The doorknob turned very quietly, but it sounded particularly jarring in the silent corridor.
Ye Mo didn't turn around. He knew that the eyes of his old buddies were still fixed on his back, and that silence carried more weight than any grand words. He pushed open the door, and the air outside, carrying the damp and dusty smell unique to New York, rushed in.
He didn't go through the main entrance, but instead went around to the fire escape on the side of the building. The motion-activated lights in the stairwell were broken, and only the green signs for the emergency exits emitted a faint glow. Ye Mo's footsteps were very light; the soles of his tactical boots were specially treated, making almost no sound as he stepped on the concrete steps. He was like a drop of ink blending into the night, quickly disappearing into the depths of darkness.
Half an hour later, at the entrance to an abandoned subway station on the edge of Queens.
This place had long been forgotten by the city; the iron fence was rusty, and weeds grew rampant around it. Ye Mo crouched in the shadows, adjusting his breathing. The stinging sensation from Africa in his mind had subsided, replaced by a cold focus.
He was waiting for someone.
Ten seconds later, a very faint gust of wind came from above. It wasn't a natural wind, but rather an airflow caused by some kind of energy disturbing the air. Ye Mo looked up and saw a figure silently land five meters away from him.
Emma Frost Thaddeus Ross.
She wore a long, dark gray trench coat with the collar turned up, obscuring half her face. Her signature purple eyes gleamed slightly in the darkness, exuding a cold and aloof aura. At this moment, she had suppressed all her brilliance, making her resemble an uncut Obsidian, understated yet dangerous.
"You're two minutes late." Ye Mo stood up, dusted off his pants, and said calmly.
"I'm checking if anyone's following us." Emma Frost's voice was a little hoarse, but clear. " S.H.I.E.L.D..'s surveillance network has tightened up lately, especially their analysis of movement patterns in Mutants- populated areas. I had to go around three blocks and use electromagnetic interference to mask my movements for the last 500 meters."
Ye Mo nodded, his gaze quickly sweeping over her entire body. "You look good."
Emma Frost didn't reply, but simply raised her hand, her fingertips lightly tracing the air. A mental ripple, barely perceptible to the naked eye, spread out from her, covering the surrounding streets, sewer entrances, and even distant lampposts. This was her way of confirming the safety of the environment, and also a tacit, unspoken connection with Ye Mo.
A few seconds later, she withdrew her hand, her brow furrowing slightly. "It's clean for now. But we don't have much time; we must leave this area before dawn."
"Let's go." Ye Mo turned and walked into the darkness deep within the subway station. "The meeting point is over there."
The two walked one after the other through the graffiti-covered tunnel. The puddles under their feet reflected the broken lights, and their footsteps echoed in the empty underground space, yet strangely maintained a synchronized rhythm. They didn't need to communicate, because they knew what the other was doing and thinking.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at an abandoned warehouse located underground in Brooklyn.
This is a secret liaison point for the resistance organization, usually used to store old parts bought from the black market, but tonight it has become a temporary command post.
Pushing open the heavy iron door, a strong aroma of coffee mixed with tobacco wafted out. The warehouse was brightly lit, and a dozen people sat around a huge long table. The table was covered with maps, documents, and some high-tech equipment.
Upon seeing Ye Mo walk in, the previously noisy discussion instantly quieted down.
These people were a diverse group. There were former mercenaries, down-on-their-luck scientists, and a few wary young Mutants. Most of them wore expressions of exhaustion and anxiety, clearly overwhelmed by the Superhuman Registration Act. When " Mr. X," wearing silver-rimmed glasses and a black combat suit, appeared, many of them looked at him with scrutiny and distrust.
After all, " Mr. X " is just a code name; no one knows who he is or how capable he really is.
Ye Mo walked straight to the head seat at the end of the table and sat down. He ignored the questioning looks and instead took out a data tablet from his pocket and connected it to the projector on the table.
A blue beam of light shone on the wall, and a complex 3D map unfolded. The map marked the terrain of the southern border of Africa, and several red arrows pointed to specific coordinates.
"Ulysses Klaue," Ye Mo spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly carrying throughout the warehouse, "He's causing trouble on the Wakanda border. He's testing barriers with sonic weapons and violently mining Vibranium. His goal isn't just money; he also wants to smuggle highly sensitive weapons into the global black market."
A burly man with a thick beard sneered, toying with a dagger in his hand. "What does this have to do with us? That's a matter between nations. All we need to do is protect ourselves and avoid being captured and dissected by the government. You're messing with Wakanda; aren't you afraid of getting burned?"
"If Klaue succeeds, more illegal weapons will flood the streets, meaning more Mutants will die in the chaos or be forced to reveal their identities and seek asylum." Ye Mo wasn't angry; he simply stated the facts calmly. "The core logic of the Superhuman Registration Act is 'regulation,' but if regulation fails, or if the regulators themselves become a threat, how will we survive? By luck?"
The burly man paused for a moment, then remained silent.
At this moment, Emma Frost stepped forward and stood beside Ye Mo. She did not deliberately release her mental pressure, but her innate noble temperament and calm aura made everyone present unconsciously straighten their backs.
"This isn't police enforcement, nor is it a political game." Emma Frost surveyed the crowd, her gaze sharp. "This is a battle for survival. The forces behind Klaue won't be content with just smuggling. Once he has enough Vibranium and technology, his next target will be us 'destabilizing factors.' Stopping him is buying time for everyone."
Her words contained no sentimentality, only cold, hard logic. Everyone present understood this logic. After all, no one wanted to be the next target.
Ye Mo continued operating the data panel, pulling up another document. "This is my summary of Klaue's operational routes and security vulnerabilities. I've contacted other branches of the resistance; they'll provide intelligence support and perimeter cover. What we need to do is cut off his supply chain before he completes his first large-scale transfer."
He looked at the crowd. "I don't need you to be heroes, nor do I need you to die. I just need professionals to do professional things. Hackers will be responsible for disrupting communications, snipers for high ground surveillance, and assault teams for breaking through the defenses. As for the core operations, I'll arrange that."
A brief silence fell over the room.
The burly, bearded man glanced at Emma Frost, then at Ye Mo, before finally sheathing his dagger with a crisp sound. "As long as I'm not sent to my death, I'll do it. But I have one condition: once the operation begins, the retreat route must prioritize the evacuation of my team."
"Okay." Ye Mo nodded. "The bottom line is to avoid implicating innocent people and prioritize targeting the core network. If anything unexpected happens, everyone should fight their own battles, and survival comes first."
This sentence was like the last straw, breaking the last bit of hesitation.
Another young scientist wearing glasses raised his hand. "I can optimize the energy frequency of the Klaue base to create a brief blind spot, lasting about thirty seconds."
"That's enough," Ye Mo said.
"Then I'll take charge of medical care and rear cover." A burly woman stood up.
For the next hour, the warehouse was filled with hushed discussions and the issuance of instructions. The atmosphere was tense yet orderly; no one complained, and no one backed down. Everyone knew this was a perilous journey, but no one chose to give up.
Because the cost of quitting is more terrible than death.
With the last instruction confirmed, the meeting adjourned.
The crowd began to disperse, each returning to their posts to make final preparations. Some checked their equipment, some adjusted their communicators, and others simply leaned quietly against the wall, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a long plume of smoke.
Ye Mo and Emma Frost stood on the steps at the warehouse exit.
The night wind was strong, making my trench coat flutter loudly. The neon lights of the distant city were blurred into a halo in the fog, their specific outlines indistinct.
Emma Frost turned her head and looked at Ye Mo's profile. His expression was calm, showing no emotion, but a resolute flame burned in his eyes.
"Do you really not want to live a peaceful life anymore?" Emma Frost asked softly.
Ye Mo did not answer immediately. He reached out and caught a drop of rain falling from the eaves. The rain was cold and slid down his palm.
He remembered the coffee in the apartment, the group of old buddies who silently supported him at the base, and the warmth of Emma Frost's handshake with him on the training field.
"Peace is a luxury," Ye Mo said calmly. "Besides, I have too many things I can't afford to lose right now."
Emma Frost smiled, a faint smile that carried a hint of relief. She patted Ye Mo's shoulder lightly, a gesture that conveyed silent support.
"Then let's go," she said.
Ye Mo turned to look into the distance. On the horizon, the flight path of an airplane could be vaguely seen streaking across the night sky, leaving a white contrail.
They did not turn back.
Ahead lies an unknown battlefield, a position they must hold fast to.
The team is officially formed and ready to go.