Ye Mo's right hand was still burning hot, as if it had just been pulled from a high-voltage electrical box. He didn't move, nor dared to, but slowly pressed his left hand against his ribs, where a throbbing pain throbbed, as if a wire was pulling back and forth inside. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, his pupils had shrunk to pinpoints—the energy signal in the distance hadn't changed: 80 kilometers, 3.2 times the speed of sound, a straight trajectory—it wasn't a decoy; it was truly heading this way.
He swallowed hard, swallowing the taste of blood, and then sent a compressed signal via mental link. "Direction locked, predicted landing point at the northwest rift valley entrance, seven-man formation, V-shaped charge formation. Land within three minutes, prepare for segmented interception."
This time he added frequency encryption, making it accessible only to the Guardians of the Galaxy. The signal was sent out one second, and the next second Star-Lord let out a soft click.
"The Northwest Rift Valley? There's not even a shred of cover there. They actually dared to walk right into the line of fire." Star-Lord's voice was low, but there was a hint of mockery in his tone. "Either they're stupid, or they're well-equipped."
"More likely the latter," Ye Mo replied, his voice echoing directly in his mind. " Kree standard armor comes equipped with energy shields; a head-on confrontation is unrealistic. We need to disrupt their rhythm before they land and prevent them from joining Ronan."
Rocket Raccoon, crouching behind the broken wall and tapping the connector of his electromagnetic mesh gun with a wrench, rolled his eyes upon hearing this. "Easy for you to say. My gun's almost out of battery, and you expect me to set up an ambush?"
"Isn't the spare battery tucked in your belt?" Ye Mo reminded him.
"That's Groot's nutrient solution heater!" Rocket cursed, then muttered, "Besides, that thing has unstable voltage; connecting it might cause a blowout."
"Then use it as a one-time charging module," Ye Mo said. "It only needs to last for thirty seconds. As long as it can disable the propulsion system of one target, it's a success."
Groot slowly turned his head, glanced at Rocket, and said softly, "I am Groot."
"I know you're trying to help me," Rocket glared at him, "But your thing's about to snap too; it was already oozing juice when you were wrapping it around Ronan's leg."
"He can still hold on," Gamora suddenly spoke, her voice as cold as ice. "His roots are tired but not broken, and his reaction delay is no more than 0.3 seconds. That's enough."
She moved as she spoke, sliding from her original position to the hollow on the left wing, her movement so light it barely stirred up any dust. She untied her cloak and wrapped it around her forearm, lightening the load and serving as temporary armor. She knelt on one knee, removing the carrying harness from her twin blades and wielding them with both hands, her center of gravity completely lowered.
"I'm in charge of cutting off communication," she said. "Once reinforcements land, I'll immediately advance along the central axis to prevent them from establishing tactical coordination with Ronan."
"Okay, then you'll have to wait for my signal." Ye Mo nodded. "Don't rush the attack. They'll be most panicked the moment they land, but also most alert. A hasty attack could easily lead to a counterattack."
"I'm not a newbie," Gamora replied casually.
Ye Mo didn't reply, but instead turned his attention back to the distance. The energy signal was advancing steadily, 79 kilometers, without slowing down. He gritted his teeth and activated the " Telepathy + Spatial Perception " combination technique again. His neural pathways felt like they were being sanded, and his head buzzed, but he still managed to dig out the latest data—the enemy formation was maintaining a distance of about fifteen meters, and the one in the middle, who was slightly larger, was probably the commander.
He immediately sent the information out. "The middle target has the highest priority, wearing dark gray armor, and has command insignia on its shoulders. Disable its communication module first, then destroy the command chain."
"Sounds like taking apart a router." Star-Lord snorted, but had already recalibrated his dual pistols and crouched at the edge of the high slope. He took off his headphones and tucked them into the armor's inner lining—a subtle but significant action—to stop the music and get into battle mode.
He stopped humming rock music.
Rocket looked down to inspect the shock grenades. There were three in total, all hastily assembled, with outer shells made from the aluminum casings of discarded probes, and fuses salvaged from old-fashioned pulse igniters salvaged from the spacecraft wreckage. He tested the switch on one of them; the red light flashed twice and went out. He tapped it twice more, and it lit up again.
"Damn, this piece of junk can actually make a sound?" he muttered to himself.
"As long as it makes a sound," Ye Mo said. "You and Groot ambush on the eastern slope of the rift valley. Wait until they're within fifty meters before making your move. Use shock grenades to create chaos for the first wave, and use electromagnetic net guns to lock down the two on the left flank for the second wave. Remember, don't be greedy with damage output; fire and retreat. There are only three scorched rocks for cover; rotate them."
"I know how to fight a guerrilla war," Rocket spat. "It's not like it's the first time we've been surrounded and attacked."
Groot nodded, his body slowly sinking, his roots spreading out along the ground like a spider web towards the designated area. His torso leaned slightly forward, his gaze calm, already in ambush ready.
Ye Mo glanced around and saw that the five people were adjusting their positions. No one spoke, but their formations were beginning to form an encirclement and blocking formation. Star-Lord positioned himself on the right flank high ground, providing a downward firing angle. Rocket and Groot disappeared into the shadows of the eastern slope, Gamora the left flank's advance route, and he himself remained behind the scorched rock bunker to continuously monitor the situation from the center.
"System notification: Don't act rashly before the cooldown ends." He suddenly spoke, his tone serious, "Act according to my signal, don't add your own drama."
"You're using the system as an excuse again?" Star-Lord couldn't help but laugh. "Last time you said 'the system warned you couldn't rescue people,' but you ended up rushing into the fire and carrying people out yourself."
"That time was an exception," Ye Mo said calmly. "The system has updated the emergency ethical protocol."
"Bullshit." Rocket rolled his eyes. "You're just shameless."
Ye Mo didn't refute, but simply raised his right hand, palm facing up. The cooldown progress bar for Lightning Control appeared in his mind, 61%, still slowly recovering. He didn't dare to force it to activate; last time, enduring the backlash almost made him faint on the spot. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.
He closed his eyes and scanned for the third time.
77 kilometers, speed unchanged.
The wind stopped, and the gravel belt was deathly silent, except for the humming of the purple flames on Ronan's warhammer, like some kind of countdown.
Ye Mo opened his eyes and found that Star-Lord had already set up his dual pistols, aiming the muzzles at the rift entrance. Rocket placed the last shock grenade beside him, and the charge bar of the electromagnetic net gun jumped to the green zone—clearly, he had forcibly reconnected Groot's nutrient solution heater. Groot's roots had fully expanded, covering two-thirds of the pre-set ambush zone. Gamora's breathing was steady, and her fingers gently rubbed the hilt of her knife, as if testing its feel.
"Everyone, final confirmation," Ye Mo said in a low voice. " Star-Lord, draw fire; Rocket, Groot, flank and ambush; Gamora, cut the center; I'll handle overall coordination and early warning. The objective isn't annihilation, but delay. If we can hold out for the first thirty seconds and their formation breaks down, we'll have a chance to pick them off one by one."
"Sounds like a team fight," Star-Lord muttered. "We need a support to call out enemy positions."
"I'm playing support right now," Ye Mo said, "And I haven't even bought any items yet."
"Then you'd better buy some wards quickly," Rocket sneered. "Don't wait until the enemy is right in your face before you cry for help."
Ye Mo ignored him, pressing his left hand against his injury while his right hand gathered its strength. He knew he was in poor condition, his mental strength was nearing its limit, and his injuries were worsening, but at this moment, no one could cover for him.
He has to hold on.
The distant energy signal had gotten closer, to 75 kilometers.
He closed his eyes and began intermittent sensory scans, each lasting three seconds with a five-second interval, as if he were giving his brain a shortwave recharge. Each scan brought a dull ache, but he didn't stop.
74 kilometers.
Star-Lord's finger rested on the trigger, no longer twitching.
73 kilometers.
The Rocket activated all the safety mechanisms on the shockwave mines and placed them in the most easily accessible positions.
72 kilometers.
Groot's roots trembled slightly, as if warming up.
71 kilometers.
Gamora closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, her gaze was even colder.
Ye Mo leaned against the charred rock, his eyes closed, his right palm burning even hotter. He knew that every second to come was bringing him closer to the breaking point.
He didn't move, nor did he intend to.
Until that faint metallic clanging sound came from the northwest—far away, but definitely there.
He suddenly opened his eyes, his lips moved slightly, and he uttered only two words:
"They've arrived."