyes never left the enemy, but Ye Mo knew she was waiting—waiting for an opening where she could safely peek out.
Right now.
Ye Mo abruptly closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into the third level of the Gene Spiral Tower. There lay a gray fragment of ability, tagged [ Telepathy - Shallow Scan], its origin unknown, probably picked up during the aftermath of Emma Frost's battle. He had never practiced it and didn't know how to use it, relying entirely on a series of operating instructions forcibly inserted into his brain by the system.
He followed the path in his memory, his mind like a needle, piercing the enemy directly in front of him.
One second it was pitch black, the next his consciousness crashed into a gray-white tunnel. The walls seemed to be made up of countless distorted data streams, and at the end, a scarlet light curtain suddenly rose up, like a red-hot iron gate, and slammed directly into his face.
"Buzz--"
His head throbbed with pain, and his ears were filled with the sound of rushing blood. He tasted rust, and when he touched it, a trickle of bright red blood hung from his nostril.
Open your eyes.
The enemy remained standing, hood still, but Ye Mo was certain that the dark red markings on the enemy's neck flashed, becoming half a degree brighter than before.
"There's something there." He wiped away the blood, his voice extremely low. "Don't go any deeper; there's a trap inside."
Emma Frost's eyelids twitched. She didn't speak, but her fingers slid from her temple to behind her ear, switching to the most energy-efficient neural signal capture mode. She no longer took the initiative, but simply stayed on the edge of consciousness, like an old cat crouching at the entrance of a hole, waiting for the mouse to step on the trigger.
Captain America moved.
He braced himself with his right arm, holding the shield horizontally in front of his chest. Blood was still seeping from the bandage on his left shoulder, but he stood firm. One step, two steps, he slowly moved forward, shifting his stance slightly forward to withstand the threat from the front.
"You two, leave your backs to me," he said, his voice hoarse but not trembling.
Ye Mo grinned. "Captain, could you please change that line next time? It sounds like you're entrusting your son to someone before you sacrifice yourself."
"Shut up." Steve didn't even lift his eyelids. "Find cover."
As soon as he finished speaking, the three of them formed a triangle formation back to back. Ye Mo was in the center providing support, Emma Frost was tucked to the left rear, and Captain America was at the forefront. Beneath their feet were shattered floor tiles, charred corners of hoodies, and a few drops of still-wet hydraulic oil—not blood, but leaking from mechanical joints.
The enemy has moved.
It wasn't a charge, nor an encirclement. They began to walk, forming an equilateral triangle, advancing slowly. The rhythm of their footsteps changed; it was no longer a uniform "one, two, one," but rather staggered by half a beat, as if three people were each tapping a different metronome.
Emma Frost's pupils contracted. "The synchronization rate... has dropped."
"It's not a descent," Ye Mo, staring at the ground. "It's a deliberate disruption. They're trying to circumvent your predictions."
Sure enough, the enemy on the left suddenly lowered his body, reversed his right leg, and launched a spike from his heel, sweeping it swiftly along the ground. This move was exactly the same as the previous one, but the timing was 0.3 seconds earlier—perfectly positioned in Emma Frost's signal detection blind spot.
Ye Mo reacted quickly, instantly activating his Steel Bone State and kicking over a nearby abandoned metal box, shouting in a booming voice, "Get behind! Don't try to take the hit!"
With a crash, the metal box overturned, and the three men took a half-step back, using the cover to rebuild their defensive line. Spikes were driven into the box, Mars flying, but no one was hit.
"Interesting." Ye Mo leaned against the box, catching his breath. "They were using overwhelming numbers just now, and now they've switched to psychological warfare?"
Emma Frost didn't reply. Her hands were pressed against the surface of the metal box, her fingertips trembling slightly. She compressed her mental energy into thin lines, gliding along the outer edge of the enemy's motor nerves. This maneuver was strenuous, but safe. She dared not venture deeper now, for fear of bumping into that scarlet light barrier again.
The enemy continued to close in.
The shoulder armor on the right side suddenly cracked open, revealing a circular device with honeycomb-like holes on its surface. A buzzing sound rang out, so low as to be almost inaudible, but Ye Mo suddenly felt a tightness in his chest, as if his heart had been squeezed.
"Infrasound," he immediately realized, "Disrupting the heart rhythm."
Emma Frost's face paled, and her pupils contracted. This frequency wouldn't have much of an impact on ordinary people, but for someone in her highly focused state, it was like someone hitting her on the head with a hammer.
Captain America's hand holding the shield trembled slightly, but he didn't back down.
"They're testing us." Ye Mo stared at the launcher, his mind racing. "Movement patterns, stress tolerance, coordinated reactions... This isn't about killing; it's about collecting data."
"Who would do such a thing?" Emma Frost finally spoke, her voice weak.
"I don't know," Ye Mo shook his head, "But someone who can make this kind of thing definitely didn't buy it from a hardware store on the street."
The enemy stopped three meters away, no longer advancing. Three mechanical-like bodies stood silently, as if awaiting some command. Infrasound continued to hum, and the wind on the street swirled up a few scraps of paper, making them dance like ghosts.
Ye Mo stretched his shoulders. The Steel Bone State was on the verge of cooling down; if he forced it to activate again, his bones might actually crack. He patted his pockets; his glasses were long gone, leaving only a crumpled Vibranium fragment.
"Captain," he whispered, "I'll draw their fire, you find an opportunity to cut off their retreat."
"You're injured," Steve said.
"You're bleeding too," Ye Mo laughed. "Let's not pretend nothing's wrong."
Emma Frost suddenly raised her hand. "Wait."
Her fingertips trembled slightly as she pointed to the enemy in the middle. Dark red lines were slowly flowing across its neck, like some kind of signal being transmitted.
"They're communicating," she said. "Not remotely... it's real-time feedback."
"So," Ye Mo narrowed his eyes, "That person behind you is watching a live stream?"
Before the words were finished, the enemy in the middle suddenly raised his hand, his palm pointing at the iron box.
The buzzing of the cellular device intensified, and the infrasound frequency rose sharply. Ye Mo felt a tightness in his chest, as if his ears were filled with water, and the edges of his vision began to darken.
"Scatter!" he roared, activating his Steel Bone State for the last time, smashing through the iron box and charging towards the flank.
Captain America swung his shield, forcing back the enemy on the right; Emma Frost rolled to avoid the direct sonic wave. As soon as the three of them were out of position, the metal box dented with a "bang," as if it had been crushed by an invisible giant hand.
"Damn it." Ye Mo lay on the ground, exhaling a breath of stale air. "If this thing keeps going for two more seconds, my heart will give out."
Emma Frost leaned against a lamppost, her lips pale. She didn't try to probe any further, but stared intently at the rhythmic flow of the red lines on the enemy's neck.
Captain America knelt on one knee, his shield planted in the ground to support his body. His breathing became heavy, and blood began to seep from his left shoulder again.
The enemy did not pursue.
They regrouped, their three bodies forming an arc around each other, their steps staggered, completely breaking free from the inertia of "synchronous movement." The shoulder devices hummed continuously, and an irritating low-frequency vibration filled the air.
Ye Mo got up and wiped the dust off his face. He knew that this battle had only just begun.
They didn't come to kill anyone.
They're here to give a rating.
The evaluation form simply stated three words: Is it satisfactory?
He looked at Emma Frost, then at Captain America.
Neither of them looked away.
"Then let them give their opinions to their heart's content," he said, stretching his knuckles.
The morning breeze ruffled his charred cuffs, revealing the still-gritty, steel-gray skin beneath. In the distance, the stray cat peeked out from behind the trash can again, glanced at them, and quickly retreated.