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 and found himself in a slightly familiar place.

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

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

Suddenly, Steve discovered something he was very familiar with. It was a laboratory bench. The reason this thing was familiar to him was because a dent on the cabinet door was something he had repaired himself.

At that time, Howard had made that vibranium shield for him. Neither of them had used this kind of weapon and didn't realize the lethality of this thing. 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 rope of the chandelier with a "whoosh."

With a "thud," the chandelier hit the ground. Steve instinctively dodged back, and with a "bang," the cabinet door of the laboratory bench behind him was dented. Howard was furious, and Steve could only repair the cabinet door he had damaged overnight.

Bypassing this laboratory bench, 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 a Playboy poster on the wall that had already peeled off halfway...

Steve felt as if he saw his old friend Howard busy at the laboratory bench, 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 could even smell the aroma of the burger.

"Crackle," the sound of the wrapping paper being torn open rang in his ears. He turned his head, but 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 unwrapped was overflowing. Stark turned his head, saw Steve swallowing his saliva, switched 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 before you can travel in the dream."

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

When one is truly in such a room full of details and memories, someone's death is no longer a cold sentence or a notification letter. Every detail here would make Steve realize that Howard had once lived in this world, leaving countless traces here, and his life had come 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 had 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 every detail 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, and now the very tall Stark sitting on that small stool looked a bit ridiculous.

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

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

Only by seeing a person sink down 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 having made a decision that consumed quite a bit of courage. He said:

"I have read many books related to psychology, and I have done 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 return. Many people you knew are gone, 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, those times you spent with Howard that exist in your mind, are another form of his existence, the most solid souvenir left after his death."

"Therefore, I should thank you, because you can live on, 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 deep blue eyes shattered into a vast ocean, and between the rising and falling tides, the light was like a pearl produced by a clam.

The two remained silent for a while. Tony stood up first and said:

"At the beginning, when Professor X established the base of the Shining Alliance in the dream, he had marked our dreams in that base to facilitate pulling us over every night. Therefore, we can go to the base of the Shining Alliance along his marks."

"And after arriving at the base of the Shining Alliance, 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 possible path.

Silently, the walls of the room 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 this, he said a bit incredulously: "So, what kind of monsters are those who can travel freely in the dream?"

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

"That's right, let me see if there are any marks connecting 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 an eyebrow and said: "Found it."

But then, he frowned, opened his eyes, and looked at the air, as if scanning something. He said: "... What are all 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 there 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 what the principle of mutants' psychic ability is, but anyway, I can't see where these roads lead."

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

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

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

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

As soon as Stark landed, he saw a gun in the display case in front of him. After walking over, he found that it was an old rifle, a bit too broken, and it was hard to judge what model it was just by its appearance.

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

"Bode Smith, 18 years old, from a farm in Michigan, loves sweets, biggest wish is to take his mother to New York, loves the newly issued firearms..."

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

His finger pressing on the introduction panel of the display stand paused. Taking another step forward, there was another display stand with an old notebook inside, and the introduction panel read:

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

Moving forward, there were many more display cases containing all kinds of junk: ubiquitous key rings, belts, glasses, towels, and even thermometers. At least in the real world, no museum would display these things.

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

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

Stark lowered his gaze and saw a name written on the introduction panel of the display case—"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 her repairing the tank."

"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 fingers on the glass of the display case, then he looked up at the rows of display cases 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, and lay quietly on the hospital bed. Being able to see her former lover before she died was already very happy."

"And more people..." Steve turned his head to look at the objects in the glass display cases 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 probably accounted for less than one in a thousand."

"Some were hit by bullets and died, some had shrapnel inserted into their chests, some suffered from dysentery, and others froze to death. I wasn't there when they died, just received a message from afar..."

Steve looked up at the museum and said:

"Tony, I must apologize for this, apologize for the behavior of impulsively protecting Bucky. But I am not defending myself. However, when I heard the news of Howard's death, what I felt wasn't sadness, but numbness."

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

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

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

"Perhaps you are right, that era has passed and will never return."

"My existence is the evidence that they once lived and contributed to the peace of this world. Perhaps, this is the last mercy of this world to an old soldier..."

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

Death and separation were the unbearable weight of life, and the man in front of him had 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 cases, 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 balance that had been tilted fell down. The balance returned to equilibrium, and Iron Man and Captain America stood on the same line again. ===== CHAPTER 518 =====