In front of the round Zen window, the light was hazy and soft, casting halos around the silhouettes of the two men. Stark looked at Strange's angry face with some confusion.
He had seldom seen Stephen this angry. It was common knowledge that Strange had a bad temper. It was generally manifested in his impatience, poor social skills, and certain idiosyncrasies brought on by his profession as a surgeon.
But it seemed to be the first time Stark had seen him genuinely angry. Strange, dressed in a suit, stood up from the sofa. Yes, he wasn't wearing his robe. Stark had rarely seen Strange in his robes, as it seemed he only wore the garb of the Supreme Magician when engaging in large-scale combat scenarios.
Most of the time, he was in a suit. It wasn't to show off his upper-class status, as Stark vaguely remembered him saying he hated casual clothing. Mainly, it was the sense of relaxation that casual attire induced that he disliked. Perhaps robes were too relaxed for him as well.
How can anyone in this world hate relaxation?
Stark's knowledge of psychology and behaviorism told him that some people thrive on constant anxiety and tension. This is often seen in high-stakes professions, with surgeons being a prime example.
In Stark's portrayal of Strange, it was beyond doubt that he was as neurotic as Shiller. These two doctors displayed similar degrees of mental abnormality and moral depravity.
The scene Stark wrote about in his rage-filled notebook was triggered by Captain America Steve being his friend. Even a Captain America from another universe shouldn't have to suffer such a calamity, being turned into a monster. His indignation was quite justified and reasonable.
But Strange and Steve did not get along well. They were the classic conflict between civilian personnel and security. Strange thought Steve was reckless, while Steve found Strange pretentious. Not to mention this was a Steve from another universe. In this situation, Strange should have reveled in his misfortune, and indeed, he did.
Where did the turning point come in? It seemed to tie into the notebook where the transformed Captain America Steve was effortlessly toyed with by the notebook owner and an unknown creature.
Strange thought Steve was too weak?
Stark recalled Strange's final remark, they had given so much only to gain so little. So did he feel the trade was unfair?
But that was all happening in another universe; does it warrant such a strong reaction? Also, his view of the events of the Dream Universe was quite extreme, wasn't it?
When Stark raised this question, Strange who was standing beside the shelf seemed to struggle with the anger and resentment in his voice. He retorted, sounding venomous, like a spitting cobra:
"What truly drives me to anger and disgrace is that in the Dream Universe, humans sacrificed their physical form, wisdom, and character, yet gained nothing — a normal social order, huh?"
"Am I to praise these fools who can only deceive themselves? Am I to write a hymn for their cowardly sellouts that yielded only scraps? I can only say 'Damn fools!' They deserve to die! That's all!"
"That's too extreme." Stark responded conservatively.
"Not even close, Tony Stark!" Strange swiveled around, looking Stark in the eyes and asked, "You've been a businessman before; let me ask you, who do you hate the most when you try to sell an item for a hundred bucks, but no one's buying?"
"Unappreciative customers?" Stark guessed, but he wasn't very adept at business.
"Wrong, the same business selling it at fifty!" Strange spat between his teeth. "Their reason for deserving death is this, they've pulled down the value of what we trade; including human form, wisdom, and character! They've satiated those gods with their petty sacrifices, letting them believe I'm asking for the moon!"
Strange took a deep breath to explain further: "Humankind must be of sufficient value. The heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys of my civilization, that of all Supreme Magicians, all mages, all human civilizations, must be valuable enough! That's the bargaining chip in all negotiations. I only care about that!"
"Whoever kneels first dies. It's as simple as that!"
Stark fell silent. As America's, now the world's biggest capitalist, and having another such capitalist in his head, they understood better than anyone the enormous benefits of a combined monopoly. And that's exactly what all Supreme Magicians were doing—holding all of humanity hostage, and then jacking up the price.
Any demon god who wished to harm humans would have to get past the blade of the Supreme Magicians, the Magical Defense Network. They must shed ample blood and leave enough advantage, and then mages would raise their price. For tens of thousands of years, that's how Kamar-Taj had operated.
If a demon god wanted to forcefully invade Earth and plunder humans, they would find the costs of battling with mages far outweighed the spoils. As mages would fight to the death, and in desperate times, drag Earth down with them. Leaving their enemies to expend vast amounts of energy for nothing. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't worth it. So, the only option left was to negotiate—get fleeced so to speak.
This agreement has been in place for millions of years, it has got to the point where almost no demon god would suddenly consider attacking Earth. To some extent, they've been tamed by rules and order.
But if an anomaly emerged, allowing the gods to easily obtain what they want, it could inspire other demon gods, creating disruptive thoughts and ambitions to replace one another.
Strange returned to his chair, his rage seemed to have evaporated. But a deeper coldness gleamed on his face, a coldness mingled with sorrow, indifference, and pity.
Too contradictory, Stark thought, yet strangely harmonious.
"They not only undervalued their interests but ours as well. The moment they made that deal, I regret to say—whether they were willing or not, they no longer belong to us. I will destroy them."
Stark was certain there wasn't an ounce of guilt or remorse in Strange's statement. Not a bit.
The expression on Stark's face slowly changed, revealing a deeper, darker entity within him, another soul raring to join the conversation. In his deep, resonant voice, he asked:
"Even if it defies fairness?"
"Asking demon gods for fairness is foolish."
"I was referring to the humans being destroyed."
"Equally foolish, the trolley problem, I choose to kill one because I have no morals."
An answer so sharp that it even chokes Batman, the simple, brutal, and bold people of this world are frightening.
"Even if that 'one' might be you someday?"
"I would rob power to prevent myself from being tied up; if I am unlucky enough, I would adjust my posture to derail the train that's about to kill me and let everyone die together, again because I have no morals."
Equally selfish and arrogant beyond reproach.
If a person has no morals, there are no moral dilemmas. Whoever drags me down should die. As long as I don't die, it doesn't matter who does. If I die, I will bring everyone down with me. If I don't die, I ridicule whoever does. A perfect logic loop in a moral vacuum.
"So, are you protecting all the 'human race'? Or just humans on this Earth?" Batman asked again.
"I am one with the humans on this Earth; I am them, and they are me." Strange did not hesitate at all.
"Do you think you represent them?"
"I'm not a party leader." Strange began to show signs of impatience, as if the person across him asked a stupid question.
"Are you trying to say, even if one human does not agree with me, I do not represent them, are you going to say that we should establish a Kamar-Taj opposition party, and then we take turns in power, so we can represent everyone's will, and that's real democracy?"
"There is no such democracy! I am one with humanity because there's no need for me to do these activities. Do you understand? I could let the Demon God plunder at will. It won't hurt me. My contribution is my stance, my justice is my democracy!"
A truly shocking speech, but Batman could still find loopholes in it. He was very good at these logic games and confident that no one could beat him.
"Of course, you wouldn't let it happen because you're also enjoying Earth's order; you're not just unilaterally giving and sacrificing." Batman pointed out.
"Of course, I'm not that noble."
"So your sacrifices aren't just in defense of public interest, but also in defense of private interests, so humanity does not owe you any gratitude."
"Of course."
The people in this universe have a frankness that confuses Batman. Whether the answer is affirmative or negative, they do not leave any room for interpretation; they don't understand the principle of leaving room for conversation.
"Then why..."
"Because I have no morals."
Closed loop again.
"I would not portray myself as a great man who always acts for the public good, whether you believe it or not. I don't care about reputation, and I don't care how people who are destroyed or survive because of my choices see me."
Strange leans forward, his elbow on his knee, looking into Stark's eyes, or you could say, into Batman's eyes.
"I do not sacrifice for certain people or things, do not pursue purpose and morality, but pursue a clear mindset and contentment. As long as I can convince myself, there's no need to try to convince anyone else."
Utterly subjective, it's easy to understand, so Batman said, "I get it." - but he actually already knew, knew better than anyone else.
They were like looking into a mirror, yet due to Batman's stronger and more extreme moral sense than anyone else, they were also like enemies.
After Batman left, Stark, who had listened to their conversation, was also thoughtful, but his thoughts were completely different from Batman's. He asked Strange, "So that's why The Ancient One could regain composure, without any guilt, even after destroying all the 'human race' on Earth?"
"That was an accident, but even if it wasn't, she would have. We're of the same kind, and that's the main reason she chose me."
"What if someday we..." Stark was as pessimistic as always.
"All we're doing is to prevent 'what if someday we' from happening." Strange emphasized.
"Isn't this gambling?"
"Yes, Shiller has been gambling from the start, and so have I. From The Holy Sanctuary to Asgard, from S.H.I.E.L.D. to Mutants, every time was a gamble. Even at the very beginning, we weren't at the top of humanity, neither had we the power or wisdom to represent ordinary people."
"But we never, not even for a second, hesitated about whether all of humanity agreed or not. We had no guilt about those who might have been sacrificed along the way and had no apology for the debris washed out in the tide of time."
"Why?"
"Because we don't have any morals... we must not have any morals."