In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Schiller stood next to the hospital bed, where a patient without arms lay unconscious. Dr. Connors adjusted the equipment and said, "The medicine that the military injected into them is not perfect and could potentially harm their nervous system."

He sighed and said, "It's uncertain whether he will wake up."

"Was he your former comrade?" asked Schiller.

"No, I never saw him on the battlefield, but he was still my comrade. We both held the same belief and went to the battlefield," replied Connors.

Stark stood silently on the other side of the bed. He was sensitive to the emotions of others, but he felt that Connors was calm, as calm as the sea before a storm.

Stark wondered if he would resort to any means necessary to get revenge on those who caused him pain and anger if he were in the patient's shoes.

Stark never imagined that he would one day stand in his opponent's position and think from their perspective.

This perspective shocked him because he realized that the so-called "bad guys" he once thought of could not do any better than him if they were in his shoes.

This was something that Stark never anticipated. He always thought that he was invincible, but he now realized that his arrogance was perhaps built on a vacuum created by others.

During this time, he experienced firsthand the difficulties of dealing with everything on his own without Pepper's care or Obadiah's protection.

On the one hand, he struggled to take care of himself, and on the other hand, he had to navigate through various forces, learning the deceitful methods that he once despised and using them even though he didn't want to.

It wasn't until this moment that Stark realized that he had been living in a cradle. Even though he had lived for so many years, he had only just recently stepped out of the crib and taken his first steps into the real world.

Schiller asked, "What do you plan to do? Although Robert is dead, not all of the military officers of the Tartu faction have disappeared. They have always believed in their super soldier theory, and once they discover that the Desperate Plan's information has leaked, they will do everything in their power to eradicate it."

"After all, if the information you possess is exposed, it could shake the prestige of the entire military system. Even if they are not officers of the Tartu faction, they will not allow such a thing to happen."

"I've been ready for a long time," Connor said. "I've been ready to be silent."

"What do you think I'll do? Avoid the military and try to get this information out there?" Connor shook his head. "I've known for a long time that it's useless."

"These people always find a way to make ordinary people believe what they should believe and erase everything they shouldn't believe. Even if I can make some people believe it's true, people are forgetful."

"Like what we've experienced before. When we went to the battlefield, everyone applauded and called us heroes. But when we came back, the cold eyes and discrimination we suffered didn't get any better because of the past glory."

"We disappeared from this society for a short time, and they forgot about us. Forgetting is a terrible thing. It can turn white into black and erase all the heavy sins of the past."

"I will continue to wait. I have waited for a long time and I am not afraid to wait longer."

"When it's impossible for them to erase my name from history, then I will reveal everything."

Connor's tone was calm, but everyone could feel a kind of power from his tone, perhaps the precipitation of anger and the condensation of revenge flames.

Late at night, when Schiller was about to go to bed, he received a call from Stark. Stark said, "I want to make an appointment for two hours of psychological therapy now."

"Are you trying to make me scold you again?"

"I'm serious, I'll pay for the therapy fee."

"You also have to pay for the last one."

Stark was a bit speechless. He stomped his foot and said, "I'm on your rooftop right now. If you don't come up, I'll have J.A.R.V.I.S. activate emergency wake-up measures."

After a while, Schiller stood at the edge of the rooftop, and Stark was standing next to him in his Mech armor. Schiller asked, "Has anyone ever told you that whenever you come out in the middle of the night wearing Mech armor, it's like writing the words 'I'm an unwanted stray dog' on your face?"

"I'll say it again, I spend money on therapy, not on being scolded."

"Then I'll say it again, other people don't get scolded because they don't demand two hours of therapy from a psychologist at 2 a.m."

"I'll pay you overtime, whatever amount you want."

"It seems like you can only use this Mech armor and the fact that you're rich to cover up the fact that you're actually feeling very insecure right now."

Stark fell silent.

"Every time you come to see me in your Mech armor, it's like you're telling me that you're in a difficult situation."

"No wonder you keep raising your prices."

Stark hesitated for a moment, but then opened his face mask and said, "Do you think I should do something? I mean... about what's happening with Connors. I don't like the military's plan, and as a hero of justice, shouldn't I teach those inhumane demons a lesson?"

"If you want to help Connors, just say so."

"I'm not trying to help him. How could I want to help that big lizard that messed up my building?"

"I just want to uphold justice. I think anyone who sees that plan would want to do the same, right?"

"You can admit it, Connors' actions have shocked you quite a bit. Haven't you ever thought about how one person can keep waiting in this darkness, waiting for a day of light that may or may not come?"

"You see, his way of upholding justice seems different from yours. In this world, it's not about putting on an iron suit and boldly attacking criminals to uphold justice."

"You're actually struggling with this."

"Okay, I admit..." Stark sighed softly, closed his eyes, and said, "I don't dare to imagine what kind of belief he holds to keep burying himself in researching those medicines. When he's alone in the laboratory, doesn't he feel hopeless? Doesn't he feel helpless?"

"When I face those pressures, even with a genius brain and the entire Stark Industries, the world's largest wealth, I still feel... it's really hard to endure. No one accompanies you, fighting alone, not knowing when it will end."

Stark's Adam's apple moved, and he said, "From the time Connors learned about this plan to when he developed the lizard serum, it would take at least a few years, right? Did he just live like this all the time? Hasn't he gone crazy living in this environment?"

Stark had experienced this despair. When Obadiah was in a coma and Pepper was busy trying to save the company, Stark spent those nights and days alone in the laboratory, where loneliness was like a black tide pouring out from the abyss. Stark could only rely on alcohol to numb himself, so as not to think about when his lonely boat would finally reach the shore.

But he knew that Dr. Connors had been drifting like this for several years. Compared to Stark, who still had some hope, Dr. Connors didn't even have a boat. He was holding onto a rotting plank and drifting in the stormy sea for countless days and nights. He knew that this vast ocean may not have a shore, but he still refused to give up.

It was because Stark had experienced this kind of loneliness that he knew how difficult it was to endure. He also realized that no matter how high his intelligence was, he couldn't brew a cure for this kind of suffering. He didn't have any sense of superiority to despise people who struggled in this kind of suffering.

"I think you always call yourself Peter's elder, which is true in terms of age, but perhaps not in some ways."

"What does that mean? I am his elder, and I went to his school's parent-teacher conference a few days ago."

"I mean, maybe in some ways, you should also learn from him."

"Learn from him? That stupid kid?" Stark sneered and said, "What do I have to learn from him? Learn to be afraid of a smart-mouthed jerk he beat up? If it were me, Stark dad would definitely show that trash who's boss..."

"The reason I mentioned Peter is because there's another name you'd rather not hear."

Stark opened his mouth and said, "I'll go ask Peter then. As for your other suggestion, you don't need to give it, or else I'll deduct money."

After finishing his words, he closed the faceplate of his armor with a click, and then flew away directly, leaving Schiller shaking his head.

He thought that the growth process of these superheroes was like a rich scroll unfolding before his eyes.

When he personally participated in this process, he realized that these people were indeed superheroes, but they were also ordinary people. Whether it was Peter or Stark, Spider-Man or Iron Man, their transformation couldn't be shown in just a few frames or lines of dialogue, and their growing pains were like a tangled mess that couldn't be sorted out or fully expressed.

Their mood swings, emotional changes, every moment of wavering, every moment of determination, were filled with complex and mysterious thoughts, just like the subtle changes that every ordinary person's brain brought to them, countless and immeasurable.

This also made Schiller understand that the moving stories, heroic sacrifices, and unwavering beliefs he had seen in movies and comics were not inherent.

These superheroes were like a piece of steel that had been hammered and forged a thousand times. Schiller could see the process of their forging, the sound and vibration produced by every strike, the flames rising from the fierce collisions, like the fuel that fills the soul to maintain its vitality, bringing them more excitement than ordinary life could provide.

Until one day, the hearts of the heroes turned into glittering gold, and these painstaking processes were written into legendary stories.

If the people who read these stories saw the glorious and great side of the heroes, then Schiller, as a reader deeply immersed in the stories, would rather remember the small and trivial growing pains of these heroes.

Recording their laughter, anger, scolding, sorrow, joy, and separation as ordinary people, until one day, after those stories that were sung had been forgotten, traces of unsung heroes still remained in this world.

Leaving behind the answer that greatness is born from ordinariness and will eventually return to ordinariness.

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