Chapter 517: Confession in a Dream Tonight (Part 2)

When human consciousness sinks into a dream, it is often difficult to realize when one has entered the dream. Steve was the same. When the pattering rain gradually stopped, he opened his eyes again and had already arrived at a slightly familiar place.

He squinted his eyes, blocked the light with his hand, stood up, and looked at the environment here, discovering that this seemed to be a somewhat old laboratory.

Even if Steve was not a scientific researcher, he could tell that this laboratory should not be a product after the 21st century. Although if viewed from the perspective of the last century, the equipment here was very advanced, it could not cover up the slightly narrow layout here and the friction marks on the long-used experimental table.

Suddenly, Steve discovered something he was very familiar with. It was an experimental table. The reason this thing was familiar to him was that a dent on the cabinet door was something he had personally repaired.

At that time, Howard made that vibranium shield for him. Neither of them had used this kind of weapon and didn't realize the lethality of this thing at all. Steve took the shield and threw it out directly. The shield hit the opposite wall with a "clatter," and when it bounced back, it cut the chandelier's rope with a "swish."

With a "clatter," the chandelier hit the ground. Steve instinctively dodged backward, and with a "bang," the cabinet door of the experimental table behind him was dented by him. Howard was furious, and Steve could only repair the cabinet door he had damaged overnight.

Bypassing this experimental table, many familiar things appeared in front of him: parts of the hovercar that Howard often boasted to him about, various models piled in the corner of the room, and even the Playboy poster on the wall that had peeled off halfway...

Steve felt as if he saw his old friend Howard busy at the experimental table, while he sat at the table behind, wolfing down a burger.

At that time, they were both very busy. Howard was busy providing various logistical weapons, and he was busy fighting the enemy.

Recalling the images in his mind, Steve sat down next to the small table against the wall. He even smelled the aroma of the burger.

"Crackle," the sound of the wrapping paper being torn open rang in his ears. When he turned his head, what he saw was not Howard who had finally finished his work and started eating, but Stark.

Stark held a cheeseburger in his hand, and the aroma of the cheeseburger that had just been torn open was overflowing. Stark turned his head, saw Steve swallowing, changed the hand holding his burger, and said: "Don't look, there's no food here."

"Is this your consciousness world?" Steve asked.

"That's right." Stark answered while eating: "You must first enter my dream, and then you can conduct dream travel."

"I'm very sorry, Tony..." Steve lowered his head, his tone full of sadness.

When one is truly in this room full of details and memories, someone's death is no longer a cold sentence or a notice. Every detail here would make Steve realize that Howard had once lived in this world, left countless traces here, and his life came to an abrupt end at a certain time. The traces here had never been updated again.

When Steve saw all this, he realized that the harm Howard's death brought to Stark was much greater than he imagined, because Stark, like his father, was a super genius, and their memory was many times stronger than ordinary people. Therefore, he did not have the medicine that was best for healing wounds for ordinary people—forgetting.

At least, in this dream space, Stark retained all the details of his time with Howard, and now, all this was presented in front of Steve again.

Stark walked over and sat down opposite the small table. The other stool opposite the table looked shorter, obviously for a child to sit on. Now, Stark, who was already very tall, sat on that small stool, looking a bit funny.

Steve and Stark sat at both ends of the table with their backs against the wall, one high and one low, just like a balance.

Steve turned his head and saw Stark, who was sinking lower than him. He knew that if this was really a balance, then Stark was heavier than him because he was carrying the weight of his father's death.

Only by seeing a person sink because of this and fall in front of one's eyes does one know that death and separation are the unbearable weight of life.

"I let you enter my consciousness world, not to hear you apologize." Stark said. He took a deep breath, seemingly making a decision that consumed a lot of courage. He said:

"I read a lot of books related to psychology, and I did a lot of analysis. I think this should be helpful for your condition."

Stark looked up through the glass and saw the flashing lights of the laboratory opposite. He said:

"The era that belonged to you and him has passed and will never come back again. Many people you knew are no longer here, and everything you once possessed is lost."

"You are desperately trying to find someone to prove that you once existed, but your existence itself is the evidence that they once existed."

"You and your memories, the time you spent with Howard that exists in your mind, is another form of his existence. It is the most solid souvenir left after his death."

"Therefore, I should thank you, because you can live forever, and I won't. So, until I die, I can see the traces of his existence from you..."

Steve could no longer control his tears. Those azure eyes shattered into a vast ocean, and between the tides, the light was like a pearl born from a clam.

The two were silent for a while, and Tony stood up first. He said:

"At the beginning, when Professor X built the Shining Alliance base in the dream, he once marked our dreams in that base to facilitate pulling us over every night. Therefore, we can follow his marks to the Shining Alliance base."

"And after arriving at the Shining Alliance base, we can find Schiller's dream marked by Professor X inside the base."

Seeing Steve still sitting on the chair without a word, Stark didn't intend to explain anymore. He closed his eyes and began to release his consciousness, looking for the path that might exist.

Silently, the room walls faded, the light became brighter, tiles were laid, and the sofa fell from the sky. In the blink of an eye, they arrived at the reception hall of the base.

Stark breathed a sigh of relief and said: "Fortunately, thanks to magic, I only need to provide ideas and navigate. All this is really too stream-of-consciousness."

Saying that, he said with some disbelief: "So, what kind of monsters are those who can walk freely in the dream?"

"Is this a transfer station?" Steve finally asked.

"That's right, let me find if there are any marks leading to other people's dreams..." Stark closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, and began to feel the structure of this dream. After a while, he raised his eyebrows and said: "Found it."

But then, he frowned again, opened his eyes, and looked at the air, as if scanning something. He said: "... What are these?"

beqege.

"What's wrong?" Steve walked up and asked.

"I found some paths that seem to be able to connect to other places..."

"Isn't that great? We can go directly."

"The problem is, there are no road signs."

Stark sighed and said: "Professor X might have other ways to distinguish the differences between these paths. After all, I don't know the principle of mutants' psychic abilities, but anyway, I can't see where these roads lead."

"Are there many roads? Can't we try them one by one?"

"We can..." After Stark finished speaking, he paused and then said: "Let's try the first one first."

"Swish," they returned to Stark's dream space again. Stark shook his head and said: "It seems our luck is not good."

After they returned to the reception hall of the Shining Alliance, Stark chose the second road again. After disappearing again, they appeared in a museum.

As soon as Stark landed, he saw a gun in the display cabinet in front of him. After walking over, he found that it was an old rifle, a bit too dilapidated, and it was not easy to judge what model it was just by its appearance.

He lowered his head and saw the display stand introduction column written:

"Bode Smith, 18 years old, from a farm in Michigan, loves sweets the most, his biggest wish is to take his mother to New York, and he can't put down the newly issued firearms..."

At first, Stark didn't react to what this introduction had to do with the gun inside, until he saw some bloodstains on the bottom of the gun in the light of the display cabinet.

His finger pressing on the display stand introduction panel paused. Walking one step further, there was another display stand with an old notebook inside. The introduction panel read:

"David Petrov, a very great engineer, alcoholic but with a loud voice, likes to hum Soviet songs while repairing tanks..."

Moving forward, there were many more display cabinets with all kinds of junk inside: keys, belts, glasses, towels, and even thermometers. At least in the real world, no museum would put these things.

But they all corresponded to a person's name, as well as some chaotic and unsystematic records. Those records were often only one or two sentences, perhaps what they liked to eat most, what family they had, and what their biggest wish was.

Turning a corner, Stark saw Steve standing at the end of another row of display cabinets, staring at something in the display cabinet. After he walked over, he found that it was a pair of gloves inside, the finger parts were very slender, and it didn't look like something a man would wear.

Stark moved his gaze down and saw a name written on the display cabinet introduction panel—"Peggy Carter."

"... At that time, we were sitting on the steps in front of the garage chatting. She said her dream since childhood was to be an artist, but few people in that era would support a girl working independently."

"I said I would draw a picture for her. She didn't believe it at all because I didn't look like someone who could afford brushes and paints, and there were no such things in the army. So, I burned a piece of charcoal and drew the way she repaired tanks."

"She was very pleasantly surprised. It could be seen that she really wanted that painting, but she didn't have the money to buy it. So, she threw me a pair of her gloves. When I looked at her expression, I knew I was fascinated..."

Steve pressed his finger on the glass of the display cabinet, and then he raised his head again, looking at the rows of display cabinets, and said: "Perhaps many people think that when I saw Peggy for the last time, I should be incomparably sad..."

"But in fact, except for the initial sadness about death and separation, I even felt a little relieved. She had children and grandchildren, was very happy, lay quietly on the hospital bed, and could see her former lover before she died. This was already very happy."

"And more people..." Steve turned his head to look at the objects in the glass display cabinets and said: "I can't even remember how they all died, but in my memory, among the owners of the relics, those who could die of old age are probably less than one in a thousand."

"Some were hit by bullets and died, some had shrapnel inserted into their chests, some died of dysentery, and others were frozen to death. I was not present when they died, just a message brought from afar..."

Steve looked up at the museum and said:

"Tony, I must apologize for this, apologize for my impulsive behavior in trying to protect Bucky, but I am not making excuses for myself. Yet, when I heard the news of Howard's death, what I felt was not sadness, but numbness."

"I heard too much news like this. On a certain year, month, and day, someone who had met me on a certain battlefield died."

"They might have lain in a trench with me, might have exchanged bullets with me, covered each other to light cigarettes, and might even have covered my retreat and saved my life. But when they died, nothing was left."

Steve took a deep breath and looked up at the display cabinet above. He said:

"Perhaps you are right, that era has passed and will never come back again."

"My existence is the evidence that they once lived and contributed to the peace of this world. Perhaps, this is the world's last mercy to a veteran..."

Stark closed his eyes. He felt that the edges of his eyelashes were wet.

Death and separation are the unbearable weight of life, and the man in front of him has endured it, and endured it thousands of times.

Stark's sigh slowly dissipated in the dream space. In the center of the museum corridor filled with display cabinets, the faint shadow under the light divided the corridor into two halves. Steve stood at one end, and Stark stood at the other.

Neither of them heard that, accompanied by a "rumbling" muffled sound, one end of the originally tilted balance fell down. The balance returned to equilibrium, and Iron Man and Captain America stood on the same line again. ===== CHAPTER 518 =====