The lab lights were still flickering, but the rhythm had changed. Before, they were jumping around like a mad dog; now they were panting and gasping, like an old air conditioner about to fall apart. Ye Mo leaned against the control panel, his fingers resting on the edge. He could feel the vibrations coming from underneath, each one weaker than the last. He didn't dare sit down, afraid he would fall asleep if he did.
Emma Frost stood in the center of the main hall, her Diamond Body gleaming coldly. The scratch on her left shoulder was still there, the crack not spreading, but her posture was a little stiff, a thin gap appearing between her feet and the floor—the uppercut she had just delivered had been so powerful that the floor had cracked. She stared at the Yellowjacket, her gaze unwavering, her breathing low, as if waiting for some signal.
The Yellowjacket knelt on one knee, the armored vehicle's alarm blaring intermittently, the red light from the vents flickering like a burnt circuit board. He supported himself with one hand on the ground, the other still raised, his fist burning hot, but he didn't rush forward again. The jamming chip Scott had planted was still working, the system stuck in a reboot loop, each time it was forcibly interrupted just as it was about to resume output.
But the man didn't fall.
They didn't admit defeat either.
Instead, he looked up at Emma Frost, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he were smiling.
In that instant, Emma Frost's eyes twitched slightly, and she made a barely perceptible gesture with her left hand—a pre-arranged signal: make your move.
Scott, hidden behind the support column, immediately understood. He glanced down at the controller screen; the signal point on the back of his neck was still flashing, green indicating "operable." He took a deep breath, and the suit's micro-propulsion module reactivated, adjusting the scaling frequency to 3.5, slowly shrinking his entire body to about 20 centimeters.
He crawled forward along the crack in the ground, his movements as light as a cockroach scurrying around a corner. The red light in the conduit area was still flashing, and the energy flow was humming incessantly, but he remembered the pattern of the data waveform that Ye Mo had transmitted earlier—there was a brief current trough every three and a half seconds, when the induced current was weakest, making it suitable for passage.
The first high-frequency vibration point was two meters above his head, at a bend in the road where current could easily accumulate. He crouched down, waited for the red light to thin out, then suddenly darted out, gliding close to the bottom of the main power supply line. The second point was the resonance zone of the vertical section; he circled around to the back, using the coolant pipes as cover to avoid the scan. The third point was the most difficult, a crossroads with a double-layered Sensor Net. He simply stopped for five seconds, turned off the thrusters' silent mode, and even held his breath, waiting for the system to misinterpret it as environmental fluctuations before continuing.
Finally, it reached the area below the back of the neck.
The sight before him made his heart skip a beat—the energy core wasn't an exposed structure, but rather embedded in a double-layered alloy casing. The outer layer was an explosion-proof shell, and the inner layer had an electromagnetic lock, making it impossible to touch the main body without manually disassembling it. He took out the miniature cutting blade that came with the Ant-Man Suit. The blade was only two millimeters long and cut metal using high-frequency vibration.
The first layer of protective plate went smoothly, with minimal vibration when sawing it open. However, just as he cut halfway in, the entire conduit suddenly vibrated, and a short "beep" sounded from inside. He immediately stopped, shut down all non-essential modules, and held his breath for five seconds. The system didn't respond again; it must have been a false alarm.
He continued cutting.
The alloy plate emitted a faint "sizzling" sound, and sparks emerged from the gaps. He kept an eye on the temperature reading on the controller as he cut—it couldn't exceed seventy degrees, otherwise the self-locking system would activate and electrocute the intruder into a charcoal stick. Sweat streamed down his forehead, especially noticeable in his shrunken state; one drop landed on his glove and almost slipped into the cut.
As the last clip loosened, the Yellowjacket suddenly moved.
He suddenly looked up, twisting his neck as if sensing something unusual in the back of his neck. Emma Frost instantly lunged forward, throwing a straight punch at his faceplate, forcing him to lean forward. But as the punch landed, the crystal in her left arm cracked, the crack widening, slowing her movements by a fraction of a second.
Scott seized the opportunity and used tools to pry open the last clip.
The blue core sphere was exposed, about the size of a fist, its surface pulsating rhythmically like an artificial heart. He quickly took out the EMP module from his tactical pouch, an emergency kit Ye Mo had given him earlier. It was palm-sized and had a magnet on the front. He held his breath, attached the module, and pressed the start button.
Countdown: 3...2...
He immediately turned and ran back the way he came. Steam had already begun to leak, and the high-temperature coolant turned into white mist that filled the duct area, blurring his vision and making the ground slippery. He jumped onto a horizontal support, just about to use it for propulsion, when he slipped and almost fell into the energy flow channel.
In the nick of time, he grabbed the support frame, used his waist and abdomen to swing, and was propelled five meters away. He rolled twice upon landing, crashing into a pile of scrap metal before coming to a stop. Ignoring the pain, he looked back—
"Boom!"
A muffled thud came from inside the armor, not like an explosion, but more like something being abruptly extinguished. The blue light suddenly went out, the humming of the entire Yellowjacket armor stopped abruptly, and the lights went out one by one, leaving only a few emergency lights barely hanging on.
The Yellowjacket swayed, one knee hitting the ground completely. Black smoke billowed from several joints in his armor, and his right arm slumped down with a loud thud, as if a bone had broken. He was panting heavily, his head bowed, his expression unreadable, but his shoulders were trembling.
Emma Frost didn't stop.
She stepped forward, her Diamond Form creating a gust of wind, and swung her right fist in a wide arc, smashing it into the seam of her opponent's left shoulder. The blow was swift and brutal; with a loud "bang," a section of the armor dented, and several screws flew out from the interior. She didn't stop there, unleashing a barrage of left hooks, right swings, and knee strikes, each attack targeting the weakest point, forcing the Yellowjacket to retreat repeatedly, unable even to parry.
Scott leaned against a pillar, panting heavily, and quickly reverted to his original form. His suit's right shoulder was slightly deformed; the scaling system lags briefly before returning to normal. He wiped his face and opened the communicator. "The core's destroyed, but he can still move. Be careful he doesn't fake death."
Ye Mo leaned against the control panel, and upon hearing the sound, nodded with difficulty. He forced himself to stand up straight, one hand gripping the edge, the other reconnecting to the control system. The data stream on the screen was still jumping, but it wasn't surging as wildly as before. He glanced at the Yellowjacket's vital signs—rapid heartbeat, soaring blood pressure, and surging adrenaline—a typical "trapped beast mode."
He knew this guy wasn't done yet.
Emma Frost's attacks grew increasingly fierce, but the cracks in her left arm had spread to her elbow, and a faint "crackling" sound could be heard with each exertion. She knew that the Diamond Form couldn't last long, especially under continuous high-intensity impacts.
But she can't stop.
If she stops, the Yellowjacket will have a chance to counterattack.
She took a step forward, crossed her arms, and chopped down, striking the opponent squarely in the chest. The Yellowjacket staggered backward, his back slamming into a load-bearing pillar, which shook violently. He raised his hand to block, but his movements were slow, and the armor's response speed had dropped significantly.
Seeing this, Scott immediately circled around to the flank and hid behind another pillar, preparing to block the retreat. He watched the Yellowjacket's movements, his fingers on the controller, ready to launch a surprise attack at any moment.
Ye Mo stared at the screen and suddenly noticed something—although most of the Yellowjacket's armor was disabled, the underlying power system was still running, and... the temperature was slowly rising.
He frowned and pulled up the thermal image.
really.
The armor has a self-heating mechanism inside, like some kind of emergency protocol is being activated. The temperature curve has just started to rise and is not obvious yet, but at this rate, it will reach the critical point in three minutes at most.
He immediately said, " Emma Frost, don't push him too hard, he's building up his energy!"
Emma Frost heard this, paused, but didn't retreat. She stood still, her Diamond Form gleaming coldly, her gaze fixed on her opponent. The Yellowjacket slowly raised his head, his face covered in sweat, but his eyes shone with a frightening intensity, like red-hot iron.
"You... destroyed my things." His voice was hoarse, as if his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper. "Then don't blame me for... making you all pay with your lives."
Before he could finish speaking, he slammed his fist into the ground.
The shockwave exploded, scattering debris everywhere, forcing Emma Frost to jump backward. He used the momentum to flip himself up, and although his armor was damaged, his movements were much more agile than before. Ye Mo's pupils contracted—the heating effect has taken effect, this guy forcibly activated some functions using self-destructive overload.
Scott immediately lowered his body. "He's going to fight to the death!"
Emma Frost didn't answer, but instead took a step forward.
She knew she couldn't back down.
If we retreat now, all our previous efforts will have been in vain.
She raised her right hand, pointing it at the Yellowjacket, her voice cold and clear. "Come on, let's see how many more seconds you can last."
The Yellowjacket grinned, revealing a mouthful of bloody teeth.
He slowly raised his left arm, the only arm he could still move, and a point of golden light began to gather in his palm.
It's not a sonic cannon.
It's not a concussion punch either.
It's a more primitive and violent way of gathering energy—as if they're putting all their last bit of power into this one strike.
Ye Mo stared at the screen, his lips moving slightly.
Scott gripped the controller tightly.
Emma Frost tensed up completely.
All three knew that whoever could withstand the next blow would survive.