Around six in the morning, the wind among the ruins still carried a chill. Ye Mo leaned against the broken wall, a faint arc of electricity flickering at his fingertips, like a lighter running out of power. Bucky stood in the middle of the street, his metal arm slowly rising, the long blade aimed at the three of them, his shoulder armor fully deployed, emitting a wisp of pale blue steam.
Just then, the faint sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance.
Bucky's metallic eyes narrowed slightly, and he turned his head halfway around, as if receiving some signal. He didn't attack again, but suddenly turned around, leaped onto the collapsed billboard support next to him, and used the momentum to propel himself towards the broken bridge to the east. His movements were swift and clean, and even his back view exuded mechanical precision.
"Run?" Ye Mo was taken aback, then gritted his teeth and pushed himself up. "You think this is clocking out of work?"
Ignoring the cracking of his right arm's Steel Bone and the still-vibrating buzz in his head, he took off chasing after him. Captain America, panting heavily, got up from the ground, barely managing to grip his shield with his left hand, his right shoulder almost giving way, but he still gritted his teeth and followed.
"Don't let him into the tunnel!" Steve growled, his voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding iron.
The two jumped off the broken bridge one after the other, sliding down the rusted steel frame into the entrance of the underground passage. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they heard a muffled "crack" above them—a thick alloy plate slid down from the ceiling, blocking their way.
"A mechanism?" Ye Mo looked up, squinting as he scanned his surroundings.
The airflow changed. The original damp smell from underground was replaced by a low-frequency vibration, and a tingling sensation began deep in my ears, as if someone was gently tapping the inside of my skull with a small hammer.
"Something's not right." He lowered his voice. "Don't touch the wall."
Before he could finish speaking, the ground trembled slightly.
The walls on both sides suddenly slammed inward, so fast that there was no time to react. Ye Mo instinctively lunged at Steve, and the two rolled to the center of the passage, barely avoiding being sandwiched. But before they could even stand up, all the grid lights above their heads went out, replaced by several red-flashing sensors that beeped rhythmically.
"The pressure plate has been triggered." Ye Mo touched the crack in the ground. "It was destined to happen the moment we stepped in."
The next second, an electric fence rose from the ground, with blue-purple electricity leaping between the metal bars, forming a closed cage. At the same time, a transparent Force Field shield descended from the top, completely locking the entire space.
"Who designed this trap? The property management is beyond standard." Ye Mo smiled wryly, raising his hand to activate Lightning Control, but just as sparks appeared in his palm, the system notification froze: [ Lightning Control... Cooling abnormal...]
"No way?" he frowned, "Disappointing at this time?"
Steve leaned against the corner, blood seeping from his left shoulder wound again, dripping down his forearm. He stared at the power grid structure and muttered, "There's a pattern. The current weakens every three seconds; it might be a restart interval."
"Theoretically, we could break through," Ye Mo nodded. "But the problem is, even releasing an electric shock now is like a heavy smoker's urge; it depends on my mood."
He tried to gather energy, but the residual gene fragments of Storm within him seemed to be suppressed by something; the current dissipated as soon as it reached his fingertips, not even a Mars could be preserved.
"A pulse field," Steve said in a deep voice. "I've seen similar devices at S.H.I.E.L.D.., specifically designed to restrict superhuman abilities."
"So now I'm locked up in the Mutant detention center?" Ye Mo tugged at his hoodie. "I should have brought an anti-radiation bra."
Suddenly, everything outside became quiet. There were no footsteps, no machinery running, not even the wind had stopped. Only that damned low-frequency vibration, relentlessly drilling into the very bones.
Meanwhile, near the site of the battle, Emma Frost Thaddeus Ross remained leaning against a bench, her eyes closed and her face ashen. Her fingers were still twitching slightly, maintaining the last vestige of her basic defenses, but her mental energy was already depleted.
She took a deep breath, forcibly focused her consciousness, and directed her senses toward Ye Mo's location.
Her vision shifted instantly—she "saw" a dimly lit underground passage, with two metal walls flanking an electric cage in the middle, trapping Ye Mo and Steve inside. She tried to scan the structure, but found that her thought signals were distorted and bounced off by some kind of encrypted barrier as soon as they approached the Force Field shield.
"Uh..." she groaned, her temples throbbing, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.
But she didn't stop. She pushed her consciousness again, this time bypassing direct interference and using an indirect method—inferring the trap's range of influence by sensing the disturbances in the brainwaves of the surrounding civilians.
The data slowly took shape. She discovered that the device not only released inhibitory pulses, but also captured the frequency of the intruder's neural activity, dynamically tuning and suppressing it. In other words, the harder the intrusion, the stronger the countermeasure.
"Don't force it..." Her lips moved slightly, sending a weak mental signal in Morse code, "The wall is responding... Don't touch it..."
The signal was cut off halfway through. Her head felt like it was going to split open, and she could only slump back onto the bench, her fingers trembling as she gripped the edge and continued to probe little by little.
Inside the passage, Ye Mo suddenly froze.
"Just now... did someone call me?" He rubbed his temples.
"It's your imagination." Steve sat down against the wall, placing his shield across his lap. "You need rest, not to hear hallucinations."
"It wasn't a hallucination, it was a warning." Ye Mo shook his head. "I heard 'Don't touch the wall'... it sounded like Emma Frost's voice."
"That means she's still trying." Steve closed his eyes to catch his breath. "The only thing we can do now is conserve our energy and wait for reinforcements."
Ye Mo grinned. "You make it sound so easy. My system is practically an old-fashioned machine. It takes five minutes to boot up and two hours to lag."
He slowly slid down against the wall, back to back with Steve, minimizing their exposed sides. Neither of them spoke, but their ears were perked up, listening for any new sounds outside.
Three minutes later, a low, mechanical hum came from afar, like some kind of remote-controlled device starting up. The sound came from the end of the passage, beyond the corner, its location unclear.
"They're observing," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "There might even be a live stream button."
"Then don't let them have their fun." Steve opened his eyes. "Remain still to reduce energy consumption."
Ye Mo nodded, his fingers unconsciously tapping the edge of his pocket. He knew he couldn't move around recklessly now, nor could he forcefully activate his abilities, otherwise he would only accelerate his depletion.
But he knew one thing even more clearly—this trap wasn't just for imprisoning people.
It waits for you to break down, for you to make a mistake, for you to actively confront that "absolutely untouchable" wall.
Time ticked by. The pulse frequency seemed to be slowly increasing, and Ye Mo felt the system prompts in his brain becoming increasingly sluggish, even the most basic cooling timer was not fully displayed.
[ Lightning Control... Cooling down...]
[ Self-Healing module... response delay...]
[System interaction... restricted...]
"This is it," he muttered. "If this keeps up, I'll even forget who installed the system."
Steve didn't reply, but simply pressed his hand to the wound on his left shoulder, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. His breathing gradually became steady, as if he was controlling the pain while also calculating something.
Suddenly, Ye Mo noticed that the electric pole to his right had shifted slightly—not because it was malfunctioning, but because its angle had been remotely adjusted.
"They're calibrating," he said. "Maybe preparing for the next step."
"Like an electric shock test?" Steve sneered.
"Or worse," Ye Mo, staring at the pillar, "Like luring us to touch it."
The two fell silent. The air grew even more stuffy, and the low-frequency vibrations had seeped into their limbs and bones, like countless fine needles wriggling under their skin.
Emma Frost attempted to connect again. This time, she changed her strategy, no longer directly probing the core of the trap, but instead using residual brainwave data from the city's public surveillance to reverse-engineer the device's logic.
The images flashed intermittently: the Force Field shield's energy source came from underground cables, but the main control node was not local; the pulse pattern was highly similar to a military-grade mind jammer; most importantly, it had a learning function and would automatically upgrade the blockade intensity based on the trapped person's behavior habits.
"We can't force our way through..." she weakly signaled again, "A cyclical trap... they'll copy your reaction patterns..."
The signal was interrupted again. Blood seeped from her nose, and she was almost completely exhausted.
Inside the cage, Ye Mo felt the fragmented impact of that information, as if someone had inserted a piece of garbled audio into his brain.
"A learning... trap?" he murmured. "So the more you struggle, the faster you die?"
Steve nodded slowly. "A classic case of luring and trapping. They're not in a hurry to make a move; they're just waiting for us to make a mistake."
"Then let's just sit here and not move," Ye Mo said with a smirk, "And see who can endure it longer."
But he knew it was just a delaying tactic.
The machines outside continued to hum, their rhythm steady, like some kind of countdown.
The lights inside the cage flickered, and the electric current in the grid changed strength. Ye Mo looked at his hands; the temperature of the Vibranium fragment in his palm had risen slightly, but the system showed no reaction.
He tried calling the system again.
[system.]
[Are you there?]
[Give me some response, dear dad.]
There was no response. Only that damned low-frequency vibration, relentlessly drilling into my bones.
He and Steve remained back to back, their posture unchanged, their breathing slowed, but their eyes remained fixed on the electric fence and the door from which there was no exit.
In the distance, the sound of machinery whirring began again, this time even closer than before.