Just woken up, Shiller was deeply exhausted. He'd exerted so much effort only to get nothing in return, and it sat poorly with him.
When Shiller was upset, he'd try to upset others. Their discomfort gave him satisfaction.
Although the cosmos had reset, wiping out the contract he'd negotiated with Death, he'd recently acquired a new cell phone—the Obelisk. So, Shiller decided to give Death a few calls to reminiscence over their pleasant working relationship.
But upon picking up the Obelisk he'd gotten hold of earlier, Shiller found that the power of Death had vanished from it. No matter how he tried to activate it, the cellphone gave no response.
Shiller sat by his bed, placing the Obelisk on his bedside table, and stared at it in thought.
The Red Skull had once mentioned that the Obelisk held the power to elucidate the nature of death itself, and when Shiller got his hands on it, he found this to be true.
According to the plot of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the fact that Coulson was able to be revived using GH serum produced by the Kree, it was very possible that the Obelisk, much like the scale from the Egyptian Pantheon, was a tool used by the Kree to communicate with Death.
If that was the case, it should, like the scale, be able to act as a phone to contact Death. Shiller hadn't used the Obelisk to call Death before, so he hadn't ascertained whether this phone could function. But then, the Obelisk undeniably held the scent of Death.
Now, that scent was gone, and Shiller had no idea what Eternity had done, or that Death's violation had been warned, causing all resurrection tools to lose their original capabilities.
He assumed Death knew he'd gotten a new cellphone and was worried about being bothered again, so Death damaged the phone.
It was possible since Death had past convictions. Shiller could still vividly recall the scene where the scale was smashed. It was just that this time, Death took a preemptive strike, ruining the phone before Shiller had successfully dialed to bother Death.
Though the conjecture was logically consistent, the five gods obviously weren't that easy to deal with, otherwise, they'd have been overturned years ago.
Since he couldn't upset Death, he naturally had to change targets. As Shiller pondered on who to trouble, Tony Stark unexpectedly called. Picking up the phone, Shiller said:
"What? Miss Pepper?... What's happened to Tony? Alright, I'll swing by now."
Having said that, he got dressed. Just as he walked out to the front of Arkham Sanatorium, Jarvis had driven up to pick him up.
"How's it feel to drive for the first time?" Shiller turned his head to look at the robot next to him to which Jarvis, now attached to the robot's body, shook his head and said, "Sir, this isn't my first time driving."
"Of course, it is. Plus, it's driving without a license."
"No, I have a driving license." After Jarvis's explanation, he pulled a driving license from his pocket. When Shiller took it and looked, he found that it wasn't Stark's, but Jarvis's license.
"Issued by S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Shiller questioned while inspecting the license.
"No, I got it by myself."
Shiller gaped, turning to give Jarvis another look. The body Jarvis was using had a casual appearance, but even in human clothing, it's obvious he was a robot. Therefore, Shiller asked:
"How's the mental state of your driving instructor? Do they need to spend some time in Arkham Sanatorium?"
"It's a new law from the Federation. All mechanical life traversing the solar system must get a driver's license, similar to human processes, but stricter." Jarvis's tone was always mild. Though it lacked humor, he was indeed indistinguishable from an average human.
"Why is that?" Shiller said, feeling slightly puzzled. "I know Stark has created a lot of worker robots to participate in the solar system construction project, but why do the robots need to have driving licenses?"
"That starts from the major traffic jam in the solar system three days ago..." Jarvis explained, turning the steering wheel.
"Each project leader wanted their exploration and transport robots to reach their destinations as quickly as possible, so they all set the shortest routes between planets. Then... the scene was pretty brutal."
"Don't we have teleportation gates?" Shiller queried. "If I remember correctly, there's already a teleportation gate between Earth and Mercury. Why was there a traffic jam?"
"Yes, but that's another incident. Everyone in all departments wanted to use the teleportation gate first. They all assumed their experiments were crucial, but the gates needed to cool down, so... the scene was also brutal."
Shiller shook his head helplessly. Despite the solar system construction project being in full swing, and humanity uniting on various fronts, it was the pursuit of efficiency that caused continuous minor frictions.
As the car pulled into the underground parking lot of Stark Building, just as Shiller stepped inside, he met an anxious Pepper.
Without waiting for Shiller to ask, Pepper began speaking at bullet speed:
"Tony's anxiety's acting up again, worse than ever. Now, he's even finding it difficult to eat, hand's trembling non-stop. If it wasn't extremely urgent, I wouldn't have disturbed your rest…"
"Right, I understand." Nodding, Shiller and Pepper onto the elevator and arrived outside of the lab. Shiller looked at Pepper and said:
"I've already guessed a bit about his illness, but it's a bit difficult to explain, if you really want to understand his condition ..."
"No, Doctor Schiller, I only care if he's healthy." Pepper brushed her hair back, and looked at Schiller, saying, "You don't have to explain the reasons to me. I just want to see a normal Tony Stark, not him tormented by his anxiety disorder. I believe you want the same, right?"
Schiller didn't say anything else, just turned and opened the lab door. As usual, Stark was sitting at the lab bench, messing with some models. As Schiller approached, Stark didn't even turn his head, he just spoke:
"You're here? Did Pepper call you? She's always one to panic, like all women..."
"It would be more convincing if your right arm wasn't shaking when you say that." Schiller walked up to Stark and sat down across from him, looking at Stark, he asked, "Did you see something? Right when the cosmos were changing... "
Stark turned his head away, apparently not wanting to discuss this issue. Yet Schiller continued to speak, "If we're standing at the same level, it means that we will all face these questions together. Perhaps my approach might give you some inspiration, don't you think?"
Stark pursed his lips, his fingers continuously rotating the model in his hand. However, it was clear from his expression that his attention was not on any of his research projects, he was lost in contemplation.
After a while, he finally asked:
"Is everything we experience predestined? Is it all arranged by a higher being?"
"Interesting question, what do you think?"
Stark opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He thought for a while, then said, "That day, I saw an...an indescribable, majestic being. I don't know if it was God, or something else, but compared to him, all the cosmos are insignificant... "
"I saw that everything happening in all the universes is inextricably linked to him. I don't know how to describe it... but maybe I am the same... "
"Probably so." Much to Stark's surprise, Schiller nodded, "Perhaps everything we're doing and thinking now is predetermined. A higher being has always been deciding these things, arranging for the future course of the cosmos."
When Schiller said this, his tone was very calm. Stark looked at him with some confusion, "Don't you find it absurd? Don't you want to resist?"
"No, because I understand that there's no such thing as a truly independent person in this world. As long as a person has emotions, they will be influenced and will do certain things to meet certain expectations."
"Like, striving to study well to meet their parents' expectations, making meticulous preparations for a party to meet their friends' expectations, changing the course of their career to stay with their loved one to fulfill her expectations, all these influences combined together shape a person's life."
"Given this, whether your life is arranged by a higher being or influenced by love and affection, it doesn't really matter."
Schiller looked into Stark's eyes and said, "You think every choice you make is independent. However, the motivation and personality that lead you to make these choices are influenced by external factors... no man is an island."
"This..." Stark wanted to rebut. As long as we are destined to be influenced, it's all the same who influences us, this logic seems somewhat resigned. Yet upon further consideration, it seemed to be the truth.
Schiller pounded the table and said:
"You think you're only yourself, but in fact, you are a reflection of countless others."
"Parents, teachers, classmates, friends, their influence on you will eventually become a part of you."
"As long as we live in society, no one can be completely independent. Your personality is inscribed with the names of all the people you know."
"Whether they influence me 50% or that higher being influences me 99%, or even 100%, there is no difference, it's never going to be 0."
"As long as it's not 0, it doesn't matter how low it gets." Schiller shook his head, showing that he didn't really care.
"I just find it absurd that this existence can control our cosmos at any time. It makes me feel..." Stark paused, not continuing, but Schiller could see a sense of nihilism on his face.
Anyone who finds out that their hard work is insignificant to some entities and can be easily erased, would be greatly affected, especially a genius like Stark.
Ordinary people might think, well, what I've done doesn't amount to much, I can't really make a difference in this world, so it doesn't really matter if it's gone. But Stark is different, he firmly believes that he is changing the world, he has the responsibility and the mission to guide the human race towards a better future. Once this belief collapses, his personality is in peril.
Schiller guided Stark very calmly, his words indeed comforted Stark. After all he'd been through, Stark was no longer the playboy with a tough exterior and fragile interior.
Seeing that he was looking a little better, Schiller aptly excused himself to give him some alone time to think.
But as soon as he stepped out of the room, Schiller's calm facade broke. He clenched his jaw and murmured:
"If you had just made a compensation, would I be like this? ... Damn planner, just you wait."