Chương 527: Chapter 360 Glorious Light_3

Stark revealed a look of disdain. By this time, the Panther God had already leaped to T'Challa's side. He again infused T'Challa's form with that peculiar power of his. Yet, barely a moment passed before the Panther God looked down, seemingly perplexed, at his own claws.

Noticing the Panther God's actions, Stark realized something was wrong. He quickly rushed forward, kneeling down to check on T'Challa's condition.

Given T'Challa's dark skin, it was impossible to visually assess his condition. Stark opened a device on the arm of his suit and inserted a probe into T'Challa's body, using his other hand to initiate the scanner.

As soon as the scanner activated, Jarvis blared an alarm. "Warning! Warning! Life-threatening situation. Unidentified toxin being decoded... decoding unsuccessful..."

"Collect blood sample for analysis."

"Analysis underway... no results." Jarvis explained, "Based on the data, this is not a toxin associated with any known human affliction. Its composition is unknown and being resisted by a mysterious power. A high-powered device may be needed for decoding..."

Soon after, Jarvis alarmed twice more, stating, "Immediate medical treatment is required, or death may be imminent..."

Stark slammed his fist onto the floor. As he stood up, he reached towards the energy core in his chest, ready to swap it for a higher-powered one to aggressively unlock the toxin's composition.

At this moment, the Panther God flicked his tail. T'Challa instantly vanished and with a sweep of his claw against the ground, they all returned to his realm. Shiller looked around and asked the Panther God, "Did you stop time here?"

The Panther God grunted low, and walked over to where T'Challa had been. From his panther-like face emerged an expression of thought that closely resembled that of a human.

"Looks like more of that mysterious mumbo-jumbo," Stark said, tilting his head towards Shiller. "You must have heard what that man was shouting, right?... 'Helada.'"

Stark turned his gaze toward the horizon, where an endless prairie stretched out, a primitive horn echoing from the distance. The light and shadow upon this ancient land rolled before his eyes.

With a somber tone, Stark spoke, "In the grand scheme of the cosmos, no one is omniscient, nor omnipotent. But from countless stories I've seen, this name has surfaced countless times like a malignant cancer festering upon the Earth."

"I never asked about that before because I thought that your choice of behavior must mean you've found your own answers. But now I have to ask: did you see your parents..."

"I did see them." Stark directly confronted this question for the first time. He continued, "...but not just my own parents. Thousands, if not millions, of parents died instantaneously at the end of various stories."

The voice of Stark sank deeper, like the whisper of the wind sweeping inches above the wilderness.

"They left no substantial inheritances, nor anything essential for their children's survival. They merely faded away without a sound."

Stark seemed dazed, as if recalling these scenes. He said, "...No last words, no mementos, not even a cause of death. No one left to explain to those children why their parents died…"

The blinding sunlight on the prairie made Stark squint. His vision blurred in the light, and he said, "It's absurd, but these tragedies stopped me."

"In the moment that I was about to become the last one standing, I discovered the truth about Howard's death. At that instant I wished to freeze that state forever and obliterate everyone involved. I know that had I acted that way, no one would have been able to escape…"

"In a blink though, the tragic endings of those stories flooded my mind, shattering my momentary rage. It filled me with despair."

Stark shut his eyes, deep furrows forming on his brow showcasing an visibly pained expression.

"To experience realms of endless, irreparable tragedies in an instance nearly drove me to madness."

"So, you chose…"

"No," Stark inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling, then settling back down. He said, "Do you remember the question you asked Jarvis, and me, previously?"

"In between that split-second decision, I pondered, how would Howard have responded to all this?"

"...He was completely rotten, not a good father, but he would have done anything to prevent this." Stark spoke, his words almost bitten off.

"That's us. That's Stark."

Shiller looked into Stark's eyes, seeing therein a special radiance. Unlike other superheroes, there was no modesty, simplicity, or kindness. Just extreme pride nearing arrogance.

Shiller patted his shoulder and said, "If Stark can see all of this and remain indifferent, and doesn't hesitate to add more tinder to the flame of human destruction, then you guys wouldn't be you."

"But, you could also try a different perspective." Shiller tried again to fulfil his own responsibilities. "You've faced similar circumstances. The military initiated the conflict, and you were simply an arms dealer. Even if an arms dealer did ignite a war to make a fortune, it wasn't you, but you bore all of the blame."

"As I told you when you want to shut down your weapon division, don't blame the gun. If you want to punish the gun, you should first shoot the gunman, or else how can you ensure that he won't shoot you again with that gun?"

Shiller directed his gaze at the unconscious and critically wounded T'Challa. Stark followed his gaze, his own becoming more profound. He said, "Perhaps... you're right."

"Now, they've shot another bullet, and this time, they've pulled the trigger right in front of me. I nearly lost an important friend because of it…"

Having said that, Stark turned and walked toward the teleportation portal he'd entered through. As he walked, he said, "This tells me one thing: if I don't take action, their bullets will be endless."

The sunlight on this fictitious prairie was always intense. When it hit Stark's armor, the metal reflected a brilliant light. But Shiller preferred to believe that the glow came from Stark himself, emanating from his innate sense of mission and responsibility.

As these individuals called heroes carry on, shining with an extraordinary radiance forged from the ordinaries of joy, anger, sorrow, and delight.

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