```
Ultron rubbed his eyes, sighing as he said, "What's the purpose of this letter design that completely defies visual principles and aesthetic appreciation? Is it just to punch the reader's eyes?"
He looked again at the mass of black and red energy. Although he was a robot, he had to admit that the color combination of black background and red letters, topped with uppercase letters devoid of syntax and a wildly frayed font, was a bit premature for any intelligent lifeform with eyes.
"But what does it mean?" Ultron asked with some confusion. "It seems I've heard Dr. Anatoli's name mentioned before."
"That was my primary care physician in a past life."
"Wait, a past life? Then why would it recognize him?"
Shiller shook his head.
Ultron looked at Shiller with a hint of puzzlement, but seeing no signs of surprise, anger, or such emotions on his face, he probed, "Who sent this letter? What is he trying to convey?"
"Someone who's neither Batman nor the Joker, with unique aesthetics and an odd style. I don't know what it means for him to send the letter to me, but at least it proves one thing."
"What's that?"
"Anatoli isn't with him, otherwise, he wouldn't need me to send his regards."
"Uh, so what?"
"So we might as well pretend we never saw it," Shiller said with a shrug.
"But isn't that doctor a very important person? This guy who clearly has ill intentions mentioned his name. Are you sure it's not a problem?"
"I bet the problem isn't with the doctor," Shiller said with a smile. "If he really had a way with the doctor, why bother sending the letter to me? His tone sounds like he's finally found an easy target, perhaps thinking I would panic and call the doctor for help."
"Uh, wouldn't you?"
"First of all, if Dr. Anatoli exists in this world, and he hasn't come to find me after I've been here for so long, it means either he doesn't want to find me or he's too busy to find me."
"If it's the former, I won't be able to find him; if it's the latter, even if I do find him, he won't have time for me. So why should I go looking for him?"
The logic was impeccable, leaving Ultron at a loss for words. He scrutinized Shiller's expression more closely, but truly no trace of concern could be found.
This was Shiller's Tower of Thought, where his personality traits often revealed stronger emotions and were easier to understand—after all, there's no need to deceive oneself.
It seemed that Shiller genuinely wasn't worried, and Ultron started to grow curious about Shiller's past life story.
"Then what shall we do next?" Ultron asked, believing it was not the right time for inquiry and thus opted to change the subject.
"Of course, we continue with our plan."
"But it looks like the other side has gone through this whole array of plans just to get this thing in your hands. Your entire plan might be expected by them."
"Since everything is within his expectations, what's the point of changing plans? Even after changing, it would still be within his expectations. Who's going to pay me for the changed plans?"
True to form, Ultron was left without a comeback, so he could only ask, "So, what is the next step of the plan?"
"To tackle the biggest trouble we have right now. Let's go."
"I think we're in big trouble," Batman said, staring at the experimental apparatus. "How long have you had this metal?"
Batwoman hesitated slightly but then recalled, "I think it's been two years. However, whenever I've handled it, I've worn full protective gear, and later I sealed it in a radiation-proof container. That should be okay, right?"
"Should be okay? Where is it okay?" Batman, dressed in protective gear, scrutinized the metal in the container and asked, "Did you wear protective gear the first time you touched it?"
"My Bat Armor has radiation protection..."
"But this clearly isn't ordinary radiation, at least not ordinary radiation," Batman said, turning to Batwoman and adding, "This energy is chaotic and disorderly, but someone has forcibly coded it into order and turned it into material, giving it an excellent camouflage effect."
"You see metal, you believe it is metal. You know that metal is a material, so your assessment of its danger is limited to what metal can cause. But it's not metal at all, and the danger is far beyond that of metal."
Batwoman frowned at him and asked, "Are you saying I've been contaminated from the start?"
"I can prove it to you."
Batman activated the machine, manipulating the panel as he said, "I suppose you've done every kind of property test on it, but you've never treated it as a living thing for a biological test."
"That's pointless. The equipment for biological tests can't detect anything from metal…"
"It's not metal," Batman emphasized again, "It looks and feels like metal, even under a metal detector it gives results like metal, but it's not."
"Absurd," Batwoman remarked.
"Human cognition is limited," Batman replied without anger, and continued, "I guess you haven't had much contact with the mystic world, but unfortunately, its infiltration into your life might be much more than you imagine."
"Is that the answer given to you by that mysterious entity?"
Batman recalled his vision within the dense fog. It wasn't exactly an answer, rather abstract knowledge. Much of it wasn't hard to understand and even corresponded to the knowledge and theories he already knew, only more profound.
```
If Batman were to summarize, he would consider some of the views on radio waves quite innovative, which was also the inspiration for his current research.
Upon starting the machine, Batwoman saw a kind of radio frequency graph appear on the screen. She stepped forward, stared carefully at the image, and said, "What kind of fluctuation is this?"
"This is a biomagnetic signal, similar to human brain waves, but much weaker. Because it's so faint, it's hard to detect."
"It's precisely this signal that controls the metal to coalesce into its shape. Separate the signal, and it will revert to its original form."
With additional manipulation at the machine, Batwoman only heard a buzz as the graphic on the screen started to fluctuate violently, and the piece of metal floating in the instrument began to liquefy gradually.
Initially, it was a faintly golden black color, roughly the size of a fist, and overall pyramidal in shape. But soon, it melted away, shrinking, the golden hue vanished, replaced by a kind of blood red.
Quickly it turned into a small puddle of black and red intertwined liquid. Batwoman, wanting to get a closer look, was immediately pulled back by Batman.
"Don't go near. It's dangerous," Batman's expression turned more serious, and he said, "It's unlike anything we've encountered before, possessing a strong contaminating nature."
He turned around, looked seriously at Batwoman, and said, "You misjudged its nature, so all your protective measures are ineffective. Our current equipment struggles to observe what kind of contamination it has produced in you, but from external signs, the situation doesn't look good."
"We wouldn't have rashly handled an extraterrestrial object with just Bat Armor, would we?" Batman said. "If I didn't know its properties and wasn't fully prepared, I would rather leave it there until I'm certain that all danger could be ruled out before I would touch it."
Batwoman fell silent because she recalled that for most of her life, or to be precise, before she came into contact with this meteor, she had always acted this way, which could be described as the most conservative scientist in the world.
Yet now she couldn't remember her feelings when she touched the meteor, not very clear if it was her own volition.
"What are you planning to do?" Batwoman inquired.
"I surmise this object has mystical properties, but I do not think it wise to let Constantine handle it. It's too peculiar. Perhaps we should go directly to Doctor Sophocles."
"That man is probably not so easy to deal with," Batwoman followed Batman out and said, "He fits my definition of a charlatan dabbling in the mysterious. He's hidden too many secrets."
"That's precisely why we must seek him out," Batman said as he took off his protective gear, "Among the secrets he's hiding may be the answer we're looking for, and as for the price... he'll make sure we can afford it."
The two of them arrived in Oxford as quickly as possible, where the other party seemed to have been waiting for a long time.
Batwoman appeared somewhat displeased and said, "If you're going to tell me that you saw I had a problem and were waiting here, I won't call you a prophet. I'll think you're playing hard to get and looking to raise your price."
Batman didn't intervene, thinking that during negotiations, one must maintain a degree of aggressiveness to minimize the chance of the other party inflating their prices.
Sophocles responded, "Although I'm sorry, I wasn't waiting for you. What brings you here this time?"
"So you can't tell?" Batwoman asked with a hint of confusion.
"What do you hope I can see?" Sophocles counter-asked, then stood up and said, "I don't know if the person who brought you here told you, but I'm a scholar, not a magician. I don't summon spirits or perform exorcisms. Maybe you should go find Constantine."
"He won't either," Batman said confidently, then added, "Then do you know who can solve her problem?"
"I can't see any problem with this lady, so naturally I can't answer your question."
"Then do you know who can see her problem?"
Sophocles took out the tarot card and said, "The mystic world has its own rules, and you can't contact other beings in a short time. You can still only ask for his help."
A wisp of fog appeared on the tarot card, no longer empty, and Batman looked up at Sophocles and asked, "Why did the card face change?"
"The clearer it gets, the closer it is," Sophocles gave a chilling answer.
"Then this inquiry..."
"I think it may not be necessary, but let there be no next time."
Batman turned to look at Batwoman, who stepped forward with some hesitation and raised her hand. Looking back at Batman, he nodded at her.
Batwoman placed her fingers on the card.
In an instant, the sound of the wind swept past her ears, and a dense fog appeared suddenly; she vaguely saw a huge sun in the depths of the fog, but it was too distant to discern any detail.
A figure stood deep within the fog, and Batwoman heard the other party say, "We need help, the Legion is about to spiral out of control."
"I can help you, but can you help me?"
"What's your problem?"
"Someone said I've been contaminated."
"...I'm afraid that's indeed the case."
"Can you tell what's contaminating me?"
The other party was silent for a long time.
"Blood, a kind of blood."