In the Kamar-Taj meditation room, the serious conversation was finally interrupted. Strange closed the black notebook and placed it back in the middle of the two of them. Then, he pointed at the cover with his finger and asked, "Who do you think is explaining all of this to us?"
"I know what you want to ask." Stark blocked his mouth with a glass of wine, leaned back in chair, and said, "Everything that has happened before. The intruder at the Asgard Technology Exposition, the sudden membership gift, the Mandarin and his ten rings, the chaotic children, and more..."
"Everything happened without any warning and then suddenly exploded, catching everyone by surprise. The motive, the method, and the harvest of each event are messy like a ball of yarn, so you must be thinking of a name—Shiller."
Strange didn't respond but made it clear by his silence that he thought the same. It was obvious.
If you wanted to know every messy detail in the universe—where chaos has erupted, what's missing and what's extra, who killed who, who collaborated with whom, who held a wedding or a funeral, where drums were played and where bells were sounded—the answer to all of these questions was simple: seek Shiller.
This was not only the consensus of the Luminous Alliance but was also gradually becoming the consensus of all superheroes on Earth. Even Matt decided to seek Shiller at the clinic first. Who else could be expected not to do so?
Seeing the certainty on Strange's face, Stark portrayed a complex expression. Strange stared at Stark's face and squinted his eyes. Before he could ask, Stark spoke up.
"I know you all suspect Shiller, but he has an alibi."
"Who?"
"Me."
As Stark began to describe, the story took us back to about two weeks prior. Stark, who had been staring at a device in his laboratory, felt a sudden urge. The voice of another soul appeared in his mind, but he had grown accustomed to it.
"Nal has disappeared."
It was Batman's voice. The wrist of Stark's hand holding the pen paused. He twirled the pen in his hand and said, "It doesn't matter. We have pretty much finished our research on him, and he is of no use to us."
After speaking, Stark stood up, pulled down the Venetian blinds by the window. After being away from Jarvis for so long, he had finally acquired some self-care skills, at least he figured out how to pull down and close the blinds.
"Who do you think did this?"
"Who else could it be?"
Batman seemed somewhat silent for a while. But after some time, he said: "The Shiller you know is different from the one I know."
"But they are essentially the same." Stark spoke without hesitation. He threw the pen back into the tin, maybe in a failed attempt, but he didn't care. He walked over to the cabinet that held the small devices and, using the reflection in the glass door, straightened his shirt. Then he picked up his coat and put it on.
"Are you really going to look for him now?"
"What else?"
Batman fell into silence again. He appeared to have mixed opinions about Stark's spontaneous action. But as Stark was about to walk out the door, Batman said, "Aren't you bringing him a gift?"
"I'm just going to ask him about his plans. Why would I need to bring a gift?" Stark asked, not understanding.
"Do you think he will tell you the truth if you barge in like this?"
"Even if I don't barge in, he wouldn't tell me the truth."
Batman fell silent again. As Stark walked out, he casually lifted his hand and said, "Well, all the beating around the bush is pointless. I spend at least 200 million dollars a year on my mental health. Pepper and Obadiah can testify. Isn't that more polite than just handing over a bottle of wine?"
Batman didn't say anything, but his attitude signaled that he was not in agreement. While Stark was getting onto his shuttle, he said, "From what you're telling me, you must know of a Shiller who is quite different from the one I know, probably someone who is very mindful of manners."
"For the Shiller I know, if I barge in, holding a bottle of red wine that would be super expensive for anyone but me, he would certainly add a significant amount to my mental health budget to treat my social maladjustment caused by my anxiety."
"Suit yourself." Batman could only say that.
The shuttle quickly landed at Arkham Sanatorium, but the receptionist at the front desk told Stark that Shiller wasn't there. Stark gloated and said, "See, I knew it. He's probably studying Nal, which explains Shiller's mysterious disappearance—he must be on a so-called vacation. Soon, there will be a series of complicated plans that give me a headache, I know him too well."
"Are you planning on stopping him?"
"Of course not. Most of his plans are beneficial. He can weave many complex matters into threads, align them with the same purpose and then break them down into different small objectives, accomplishing them all at once."
"To be honest, this seems miraculous to me. Regardless of whether it's beneficial to me or to humanity, or even to the Nine Major Kingdoms, it's not a bad thing, and it could actually be considerably beneficial."
"But to some extent, I have to stop him, because he's recklessly draining himself in the process of completing this plan. Before, I couldn't comprehend his complex series of plans, couldn't find the right time to intervene, and was afraid of messing things up if I tried to interfere. But now, things are different,"
In Stark's mind, Batman conveyed an affirmative thought in the tone of a straightforward statement: "You grab one thread, and I can unravel everything."
"Thank you, buddy, if you weren't as rich as me, I'd definitely be willing to spend a lot of money to hire you as my staff." Stark said with a frivolous whistle.
"Better save it for your mental health management fees."
Stark didn't mind Batman's unique cold humor at all.
Both of them were in a very strange situation. They should be the least favorite kind of people for each other - for Batman, Stark was too emotional, always adding too much inspiration into his careful calculations and deductions, disregardingly lowering efficiency, unable to take care of himself, and living a messy private life. He smoked, drank, and frequented bars – a complete playboy.
For Stark, Batman was like an old pedant – living life in a dull, passionless routine, paranoid, obsessive about details, believing that sparks of inspiration only delayed the efficiency of getting things done, pursuing absolute rationality, and always loving to crack cold jokes.
Such two people would indeed find it hard to get along. However, miraculously, during the time when they shared one body, neither of them restrained their faults. They even took the initiative to allow them to stand out.
Stark hadn't been drunk in a long time. That was just his previous manifestation of escaping from reality due to anxiety disorder. But lately, he has been enjoying a small drink after experiments, letting alcohol numb his brain, and to some extent, numb Batman's brain too. Or he would throw himself into a deafening dance floor, swinging his body to his heart's content.
Batman's OCD became more and more severe– every pen, every piece of paper had to be placed in their designated positions. On each page of the calendar, different symbols pointed to different passwords, which then pointed to different actions. He memorized every face they had ever seen, remembered even the smallest details of everyone's appearance and behavior, and classified and stored them accordingly. All the details of life were neatly arranged, day after day.
They experienced two completely different lifestyles in one person's time: hedonistic and pedantic, relaxed and rigorous, leisurely and tense.
Iron Man, and Batman, were also not completely free from societal judgments. In Justice League, Batman couldn't allow himself to get drunk, because he provided hope for everyone. In The Avengers, Iron Man couldn't appear too tense, because it would make everyone tense.
Things that they couldn't do or wouldn't think of doing due to upholding their image and identity when they controlled their own bodies, could be done freely when they shared one body.
Those who were tense would experience relaxation, and those who were casual would experience rigor. This compensated for the gaps in their social identities and psychological needs, making their mental state more stable and their actions more wholesome.
On some level, Batman and Iron Man understood why Shiller divided himself into so many pieces. When you separate all the facets of personality and let them dominate different periods of life according to their strengths, you can adapt to society more perfectly and heal yourself inwardly.
At present, Batman and Iron Man are exploring. If they are two figures of the same person, they are figuring out how to allocate their strengths to better adapt to life. It's Stark's turn when inspiration is needed, and it's Batman's turn when deduction is needed. There are still more trivial levels of life to be taken care of.
When they shared a body, they could sense each other's thoughts and soul fluctuations very well. So, when they separated, they could learn from each other's ways of problem-solving in that period of time: relax when it's time to relax, be tense when it's time to be tense.
Batman and Iron Man both have almost the same level of wisdom. Hence, they don't have to worry about their brains rusting when the other takes over the body, or being stuck due to lack of intelligence and unable to carry on the work of the previous person smoothly. Their thought-connecting flow is seamless and fast, as natural as it can be.
There is no better opportunity in this world for another you – of equal wisdom and understanding ability, complementary personality strengths and weaknesses – to teach you how to compensate for your shortcomings and amplify your strengths in your mind. They both understood this, so they treasured this time very much.
"Are you really not planning to prepare a gift?"
After Stark was back on the shuttle, Batman brought up old arguments and explained some of his thoughts in a rare speech: "If it wasn't for Shiller, I wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't be working together."
"You want to express your gratitude to him with a gift? That's so old-fashioned." Stark shook his head and said, spreadding his hands: "The moment I see him, I'll give him a big hug. Isn't that enough?"
Batman fell into contemplation, feeling very absurd. Physical contact was not gratitude but torture for him. Thoughts about "what exactly is on the other person?" and "what are the consequences of hugging him?" would probably torment him for about a week.
"Okay, let me give you a demonstration." Stark, indifferent, worked his shoulders a bit, watched the shuttle stable at the door of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Training Academy. The receptionist just told them that Shiller was teaching a class here.
Stark checked his watch and found they had arrived right on time. Shiller should be just finishing a lesson, so he tightened his coat, took off his sunglasses, and walked inside with smooth and flowing steps.
He pushed open the classroom door, walked down the steps with a brisk pace, oblivious to the students streaming past him. Stark called out to Shiller, went up to him and hugged him hard, and then said.
"I just went to the sanatorium to find you, but you weren't there. They said you were teaching a class here. How's the class?"
"Not bad, what's up?"
"Nothing, just wanted to say thank you."
"Oh, you're welcome. Heading to the cafeteria?"
"Sure."
Batman felt that he still had a long way to go to achieve wholesome behavior.