Ye Mo leaned against the wall, the heat in his palms still lingering, as if he had just held a piece of metal removed from an engine. His eyes were closed, his consciousness still connected to that thin Scanning Wave; nothing within forty meters could escape its notice—even a cockroach crawling across a crack, he would know which way it would turn.
But this time, there was nothing.
"The vibration in the east-side duct is due to the ventilation system restarting." He suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but loud enough for the entire control room to hear. "I just checked it three times; no vital signs, purely mechanical resonance. We can breathe a sigh of relief."
No one responded immediately. The silence was like the aftermath of a battle, making people afraid to move. Bucky leaned against the entrance to the east passage, his fingers still on the grip of his gun; Black Widow sat below the observation window on the high point, her sniper rifle held across her lap, her eyes still scanning the blind spots of the surveillance cameras; Captain America stood in front of the control panel, his hand hovering over the red light switch, hesitant to press it.
Emma Frost let out a soft breath and rubbed her temples. " The Mental Network has dissipated, and the last afterimage has vanished. They really ran away; it wasn't a feigned retreat."
Captain America then pressed the button.
With a soft "beep," the red warning lights overhead went out, and white light slowly appeared, as if someone had torn a hole in the night, letting in a touch of daylight. The tense, almost sickening atmosphere in the base finally began to ease.
Bucky's shoulders slumped, and he slid half an inch down the wall. The mechanical arm interface emitted a slight "hum," like a exhausted motor finally being de-energized. Black Widow lowered her gun, leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes for three seconds, and when she opened them again, a slight smile played on her lips, "Hey Ye Mo, that location you gave just now was more accurate than the navigation in my earpiece. Can you teach me how I got a radar head?"
"No." Ye Mo opened his eyes, casually took off his silver half-rimmed glasses, and wiped the lenses with his hoodie sleeve. "This is innate talent; it can't be cultivated. Besides, if I could really teach, I would have already started a class and taken on apprentices. Why would I be here eating dust with you?"
"You still want to take on apprentices?" Black Widow laughed. "That ' Group Healing ' session last time almost landed me in the ICU. If you really want to open classes, the enrollment brochure should say 'Money back guarantee if you don't learn, no compensation if someone dies.'"
Emma Frost, sitting next to her, heard this and gently touched Ye Mo's arm. "At least you know that being thick-skinned means you're tough."
"That's right." Ye Mo put his glasses back on and grinned. "Otherwise, we would have been wiped out in the third wave of the attack."
A few laughs finally broke the silence among them, not loud, but enough to gently loosen the tension that had been building up. Captain America walked over and sat down on the empty box next to Ye Mo, saying nothing but nodding. This gesture was more genuine than any praise—he knew how long Ye Mo had held out, and he knew that move was no joke.
"Speaking of which," Bucky suddenly spoke, his voice lower, "When you rushed out to block the EMP... did you really slip?"
"Of course." Ye Mo remained expressionless. "I'm a normal person, who would jump into a pile of explosions for no reason? That's called a tactical imbalance, understand?"
"Oh, a tactical misbalance," Black Widow drawled. "Next time I fall on a mission, I'll report it to Nick Fury as a tactical slump."
"Whatever." Ye Mo shrugged. "Anyway, I'm the kind of person who, if I'm lucky, can even manage a heroic fall."
Emma Frost scoffed, "Your posture makes you look more like a stray dog that's been kicked."
"Hey, don't say that." Ye Mo pretended to touch his chest. "I'm Mr. X, after all; I still need to maintain my image."
" Mr. X (lying down)." Black Widow added insult to injury.
Even Captain America couldn't help but chuckle. Bucky rubbed his chin, unable to suppress a smile. Emma Frost looked at Ye Mo's "I'm the only one who's sober in a world of drunks" expression, shook her head slightly, and then reached out to hand him a bottle of water.
Ye Mo took it, but didn't drink it; he placed it at his feet.
"Are you still holding back your strength?" Emma Frost asked.
"It's not that I'm holding back, it's that I'm being careful." He flexed his wrists; his palms were still a little hot, but better than before. "Give me another half hour, and the scanning power will recover to 70%. That should be enough."
"No need," Captain America said, his voice steady. "You rest. The shifts will proceed as planned. Bucky and Natasha will cover for two hours, then Emma Frost and I will take turns."
"Okay." Ye Mo didn't argue, "But my hearing is still sharp; I'll still shout if there's any noise."
"Then shout." Captain America stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "You've held out long enough. Now it's our turn to keep an eye on things."
After he finished speaking, he walked to the water dispenser, filled a glass with water, and came back to hand it to Ye Mo. This time, Ye Mo didn't refuse. He took it and drank a small sip. The water was a bit cold, but it slid down his throat, relieving the stuffy feeling in his chest.
The control room quieted down, but it was no longer the spine-chilling silence. The equipment was still running, the fans were spinning, and Emma Frost occasionally tapped the keyboard, recording the final data. Black Widow disassembled half of her sniper rifle and slowly cleaned the parts; Bucky sat against the wall, the small light on the interface of his robotic arm flashing, indicating it was entering energy-saving mode; Captain America stood in front of the monitor, his gaze sweeping across the various passages to confirm the barrier was stable.
Ye Mo leaned against the wall, his head tilted back, and his eyes closed again. He wasn't sleeping, but letting his mind rest. The battle just now had been too intense, and his nerves had been on edge the whole time. Now that things were suddenly relaxed, he felt a little uncomfortable. He could feel Emma Frost's Mental Network still floating above his head, not fully closed, like a transparent veil gently covering the entire area.
"Are you still driving it?" he asked in a low voice.
"It's not off." Emma Frost's voice was also low. "Just in case, we habitually maintain the lowest scan level."
"I understand." He nodded. "I'm using this Scanning Wave sparingly, like putting a phone in power-saving mode—I'm using it for as long as it lasts."
"Stop trying to outdo each other in dedication," Black Widow said without looking up. "It'll be dawn in two hours. The entire base will be doing automated inspections then. The little bit of electricity you save will be enough to charge a flashlight for five seconds."
"That's still five seconds," Ye Mo muttered. "If you conserve time, you'll live longer."
Bucky chuckled. "Following your logic, I'll walk on tiptoe from now on to save wear and tear on my shoes."
"Wise." Ye Mo nodded seriously, "I suggest you calculate the energy consumption of each step, create an energy-saving ranking, and apply for a Guinness World Record."
"Okay." Bucky looked up. "You're definitely the Champion. After all, even your breathing sounds like you're counting calories."
The group laughed again. This time, the laughter was more relaxed, carrying a hint of weariness and genuine relief from their ordeal.
Ye Mo didn't reply. He simply finished the rest of the water, crushed the empty bottle, and tossed it into the recycling bin at his feet with a crisp, clean clatter.
He looked up at the ceiling; the white light was a little dazzling, but he didn't look away. He knew this light meant safety, meant the enemy was really gone, meant they had survived another battle.
Although he knew that new troubles were on the way.
Although he knew this peace wouldn't last long.
But now, at this moment, they are alive, standing, still able to joke, still able to tease each other, still able to sit together and listen to each other breathe.
That's enough.
Captain America didn't give any more orders or move around. He just stood by the control panel, one hand resting on the edge of the shield, his gaze fixed on the monitor screen. On the screen, all the passages were green, the barriers were intact, and all vital signs were stable.
Emma Frost leaned gently towards Ye Mo, her shoulder almost touching the sleeve of his hoodie. She didn't speak, just closed her eyes, her breathing gradually becoming even.
Ye Mo didn't move, nor did he look at her.
He simply raised his hand and touched his palm.
The heat was finally dissipating.