In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group - Chapter 516: Journey into Schiller's Past (1)

Standing by the door, Stark was momentarily puzzled. He couldn’t quite grasp the logic behind Schiller’s actions.

Hiding in the closet out of fear of outsiders? But when they entered, the young Schiller didn’t prevent them. If he was afraid, he could have simply not opened the door for them.

Stark paused for a moment and then entered the bedroom. It was a small bedroom with a crib converted from a baby bed. It appeared that the young Schiller hadn’t been sleeping alone in this room for long; he had probably just started sleeping on his own after being weaned from his mother.

Stark circled around the small bed and stood in front of the closet. He gently pushed the closet door but found that it wouldn’t budge.

He stuck his finger into the gap of the closet door, attempting to pull it open, but it remained firmly shut. Stark took a few steps back, assessing the large wooden closet. The closet door had small cartoon stickers on it, probably attached by the young Schiller.

Looking left and right, Stark realized that the gap in the closet door was quite small, and the inside of the closet was pitch black. If not standing at a specific angle with specific lighting, it was nearly impossible to see Schiller inside the closet. Furthermore, Schiller wasn’t making any movements, making it difficult to notice the presence of the child in the closet.

After observing for a while, with no other leads, Stark could only crouch down. He aligned his gaze with Schiller’s through the gap in the closet door, and the two exchanged glances through the narrow space in the door.

At that moment, Stark noticed that Schiller’s eye contact wasn’t focused on him but rather on where he had been standing earlier. Stark stood up, took a few steps back, and walked to the bedroom door. He looked at where he had stood but saw nothing unusual.

Steve also approached, and both stood by the bedroom door, both able to see Schiller’s gaze. Steve turned his head toward the living room and said, “He might be looking into the living room through the bedroom door.”

Hearing this, Stark swiftly walked into the living room and then turned to confirm the direction of Schiller’s gaze. He took a step forward and stood by the side of the sofa.

He found that Schiller’s gaze seemed to be fixed on the sofa. Stark inspected the sofa, moving it around, but didn’t find anything unusual. While he was shifting the sofa, he unintentionally wrinkled the carpet in front of it. Steve, who had followed him, wrinkled his nose and said, “Can you smell that? It’s like the smell of blood…”

Stark stood up and surveyed his surroundings, then fixed his gaze on the wrinkled carpet. He took a deep breath, sensing a foreboding. After Steve moved the coffee table aside, Stark lifted the carpet.

Underneath was blood.

What appeared to be a completely normal carpet had a large circular dark bloodstain underneath. It seemed to have dried up a long time ago, but there was still a faint odor.

In that moment, Stark turned around, his gaze falling on the family photo of three that he had absentmindedly put aside.

He picked up the frame, his fingers pressing against the photo, his knuckles slightly whitening from the pressure. Apparently, the answer he had speculated choked him.

…

Steve gazed down at the bloodstain, then turned his head to look at Schiller, who was hiding in the closet. He turned back, walked to the bedroom, and crouched in front of the closet. Through the gap, he looked at the young Schiller and said, “Don’t be afraid. We’re not bad guys. Can you open the door? We’ll protect you…”

Young Schiller didn’t reply. He didn’t look at Steve’s face, just continued staring at that one spot, as if he was intensely focused on something. Steve took a deep breath. He heard footsteps behind him and turned his head. Stark, who appeared somewhat pale, was standing behind him.

The two returned to the bedroom door. Stark held the family photo frame and said, “This is Schiller’s world of consciousness. Everything here is essentially a ‘representation,’ meaning they symbolize certain memories of Schiller.”

“After I entered the Temple of Thought and explored here, I tried to develop my own consciousness space. Therefore, I understand that some things existing in the consciousness space aren’t as they appear on the surface. They have symbolic meanings.”

Steve turned his head, looking at the bloodstain under the carpet. He said, “I’m certain it’s human blood, but the blood from anyone wouldn’t create such a regular circular shape. Plus, it’s conveniently hidden under the carpet. This might indicate…”

Steve’s tone grew somber. “…that a gruesome event took place here.”

“In the psychology books I’ve read, it’s mentioned that when people remember certain things, they instinctively capture stimulus points. Perhaps, the Schiller who witnessed a gruesome event happening here was stimulated by the blood and the scent of blood. Therefore, the image of this gruesome event in his memory is represented by the bloodstain under the carpet.”

Stark let out a sigh and said,

“Based on the current clues, we can probably speculate about what happened in Schiller’s childhood…””According to the medical records found in the parents’ bedroom, Schiller was diagnosed with autism. Although the specific subtype of autism spectrum disorder wasn’t mentioned on those papers, his parents had detected this condition in him early and actively pursued treatment for him.”

“Schiller underwent an extended period of Sensory Training, which lasted at least two years. By the later stages of training, he had nearly recovered, regaining a significant portion of his language abilities.”

“However, perhaps around the time when the medical records abruptly stopped…” Stark pursed his lips, his tone slowing down. He sounded reluctant to continue, saying:

“His parents might have been killed.”

Stark turned his head, glancing at the young Schiller still hiding in the closet, peering at the outside world through the gap in the door. He said, “His parents were professionally trained. It’s unlikely they would have waited until the intruder broke in to realize something was wrong. They might have known they had no escape route when the intruder entered the building or charged into the corridor.”

“If you were Schiller’s parents, what would you do?” Stark looked at Steve and asked. Steve’s expression was also very grim. He replied:

“I would undoubtedly protect my children first.”

“Perhaps, his parents did the same…” Stark lowered his head, his voice dropping to a tone that was already as low as it could be, echoing in the room like a heavy dusk drum…

“They would have made him hide, hide in the largest closet in the house. What’s more important…”

Stark spoke until here, his voice now tinged with a painful sigh of empathy. Both he and Steve stared at the gap in the closet, as the changing light of the approaching night seemed to show them a scene. They saw the mother from the family photo crouching outside the closet, looking through the gap at her children, emitting a desperate cry:

“Don’t speak! Don’t make a sound! Don’t respond to anything, no matter what you hear…”

And now, the child who had just started learning to express his rich inner world through language had returned to that silent world where there was no door leading outside.

Steve covered his face, leaning against the bedroom wall’s door frame, sitting down. Just like before, when these details presented themselves to him, they were far more brutal than hearing a story.

“Dissociative Identity Disorder, also known as multiple personality disorder, often occurs when the first personality is split off to escape some realities they don’t want to face. I think, perhaps for this reason, Schiller split off another personality to escape the trauma of his childhood…”

Stark’s tone grew calmer instead. He reached out and pulled Steve up, then said, “Don’t dwell on this. We need to find Schiller. Regardless of what he might have gone through, I believe we can help him, just like… he helped us.”

Stark led the way, with Steve following behind. The two left the room and returned to the corridor, their emotions still far from being calmed.

In their impressions, though Schiller was caustic, money-minded, a riddler, someone who enjoyed spectacles without any concerns for consequences, and whose moral compass was almost nonexistent, he was still a relatively cheerful person. During their interactions, they laughed and chatted together without feeling anything unusual.

But often, contrast brought pain. Stark’s parents met with an accidental death; he thought he had it bad. Upon learning that Steve’s old teammate, the Winter Soldier, had killed his parents, he thought he had it worse. However, now he felt that at least Howard had accompanied him for a portion of his life. Despite his alcoholism, he had been a decent father when sober.

The young Schiller they had just seen was very young. He had barely started speaking due to his autism. This meant that he likely hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with his parents before they met a tragic end.

Moreover, Stark felt that he hadn’t faced the scene of his parents’ deaths directly. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve reacted similarly to Schiller—by creating a split personality to escape reality.

Thinking about this, Stark quickened his pace. He reached the staircase and looked up. The upper floor remained quiet as before.

Stark and Steve went to the second floor. There were few rooms here, and none of them could be opened. Stark looked at one of the doorknobs and said, “Did you notice? If the doorknob and lock are special, it might indicate that there’s someone inside. But this…”

Stark looked at the doorknob—it was a very ordinary spherical doorknob, exactly the same as the doorknobs on the two doors they had examined earlier. Shaking his head, Stark said, “There might not be another personality of Schiller inside. It’s possible that he stores other things in there.”

“In other words, we need to find a place with a special doorknob to possibly find the remaining personalities?”

“Correct. Next, you head to the third floor, and I’ll go to the fourth. We’ll meet up when we find a place with a special doorknob.”

Having said that, the two began to act separately. Steve was responsible for the odd-numbered floors, while Stark took the even-numbered ones. They searched like this for a while. In the end, Stark discovered something special on the tenth floor. He stood by the balcony railing, waving at Steve below:

“Over here! There’s something very different here. Come quickly.”

Steve hurriedly ran up and arrived by Stark’s side. They both looked up at the sign on the door, which had three big words written on it:

“Insane Asylum.”

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