After hanging up the phone, Charles closed his eyes, focused his attention, and within an instant, his brainwaves spread out, lighter than wind, and faster than light.
In Charles's vision, within a vast white space, countless voices echo around, gradually accumulating into more and more figures that touch the ground, gnarled together, with Charles watching all of it in mid-air.
Subsequently, this consciousness space began to expand, with more figures appearing in the white world. Charles intentionally directed his region to expand in a specific direction. He expected, just like before when he was reading others' memories, he would sift through innumerable people in the crowd to search for a man named Schiller Rodriguez.
But when Charles's brainwaves extended to the Manhattan area, in the boundless and eerily silent consciousness world, a towering skyscraper appeared in his vision.
Charles had never seen such a magnificent structure in this world before.
Upon triggering his ability, he noticed that beneath the material and real world, there lies another layer—a realm exclusive to consciousness and thought—what he now saw as the white space.
In this space, all sentient beings' thoughts count as a grain of sand, and Charles felt like a child on a beach, rummaging through the sand for seashells.
Whenever he intended to read a person's mind, that person would become a seashell on the beach. He would have to employ consciousness scanning to detect their thoughts and then establish a connection with them to achieve the so-called "mind-reading".
But now, as Charles glared at the majestic Tower of Babel before him, he felt as though it were a whale beached on the shore; not only was it countless times larger than the usual grains and seashells, it was also more vibrant—exuding a fascinating vitality.
Charles manifested himself in the space of consciousness and walked towards the towering skyscraper. Upon reaching the entrance, he discovered that all of it was more real and astonishing than what he had perceived from afar.
It was a grey tower, its brickwork bearing traces of Roman architecture, with eastern patterns on the walls. The arched entranceway seemed like an abysmal maw, every single decoration engraved with meticulous detailing.
Charles proceeded to knock on the door. With the accompaniment of a creaking sound, the substantial door opened slightly. As Charles had predicted, a cordial doctor, clad in a white lab coat and holding a clinical record, greeted him, "Hello, Professor Charles, I am Shearer, Schiller Rodriguez."
"Hello, Professor Rodriguez."
Charles glanced at the doorframe, noticing many intricate patterns carved into it. Many of these, he didn't recognize. Then he sighed in awe, "To think that we would meet in this manner; it truly amazes me…"
"Please come in, Professor Charles. Let's talk inside." Shearer nudged the door more open allowing Charles to enter. Immediately after stepping inside, there loomed a largely dim corridor, with wall lamps hung up. The dancing flames and elongating shadows made the surroundings appear both mysterious and hazy.
Following a walk of around ten meters or so, a bracingly open space finally awaited him - a circular fountain square unfolded before Charles's eyes. But what stole more attention were the multiple overlapping floors overhead.
Within Charles's sight, he could see several winding corridors and many staircases sprawling upwards. There also seemed to be countless people hustling back and forth, rendering the tower interior just like a bustling world, leaving Charles's eyes flitting everywhere.
Shearer led the way as they walked towards a staircase on the side of the wall. As they climbed, Shearer explained, "As you see, this is my Thought Palace. I knew you were coming to talk to me, so I thought I'd meet you here."
"I hope you won't misunderstand, Professor Shearer, but I don't mean to intentionally pry into your mind. Pardon me, but my mobility isn't the best; hence I couldn't manage to reach your place in time. Also, I wouldn't allow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents inside our school, hence I had to communicate with you this way…"
"It's alright, I don't mind. Unforeseen guests often barge in here without knocking. It usually takes a lot of my effort to handle them. However, I hugely appreciate you for entering through the front door."
For some reason, Charles had the notion that those intruders mentioned by Shearer likely ended up in a sticky predicament. He saw Shearer's warning in this statement.
Following Shearer's lead, they continued to ascend, and Charles noticed several Shearers bustling about in the corridor. He passed one Shearer, who wore a long coat and held a black umbrella. Shearer was on the phone.
"…So, the green-haired lunatic succeeded? Where is he now? He climbed 6 floors at once? …Very well, I'll navigate to the elevator operator soon…"
"What? The elevator broke down again? Why does it always happen when I take an off? This is absurd…"
Charles looked back at that somewhat different Shearer, only to be bumped into by another person. He saw a Shearer with a globelike head nodding at him, saying, "My apologies."
Following this, the globelike-headed Shearer also passed by Charles. Then came a suit-dressed Shearer, carrying a briefcase and marching briskly. A Shearer in sportswear jogged past…
After turning a corner, a cuboidal Shearer ran after his cylindrical head. Catching his head with a C-like hand, he fitted it onto his shoulder akin to a Lego assembly, intervening with his head occasionally, while simultaneously giving off a grinding sound.
Charles held his head, reeling with constant movement and watched these passing people. Shearer, who leads him, explained, "I apologize for the space constraints here. Since the elevator broke down, people need to use the stairs instead…"
Charles readied himself to ask something, but just then, Shearer stopped in front of a door and announced, "This is it."
Following his statement, he slid a key out and opened the door. Once inside, a waiting room filled with light sci-fi touch greeted them. The room boasted a white floor, wall tiles, ceiling, dim, cold wall lamps, and metallic tables and chairs. On the largest wall of the room, a projection kept playing images.
When Shiller walked in, he turned and handed the key to Charles. He said, "Professor Charles, in the coming time, we may need to communicate frequently, and so, I have built a reception room for you in my Thought Palace, here is the key."
"As long as you touch the key in the consciousness space, you will be teleported directly to this room without needing to walk through the main entrance."
Then Shiller pointed to a button on the wall and said: "This is the call button; if you press it, I will come to meet you."
"The reason for setting this up is because I'm usually busy and might not sense your arrival, so, as long as you ring the bell, I will appear."
At this point, Charles was not in a hurry, he walked into the room and sat down on the sofa.
But clearly, he seems uncomfortable with the sci-fi style hard sofa. He looked around. Seeing his expression, Shiller snapped his fingers, and in an instant, the room's décor receded and then transformed into another style.
The white walls turned into warm-colored panels and wallpapers, a soft large sofa was laid down, a warm carpet spread on the ground, the projector on the wall turned into a fireplace, and next to it, a wine rack was placed.
The English manor decorating style made Charles feel more relaxed. He said, "Sorry, I'm a bit old-fashioned, that new style is somewhat…"
"Actually, I am the same, I just didn't know what style you preferred. I thought mutants would prefer a more sci-fi style."
"Perhaps the kids at my school would. If they came to this room, they would scream in excitement, but I still feel that a simpler style is more comforting."
Shiller took a bottle of wine from the wine rack and sat on the sofa. He set two cups, poured wine for Charles and himself. Charles picked up the wine glass, looking at the clear wine, asked Shiller: "You must be a psychic too, right? Are you a mutant?"
"I'm just an ordinary man, Professor Charles."
Charles shook his head, clearly expressing his complete disbelief in Shiller's words. Shiller said, "Professor, I think you should also have in-depth research in psychology, have you heard of the 'Mind Palace' theory?"
"Mind Palace? Are you referring to the method of loci for memory? I've heard of it, but my research has nothing to do with it. Are you saying this is caused by the mind palace memory method?"
Charles looked around the room. Everything here felt too real.
"Indeed, but I don't want to deceive you. I admit, just a theoretical concept is not enough to create such a realistic mind world. I indeed have some special psychic abilities, but compared with your psychic abilities, it is not worth mentioning."
Charles seemed to stay silent. He did not have the intention of digging deeper, but fell into thought.
"Do you know, Professor Shiller? You've really surprised me." Charles looked at Shiller and said: "What surprised me is not just that you can build your mind world so magnificently, more importantly, I see a new possibility…"
"That's exactly why I invited you here." Shiller seemed to know what Charles wanted to say. He took a sip of his liquor, then put down his glass and said to Charles: "I've heard that you are the world's most powerful psychic with unparalleled great power."
"At the same time, I've also heard of your noble character. You refuse to use this powerful force to rule the world, and you never let anyone use this power to do evil. Please forgive me that I cannot express in words my admiration for this noble character."
"But as a psychologist who also does research in this area, I always believe that this ability can not only be used for destruction. It's most powerful part is creation, isn't it?"
Charles touched the transparent coffee table in front of him with his finger. The cool glass touch made him more sober. He nodded and said: "I agree with what you said. I once thought about creating my own mind world. I considered achieving things in there that I couldn't achieve…"
"But I'm not sure if indulging too much in my dreams is a good thing. After all, no matter how real a dream is, it's still a dream. Even if a beautiful dream makes me happy and joyous, when I return to the real world, hardship is still there."
"Instead, you might say that you feel somewhat guilty about immersing yourself in a beautiful dream, right?" Shiller asked Charles.
"Exactly, in fact, I know I can create a virtual world in my consciousness space. In there, I can do all the things I can't do in the real world, just like now. In the real world, I cannot walk smoothly with my legs, but I can here…"
"But if I'm fascinated by the beauty of dreams, then who will save those who are even less fortunate in the real world?"
"Professor Charles, I admire your sense of responsibility very much, but actually, dreams can do much more than that…"
"Have you ever thought about making dreams come true?"
Charles frowned, and Shiller continued: "Or to put it another way, when dreams are as real as reality, are they still dreams?"