"Natasha... Natasha, are you there?" Steve knocked on the door of the S.H.I.E.L.D. office, and after a mont, a rather beautiful female agent erged. Taking two steps back, Steve said, “Oh, Agent Carter, is Natasha around? I need to speak with her.”
“She's in the psychological counseling room,” replied the agent known as Carter, pointing to the other end of the hallway before walking off with her coffee.
Watching her departing figure, Steve felt montarily captivated, but he quickly rembered his purpose and headed towards the S.H.I.E.L.D. psychological services.
Just as he was approaching, he saw Natasha stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. Surprisingly, the female agent looked sowhat haggard, with a trace of unresolved helplessness on her face.
“Hey, Natasha, I wanted to ask, what's been going on with Schiller lately? It's like he's developed amnesia or sothing, he's called in for a check-up dozens of tis these last few days—I'm starting to think I’ve contracted so terminal disease…”
“And Tony, he's been to Arkham Sanatorium countless tis recently, he... I an... I'm not worried about him, I'm just wondering if sothing's wrong?”
Before Natasha could answer, her communication device chid in. After answering, she said, “Office 3 on the second floor, got it. I’ll be right there…”
“Sorry, Captain, I have work now. Maybe you can co back later.”
With that, Natasha strode off. Steve was about to follow when the door to the psychological counseling room opened, and Schiller erged. Noticing Steve, he remarked, “Captain? What brings you here? I thought you moved out. Anyway, perfect timing, co in and take a psychological test to see how you're holding up.”
“Uh... I’ve already done three sets yesterday… Okay, don’t be mad, I’ll do it now.” Steve sighed and reluctantly followed Schiller into the room.
Doctor Schiller had an authoritative air about him, reminding Steve of his childhood visits to the dentist. Knowing that continuing the tests wouldn’t yield any new results, he still didn’t dare contradict Schiller.
After another hour, Steve finished his 26th psychological evaluation of the week, and with consistent results as before, he left the room looking weary just as he ran into Stark.
“Natasha, you around?” Stark called out in the hallway. Suddenly, he turned his head to see Steve exiting the room, examined him top to bottom, and upon seeing his tired appearance, smirked with a touch of schadenfreude.
Steve offered a forced smile, brushed past Stark with a bump of his shoulder.
Stark pulled a face at him and was about to mock when Schiller stepped out of the room and said, “Oh, Stark, what are you doing here? Good timing, co and take a test to see if your anxiety has improved…”
“Hey, wait! I just finished one yesterday! Do you an to say my symptoms weren’t identified after three sets of tests?”
“Hey, don’t pull ! Even if you want to make money off consultations, you can't treat a non-existent illness!... I'm really not sick, let go of …”
Steve chuckled at the irony and continued down the staircase. Reaching the first floor, he ran into Agent Carter again. They walked together and engaged in a lively conversation until Carter reached her destination. With a smile, she said:
“I never imagined we’d have so much in common, Captain. Unfortunately, I need to grab so docunts from the next office and take them to the sixth floor. It might be a bit presumptuous, but could you wait here for a mont? Once I'm done with my task, we can grab a cup of coffee.”
“Of course, Miss Carter. It's been a while since I've had such an enjoyable conversation. You go ahead with your work; I'll wait right here.”
Carter left with a radiant smile, and Steve sat on a bench in the hallway, flipping through a magazine until she returned. Then they went to the coffee shop next to the S.H.I.E.L.D. canteen.
They had a pleasant ti drinking coffee, chatting, and having afternoon tea. Later, Carter had to leave for fieldwork, and Steve, sowhat reluctantly, bade her goodbye. They agreed to et again the next day, and Steve prepared to leave.
However, as he crossed the first-floor lobby, he encountered Schiller again. Hurrying over, Schiller said, “Captain, what are you doing here? Just the person I needed. Let’s finish up the tests.”
“Uh, no! Wait a minute! I just completed them, an hour ago…”
“But there's always another set. Co on, for the sake of your ntal health, it's critical. If you would please follow …”
Steve felt trapped in a never-ending loop, wondering if this was so sort of surreal dream or perhaps another ploy by Schiller. As he contemplated, he followed Schiller back to the psychological counseling room, already familiar with the route.
The door closed, and another round of testing began.
After much struggle, he selected an answer he believed to be correct. However, looking back, he realized that other situations might occur, prompting him to want to change my previous answer.
This was an extrely draining process, both ntally and physically, and it often led to pondering whether this world was truly worth the effort.
Erging from the psychological clinic once more, night had fully set in. Steve, dragging his weary body, walked down the corridor and encountered an even more exhausted Natasha.
Natasha was too tired to speak with Steve. She simply gestured to him with a wave of her hand, to which Steve nodded in acknowledgnt. They passed by each other in silence, speechless.
Upon reaching the lobby on the first floor, Steve saw a similarly haggard Stark sitting on a bench, hand covering his forehead, deep in contemplation about life.
Steve sat down next to him, and Stark straightened up, leaned back in his chair, and looking upward, said, "I must be hallucinating..."
"Hallucinations? What kind of hallucinations?" Steve inquired.
"Just now, I saw three Schillers co and go from S.H.I.E.L.D. My anxiety must have reached a point beyond redy..." Stark lanted.
Steve's eyes widened as he raised his voice, "Three Schillers??? It seems you really are hallucinating!"
Stark closed his eyes, weariness etched on his face, and murmured, "Thank goodness for Schiller. He sacrificed days to treat —going back and forth between Arkham Sanatorium, S.H.I.E.L.D., Stark Tower... He must have made dozens of trips..."
"Wait, he's been treating you these past few days?" Steve turned to Stark, puzzled, "But he's been checking on dozens of tis these past days..."
Stark gave Steve a weary look, "If you're trying to trick , now's not the ti..."
"I'm not lying!" Steve insisted earnestly, "These past days, I've been traveling to and from Arkham Sanatorium, taking countless tests..."
"Good heavens, too! When did you see Schiller yesterday?" Stark inquired.
"From ten to half-past twelve..." Steve replied.
"Impossible! Yesterday at eleven in the morning, Schiller was at Stark Tower giving psychological treatnt—that was scheduled by Pepper, even with appointnt records..." Stark stood abruptly, and Steve followed suit, both sensing that sothing was amiss.
"Combat suit!" Stark exclaid loudly.
Swiftly, a ch armor flew in. Stark donned his combat suit and commanded JARVIS to bring up the surveillance from Stark Tower, projecting it onto a screen before Steve.
The light from the footage made it clear that Schiller had indeed entered Stark Tower's door at eleven o'clock the previous morning.
"Could I be hallucinating too?" Steve pondered in confusion, "I left Arkham Sanatorium at exactly half-past twelve; I couldn't have rembered it wrong..."
Suddenly, both n paused, exchanging glances. Stark began, "Could it be that..."
Steve quickly followed, "...there are two Schillers??"
After voicing this conclusion, they froze montarily, then Stark swiftly flew towards the door, with Steve running out as well.
They hurried to the Avengers' base and sent out a signal to all mbers.
Peter was the first to arrive. The Space Captain had gone to inquire with Eternity and hadn't returned; he went to his Space first to prevent his family from worrying.
Soon after, Matt, Erica, and Eric the Vampire Hunter arrived one after another. Stark, standing before the table, announced, "I have potentially shocking news. Today, Steve Rogers, Captain Arica, and I saw three Schillers at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base!"
"Three???" Peter's voice rose, and then he covered his mouth.
By this ti, Stark and Steve had turned to look at him, discerning shock in his tone, but it seed directed at the number, not the situation itself.
"What's going on, Peter? Do you know sothing?" Stark pressed.
"If sothing had happened to Schiller, Peter would definitely know—he deals with Schiller the most," Matt interjected.
Stark and Steve kept their gaze fixed on Peter, who wore a troubled expression and said, "Three Dr. Schillers... perhaps he's co up with so clone magic. It's not that astonishing, is it?"
Stark scoffed, "Peter, you're still too naive, not realizing the gravity of this. If there are three Schillers, it ans..."
Steve smoothly continued, "...that unseen by us, there must be countless more."
With that, he stood up, looked around the room, and with a tap of his shield on the table, declared:
"Avengers, assemble!"
[Schiller is a cosmic level threat now... XD]
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