At sunset, the coastline of New York was bathed in a splendid glow, as if a snowstorm of gold foil had descended the night before. Not far from the shore, a cruise liner was steadily setting sail.
From its exterior alone, this was evidently a luxury cruise. As the sky gradually darkened, a bright glow emerged from within the ship's cabin. The people on board took in the approaching twilight in quiet admiration.
On the balcony of a prime restaurant on the second deck, two figures in suits sat next to the railing. Grant was idly playing with the food on his plate, while Shiller, having finished his meal, leaned back in his chair to watch the sunset and enjoy the sea breeze.
After a while, he stood up. Grant, without uttering a word, followed him. Shiller strode briskly through the restaurant and the bustling dance floor, weaving through the swirling attire of dapper gentlemen and graceful ladies, and the dim light reflected from their exquisite glassware.
He made his way to the corridor of the cruise liner's cabins, where he stopped in front of a door, knocked, and spoke as the door was being opened. "I know that the moment you see me, you'll think you've been discovered by S.H.I.E.L.D. But quite the contrary. Nick is on to you, but I hid the truth for you, Alexander Pierce."
An elderly man with partially grey hair appeared on the other side of the door. He was taken aback by Shiller's words but seeing Grant Ward standing outside with a gun in his hand, he knew he had no choice but to comply.
For a moment, Pierce seemed to age by a few years. He no longer bore the confident demeanor he exhibited on his United Nations Security Council seat. He slowly retreated and allowed Shiller to enter.
Shiller looked around the room and said, "I know you're going to say something like 'the most dangerous place is the safest place'. But in reality, you're just unwilling to suffer in those dark and damp underground bunkers and portray your risky hideout on this cruise as evidence of your foresight and omniscience."
"You and I both know well why you're still alive today, despite your habit of taking chances and resolving to change your ways every time you manage to survive yet never actually doing it, Pierce."
Pierce's face twisted in discomfort. Never before in his life had he heard such piercing words that targeted his innermost thoughts. Agents tend to be straightforward and dislike wasting time, but they are even more reluctant to probe into people's hearts and seldom bring up the subject in conversation.
But this psychologist in front of him clearly didn't hold back, indicating his ill intentions.
Pierce quickly composed himself, knowing that a fierce battle awaited him. The fact that Shiller didn't simply gun him down at the door indicated that they had matters to discuss.
In the same evening, Stark took off his mecha suit and was at his lab desk reading a book. He rubbed his philtrum, shook his head, and said, "If I hadn't committed all sorts of chaotic game theories to memory overnight, I might not have the patience to sit here and read these books about mental illness and psychology."
"Sir, I suggest not investing too much of yourself into these readings. People often project themselves onto the cases in psychology and psychiatry literature, which could potentially affect your mood."
"You seem to be far more advanced than me at the moment, but I should catch up with you soon, Jarvis," Stark dismissed casually.
"Originally, I had no interest in such matters. But Shiller's performance today has raised my suspicions. Like your findings, his recent changes are as if he became an entirely new person. This doesn't seem like it can be explained by multiple personalities, and you also didn't notice any physical abnormalities during the body scan; everything about his veins and neural structures were perfectly normal."
"If he really is ill, then I will find a way to cure his disease. If Hydra has replaced him, I will expose this conspiracy and rescue him. Imagine the look on his face. Haha!"
Stark chuckled and continued to read, but his facial expression soon turned serious. He turned the book's pages between his fingers and hesitated before asking, "Jarvis, did you cover the part about anxiety disorders?"
"Yes, I have more detailed information here. Would you like to hear it?"
"No, that's not necessary," Stark immediately replied. He bit the inside of his lower lip, jolted his neck lightly, arched his spine backwards, and quickly said, "I'm fine now. If you'd learned all of this sooner, maybe I wouldn't have been exploited by that Vampire Doctor."
Jarvis didn't respond. Stark made a concerted effort to focus back on his book. But later, he muttered, "What's this disorder here? Narcissistic personality disorder? Is narcissism a disease?"
"Malignant narcissism can lead to harmful behavior, referring to a severe level of self-centeredness that results in harm to others..."
Stark went quiet for a moment before asking, "Do you think I'm narcissistic?"
"I am unable to answer this question."
"Alright, I get it, you don't need to say anymore." Stark propped his elbow on the table, pressing his fingers against his forehead, and said, "I admit, I do have some symptoms, but they're not severe, right?"
Then he continued reading. After a while, he remarked, "Bipolar disorder? This seems a bit..."
Stark shook his head exasperatedly as he continued to flip through. Later, he commented:
"Post-traumatic stress disorder...Do you know? These symptoms listed here..."
Stark pointed to certain sentences in the book with his finger, saying, "Reliving the trauma, hyper-alertness, avoidance, and so on...This reminds me of someone..."
Stark fell silent again. Not two minutes passed before he closed the book with a snap, leaned back in his chair, and said, "Jarvis, you were right. I shouldn't be reading this stuff at night."
Suddenly, he sat upright, reopened the book, and dived headfirst into the sea of knowledge, staying immersed until morning.
The next morning, as soon as Steve entered the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria, he saw Stark poking his head around behind the buffet counter. He walked over, tapped Stark on the shoulder, and asked, "What's wrong with you?"
Stark fluttered his eyelids, gave Steve an up-and-down look, and replied, "Nothing, I was just waiting for you."
"Waiting for me? For what?"
"Did you forget? We still have an important discussion pending about your 'good friend'..."
Steve turned to get a tray without addressing the topic at hand. Stark squinted his eyes, saying, "Even if he was brainwashed by Hydra, that can't erase the fact that he's harmed innocent people."
"But he's saved many more; he was once a heroic warrior, just had an unfortunate incident..." Steve picked out bread with tongs while Stark stood behind the counter, whispering into his headset, "Jarvis, did you see that? He just picked up the same piece of bread and put it back three times."
"What if among those innocent civilians murdered by him, one of them was your other friend?"
"Impossible." Steve instinctively denied, but Stark continued, "Is it really impossible, or you just don't want to imagine it?"
"Let's not talk about this anymore." Steve turned back to the counter, putting down the tongs. He spoke rapidly, "Mealtime is not the ideal time for this conversation. Let's sit over there."
To Stark's surprise, when they revisited the topic, his perspective was more observational, more scrutinising Steve's reaction. He noticed details he never paid attention to previously.
Once they sat at the table, the ordinarily talkative Captain America was much quieter. Stark took the initiative to ask, "How did you meet him? Did you join the army together?"
Usually, Steve would enthusiastically share his story of narrowly escaping elimination during recruitment, a tale he had told Peter countless times. It never failed to excite him.
This time, however, Steve bit into his sandwich in silence. As a leaf of lettuce fell out, he instinctively tried to catch it with his mouth but paused, worrying it would look uncouth.
Stark watched him closely. He realised that Steve had adopted an anxious and defensive posture, clutching his arm, his elbow on the table, his arm in front of his body as a shield. Although he was holding a sandwich, the tension in his muscles signaled his nervousness.
Stark had rarely seen Steve like this. The Captain was usually cheerful, confident, and communicative, always able to discuss any topic humorously and affably.
But now, he was in a state all too familiar to Stark, a state he himself adopted when his anxiety flared up.
Reflecting upon it, Stark realised it was not the first time he has seen Steve in this state, he just had ignored these details in the past.
Then, Stark started thinking about himself. Was he also like this when facing the psychologist? Did he wear his symptoms on his face?
All of a sudden, he couldn't help but chuckle bitterly. He could now empathise with how Doctor Schiller felt when he first asked if he had the Mind Reading Technique: a combination of absurdity and frustration.
Stark quickly noticed that if he blurted out the comment that was on the tip of his tongue, it would strike Steve where it hurt most, plunging him into an even deeper anxiety. Like a sword piercing his soft side.
This would cause far more pain than a barrage of hundreds, if not thousands, of missiles. But in the end, Stark held his tongue.
He changed the subject, saying, "Let's talk about The Avengers' work instead. How do we plan to proceed against Hydra?"
Steve bit a large chunk out of his sandwich, chewed it laboriously, and swallowed. This state of being helped him look busy, so he devoted all his energies to a simple task.
"Did you mention earlier that the assassination cases might be related to Hydra?" Steve asked.
"Yes, I don't believe it's a coincidence that all these assassination cases occurred precisely when we're striking back at Hydra."
"Then we should start from there. Murder always leaves traces. Once we find out who the murderer is, we might be able to understand the reasons behind Hydra's strange behaviour."
Stark noticed that coming into a field he was comfortable with made Steve's tension ease somewhat. He relaxed his elbows, held the sandwich lower, and revealed his face.
All at once, Stark remembered his conversation about mechas with Schiller. It felt strangely similar to the present situation.
"Also, remember how you told me if someone seems a bit unfamiliar all of a sudden, we shouldn't rule out the possibility of them being replaced by Hydra?"
"Yesterday, I had Jarvis analyse Schiller's behaviour. The data Jarvis provided pointed out that his behaviour, compared to the Schiller we know, overlaps very little."
But to his surprise, Steve shook his head, and said, "If he really was replaced, the overlap wouldn't be so low. He would definitely imitate the original Doctor Schiller closely, only exhibiting minor discrepancies."
"So it's not like changing into an entirely different person. Wouldn't that be telling us outright that he has been replaced?"
"What if they anticipated our anticipation?"
"Then Hydra would be ruling the world already."