The marks of the ground collapsing outside the ventilation shaft were still there. Ye Mo stared at them for three seconds, then turned and left.
He neither gave chase nor called anyone. Chasing now would only hand over the initiative; the other side wanted him to act rashly. He knew better than anyone that the enemy had left those marks not to hide, but for him to see.
But he didn't want to follow someone else's script.
Back in the main control area, he casually tossed his jacket onto a chair and sat on a training mat in the meditation area. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes. The images of those "puppets," their muscles contracting just before they attacked, surfaced again, replaying over and over.
Too fast.
No matter how fast they were, they were still human, and humans had a delay. But could his body's reactions get any faster? When he phased through a wall, was there a gap between his cells breaking down and reassembling? If an enemy's attack landed at precisely that point, would he have to take the hit in full?
As the thought arose, a soft ding sounded in his mind.
[High-intensity residual mutant energy detected. Conditions met to unlock floor 7 of the Gene Spiral Tower]
The system's voice was faint, like someone saying "Dinner's ready" beside his ear. No light effects, no vibrations. Only he knew.
He had picked up the Steel Bone ability fragment at the Wakandan border last time. That day, he had been chasing a mercenary who stole Vibranium when he stumbled onto an experimental accident-an alloy laboratory had collapsed, and a researcher inside had used his ability before dying, turning his entire body to metal to hold up the ceiling and buy the others time to escape. By the time Ye Mo arrived, the man was already dead, but the residual energy at the scene had been enough for him to absorb a complete gene fragment.
Regenerative Phasing was a combination technique he had worked out himself, forcibly cobbling together Wade's Self-Healing and Shadowcat's Wall Phasing. Using it too much took a toll on his body. Every time he finished phasing, he felt an itch deep between his bones, as though his cells had been ripped apart and pieced back together.
Now the system was telling him these two fragments could fuse, and his first reaction was: Am I trying to get myself killed?
One added material to his body, while the other dismantled parts inside it. They didn't fit together at all.
But he still sank into his consciousness space.
Everything before him was pitch-black. A spiral tower floated in the middle, twenty floors tall, with a narrow slit of light newly illuminated on the seventh floor. Two streams of energy were fighting inside. One was silver-gray, twisting like a tangled ball of wire, representing Steel Bone; the other was translucent blue, constantly splitting and coming back together-Regenerative Phasing.
He reached out and grabbed them, pulling both streams over.
The instant they touched, it felt as though a nail had stabbed into his brain. The pain nearly made him open his eyes.
Metalization hardened his body, while regeneration made his cells divide at high speed. One needed stability, the other movement; their principles clashed. Forcing them together didn't make the system report an error, but his body couldn't take it.
On his first attempt, he let Steel Bone go first, metalizing his entire body starting from the skin. Barely halfway through, the regeneration mechanism activated, and his cells began breaking down to prepare for Wall Phasing-the metal structure fell apart, like reinforced concrete being torn up by an excavator before it had set.
Failure.
The second time, he reversed the order, activating Regenerative Phasing first, putting his body into a state of disassembly, then pouring Steel Bone's energy into it. But his cells were coming apart, leaving the metal particles nothing to attach to. They all leaked away, leaving only a few hard spots under his skin, as though he had developed stones.
Another failure.
The third time, he tried doing it in sections. He first metalized a local layer on his left arm, keeping its thickness to 0.1 millimeters, then immediately activated regeneration, letting his cells pass through the gaps in the metal layer. This time it didn't collapse, but it was too slow. Phasing through a wall took three seconds; in actual combat, he would have been riddled with holes long before then.
No good.
He opened his eyes and took a breath. Sweat covered his forehead.
Again.
On his fourth attempt, he changed his approach. Instead of thinking about which came first, he made both abilities operate in sync. He knew Regenerative Phasing's breakdown frequency: one pulse every 0.03 seconds. He made Steel Bone's energy follow that rhythm, seeping into the gaps between his cells wave after wave.
Like applying paint.
Apply one coat, wait for the cells to move, then apply the next.
Within his consciousness, the slit of light on the seventh floor suddenly widened.
Silver-gray and blue light intertwined, no longer fighting but winding around each other like two snakes. Metal fibers spread along the paths of cellular movement, forming a skeletal network, while regenerative power flowed between its supports, maintaining vitality.
Success.
His eyes snapped open.
He drew a breath up from his dantian, and his whole body felt electrified. As he raised his arm, a layer of matte gray instantly appeared on his skin-not covering it completely, but emerging in fine patterns along the contours of his muscles, like traces on a circuit board.
He lowered his head to look at the back of his hand.
He spread his fingers, then clenched his fist.
There was no stiffness, nor the exhaustion that used to follow Wall Phasing. Instead, he felt stronger, his pulse steadier, even his breathing deeper than usual.
This thing... works.
He stood and loosened his shoulders and neck on the spot. His neck cracked as he turned it. As he bent at the waist, his vertebrae shifted one after another. Kicks, arm swings, jumps in place-every movement was smoother than before, as though he had been fitted with new parts.
Before, he had needed to gather his energy ahead of time to phase through a wall. Now, a mere thought made patches of his skin begin metalizing while the gaps between his cells automatically expanded, without even a transition.
He raised his hand and reached toward the wall.
The instant his fingertips touched its surface, the wall parted like water. His arm slid straight inside, all the way to his shoulder. There was no heat or stinging throughout the process, and even his clothes remained intact.
He pulled it out and checked. His hand was completely unharmed, without so much as a hair missing.
"Holy shit," he said quietly. "I'm really a drill now."
He tried again, faster this time.
He pushed his hand forward, and his entire body passed through the wall, leaving him standing on the other side. His feet made no sound as he landed; even the floor didn't vibrate.
At least two seconds faster than before.
The key was stability. Previously, he needed three seconds to recover after phasing. Now he could move straight into his next action.
He grinned.
This ability needed a name.
"Alloy Phasing" was too serious, while "Living Drill" was too chuuni.
"How about... Iron Straight Man?"
The moment he finished speaking, the system sounded in his mind again.
[Floor 7 of the Gene Spiral Tower activated. New path unlocked]
No reward, no prompt, just a plain statement of confirmation.
He didn't care for those anyway.
The truly good stuff never wasted words.
Standing at the entrance to the training area, he raised his wrist and checked his watch.
It was still early.
Emma Frost was probably still processing the signal fragments, and everyone else was busy with their own work. Nobody knew he had just pulled off a major upgrade.
Just as well.
Some things were better known by as few people as possible.
He flexed his wrist, metal patterns flickering beneath his skin.
Next, he needed to test just how tough this new thing was.
Should he blast it with a turret, or just ram into a wall?
After some thought, he decided to start with a basic test.
He walked up to the training area's protective wall, took a deep breath, and drew his right fist back beside his waist.
His muscles tensed, and a gray-white metallic film instantly covered his skin, making the surface of his fist hard and smooth.
He threw a punch.
Bang!
With a dull thud, a section of the wall caved in, cracks spreading like a spiderweb. His fist tingled, but it wasn't injured.
He withdrew his hand. The metal layer automatically receded, and his skin returned to normal.
"Good."
He shook out his hand and headed deeper into the training area.
An old pressure-testing machine stood in the corner, a castoff from S.H.I.E.L.D., but its accuracy was still intact. He slapped the switch, and the screen lit up blue.
He reached out and pressed his hand against it.
The numbers fluctuated a few times, then stopped.
Instantaneous output force: 8.7 tons
He raised an eyebrow.
His last reading had been 5.2 tons.
An increase of nearly three tons.
And that was only his fist. What if he metalized his entire body at once?
As he was considering it, he suddenly felt a twitch in the fingertips of his right hand.
Looking down, he saw a small metallic patch appear on the outer side of his little finger. It had emerged on its own, without his permission.
He frowned.
Was this... a warning sign of losing control?
Or was the fusion still incomplete?
He tried concentrating, sinking his awareness inward and tracing along his nerves.
The patch slowly faded.
Whew.
Good.
It looked like he still needed practice.
A few more attempts, and he would figure out the limits.
He took off his sweatshirt, leaving only a tank top, and stood in the center of the training area.
His surroundings were quiet, with only the low hum of machines on standby.
He closed his eyes and sank back into his body's rhythm.
His breathing slowed, his heartbeat adjusted its frequency, and his muscle memory recalibrated.
This time, he would make every act of phasing as natural as blinking.
He would make the force of every punch land right at the edge of the material's limits.
He raised his hand, aiming at the air ahead.
His skin began turning gray.