A Late-Night Heart-to-Heart
Ye Mo did not actually head towards the equipment room.
He stopped after taking two steps, as if pulled back to his original position by some invisible force. The soles of his tactical boots scraped softly on the floor behind him. He turned around and looked into Emma Frost's still sharp eyes. The effort he had put into using busyness to cover up his guilt instantly deflated.
"Never mind." Ye Mo sighed, pulled out the somewhat worn fabric sofa, and sank heavily into it. The fabric made a slight protesting sound, but he didn't care. Exhaustion surged up like a tide, even more intensely than when he was building the ice wall in the industrial area.
Emma Frost didn't speak, she just watched him quietly. She didn't reach for the weapon, nor did she check the mess of data cables, but instead turned and walked to the small bar in the corner. There was an old-fashioned coffee machine there, a piece of junk left behind by Tony when he last came, but at least it could still make hot water.
A few minutes later, a steaming cup of black coffee was gently placed on the coffee table in front of Ye Mo. The warmth emanating from the cup traveled through his fingertips to his palm, and the tangible sensation eased Ye Mo's tense nerves slightly.
"You just said you were afraid of implicating your friends if you chose the wrong side." Emma Frost sat on the single sofa next to him, her legs crossed, her posture elegant yet slightly aloof. "That sounds like a hero's self-sacrifice, but in reality, it's more like a coward's excuse."
Ye Mo picked up his cup and took a sip. The bitterness exploded on his tongue, burning down his throat and dispelling some of the chill. He didn't refute, because he was speechless. Emma Frost's words, though harsh, were like a scalpel, precisely dissecting his carefully crafted facade.
"When I was in the Hellfire Club, I saw too many people abandon their comrades for the sake of so-called 'righteousness' or 'stance'." Emma Frost's voice was calm, as if she were telling someone else's story. "Back then, I thought that as long as I was strong enough, I could control everything. Until I discovered that power is like sand in your hand; the tighter you grasp it, the faster it slips away. In the end, it wasn't my enemy who pushed me off the cliff, but the person I trusted."
She raised her head, her gaze falling on Ye Mo's face. Her eyes held no accusation, only a deep understanding.
"Fear is not weakness, Ye Mo. It's a biological instinct. Everyone is afraid when faced with an unknown storm. What you fear is not death, but losing everything you have now—your peaceful life, and... the people around you."
Ye Mo's fingers tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. He lowered his head, looking at the swirling black liquid in the glass, his slightly disheveled face reflected in it.
"I know," he said in a low, hoarse voice, "That's why I wanted to hide. I wanted to be an ordinary person, not get involved in this mess. But..."
He paused, then looked up at Emma Frost: "But you came. And there are those children waiting for us to rescue them in the ruins. If I continue to hide, I'll truly just be a bystander. A Coldblood bystander."
Emma Frost was silent for a moment. The only sounds in the lounge were the hum of the ventilation fans and the gradually warming air between the two of them.
"Avoiding the problem won't solve it; it will only make it worse." Emma Frost stood up, walked to Ye Mo, and squatted down to be at eye level with him. This gesture softened her usually aloof image, making her appear more approachable.
"Since we can't predict the future, let's bear the consequences together." Emma Frost reached out and gently placed her hand on the back of Ye Mo's hand, which was holding the coffee cup. Her palm was slightly cool, yet carried a firm strength. "I don't need you to be a perfect hero, nor do I need you to take sides. I only hope that when you make a choice, you have someone by your side to rely on."
Feeling the warmth on his back, Ye Mo's hardened defenses crumbled completely. He had always thought of himself as a lone traveler, surviving in the Marvel Universe thanks to the system and his intelligence. But now, he realized he wasn't alone. Emma Frost's existence gave him both a weakness and armor.
"Okay." Ye Mo grasped Emma Frost's hand in return, his grip light but firm. "I won't run away. I'll find a middle path. One that neither lets innocent people bleed nor lets Civil War tear this world apart."
Emma Frost's lips curved into a faint smile, a smile devoid of mockery, only one of relief and contentment. She stood up, sat back down on the sofa, and leaned slightly towards Ye Mo, adopting a silent posture of dependence.
"This road won't be easy," she said. "The shadow of the Superhuman Registration Act is still hanging over us; S.H.I.E.L.D.., the Avengers, the Mutants community—everyone's watching us. You need to be more cautious and smarter."
"I know." Ye Mo released his grip, picked up the coffee on the table, and drank it all in one gulp. The bitter aftertaste spread in his mouth, giving him an unprecedented sense of clarity.
"Get some rest tonight." Emma Frost glanced at the clock on the wall; the hands were already pointing to two in the morning. "Tomorrow morning, we need to come up with a detailed plan, especially regarding Spatial Perception. There should be new clues in your Gene Spiral Tower."
Ye Mo nodded, leaned back on the sofa, and closed his eyes. Although his body was still exhausted, the anxiety in his heart had completely dissipated. In its place was a calm strength. He knew that from this moment on, he was no longer the transmigrator who just wanted to live a peaceful life, but a true warrior, a guardian.
The night outside the window was still dark, but the lights inside the base were warm and bright. Ye Mo opened his eyes and looked at Emma Frost beside him. She was also looking at him, her eyes clear and firm.
"Go to sleep," Ye Mo said softly. "Tomorrow, it's time to get to work."
Emma Frost didn't answer, but simply nodded slightly, turning her gaze to the dark night sky outside the window. The two figures were very close in the dim light, as if they had built a small haven in this turbulent world.