The moment the base exploded into a fireball, Ye Mo was lying face down on the ground, his ears ringing as if a broken tractor was plowing through his brain. He moved his fingers, his fingertips brushing against the mud mixed with grass and Ashes. The gash on his right shoulder was still bleeding, throbbing with pain, like an alarm clock reminding him that he was still alive.
He didn't rush to get up. He closed his eyes, gathered his remaining spiritual energy, and gently swept his gaze around.
Tony sat three meters away, his armor visor half-open, his face streaked with black and gray, patting the energy core on his chest as he muttered, " JARVIS, give me a status update, stop playing dead."
"Main power stable, auxiliary systems restarting." A mechanical voice came from inside the armor.
Ye Mo breathed a sigh of relief; at least he hadn't collapsed on the spot.
Looking further to the left, Captain America was leaning against a half-collapsed concrete block, his shield tucked into his backpack, his tactical harness half-undone and slowly being unfastened. He was breathing heavily, but his eyes were clear. After scanning the area, he nodded slightly to Ye Mo.
Thor knelt on one knee, one hand supporting him on the ground, with Mjolnir lying beside him like an ordinary lump of iron. He took a deep breath and muttered something under his breath, so low it was barely audible, but one could feel the heaviness on his body lighten slightly. Then he stood up, turned around, and pulled Hawkeye up from the ground.
"Thanks, big guy." Hawkeye grinned, his left arm wrapped in bandages, his ears ringing, and his voice Echo.
Thor didn't say anything, but patted him on the shoulder with so much force that he almost knocked him down again.
Black Widow squatted to the side, her face tense as she inspected the equipment. Now she finally sat down against the wall, closed her eyes, and took a couple of breaths, her forehead covered in sweat. She raised her hand to wipe her face, noticed some dust on her palm, frowned slightly, but didn't move.
No one spoke.
The fire was still burning, crackling and popping, waves of heat washing over everyone, making their skin feel hot. The distant sirens wailed intermittently, presumably the arrival of S.H.I.E.L.D., but no one mentioned leaving. Everyone seemed rooted to the spot, not that they couldn't move, but they hadn't yet recovered from the feeling of "we're going to die any second now."
Ye Mo tried to move his left leg. The stiffness from the frost was still there, making walking difficult, but at least he could manage to stand up. He braced himself with his left hand and slowly pushed himself up, but he had only gotten halfway up when the wound on his right shoulder twitched, and he almost fell back down.
"Ouch—" he groaned, then gave up and sat down on the spot.
Tony glanced at him. "Your look is quite unique, all blood and molten metal, kind of like a cyberpunk wasteland style?"
Ye Mo rolled his eyes. "Your armor is practically a barbecue grill, and you still have the nerve to criticize me?"
Tony glanced down at the scorch marks on his chest and shrugged. "A classic limited edition. Will be auctioned off later; it'll hold its value."
Thor walked over and handed him a bottle of water—he didn't know where he'd pulled it from, the label was all tarnished. Ye Mo took it, unscrewed it, took a sip, and found it was lukewarm with a slightly metallic taste, but it was better than nothing.
"Thanks." He swallowed, then wiped his mouth with his hand.
Captain America walked over and stood between them. He didn't say anything, but glanced down at the slightly dried bloodstain on the ground—the very spot where Ye Mo had dripped earlier. He paused for two seconds, then suddenly raised his right hand, making a standard assembly gesture: fist clenched, forearm extended horizontally.
Ye Mo was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and raised his hand to give an OK sign.
Tony clicked his tongue. "Fine, I'll join too." He then raised his hand and made a rock-and-roll gesture.
Thor clapped his hands so hard that the nearby pebbles bounced.
Hawkeye grinned and gave a thumbs up.
Black Widow leaned against the wall, and finally raised her hand to gently tap her temple in response.
There were no cheers, no hugs, just those few gestures, but somehow it made you feel—it was over, it was all in the past.
Ye Mo leaned back against the ground, looking up at the still-smoking ruins. The firelight flickered on his glasses. He actually wanted to say something, like, "Finally, we took down that damn AI," but his throat was so dry that he opened his mouth and only coughed up a mouthful of ash.
Tony pulled out his phone; the screen was cracked in three places, but he still managed to connect to JARVIS: "Activate the Mark 45 fragment beacon and initiate air evacuation. Also, contact S.H.I.E.L.D.. and have them send a transport plane. Don't let us all sit here sunbathing."
"Instruction sent, expected to arrive within fifteen minutes," JARVIS replied.
"Okay, let's wait for the car." Tony shoved his phone back in, took off his half-torn glove, and rubbed his temples. "Next time we have a team-building activity, can we go somewhere else? Like Hawaii? Or Disney? At least don't have a meeting in front of a powder keg."
"You decide the location, I'll take care of escaping," Ye Mo said.
"Make a deal."
Everyone began packing up. Captain America checked everyone's injuries, confirming they were all superficial wounds and signs of exhaustion, with no life-threatening risks. Black Widow quickly reorganized her gear bag, stuffing several spare magazines into her inner pocket. Hawkeye leaned on Thor's shoulder, slowly moving his left arm, wincing in pain but not making a sound.
Ye Mo remained seated, his mental energy still weak. The Telepathy his teammates' status had almost made him faint. He simply closed his eyes to rest, listening to the sound of burning flames and the roar of approaching aircraft in the distance.
Ten minutes later, a S.H.I.E.L.D.. transport plane appeared on the horizon, its silver-gray fuselage cutting through the night sky as it slowly descended. The hatch opened, and two medical personnel ran out carrying boxes, but were stopped by Captain America.
"No first aid needed. Minor injuries can be treated independently. Head straight back."
The medics exchanged a glance, asked no further questions, nodded, and returned to the aircraft.
The group boarded the plane one by one. Tony walked in front, his armor making a clattering sound, as if it might fall apart at any moment. Captain America was the last to climb the ladder, glancing back at the ruins before closing the hatch.
Ye Mo is the second to last.
He stood at the tail of the plane, not rushing inside, but glancing back at the still-burning wreckage. The firelight reflected on the ground, like a distorted lake. Suddenly, he heard a system notification in his mind:
"The data link to the main server of Ultron has been completely interrupted."
He paused, then said softly, "Finally, some peace and quiet."
Then he turned around, stepped onto the plane.
The cabin door closed, the engines started, and the transport plane slowly took off. The interior lights were turned down to their lowest setting, and everyone found seats. Ye Mo sat by the window, took off his dust-covered hoodie, revealing a blood-soaked T-shirt underneath. He didn't change; he just sat there, his left hand resting on the windowsill, staring at the receding flames outside.
Tony sat in the co-pilot's seat, checking the armor status with JARVIS, occasionally cursing about a malfunctioning module. Captain America, in the middle of the cockpit, took out a tactical tablet and began recording combat briefings, his fingers typing rapidly. Thor, clutching Mjolnir, closed his eyes to regulate his breathing, which gradually became steady. Black Widow checked the communication equipment in the side seat, plugging and unplugging her headset to test the signal. Hawkeye leaned back in his seat, his head tilted to the side, looking like he was about to fall asleep, but his fingers were still unconsciously rubbing the edge of his quiver.
No one spoke.
But the atmosphere was different.
It wasn't tension, it wasn't wariness, and it wasn't the euphoria of victory; it was simply a feeling of groundedness.
Exhausted, but fulfilled.
Ye Mo leaned back in his chair, his eyelids growing heavier. He knew he should think about what to do next, such as how to repair the Steel Bone joints and how to deal with the frost residue, but his mind just wouldn't work. He took one last look out the window; the night sky was clear, and stars were peeking out one by one.
The transport plane flew smoothly through the clouds, heading towards the Avengers Compound.
His fingers slowly loosened their grip on the windowsill and fell onto the seat.
Her eyelashes trembled, but she didn't lift them again.