A soft metallic clanging sound echoed through the smoke and dust, like someone flicking a gun barrel with their fingernail.
Ye Mo shifted slightly against the rock wall, his eye twitching. He knew it wasn't an illusion— the Rocket had heard the signal and responded.
He had no time to think. His head was still buzzing as if it had been shoved into a centrifuge, the dark spots at the edges of his vision hadn't faded, and his breath smelled of rust. But he knew this wasn't the time to lie there panting. Ronan's footsteps were getting closer, the sound of his warhammer scraping the ground like a dull knife scraping bone, each step sending pebbles trembling.
"If I don't move, the next hammer will be smashed in my face." He muttered to himself, wiping the corner of his mouth with his hand, the blood sticking to his fingertip.
He took a deep breath and activated the Self-Healing fragments of the third layer of the Gene Spiral Tower. A surge of heat shot up his spine, like a small motor igniting within him. The wound on his hand began to close, and the dull pain in his ribs eased slightly. Although his mental energy was still depleted, at least he could stand up.
He poked half his head out and peered through the smoke and dust.
Ronan stood ten meters away, the purple flames beneath his helmet scanning his surroundings. His warhammer was planted in the ground, as if confirming his location. The smoke was too thick, temporarily obscuring his vision, but this wouldn't last long.
Ye Mo closed his eyes, concentrated his remaining mental energy, and reactivated the " Telepathy " fragment. This time it wasn't a warning, but a tactical command.
He encoded the message into a very short frequency. "Three seconds later, focus fire on the right shoulder crevice, Star-Lord holds the front line, Rocket attacks from the side, Groot entangles the left leg, Gamora finishes off the enemy. I'll create an opening." He then set it to be transmitted in a directional manner, only accessible to members of the Guardians of the Galaxy.
After sending it, he held his breath and waited for the reaction.
One second.
Two seconds.
On a distant hill, Star-Lord's speakers suddenly blasted a rock song. "I'm a survivor, baby!"—the volume was turned up to the maximum, and the sound waves crashed directly into the battlefield.
Ronan turned his head sharply, his hearing system instantly disrupted.
Now!
Ye Mo leaped out of the pit and deliberately crushed a piece of charred rock, making a crisp "crack" sound.
"Hey! Big guy!" he yelled at Ronan, "Your armor looks intimidating, but it's really just an exoskeleton for show, isn't it? You're having trouble even changing a battery?"
Ronan roared, raised his warhammer, unleashing a surge of purple flames, and turned to charge straight at Ye Mo.
Ye Mo grinned. "Insults really do work."
Instead of retreating, he charged forward two steps, channeling his abilities as he ran. His Lightning Control was still on cooldown, so he couldn't fight head-on, but he had another combination—" Wade's Self-Healing + Shadowcat's Wall Phasing." He had tried this move before, called " Regenerative Phasing." The principle was simple: briefly put his body into a semi-ethereal state while relying on his Self-Healing ability to maintain structural stability, barely managing to " Wall Phasing without collapsing."
He rushed to within five meters of Ronan and suddenly activated his ability.
In an instant, his skin turned ashen, as if drained of all color, and he became translucent. He sidestepped and crashed through the gap between Ronan's right arm and torso!
With a muffled thud, he landed and rolled, his back hitting the rubble. A sweet taste rose in his throat, and another mouthful of blood surged up. He had successfully Wall Phasing, but at a great cost; his chest felt like it had been run over by a truck, and his bones were groaning.
But this collision wasn't for nothing—the instant he passed through, his right hand smeared across the crack in Ronan's right shoulder, channeling a wisp of electricity into the internal circuitry.
With a "sizzle," a string of sparks shot out from the gaps in the armor, and a purple flame flashed, as if there had been a short circuit.
Ronan paused, let out a low growl, and slightly bent one knee.
The opportunity has arrived!
Star-Lord seized the opportunity, firing both guns in rapid succession, all the bullets aimed at Ronan's face. Although they couldn't penetrate his helmet, the dense impacts forced him to look away.
Rocket Raccoon jumped down from the high platform on the left, carrying a modified electromagnetic net gun, cursing, "I charged it for ten minutes just for this moment!" He fired two shots, and the electric net accurately covered Ronan's left knee. The current crackled and popped, and the joint instantly went numb.
" Groot! Go!" Rocket shouted.
"I am Groot." Groot nodded, and roots rapidly spread from the ground, wrapping around Ronan's left leg and pulling him sharply backward.
Losing his balance, Ronan staggered, nearly dropping his warhammer.
Gamora was already waiting on the side. She slid in to close the distance, crossed her blades, and thrust them straight at the crack in her right shoulder!
With a clang, the Blade embedded itself in the armor, Mars flying. She used both hands to pry the crack open wider, and purple flames shot out from within, like high-pressure steam leaking out.
" Ye Mo!" she roared.
Ye Mo gritted his teeth and activated the "Lightning + Wall Phasing " fusion technique again. This time, he didn't penetrate people, but only conducted electricity. He placed his hand on the edge of the crack and forcibly poured the remaining lightning energy in his body into it.
With a "boom," the internal circuitry short-circuited completely, and the entire right arm flashed purple light wildly, like a fluorescent light with a faulty connection.
Ronan grunted, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud, only managing to stay upright by the weight of his warhammer. The purple flames flickered, smoke billowed from the gaps in his armor, and electricity crackled and hissed from the crack in his right shoulder.
"Ha... it's done?" Ye Mo panted heavily, leaning against a piece of charred rock, his legs almost giving way and he collapsed.
He raised his hand to wipe his face; blood and sweat mingled and dripped down his chin. Although he was exhausted, he couldn't help but smile, "Teamwork, it's so good."
Star-Lord jumped down from the hill, putting away his gun as he went. "Hey buddy, isn't that ' Wall Phasing ' a bit too much for you? Your face's as pale as if you've just painted a wall."
"It's nothing," Ye Mo waved his hand. "System notification: Mild concussion, rest recommended—but I choose to ignore it."
Rocket, crouching behind the broken wall, was reloading the electromagnetic magazine, panting and cursing, "Can you not make it so complicated next time? Can't you just say 'shoot on the shoulder'? Why do you have to send some encrypted signal, making it like a secret agent rendezvous?"
"We're afraid of being intercepted by Ronan," Ye Mo explained. "That guy's not stupid. If he understands, we'll all be barbecued."
Gamora over, her blade still dripping with machine oil, glanced at Ye Mo, and asked, "You can still fight?"
"We have to be able to, even if we can't." He straightened up and stretched his shoulders. "He hasn't collapsed yet, so we can't rest."
He raised his hand and quickly made three hand gestures—these were the codes they had just agreed upon in the pit: a flat left hand meant "blockade," a vertical right palm meant "alert," and a clenched fist meant "rotation."
Star-Lord immediately understood and waved to Rocket and Groot: "Fan formation! Don't let him stand up!"
The three moved swiftly. Star-Lord led the charge from the right flank, Rocket positioned his gun on the left, and Groot himself coiled around Ronan's left leg, vines still wrapped around his armor, emitting a low warning sound.
Gamora back to Ye Mo's side, and the two stood side by side, facing Ronan, who was kneeling but not falling.
The battlefield fell silent for a moment, with only the crackling sound of electricity leaking from the gaps in the armor and Ronan's deep breathing.
"He's about to restart," Ye Mo said in a low voice.
"How did you figure that out?" Gamora asked.
"The purple flames changed color, from bright purple to deep purple, indicating that the energy is recombinating. And..." He paused, "His knees are buckling, preparing to stand up."
Gamora gripped her twin blades tightly. "Then don't give him a chance."
"Wait." Ye Mo reached out to stop her. "Let him get up. If he's standing, we'll have an opening to exploit. If he's kneeling, it'll be harder to hit him."
"Are you crazy?" Rocket shouted from afar, "If we don't kill him now, are we going to wait for him to respawn at full health?"
"He's like a pressure cooker right now," Ye Mo said. "If the lid's too tight, it'll explode sooner or later. But if we gently lift it, maybe he'll leak steam first."
Star-Lord scratched his head. "So you want to... let him break down on his own?"
"Almost." Ye Mo stared at Ronan. "We just need to add a little more fuel to the fire."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ronan let out a low growl. The purple light emanating from the gaps in his armor deepened, and although the crack on his right shoulder was still smoking, the energy fluctuations were clearly increasing. He slowly raised his head, and the purple flames beneath his helmet reformed, like lightning before a storm.
"You... think... you can win like this?" His voice was hoarse, yet filled with suppressed anger.
Ye Mo didn't answer, but simply turned slightly to the side, forming an angle with Gamora.
He knew the real showdown was yet to begin.
Ronan braced himself with his hands on the ground, wielding his warhammer, and slowly stood up. Although his movements were sluggish, his aura had returned to its peak. Purple flames swirled around him, the ground began to crack, and rubble floated in the air.
Star-Lord raised his twin pistols, Rocket pulled the trigger, and Groot's vines tightened like steel cables.
Ye Mo took a deep breath, suppressing the dull pain in his chest, and stared intently at Ronan's right shoulder—the crack was still there, only now it was covered by a deeper purple light.
"One more time," he muttered to himself, "Just one more time, and I'll bring him down completely."
Gamora a low voice, "How much longer can we hold out?"
Ye Mo wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and nodded. "At least one minute. Don't let him stand up."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ronan finally stood up straight, raised his warhammer high, and condensed purple flames into a sphere, with a hissing sound of energy compression echoing in the air.
Everyone held their breath, their muscles tensed, waiting for the blow to land.
Ye Mo's fingers parted slightly, his palms burning hot—a sign that his ability was about to be triggered.
He knew that the next ten seconds would determine his life or death.