At the desolate end of time, a dry wind sweeps across the barren land, stirring the colorful flags on a tent. Inside, Strange and Shiller sit opposite each other.
It is primarily Shiller who is staring at Strange. The latter calmly sips his tea. Once his cup is empty and he starts to brew a new pot of tea, Strange finally asks, "Why are you still here?"
"If you weren't here, why would I be?"
"I didn't tie you up." Strange pours the boiling water from the pot; suddenly the tent is filled with the fragrance of tea. Picking up the teacup, he takes a gentle sniff and says, "You can return to Earth and carry on with your plans, with their hundreds of interlocking elements."
"And then behind my back, you're going to chop off your other hand? Why on earth would you think I would give up on trying to restore your hand?"
"Because you genuinely can't restore it. Even if you could, I could just cut it off again unless you stay here forever keeping an eye on me."
"And you say you haven't kidnapped me?"
Strange tilts his head slightly, choosing to remain silent and continues on with his third cup of tea.
And so it went, hours passed, with Shiller trying to engage Strange in conversation several times. Strange, for the most part, responds vaguely. When asked about restoration, he insists it's impossible and threatens to cut his hand again if it was ever restored.
"Well, you do realize that you haven't successfully restrained me, right?" an irritated Shiller retorts. He then takes out a notebook and a pen, pinches the pen between two fingers, and raises it to say,
"You're right, I should indeed be concerned about my intricate plans. Even if I have to stay here and watch you, I can plan for a hundred thousand years into the future. That can't be considered a waste of time."
With that, Shiller buries his head in his note-taking. Strange takes a quick look at what he's writing, and then averts his eyes.
At the end of time, time itself ceases to exist. Shiller has lost track of how long he has been writing. By the time he straightens up once more, he feels a bit of a soreness in his waist.
He adjusts his posture, stretches, yawns, and picks up his notebook, which is now several pages long, filled with scribbles about his plan. After scanning it once more, he nods in satisfaction.
"Did you know, Steven; although I always tell every one of them, 'you have understood all of my plans,' the truth is, no one so far has fully understood them."
Strange responds by raising an eyebrow, but Shiller looks at him dissatisfied, "You don't have to pretend to act if you can't. Your feigned curiosity is too fake."
"Alright then, do I have the honor, Dr. Rodriguez, of hearing your complete plan?"
"Just going through the motions," Shiller critiques.
He flips through his notebook, saying, "Nevertheless, I still intend to tell you because sitting here watching you drink tea is unbearable. If you are willing to reveal the hiding place of your hand, it would be an even better trade-off."
"That's not going to happen, but I'm eager to hear the details."
Shiller flips to the first page of his notebook, and starts, "When making a plan, I like to include all the short-term goals and then rank them according to their importance. Typically, it's the big things first, then the small. Everything from the macrocosm of cosmic conditions to personal psychological health is written down meticulously."
"From these objectives, I identify the most critical problems and work out a perfect solution for each. All these perfect solutions are then linked together, forming a complete plan with the relationships between the people and events involved."
"Ordinarily, I rank my targets from biggest to smallest, but when explaining, it is naturally explained from small to big because my plans, like dominoes, are triggered link by link from small to big."
"Firstly, I consider ordinary people as regular units and superheroes as special units. Ensuring the physical and psychological health of the special units is a long-term job, hence it always appears on my objective lists."
"Over several years, I have made all the superhero units, including you, schedule regular checkups for their mental conditions, also known as the psychological evaluations mandated by S.H.I.E.L.D."
Shiller gently twirls his pen between his index and middle finger and continues, "From the latest psychological evaluation reports, some have severe issues, most notably Peter. His stress levels are extremely high, almost reaching the level of mild anxiety."
"The key is that he thinks his relationship with Gwen will not gain George's, Gwen's father, approval. He worries that if their relationship goes public, they will both get hurt."
"Next is Tony. His relationship with Pepper has reached a turning point, but he lacks the confidence to enter the next stage of his life. He always has a tendency to evade long-term, steady relationships requiring commitment."
"Furthermore, he and Helen have developed father-daughter feelings, but he feels it's not fair to Pepper and is unsure of her attitude. So, his symptoms of anxiety are somewhat recurring."
"Finally, we have Steve. He doesn't have any major issues but feels slightly awkward dealing with Carter's identity issue. This has made him hesitant in confronting his feelings, worrying that Carter might end up getting hurt."