The wheels slipped on the snow. Ye Mo slammed on the brakes and then quickly released them. The car wobbled twice before coming to a stop. The figure standing in front of him remained motionless. He squinted at him for a few seconds and noticed that the person wasn't breathing white vapor, and the edges of their silhouette were slightly distorted.
Hallucination.
He breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumped, his back completely soaked. Cold wind blew in through the broken car window, making him shiver. The sudden stop had exhausted his last bit of strength, and the wound on his arm had reopened, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the steering wheel.
Emma Frost was still unconscious in the passenger seat, her face pale and her breathing shallow. He didn't dare look at her for long, afraid that he wouldn't be able to hold on and would collapse too.
He restarted the car, bypassed the nonexistent figure, and continued driving along the snowy road. The dashboard warning light was flashing red, the fuel level was low, and the engine coughed a few times but kept running. About ten minutes later, he saw a low hut by the roadside, its roof covered in snow, its chimney not smoking, and its door half-bent.
We can't run anymore.
He parked the car across the doorway to block the wind, dragged himself out, and carried Emma Frost out to the other side. She was frighteningly light, like nothing but bones. He kicked open the door to the small house; it smelled musty, and there was a broken toolbox and an old blanket piled in the corner. He placed her on the floor at the back and grabbed a blanket to cover her.
Then he turned around, walked to the door, and pressed his hand against the crack. Cold air surged out from his palm, and ice quickly sealed the gap. He did the same to the windows, freezing the entire room into a sealed space.
After doing all that, he slid down to the ground against the wall, panting as if he had just run a marathon.
The bluish lines on my left arm began to fade, revealing new marks beneath the skin, like veins composed of ice crystals, shimmering faintly in the dim light. Suddenly, that familiar voice echoed in my mind:
[The full version of the Ice Manipulation Ability has been detected. Activate now?]
He didn't speak, he just nodded.
A cool energy surged from the depths of my consciousness, flowing through my meridians and throughout my body. The bleeding from the wound stopped, the crack slowly closed, a thin layer of frost formed and then fell off automatically. The chill was no longer biting, but rather as natural as drinking water and breathing.
He raised his hand, palm up. A wisp of white mist condensed, turning into an ice bead that floated in the air.
He curled the corner of his mouth slightly.
This thing finally obeyed my commands.
The last few times I used this ability, it was out of desperation—blowing up doors, sealing off enemies, extending my life—it was all a desperate maneuver. Back then, the cold air was rampant and uncontrollable, almost freezing me solid. Now it's different; the energy is stable, and my mind is clear.
He tried to make the ice bead bigger, and it grew bigger; he stretched it, and it became a thin needle. He flicked his finger, and the ice needle shot into the opposite wall, exploding into a shower of frost flowers with a "pop."
good.
He stood up, stretched his limbs, and after confirming that he was alright, he knelt down next to Emma Frost. She was still asleep, her breathing more even than before. He reached out and touched her forehead; it wasn't hot.
"You should get some sleep," he said. "By the time you wake up, I might be so handsome you won't recognize me."
He laughed after he finished speaking.
He pushed open the door and went outside. The wind and snow had lessened a bit. Behind the hut was a frozen lake, covered by a thick layer of white snow, making it impossible to tell its depth. He walked over, stood in the middle of the lake, feet apart, palms flat on the ground.
The cold air descended, and the entire lake began to tremble. The ice spread outward from him, crackling and increasing in thickness by three feet in an instant. He raised his hand and slid it, causing the ice to bulge and form a winding slope; with another pull, the slope extended into a slide, its surface as smooth as a mirror.
He took two steps back, jumped up, and tried it out. He slid off with lightning speed, finally coming to a steady stop on the shore.
"Wow, that's awesome!" he patted his pants. "I could be the boss of an ice and snow park someday."
He tried several more tricks: building ice walls, constructing bridges, and crafting ice skates. Each time, he was more precise than the last, never losing control. He could even control the hardness of the ice, making it soft enough to use as a mat and hard enough to stop bullets.
Most importantly, this time using my abilities no longer harms my body. Before, I would have to lie down for half a day after unleashing a powerful attack, but now I can use it continuously for ten minutes without my heart rate getting out of control.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and recalled all the previous scenes—infiltrating through Wall Phasing, tracking enemies, forcibly restarting his abilities with electricity... Every time he used ice, it was to save people, to break through, and to survive.
It turns out that this ability wasn't something forced upon me by the system; I built it up step by step on my own.
He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the lake. His black hoodie was stained with blood and mud, his glasses were askew, and there were scratches on his face. But his gaze was steady, unlike when he was fleeing for his life.
He knew what to do next.
He raised his right hand, palm facing upward, and condensed a small ball of cold air. Then, with his left hand, he activated Thermal Vision, combining the two abilities.
The perspective has changed.
The temperature differences around him became clearly visible. The ground, the air, and the distant trees all displayed different colored tracks. He saw a pale blue trail left where he had just walked, and the wind blowing from that direction was orange-red.
Three seconds later, the video cut out.
But he already understood.
This ability allows you to predict your opponent's movements; as soon as their body temperature changes, you can know where they're going. Combined with Ice Manipulation, it's possible to "freeze them before they even arrive."
Just as he was about to try again, a buzzing sound came from afar.
Looking up, I saw a small black dot rapidly approaching on the horizon, flashing red and blue light.
Tony is here.
He stood up, brushed the snow off his clothes, and went back to the cabin. He pushed open the door and went inside. Emma Frost was still asleep, her face buried in the blanket, with only a strand of white hair showing.
He stared at her for a few seconds, then whispered, "When you wake up, the world will be different."
As soon as the words were spoken, the voice in my head rang out again:
[ Ice Manipulation Ability is maxed out; can be combined with other abilities]
He wasn't surprised; he just smiled.
This is just the beginning.
He walked to the corner, picked up a piece of broken glass, and looked at his eyes in the light. A very faint blue ring appeared around the edge of his pupil, disappearing in an instant.
He threw the glass away, sat down next to Emma Frost, and closed his eyes to rest. The wind outside had stopped, and the ice on the lake made a faint sound, as if something was taking shape.
Tony's armored vehicle landed in the open space outside, the sound of its engine growing louder as it approached. There was a knock on the door.
"Is anyone there?" someone shouted from outside. "Don't tell me you two are having some kind of romantic getaway."
Ye Mo didn't open his eyes, but raised one hand and waved it in the air.
The steps outside the door instantly froze, and Tony slipped and stumbled as he stepped onto them.
"Damn it! You little brat, are you asking for a beating?"
Ye Mo opened his eyes and smiled.
Tony brushed the snow off himself, walked in, and looked around. "There's no heating in this place. How did you guys survive?"
"It's all about skill." Ye Mo stood up and stretched his shoulders. "Besides, I just unlocked a new skill. Want to give it a try?"
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
Ye Mo raised his hand, palm down. A thin layer of ice quickly spread across the floor, extending all the way to Tony's feet.
For example—I'd ask you to slide out and repeat what you just said.
Tony looked down at his feet and sneered, "You think I don't know what you're up to? At the last press conference, you pretended to be weak to gain sympathy, but then you turned around and took down three Hydra outposts."
"That's work," Ye Mo shrugged. "This is entertainment."
Before the words were even finished, the ice surface suddenly tilted.
Tony reacted quickly, immediately activating the thrusters in his boots and leaping into the air. But Ye Mo was prepared; with a flick of his right hand, three ice spikes materialized in the air, forming a triangular shape to seal off the space above.
Tony was forced to fall, his back slamming heavily onto the ice, shaking the entire room.
"You're insane!" he struggled to his feet. "I'm one of the world's most wanted criminals!"
"You've come to see me now," Ye Mo said, approaching. "That means you're not afraid."
Tony stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. "Fine, you win. But I'm warning you, don't use ice as a trap next time; this armor just got fresh paint."
Ye Mo reached out to help him up. "Don't worry, next time I'll just freeze your thrusters."
Tony patted him on the shoulder. "That's progress. At least you didn't end up in the ICU with the electric shock this time."
The two stood side by side, neither mentioning the fight that had just taken place. Outside, the lake was as still as a mirror, and the ice slide gleamed coldly in the moonlight.
Emma Frost rolled over in the blanket, her eyelashes fluttering.
Ye Mo glanced at it, then turned and walked towards the door.
"Let's go," he said. "It's time to get to work."
Tony nodded and followed.
When the door opened, a blast of cold air hit us.
Ye Mo stood on the threshold and glanced back at the unconscious figure inside the room.
His fingers twitched slightly.
On the floor, a thin line of ice quietly extended, locking in the surface temperature of the entire room.