The Sanctum Sanctorum was as busy as ever today. Strange had finished a day's work, but he was still on the phone discussing business with a client.
He walked out while talking on the phone. The moment he opened his office door, he saw Schiller outside, just about to knock. Strange gave him a quick once-over, hurriedly said a few words to the person on the other end, and hung up.
"What is it? Do you need something?" Strange asked.
But then he saw Schiller take a few steps back and study him from head to toe. That cold, focused gaze sent a chill of sweat down Strange's back.
"You're not Doctor. Who are you?"
"You don't look like someone who would notice that right away." Schiller spoke very slowly, enunciating the beginning and end of every word with perfect clarity. There was none of the hurried rhythm of a busy man; he was as slow as a record player that had just begun to turn.
Strange froze. He felt like he had just been insulted, but he could not be sure. He turned his head aside and coughed twice before saying, "Whichever Schiller you are, what do you want from me?"
"I heard you founded a magic school. May I have a look around?"
"Kamar-Taj?" Strange frowned in confusion. "Weren't you not very interested in that? The Ancient One invited you to see our progress several times, and you always refused. You said it would get in the way of making money."
"I changed my mind," Schiller said evenly, without the slightest trace of awkwardness or embarrassment.
"All right, I suppose that's fine. Do you want to go now, or wait until I finish up—"
"Now."
Strange took a step back. This version of Schiller had such a forbidding