Mind Control turns the tide
Ye Mo leaned against the broken wall, blood dripping from his nose down his chin and into his collar, sticky and sticky. He raised his hand to wipe it, his fingertips covered in red, and then casually wiped it on his trouser leg. His vision blurred, and his ears were ringing, as if a swarm of bees were having a party in his head. The dull pain of Regeneration crippled him, creeping from his ribs to the back of his neck, felt like someone was slowly tearing at his bones with a rusty saw.
But he can't rest.
Five people huddled back-to-back amidst the ruins, gunshots ringing out like popping beans. Beyond the breach in the east wall, Hydra agents were pushing forward with suppressed fire; the blue light of the electromagnetic grid flickered and crackled in the smoke. Captain America stood at the forefront, his shield wedged in a crack in the brickwork, Mars splattering all over his face. Bucky crouched on the west side; the overheating alarm on his mechanical arm had just gone off when the cooling fan started whirring again. Emma Frost slumped behind the control panel on the second floor, her Diamond Form flickering like a faulty fluorescent light bulb. Black Widow moved along the south side of the electrical box, her tactical knife slick with blood.
"They're on the front lines!" Black Widow growled. "Thirty degrees to the left flank, seven men with pulse rifles!"
Ye Mo closed his eyes, trying to activate his Spatial Perception, when a notification popped up in his mind. "Cooling down, unable to perform precise calculations."
"Damn it." He cursed, then opened his eyes and, relying on his memory of the terrain map, deduced, "There's a flag bearer behind the third bunker on the east wall, the one in the gray uniform—that's the commander!"
Before the words were even finished, Captain America had already hurled his shield. The Vibranium disc traced an arc, slicing through iron like butter, and with a snap, severed the communication antenna at its base. The electromagnetic grid jolted violently, and the blue light went out for half a second.
Now!
Emma Frost gritted her teeth, dug her fingers into her temples, compressed her mental energy into a cone-shaped pulse, and thrust it out forcefully. The hound equipment was still scanning, but she gambled that she could slip through in that 0.8-second gap. Her consciousness, like a steel needle, pierced the cerebral cortex of the six frontline commanders, instantly implanting the hallucinatory command—"Eliminate the traitors."
The next second, the battlefield exploded.
The group of agents on the left suddenly turned their guns on their own men and fired a burst. The two on the right, who had just set up their heavy machine guns, turned and started spraying bullets at each other. The commander in the middle even pulled out a grenade and threw it at his colleague's feet, shouting, "You've been infiltrated!"
"What the hell?" Ye Mo's eyes widened. "She actually dared to go up there?"
Chaos spread like boiling water poured into an anthill. The once orderly three-pronged encirclement formation was thrown into disarray. Some stood frozen in place, bewildered; some looked around, guns raised, questioning their existence; and some crouched down, heads in their hands, shouting, "Don't kill me! I'm innocent!"
"Catch your breath!" Ye Mo wiped his face, his voice hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. "Don't let them recover!"
He forced himself to stand upright; his vision was still blurry, but his mind was racing. The enemy's left flank had completely collapsed due to the commanders exchanging fire, and the remaining men were huddled together, none daring to make a move. He immediately yelled at the top of his lungs, "They've gone mad! Don't come any closer! It's contagious!"
That shout was like pouring water into a pot of boiling oil. Black Widow immediately threw out two flashbangs, which exploded twice in the middle of the crowd. The bright light flashed, screams erupted, some people covered their eyes and retreated, some people frantically fired and hit their teammates, and a stampede followed. One agent was pushed to the ground, and before he could get up, he was trampled by three or four pairs of feet and lay motionless on the spot.
"Now's the time!" Captain America roared, grabbing the Vibranium Shield and charging into the enemy ranks.
Bucky followed closely behind, his robotic arm deploying an alloy shield, forcefully pushing forward against the bullets. The two of them, like a pair of scissors, plunged straight into the enemy heavy weapons team. Bucky elbowed the one holding the Rocket, Captain America kicked the ammunition box lid off, sending the propellant canisters rolling out, hissing and emitting white smoke.
Black Widow circled behind them using the smoke, and with a flick of her dagger, the ammunition box's securing strap snapped. She sneered, "Here's a gift for you."
Boom!
The blast wave knocked three people over, and flames shot into the sky. Debris flew a long way, blocking half of the passage on the right.
Ye Mo seized the opportunity, activating "Regenerative Phasing" by manipulating gene fragments. His body went limp, instantly becoming semi-transparent, and he passed directly through a half-broken wall, appearing behind a machine gun emplacement. Two gunners were busy changing their ammunition belts, completely unprepared for what was happening behind their heads. Without a word, he grabbed them by the neck with each hand and slammed them together, knocking them unconscious on the spot. Then he removed the magazines, pulled out the gas tubes, and inserted them into the trigger guards, rendering the two machine guns unusable.
"Both firing positions cleared!" He leaned against the wall, catching his breath, the pain from the Regeneration surging up again. "System, you said I could use it three times? You're kidding me."
Emma Frost couldn't hold on any longer. Her Diamond Form completely dissipated, and she knelt on the ground, her face as white as paper. She had to brace herself with her hands to keep from collapsing. Exhausting one's mental energy is no joke; that wave of mind control had almost drained her brain dry.
"I... can't go on anymore for the time being." Her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum.
"That's enough." Ye Mo grinned. "That stroke of genius just now was enough to give them a run for their money."
That's enough.
The once formidable three-pronged encirclement has now crumbled on the left flank, the right flank has been bombed, and the central command system has collapsed. The remaining agents are either crouching with their heads in their hands or have begun to retreat. Some tried to reorganize their formation, but as soon as they raised their guns, their comrades next to them cried out in terror, "Are you being controlled too?" and then they were shot in the head.
Morale is something that, once it collapses, can never be recovered.
Captain America stood at the front of the main passage, shield in hand, his gaze sweeping over the retreating enemies. He didn't pursue, nor did he order an expansion of the victory; instead, he quickly assessed the situation. Bucky slid to the western gap, his robotic arm cooled down, the blue light stabilized, and he locked onto two fleeing agents, ready to strike at any moment. Black Widow crouched beside the southern electrical box, disassembling a captured communication module, trying to find the signal source and trace its path.
"They're running away," Black Widow said, looking up.
"Don't pursue," Captain America said in a deep voice. "First, secure the position and confirm there are no ambushes."
Ye Mo leaned against the edge of the ruins, still clutching the metal piece from the mirror temple, hot enough to fry an egg. He stared into the depths of the passage, his breathing slowly calming down. The nosebleed had finally stopped, but his head still felt incredibly heavy. That counterattack just now was brilliant, but also incredibly risky. If Emma Frost had acted half a second later, or if Captain America hadn't cut the antenna, they might be the ones lying on the ground right now.
But things are different now.
The enemy switched from offense to defense, their formation crumbled, and their morale collapsed. Although everyone on their side was wounded, they could still move and fight. The initiative had shifted to them without them even realizing it.
"Finally, it's our turn to be directors," Ye Mo said softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.
Emma Frost tried to stand up, struggling twice before she could barely hold onto the control panel. She glanced at Ye Mo, her eyes slightly unfocused, but still nodded. That move just now was incredibly risky; the hound equipment could have swept back at any moment, yet she had won the gamble. It wasn't because she was particularly strong, but because Ye Mo had called out that exact moment, allowing Captain America to sever the antenna, Black Widow to create chaos, and Bucky and Captain America to withstand the direct pressure.
Five people are needed; if even one is missing, this step cannot be accomplished.
In the distance, the last few Hydra agents dragged the wounded towards the end of the corridor, their steps chaotic and haphazard. No one dared to look back, and no one dared to fire. They had lost, not because of equipment or numbers, but because of a momentary psychological collapse.
Captain America raised his left hand and made a "pause advance" gesture.
Bucky withdrew his hand, and the robotic arm entered standby mode.
Black Widow stopped dismantling the device and cautiously scanned her surroundings.
Emma Frost leaned against the control panel, closed her eyes, and began to regulate her breathing, no longer forcing herself to stay upright.
Ye Mo remained standing in the same spot, his fingers tracing the edge of the glasses temples, his gaze fixed on the gradually quieting passageway.
The battle is not over yet.
The enemy has not surrendered yet.
But they are no longer afraid.
Ye Mo took a deep breath, suppressing the exhaustion that seeped from his very bones. He knew that the crucial moment was coming—catching the traitor, eliminating the remaining enemies, and turning this moment of relief into a real victory.
He was about to speak when he suddenly realized something and frowned.
In the shadows at the end of the passage, a small piece of metal reflected light. It was tiny and faint, like a piece of equipment someone had accidentally knocked off.
He squinted, his fingers tightening.