Ye Mo's palms were still pressed against the scorching ground, and the vitrified rock surface on the slope, scorched by the flames, was gradually cooling down. He could feel the wound below his left chest twitching, as if a red-hot wire was pulling back and forth inside. The blood had stopped gushing out, but every breath felt like someone was rubbing sandpaper against his lungs.
Above them, the high rock resembled a smoldering lump of coal. Ronan stood motionless atop it, his scepter embedded deep within the rock, purple light creeping down the cracks and casting bluish shadows. No one spoke, no one moved. Star-Lord leaned against the crooked rock to his left, his right hand dangling, his left hand clutching a grenade, his knuckles white. Rocket lay at his feet, his claws still fiddling with his shoulder cannon, his tail twitching as if it were cramping, the battery pack coiled around it. Gamora stood on the right flank, the bloodstains on her forearms scabbed over, but she didn't wipe them away, her eyes fixed on the high rock. Groot crouched in front, the main trunk's crack not yet fully healed, a new branch quietly reaching towards the ground beneath Ronan's feet.
Ye Mo took a breath and took off his glasses. The edges of the lenses were dusty, so he wiped them clean and put them back on. This action caused a sharp pain in his chest, making him wince.
"System," he shouted in his mind, "Activate the third layer, the Self-Healing module."
[WARNING: Releasing the Healing Factor requires double the consumption. Current vital signs are at 61%. Execution will reduce the current level to a dangerous threshold.]
"Enough talk, start it."
He braced himself with his right hand on the ground, slowly moving to the center of the triangle area, kneeling on his left knee, and pressing his left hand against the wound. His consciousness sank in, and the third level of the Gene Spiral Tower lit up— Wade's Self-Healing fragments and Shadowcat's cell Regeneration program were mixed together, like a newly assembled old circuit board, flashing an unstable golden light.
"Keep calm..."
His palms began to heat up, not with the scorching heat of flames, but like the warmth of a sun-baked stone, gentle and full of life. A pale golden halo emanated from his palms, spreading across the ground like a thin mist.
The first ray of light swept across Groot.
The crack in his trunk suddenly contracted, the wood fibers rustling, and tender buds sprouted from the broken end. Two thick branches that had been blown away forked off and slowly curled back. Groot groaned, and the tree straightened up a bit, the new branches swaying gently toward Ye Mo.
Next up is Star-Lord.
His right shoulder snapped back into place with a "click." His muscles twitched a few times before relaxing completely. He looked down at his hand, clenched his fist, then released it, his brow unfurrowing.
"Damn, that actually works." He muttered to himself, casually stuffing the EMP grenade back into his belt.
Guangliu continued walking, climbing onto the Rocket's shoulder. The charred skin beside the wreckage of the shoulder cannon had faded, revealing pink new flesh. He paused for a moment, glanced down at the wound, then looked up at Ye Mo, his expression changing.
"How long have you been hiding this trick?" His voice trembled slightly.
Ye Mo ignored him and gritted her teeth, pushing the light even further away.
Gamora's left forearm wound began to close, and the blood stopped seeping from the edge of her combat suit. She moved her wrist, her fingertips tracing the scabbed area, her eyes turning cold, but with something else in them.
The five of them remained seated in the same position, but their breathing gradually synchronized. The feeling of each person fighting their own battles and on the verge of falling apart was gradually suppressed.
Ye Mo withdrew his hand, and the golden light dissipated.
His face turned deathly pale, cold sweat streamed down his forehead, soaking the back of his hoodie. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest, and his ears were ringing. He sat down against a pebble, his fingers digging into his palms, managing to keep himself from collapsing.
"Being alive is half the battle won." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding iron; it wasn't loud, but everyone heard it.
Rocket lowered his head to inspect the shoulder cannon. The newly installed cooling module beeped, indicating that the self-test had passed. He patted the outer shell. "Fixed. Just need to replace the shell."
Star-Lord stood up, swung his right arm, and grinned. "Next time I'll dodge faster, so I won't cause you any trouble."
Gamora a half step forward, her hands empty, and glanced at the three of them. "We didn't lose."
Groot lifted a new branch and gently placed it on Ye Mo's shoulder, whispering, "We are Groot."
The translation machine didn't ring, but everyone knew what he was saying.
--We are one.
Ye Mo looked up at him, smiled, and there was still bloodstain at the corner of her eye.
The purple light on the high cliff continued to rise, and Ronan remained standing, like a statue. But now no one was staring at him anymore. The five people's eyes met in the air; they didn't speak, but the meaning was clear.
The injuries were real, the pain was real, but no one wanted to back down.
Ye Mo touched his chest; the wound had closed, but it still ached faintly, like a nail was stuck in it. He looked down at his palm; the spot that had glowed was a little hot, and there seemed to be a warm current flowing under his skin. He knew this state couldn't last long; Self-Healing and externalizing were too costly. The system notification didn't sound again, but the string in his mind remained taut.
He took his glasses off again and wiped the lenses with his sleeve. The movement was slow, as if he was finding his rhythm. After wiping them, he put them back on, and his vision was clear.
"You lot," he began, his voice still hoarse, "Don't wait until I'm completely dead before you make your move."
Rocket rolled his eyes. "You think you're the savior? I was fixing cannons when you were still wearing diapers."
"But I can heal you now," Ye Mo said. "That last attack will keep you alive for three minutes."
"Three minutes is enough for me to blow him to pieces." Rocket spat and tightened the shoulder cannon bolts.
Star-Lord stretched his shoulders, picked up his twin pistols from the floor, and checked the magazines. "Hey, shouldn't we start thinking about how to wrap this up? We can't just sit here putting on a sentimental show until dawn."
"Didn't you just say you wouldn't cause me any trouble?" Ye Mo glanced at him sideways.
"That's just being polite." Star-Lord grinned. "When I'm being polite, I'm usually lying."
Gamora didn't reply, but took half a step forward and stood to Ye Mo's right rear. This position would both cover him and allow her to rush out immediately. Her hands hung at her sides, her fingertips slightly spread, ready to draw her dagger at any moment.
Groot's roots had been reburied in the ground, and a thin branch climbed up the rock crevice, only two meters away from Ronan's feet. The cracks on his trunk had mostly healed, and the new branches were thicker and darker in color than before.
Ye Mo leaned against the gravel and looked up at the high cliff.
The purple light grew stronger, and smoke began to rise from the surface of the rock, as if it were being ignited from within. He knew Ronan was charging up, and the next attack would not be a probe, nor would it leave any room for retreat.
But he's not panicking now.
That wave of treatment just now wasn't just about healing injuries. He could feel that his teammates' breathing, heartbeats, and movement frequencies were all subtly synchronized with his. It wasn't Telepathy or directly reading minds; it was more like... a group of people groping in the dark, finally finding the same rope.
He moved his fingers, and a faint golden light appeared in his palm again. It didn't emanate outwards; it just circled under his skin and then went out.
"System," he asked in his mind, "How many more rounds can it last?"
[ Healing Factor reserves: 37%, maximum number of times it can be released: 1, duration not exceeding 9 seconds]
"That's enough," he said.
The Rocket suddenly hissed and looked down at the shoulder cannon display, "Energy restored to 72%, cooling normal, spare ammunition box still in the backpack."
"Then why were you shaking just now?" Ye Mo asked.
"It's cold." Rocket glared at him. "It's windy here."
"Your skin is thicker than armor," Star-Lord laughed.
Gamora suddenly raised her hand and made a "quiet" gesture.
Everyone stopped.
The purple light on the high rock suddenly trembled, as if a heart had skipped a beat.
Ronan moved.
He didn't turn around, nor did he raise the hammer; he simply tapped the scepter lightly twice with his fingers.
Thump, thump.
The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear on the deathly silent battlefield.
Ye Mo held his breath, his hands on the ground. He knew that the other party was testing their rhythm, waiting for them to make a mistake.
But they didn't panic.
Star-Lord slowly chambered his dual pistols, his movements so quiet that the clanging of metal was barely audible.
The Rocket switched its shoulder cannon to burst mode, its tail coiled around the battery pack, and slowly moved forward.
Gamora her feet apart, lowered her center of gravity, and resembled a cheetah ready to pounce.
Groot's new shoots rest above the rock crevice, their roots quietly extending underground.
Ye Mo sat in the middle, neither standing up nor closing his eyes. He simply took off his glasses, put them in his breast pocket, and then wiped his face with the back of his hand.
Blood, ash, and sweat were mixed together; after wiping it off, my face was a little cleaner.
"You all remember what you're supposed to do, right?" he asked in a low voice.
Star-Lord nodded.
The Rocket raised its middle finger.
Gamora blinked.
Groot gently shook the branch.
Ye Mo smiled and placed his hand back on the ground.
He knew the next attack was coming, and he knew he might not be able to stop it.
But he's not alone anymore.
The five people huddled in the triangular area where the lava fields met; their injuries had been healed, and their strength had returned.
No one shouted slogans, no one expressed their determination, but everyone understood—
As long as we're still standing, we have to keep fighting.
The purple light on the high rock surged again, like a star about to explode.
Ye Mo raised his head and stared at the ball of light.
His palms were slightly warm, as if in response to something.
In the distance, a thin branch of Groot silently pierced the rock beneath Ronan's feet.