The smell of cooking oil from the pancake shop hadn't even dissipated from his nose when Ye Mo had already sat back down in the somewhat sagging office chair at the base.
The paper bag in his hand was long since cold, but he had no appetite for another bite. The ordeal he had with Emma Frost in the training room earlier, though seemingly relaxed and carefree, had actually depleted his finesse in controlling his environment. Now that excitement had faded, all that remained was a buzzing stream of data in his head.
He rubbed his temples, and when his fingertips touched his temples, he could feel the blood vessels under his skin pulsating slightly. This wasn't fatigue; it was the aftershock of the " Gene Spiral Tower " running wildly in the background.
He didn't want to spend all the rewards the system gave him last night on himself.
Some of those power fragments could harden muscles like steel, while others could make skin as piercing as Shadowcat. In the past, he would have definitely given himself a full upgrade, since in this world teeming with superheroes, survival is paramount. But things are different now.
The battle at the airport made him realize one thing: individual strength alone cannot withstand an overwhelming barrage of fire. Tony's armor was a shield built on a massive investment; it would leave ordinary people with nothing but dust. If he wanted to survive and protect those around him, he needed a place that could truly shelter him from the storm.
It's not the kind of temporary hideout with a few talismans or warning lines, but an iron barrel that can keep out all prying eyes from both a physical and mental level.
Ye Mo took a deep breath and began typing on the control panel.
The screen lit up, its pale blue light illuminating his face and outlining his hard, cold features. He didn't speak, only staring at the pulsating code and structural diagrams. The base's defense upgrade couldn't involve large-scale construction teams; that would be too conspicuous. S.H.I.E.L.D.. satellites could be hovering overhead at any moment, and Stark Industries ' detection network was ubiquitous.
He had to build the wall in an "invisible" way.
The first step is to reinforce the outer shell.
Ye Mo brought up the base's architectural model, tracing his finger across the void to mark several key nodes in red. These locations were precisely the weakest points in the previous simulation tests, the ones most prone to collapse.
He extracted several fragments of Mutants abilities he had just acquired from the depths of his consciousness. One of them came from a Mutants skilled in hardening skin, while the other possessed a unique molecular bonding property. The system notification was indifferent, only telling him that they could be fused, but how to fuse them was up to him to figure out.
It's like solving a chemistry problem without a standard answer.
Ye Mo closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into that spiral-shaped void. He forcibly combined the two forces, imagining them becoming a nanoscale repair fluid that seeped into the cracks of the concrete and adhered to the surface of the steel bars.
In reality, the automated robotic arms underground at the base began to operate silently.
They expel a grayish-white mist that evenly covers the walls and ceilings. This substance is almost invisible to the naked eye, but it solidifies rapidly and bonds with the existing building materials at the molecular level.
Ye Mo opened his eyes and walked to a load-bearing wall.
He stretched out his hand and placed his palm on the cold wall. Through the reverse application of his " Sensory Enhancement " ability, he could clearly perceive the stress changes in every steel bar inside the wall.
At first, the wall was loose, like a shortbread. But as the misty substance seeped in, that looseness gradually disappeared, replaced by a dense and tough feel.
He tried tapping the wall gently with his knuckles.
Thump.
The sound was deep and resonant, no longer a hollow echo.
Ye Mo's lips curled up slightly, revealing a barely perceptible smile. It was done. The wall's current hardness was at least enough to withstand a direct hit from a conventional caliber cannon. Moreover, because it incorporated special ability fragments, it possessed a certain degree of elasticity, distributing the impact force across the entire building structure and preventing collapse caused by localized overload.
But that's not enough.
The real threat often comes not from frontal attacks, but from flank surveillance.
After the Superhuman Registration Act was passed, Mutants ' identities were made public, and surveillance became ubiquitous. Ordinary physical barriers could only stop bullets, not scans, let alone Telepathy tracking.
Emma Frost's newly acquired " Mind Ice Crystal " is useful, but it's an offensive tool, not a defensive one. To protect this shelter, there needs to be an invisible membrane to completely conceal the people inside.
Ye Mo sat back down at the console and opened a new program interface.
What he needs to do this time is to deploy a mental shield.
The principle is not complicated: it uses a reverse interference field to create a wave with a frequency opposite to that of the outside world. When external Scanning Wave or mental probes come into contact with this area, they are distorted and canceled out, ultimately resulting in a blank signal being fed back to the detector.
Simply put, it's about making this place a "blind spot" in everyone's perception.
This requires extremely high precision. Even a frequency difference of only one-thousandth of a hertz can cause shielding failure and even trigger nervous disorders among internal personnel.
Ye Mo put on his headphones, and a faint electrical hum filled his ears. His eyes sharpened as he stared intently at the waveform on the spectrum analyzer.
Left-hand rotation, fine-tuning, locking.
Right-handed, calibrated, stable.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping onto the keyboard with a soft sound. He dared not be careless in the slightest. This kind of precise operation was far more tiring than fighting. You could get some sleep after a fight, but this kind of mental work would give you a splitting headache if you stayed up too long.
About half an hour later, the noise on the spectrum analyzer finally subsided, forming a smooth green straight line.
"Shielding activated."
The system's cold, emotionless notification sounded, yet it relieved Ye Mo of the weight in his heart.
He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside the window, the sky above New York is a hazy gray, with the spire of the Empire State Building faintly visible in the distance. Cars stream along the streets, and pedestrians hurry by. No one knows that deep beneath the city, a safe house, undetectable even by S.H.I.E.L.D.., is quietly taking shape.
Ye Mo turned around and looked around.
The control center was brightly lit with soft lighting, and the holographic screens displayed normal values for various indicators. The ventilation system had been modified, and the airflow was specially filtered, preventing any spiritual probes attempting to travel through the air from entering the core area. Privacy protection measures for the residential area were also in place, with the angle of light refraction adjusted so that even if someone stood at the door, they could not see what was happening inside.
This place is no longer just a hiding cave, but a real fortress.
A home that belongs to them.
Ye Mo walked to the sofa, picked up the coffee cup that had long since gone cold, swirled it, and found only a ring of brown stains inside. He casually tossed the cup into the trash can with a soft thud.
All day long, he repaired his defenses brick by brick, like a craftsman.
Before, he was always thinking about how to run fast and how to hide far away. Like a frightened rabbit, he would dart into his hole at the slightest sound.
But now, he feels there's no need to run anymore.
As long as the wall is thick enough and the hole is deep enough, no one can easily pull him out.
He sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, a steady yet firm rhythm. It was a declaration, and also a promise.
The storm was still raging outside, public opinion was shifting rapidly, and voices against registration were rising and falling. But he didn't care about the noise.
What he cares about is whether the wall behind him can withstand the next wave of impact.
Ye Mo picked up a miniature energy core from the table. It was a new item that the system had just redeemed. It was small in size, but contained amazing explosive power. He played with it in his hand, feeling the faint vibrations it emitted.
I originally intended to keep this to save my life.
However, it now seems that it might be possible to embed it into the base's main energy system as a last resort. In the event that the shielding layer is breached or the physical barrier is torn apart, this core would be able to create a high-strength energy shield in a short time, buying time for evacuation.
Of course, hopefully we'll never have to use that day.
Ye Mo carefully placed the energy core deep inside the drawer and locked it.
After doing all this, he leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath.
Exhaustion washed over him like a tide, but he didn't fall asleep immediately. His gaze fell on the darkening sky outside the window, his eyes calm and deep.
This wall is not only for protection against enemies, but also for protection against the indifference and hostility of this world.
As long as the wall stands, home remains.
At this moment, the ordinary college student who only wanted to live a peaceful life seemed to have truly planted a seed called "guardianship" in his heart. Although this seed is still very small, it is taking root tenaciously in the hard soil.
Ye Mo raised his hand and rubbed his sore neck.
The data on the screen was still fluctuating, and the green cursor was flashing, as if urging him to continue working, or perhaps paying tribute to him.
He smiled, ignoring the flickering lights, and reached out to turn off the main light.
In the darkness, only the faint light from the control panel illuminated his tall and straight back.
Just then, a slight vibration came from the communicator on my wrist.
Ye Mo paused, looking down at his wrist.
The screen lit up, displaying a new encrypted message. The sender's ID was a string of gibberish, but he recognized the frequency.
It wasn't Tony, and it wasn't Steve.
It was an unfamiliar number.
Ye Mo's finger hovered above the screen, hesitating for a moment. He didn't tap it immediately, but instead glanced at his surroundings.
The shielding field is operating normally, and the physical barriers are intact.
In such an absolutely safe environment, any unexpected information seems particularly abrupt.
He narrowed his eyes, a hint of wariness flashing in his pupils.
This message came at the perfect time. It came right after he completed the base upgrade and established the first solid line of defense.
Was it a coincidence, or a test?
Ye Mo neither replied nor deleted the message. He simply sat quietly, listening to the faint static coming from the communicator, as if waiting for an answer, or perhaps savoring the calm before the storm.
The wind outside seemed to have picked up, causing the glass window to vibrate slightly.
Ye Mo raised his head and looked out at the dark night sky.
The night is still long.