Tonight, the Stars Shone Bright

New York’s morning was bright and sunny, traffic streamed along the highways, and sunlight glinted off Stark Tower’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Schiller took a sip from his steaming cup of coffee.

Across from him, Stark was sorting through documents on the lab bench. After a while, he pulled out a sheet from the pile, shook it, and said, "All right, I have to admit this friend of yours has some skills. Is he interested in working for Stark Industries? I’ll offer him a salary that satisfies him."

"That would be difficult. He’s still in college."

"What does that matter? Peter’s still in high school, isn’t he? Which university does he attend? Harvard? MIT? Don’t tell me it’s Princeton?"

"That isn’t important. What matters is whether this technology helps you."

Holding one of the design drawings, Stark said, "Liquid Armor is indeed an interesting concept, but it’s mostly limited by Materials Science. Our base materials haven’t reached that level yet. The gel you gave me is strange. It feels a little familiar…"

"You don’t need to understand its principles. You only need to know that it works."

"But principles are what I study." Stark said, "You can’t conjure some bizarre material out of thin air and then expect me to use it with my eyes closed."

"That’s a little troublesome. You know, none of us are running a charity. Everyone has to support a family…"

Stark spread his hands. "Fine, fine, I get it. Let him name his price. You don’t need to beat around the bush this much. Just give me a number."

Schiller set down his coffee, turned his chair around, and said to Stark, "The problem is that he doesn’t want money. He has plenty of it."

"Then what does he want?"

"He needs a technology. Don’t misunderstand—not your mech technology. He needs satellite navigation technology that can be widely adopted for civilian use. More importantly, he needs civilian communication devices capable of carrying that technology."

Stark put one hand on his hip and braced the other against the lab bench. Somewhat puzzled, he said, "Civilian communication devices? That’s strange. In my opinion… all right, I said it already, I admit he’s a genius. At his level, surely he can manage civilian applications himself. Is making a portable GPS really that difficult?"

"He wants more functions, including the most intuitive display system possible, input and output systems, an interactive interface, communication functions, and some leisure and entertainment functions."

"Isn’t that just a phone?" Stark pulled out his own phone, which was still the button-operated kind.

"It needs to be better than that. Use your genius creativity. Exhaust your imagination. Envision the absolute pinnacle of what a mobile device can achieve."

"What does he need that for? Isn’t a phone enough as long as it can make calls? Fine, put a navigation system on it too. But games and entertainment? Why not just use a computer?"

"Just tell me whether you can make it."

Stark opened his mouth, but the words at his lips took another turn. "Of course I can make it. What could possibly stump the genius Stark?"

Then he snapped his fingers and said, "Give me a detailed product requirements list. I’ll come up with a proposal, and then you give me all the data on Liquid Armor and its raw materials."

"Deal."

Twenty minutes later, Stark watched Schiller still writing furiously and began to feel a little uneasy. But he had to pretend to be confident, so he craned his neck, trying to see what Schiller was still writing. Weren’t these just requirements for a phone? How could it take this long?

After a while, he could no longer hold back. Tapping the desk with a finger, he said, "You aren’t expecting me to invent a spaceship, are you? What phone functions could possibly take you twenty minutes to write down?"

"No, no, this is only a small portion…" Schiller put down his pen and handed those pages to Stark. After looking them over, Stark said in confusion, "Tablet phone, full screen, eight-core processor, portable charging, open-source system, UI interactive interface…"

"Are you sure this is a phone? Isn’t this a miniature computer?"

"Now is the time to test just how much of a genius you are. You need to compress nearly all the functions of a computer into a handheld phone. Not only must every function run perfectly, but its display and appearance must also be smooth and attractive."

Stark covered his forehead. "Those are pretty demanding requirements. I don’t think the information you gave me fully compensates for them. Tell him to offer something more substantial."

"Don’t try to raise the price on the spot. I know all you lack is an idea. With your technical level, accomplishing this is no problem at all."

"Can’t you really just get him to work at Stark Industries? I’d even share my lab with him. We could develop these things together…"

Stark paused, then spoke hesitantly. "All right, I’ll only tell you this, so don’t tell anyone else. Your friend has what it takes to stand beside the great Stark."

"Of course, he’ll still be just a tiny bit behind me. Only a tiny bit. I think we could become good friends, especially when it comes to research. We’d have plenty to talk about. So can’t I really meet him?"

Schiller heard the urgency in Stark’s voice, and he understood him. If Stark had to have a close friend, someone evenly matched with him in intelligence, a worthy rival, then besides Batman, who else could it be?

Though Schiller could indeed bring living creatures between the two worlds, the risk was simply too great, especially with two protagonists.

So he could only reluctantly travel back and forth between the two worlds and play the role of a middleman.

Though there was now an era-wide gap between Gotham and New York—DC’s side was still in the 1980s, while New York had entered the twenty-first century—Batman and Iron Man each had their strengths, and in some areas they could complement one another.

Batman was comprehensive. Whether it was various individual combat equipment, base construction, or strategic planning, he was deeply proficient in all of it. Stark, meanwhile, had reached unprecedented heights in mechanics. Any invention related to machinery was well within his grasp.

Bruce was results-oriented. Once a goal was clear, his research speed was astonishing, and his finished products were never less than two hundred percent complete. This time, the Liquid Armor technology Schiller had brought Stark was the result of his research into Venom. He had extracted a gel-like substance from Venom’s body. This active gel could be fully controlled through bioelectricity, and the whole development process had taken less than a month.

Stark’s advantage was his boundless imagination and creativity. He excelled at solving problems with all kinds of cutting-edge methods, and with his advantage in era, he could bring methods and technologies more advanced than anything from the previous century.

What else was there to say? Start trading!

After receiving another refusal from Schiller, Stark was indeed disappointed. He desperately needed a companion with whom he could share common ground.

Obadiah was still unconscious, Peter was too young and vanished whenever he let go, Pepper could offer emotional comfort but knew nothing about scientific research, and while Schiller could give him life advice, he could only screw in lightbulbs. Stark had finally encountered someone who might share common ground with him professionally, only for the other side to unilaterally refuse communication. No wonder he was disappointed.

If the opportunity arose, Schiller did not mind building a bridge of communication between Bruce and Stark. But the biggest problem was that time flowed differently in the two worlds, so even remote communication was impossible.

Before long, however, Stark regained his energy, because Schiller assured him that this would be a long-term partnership. The two sides could conduct ongoing technological exchanges.

The prospect of continuously seeing another genius’s research results filled Stark with enthusiasm for development. He said, "Just wait. I admit the guy on the other side is strong, but he’ll never be more of a genius than Stark. I’ll prove it to you."

With that, he shook the paper Schiller had written and said, "We’ll start with this. Go back and tell him that he’d better produce more genius-level results, or I’ll make him so shocked that he’ll feel ashamed of himself."

Unfortunately, Schiller thought, Batman’s personality differed from Iron Man’s. He would not rise to that kind of provocation. If Schiller told Batman, "Someone is more of a genius than you," Batman would probably just nod and admit it. He would never leap up like his pants were on fire, immediately determined to prove he was better.

If both sides had Stark’s personality, Schiller would be delighted. He could pass messages between them, provoke one side and then the other, and directly kick off an arms race between DC and Marvel.

The two super-geniuses would begin competing with each other until they pushed the technological level of the entire world so high that Thanos would weep at the sight of it and Barbatos would cry upon hearing of it.

Considering the upper limits of those two characters, it was not impossible.

Soon, in the research institute at Gotham University, Victor held a stack of documents and said, "…His use of energy is very interesting. I think it gave me some inspiration. This method of energy conversion could indeed be applied to weapons."

Victor spun his pen and said to Schiller, "Wait a moment, I’ll get you a design drawing… Where is it? Oh! Here… I had planned to develop a freezing weapon, but I was too busy lately to start the project."

"Look at this. I call it the freeze gun. What do you think? It can freeze a person into a block of ice while preserving the activity of their body. It could subdue opponents without harming them. I think it would be very useful in certain police and civilian fields."

"It was originally intended for medical applications. It is an extension of my cryogenic chamber technology."

"The reason I turned it into a weapon was because modern weapons are too destructive. I’m a pacifist, you know. If there were a weapon that could completely subdue someone without harming them, then in war, the possibility of subduing enemies would be far greater than killing them."

Elsewhere, after seeing the cryogenic technology documents, Stark said, "Interesting. Is this another friend of yours?"

"His cryogenic technology is certainly advanced, but I think it should be used more in ecology—for example, large-scale weather generation devices. It could also solve environmental problems like glacial melting."

"Of course, this technology must be used cautiously. Its destructive potential is also considerable."

"A freeze gun? His idea isn’t bad, but the structural design is terrible. The efficiency is too low. It can only fire once at a time, and then it runs out of power. Jarvis, help me analyze how to use this freezing energy more efficiently. And make a sample later…"

After returning to Gotham, Victor looked at Stark’s blueprints and said, "This weapon does look good. Does your friend understand medical technology? I still have several difficulties in that area that I haven’t overcome."

"For example, how to make the human immune system and Self-Healing ability continue functioning in a low-temperature state—in other words, when cellular activity is reduced…"

Schiller snapped his fingers. "I have a friend who specializes in that kind of technology, especially Self-Healing."

"That’s wonderful." Victor looked delighted. "Though I know that relying on the body’s Self-Healing ability cannot completely solve nervous system atrophy, once Self-Healing and the immune system regain activity, the patient’s physical condition will be better during subsequent treatment…"

He paced excitedly around the room, then said, "I need that technology. In exchange, I can offer more cryogenic technology. I have also considered the large-scale weather generation device you mentioned…"

The scene shifted back to the Stark Tower laboratory. Connors looked over some documents and said, "…I have to say, this information arrived at exactly the right time. It solves a major problem for me."

"The issue with the lizard serum is that its activity is too high. Beyond granting Self-Healing, it also causes people to display lizard traits and turn into destructive monsters."

"Perhaps cryogenic technology can keep the serum’s activity at precisely the right level, allowing it to show its Self-Healing ability without becoming overly active…"

Connors picked up a syringe while Peter helped beside him. After thinking for a moment, Connors said, "We’ll still need Stark’s technology. We need to make a special cryogenic chamber to store the serum, or rather… Right! I have an idea! We still need to start with cellular activity!"

Connors was extremely excited. "High-activity Self-Healing and cryogenic storage technology are a match made in heaven!"

"We can use cryogenic technology to screen cells with different activity levels. We may even be able to…"

"Right! That drug you gave me last time to stimulate brain activity can be used too. We can use cryogenic technology to remove the parts with negative effects… Let me think, let me think…"

"Those blockheads in the military will never understand this! All they want is stronger effects. They don’t understand that sometimes you have to take a step back to move forward…"

Connors waved one arm, making gestures like he was delivering a speech. Then he said, "If this technology truly makes a breakthrough, I’m confident I can receive a Nobel Prize nomination this year. A great invention that will improve the lives of all disabled people is on its way…"

Schiller applauded him. He might soon have two Nobel Prize-winning friends, even if they were from different worlds.

"The combination of cryogenic technology and Self-Healing technology might produce even greater miracles." Connors stroked his chin and speculated, "We may be touching the threshold of longevity, perhaps even immortality. Cryogenic technology can preserve the original state, while Self-Healing technology may be able to restore youth. Maintaining and enhancing cellular activity…"

Soon, he began scribbling and drawing across the documents, clearly flooded with inspiration.

Peter also looked at the documents and said thoughtfully, "Actually, I considered this before, Doctor. Do you remember when Pikachu crashed into the refrigerator last time?"

"I think that while our current refrigerators are already good, they still have shortcomings. For example, their temperature control systems are too fragile, and their emissions are not environmentally friendly."

"If this cryogenic technology could be used for civilian applications—yes, I’ve looked through it—I think it could preserve freshness using principles more advanced than those used by current refrigerators. I’ve always believed the larger market lies in civilian use…"

Peter began writing as he spoke. "I saw a very advanced refrigerator at Mr. Stark’s before, but Jarvis said it was expensive to make. But if we use this technology, I think the cost could be greatly reduced. It would definitely be especially suitable for large cold-storage equipment, and this technology’s greatest advantage is stability. Maybe it would work well installed on vehicles too…"

Before long, Roy excitedly pushed open the door to the Gotham University office. He stepped forward and gratefully shook Victor’s hand. "That large cold-storage device is incredible. Not only can it be used in warehouses, it can be installed on trucks and even smaller vehicles, and it doesn’t consume much energy…"

"…Transportation companies all across the East Coast are scrambling for it. Every factory in Gotham capable of assembly is running at full capacity, yet production still cannot keep up. Now even the West Coast has heard about it. I think our financial reports will soon be showing another very encouraging rise!"

In the Stark Tower laboratory, Yinsen told Schiller, "I did my best. That brand-new lift and scaffolding system you wanted is truly bizarre. I don’t understand why something like that needs to be bulletproof. Who would work as a mover in the middle of a battlefield?"

He inserted a flash drive into the computer, pointed at the screen, and said, "I reinforced all the important joint sections with stronger materials. But you know the final result depends on material strength. Stark Laboratories doesn’t have enough Vibranium, so I could only make a relatively small model. You can take it to your friend for professional evaluation. If he has the money to purchase Vibranium in large quantities, then I don’t think strength will be an issue…"

Schiller looked at the model Yinsen was carrying. Honestly, he could not see anything special about it from the surface, so he said, "Can I borrow this model? I may need to bring it to a professional for analysis."

Yinsen said, "Of course. I’m not planning to put it out for tender anyway. No one would spend that much money to make this kind of tool so sturdy. What’s the point? If it breaks, just replace it."

It was difficult for Schiller to explain how Gotham could consume tens of thousands of lifts and scaffolds in a single week. The city’s customs were simply too simple and honest, to the point that everything placed on the streets became a consumable.

The model Schiller brought back received unanimous approval, but Roy raised another issue. "The high-powered traffic light in the city center is good, but it seems impossible to mass-produce, and it uses too much electricity. Do you have any good ideas?"

Soon, Yinsen returned with another flash drive and said, "I don’t understand. Are you planning to direct traffic in the middle of a battlefield? And even more absurdly, isn’t the power requirement you want for a traffic light a little excessive?"

"Let me warn you first. Once this thing lights up, it can illuminate at least seven or eight blocks. The residents there won’t be getting any sleep."

"That is exactly the effect I want." Schiller was very satisfied. "Do you have a model? Can you let me see one?"

"I don’t have a model, but I can show you the real thing."

Yinsen walked out. After a while, he pushed in a cart. The single light bulb on it was nearly three meters in diameter. Peter approached in shock and said, "Is that a traffic light bulb? Who is it for? Giants?"

Yinsen fiddled with the wires behind it and said, "Cover your eyes! I’m turning it on!"

The moment it was powered up, one wall of Stark Tower suddenly lit up with an enormous patch of green.

The next day, Pepper angrily threw a newspaper in front of Stark. It was the New York Global Times, and its front-page headline read:

"Last night, eerie green light came from the top floor of Stark Tower. Is this inhuman promoter of war and mad scientist conducting another cruel radiation experiment?"

But the traffic light’s effect was indeed extraordinary.

One night in Gotham, Catwoman returned home. She hummed as she took a bath, admired her beautiful jewels for a while, and was just about to sleep when she saw an unbelievably eerie red glow rise outside her window.

In an instant, countless horror stories flooded Catwoman’s mind. She screamed in fright, dashed onto her bed, and burrowed beneath the covers. Then, through a gap in the curtains, she saw the red light outside flare up, turn green, then turn red again…

Catwoman trembled in fear and did not sleep all night. The next day, when she saw Bruce and learned that it was the new traffic light installed throughout the city, Bruce nearly had his face clawed apart by the furious Catwoman.

One afternoon in New York, Peter appeared at Matt’s hideout. Daredevil warmly welcomed him, and Peter said, "Uh… Mr. Matt, there’s something I’d like to ask you for."

"What is it? Go ahead."

"Well… I need some detailed information about Kingpin. Things like… the layout of his businesses."

"Oh." Matt gave Peter a surprised look. "Looks like you’ve improved. You know to gather intelligence first. Fine, I’ll help you this once. After that, you need to learn to gather intelligence yourself."

Peter wore a strange expression. As Matt searched through the documents for him, he said, "I’ve fought him for so many years that none of his businesses can escape my notice, especially around the East Coast. You know—New York, Miami, and Chicago. Those three cities are the main focus."

"Yes, exactly. I want those three cities."

"Don’t bite off more than you can chew, kid. You should focus on one city first, or even one district within one city."

Peter looked troubled. "Please give me all three cities first. Even if I can’t use it, I can take it back and store it away. I’ll keep it safe."

Very soon, those documents were placed on the desks of Falcone and every gang boss. Falcone was somewhat surprised as well. "How did you come up with such a detailed business plan, Professor Rodriguez?"

"It feels as though someone has already put it into practice."

"And this plan does look extremely reasonable. I think we can definitely use it to convince those people in Miami." Roy said.

Of course it was reasonable, Schiller thought. Kingpin had spent years testing it with blood and lives. If it were not reasonable, his East Coast criminal empire would have collapsed long ago.

After Gotham City and Chicago completed their cooperation, Imperial City joined in as well. Naturally, Miami could not sit still. But compared to the other cities, its foundation was weaker and its style more conservative. Roy needed a more detailed plan to persuade them.

Schiller was not going to fabricate such a plan out of thin air. He had long decided on an example to draw from: Kingpin.

Kingpin was certainly a rotten bastard, but one had to admit that he was also a criminal genius. He had built a criminal industrial chain from nothing, spreading from the East Coast across the entire country. And this criminal empire had stood firm for years. Even after repeated harassment by all kinds of superheroes, he remained the underground king of the East Coast.

What else was there to say? Start copying!

And Schiller did not even need to notify the person whose work he was copying, because Kingpin’s mortal enemy, Daredevil Matt, had studied Kingpin inside and out. Matt might even possess more detailed information about Kingpin’s business distribution than Kingpin himself.

His excuse for borrowing Matt’s homework was perfectly reasonable as well. Spider-Man had only recently debuted, and he had already offended Kingpin. He had no choice but to follow that road to the end. Peter was inexperienced, so not knowing how to gather intelligence was normal. As Spider-Man’s life mentor, Matt would surely be more than happy to help.

Sure enough, the business plan, detailed down to the layouts of every street and shop, quickly moved the Miami side. Not only that, some gangs in Bludhaven, not far from Gotham, were starting to stir.

Though that city was smaller, its port was poorly located, and its gangs were mostly incompetent, the big shots at the top would be eating meat, and at least they could let the smaller ones drink some soup.

As for Schiller, he brought that business plan to Bruce. After reading it, Bruce said, "You want me to come up with a way to dismantle this criminal industrial chain? Is this a test?"

"…I think the breakthrough point should be here… That’s right, this Chicago dock. Judging from its geographical location, it is extremely important. You could call it the bullseye of the target. If it were me, I would definitely focus on attacking the businesses here. Once something goes wrong here, the other ports will likely be dragged down as well…"

Soon, Peter looked at a battle plan and said, "…Follow this? Attack the Chicago docks? Is there some special reason for that?"

"There is no special reason, but you have to trust the wisdom of the person who made this battle plan."

A few days later, Matt patted Peter on the shoulder and said, "I really didn’t see this coming. You’re actually a strategic master. That move was brilliant!"

"Kingpin’s businesses in the central East Coast are nearly paralyzed. It will probably take him several months to recover. Come on, tell me—how did you come up with such a genius plan…"

Elsewhere, Schiller called Roy and said, "Sell Chicago a favor. Tell them to pay close attention to their harbor docks during construction. Their businesses there should not be clustered too densely, so they do not get wiped out in one stroke and affect our business…"

A few days later, in the Stark Tower laboratory, Dr. Connors fiddled with experimental equipment while listening to Schiller tell Victor’s story.

"Perhaps we are alike." He said, "We are both working for others. Perhaps by saving them, we are saving ourselves too."

He stopped what he was doing and said with emotion, "Or rather, this goal of saving others has saved me countless times."

"There were many times when I had dangerous thoughts. I knew very clearly that if I wanted revenge for what had happened to me, perhaps I could accomplish many things."

"But precisely because I once suffered so deeply from what happened to me, I can understand others’ pain so clearly."

Under the cold light of the instruments, Dr. Connors’s eyes resembled waves holding seawater. The cold-blooded genes had not fully faded from him, and his eyes still had a lizard’s vertical pupils, but now they held a depth of emotion unlike any cold-blooded creature.

"If it were not for saving her, perhaps I would have given up on everything long ago." In another laboratory, Victor sat on the floor, leaning against the lab bench. One hand stroked the cryogenic chamber holding his wife.

"The story you told me shocked me." Victor spoke bluntly. "I think there are still many people in this world, like my wife, suffering from this disease."

"Like the story of your friend—a scientist who lost an arm and wanted to cure every disabled person in the world."

"I think I have a greater goal now." Victor’s voice passed through the laboratory’s faint light, and his eyes always held a peculiar emotion.

He said, "It is a goal that sounds even more absurd, just like this absurd world."

"I hope that one day, no one—no wife or husband—will suffer from this disease any longer…"

He raised his head toward the cryogenic chamber. "I hope no one will have to look at the person they love through such a heavy chamber door again. I hope they can embrace and kiss freely."

"I hope they will not have to go through a tragic story like mine." Connors said. With his only hand, he gently rubbed the book on the lab bench, and his voice began to take shape within the quiet laboratory.

"In gratitude to this world for leaving me a genius brain after taking part of my body away."

"It took away my beloved, but at least it left me wisdom…"

"If I have the ability to do something, then missing one arm cannot stop me from changing this world."

"If I still have a chance to reunite with her, then I hope every family in this world can have that same good fortune. If they cannot, then I will give it to them…"

And Schiller simply stood between the two stories, listening to every shift of their thoughts and every rise and fall of their emotions.

It was as though two spaces suddenly overlapped. Schiller saw Connors raise his head within the layers upon layers of overlapping space and look directly at Victor sitting before the lab bench. As Victor turned his head, the instant their gazes met, countless points of light shattered, and space and time stood still.

Across countless light-years and the barriers of world after world, their gazes met, piercing space and time. Two stories, two lives, the same intelligence, the same ideals, met at this moment.

Stark stood on the roof of Stark Tower in his armor. Schiller lit a cigarette. Stark looked down at the lights of New York City and said:

"I had never felt so vividly as I did now that someone else, like me, was striving to change this world."

"Change the world?" Schiller said. "Why are you so sure he was trying to change the world just like you?"

Stark shook his head. "It’s a resonance between geniuses. Perhaps you can’t see how much wisdom and effort those dull, tedious numbers contain."

"But I can see him in them—his intelligence, his character. This is communication between geniuses."

"What kind of person do you think he was?"

"He was different from me. He didn’t devote that much passion to it, nor did he regard such brilliant research as the goal of his life."

"He didn’t care about creativity or the joy in it. I think he must have been a rather brooding person, but none of that matters…"

Schiller turned his head and saw Stark’s always slightly moist eyes shining brightly beneath the distant lights.

He heard this one-of-a-kind genius say, "We are alike, yet different. That is what makes this world so wonderful—it gave two completely different people almost the same intelligence."

It was the first time Schiller had heard Stark admit that someone possessed intelligence equal to his own.

"Whatever our goals may be, every human should be proud of possessing such magnificent intelligence." Stark seemed never to lower his head, merely gazing into the distance.

New York’s lights still shone brightly at night. In Schiller’s eyes, those lights gradually went out, the city dimmed, and the roads began to stretch away. By the time he returned to Gotham, the rooftop of Wayne Enterprises Tower was as biting as a cold wind.

"I have always believed that, no matter what other races may exist in the universe, humanity must be special." Batman stood on the rooftop and spoke to Schiller. Gotham’s increasingly flourishing lights cast a warm hue over his cowl.

"I also know that, wherever that person may be carrying out his inventions and creations, he must think the same way I do," Batman said.

"I never knew you thought someone could share your way of thinking."

"No one thinks exactly the same way I do," Batman said.

"We are all unique…" Stark said.

"But that is precisely what makes it wonderful."

"That is the essence of human intelligence…"

"Intelligence is just that amazing."

"…Amazing, isn’t it?"

In Schiller’s vision, Gotham’s lights gradually merged with New York’s, as if at that very moment, the greatest geniuses of those two worlds stood face-to-face. They could not see one another, yet they seemed to sense each other’s presence.

Across an immeasurable distance and entirely different times, they completed an exchange that was almost impossible.

These geniuses seemed to have found a point of convergence within a tangled, intricate web. All the light spreading outward from it echoed from afar—different identities, different backgrounds, playing different roles and remaining in their own worlds, yet seeming intimately connected, their hearts in perfect accord.

Perhaps that was humanity’s greatness: they would always be connected in spirit, capable of empathy and understanding.

The night grew late. Batman turned and left, and Stark departed as well. In the Gotham University laboratory, Victor sank into dreams; in the Stark Tower laboratory, Connors slowly fell asleep.

Time and space endlessly brought forth countless shadows, then carried them away.

In the end, only Schiller remained. He stood atop Stark Tower. Tonight, New York was filled with brilliant starlight.

He saw countless stars blinking at the farthest reaches of the night sky. Perhaps one of them was a light shining in another world.

The knowledge and wisdom of geniuses echoed across the distance, lighting civilization’s beacon. And now Schiller stood here. He was not one of those lights; he was merely like an ordinary person, standing atop a skyscraper. Beneath his feet burned the fire humanity had never extinguished through countless millennia, while above his head rose innumerable bright lights from distant worlds beyond, separated by vast distances yet watching over one another from afar.

He thought, from slash-and-burn farming to rising steam, from the first electric lamp being lit to countless skyscrapers rising from the ground, humanity had never stopped exploring.

Across space, across time, all wisdom had been woven into ropes pulling the great ship of humanity onward. Great geniuses waved across the river of time, while the pioneers of civilization saluted across the barriers of space.

Schiller thought that if it was fate that had brought him here, then the ability to connect two worlds was the Creator’s finest gift to him.

He allowed those who could never meet to meet, let heroes cherish heroes, connected thoughts, and brought wisdom into collision.

If his coming here had to serve a purpose, if he ultimately had to accomplish something great, then Schiller hoped that, just as he was doing now, he could light one lamp of wisdom after another, gather those lights into a fire of civilization that could never be extinguished, and let it blaze into an eternal sun of this universe.

Then, one day, he would witness the great ship called human civilization sail into the mysterious cosmos beyond the reach of its ancestors.

When that day came, the vast river of stars would shine together, billions of stars would glow as one, and the radiance of this black sun would never fade.

Ten thousand words delivered today! Please vote!

Also, there seems to be some issue with the distribution channels lately, so updates will be delayed by 24 hours. If you’re in a hurry, please read on the main site instead. The author really has no way around it.