"Breathe! Take a deep breath, Tony!"
Seeing Stark's body sway, Schiller hurried over, then turned and shouted into the air, "Jarvis! Oxygen mask!"
Stark shook his head, braced one hand against the glass curtain wall, turned around, and said, "I'm fine. I might just..."
"Just what?"
Stark drew a deep breath and said, "Someone with exactly your face killed me. You can't expect me to accept that so quickly."
Then he turned halfway around again and spread his hands. "You're definitely going to laugh at me, just like Steve did. He had absolutely no reaction to this."
"Did another version of me kill him too?"
"No. He jumped down himself to save me."
"All right, Tony. That was something I didn't know. Watching someone who looked exactly like your friend kill you, then watching another friend die trying to save you... that really was a bit much. This time, I won't laugh at you just yet."
Stark smiled, though it looked somewhat forced.
"You're getting too immersed," Schiller said. "Of course, it may also be because the game is so realistic that it makes you feel as though you've lived another life. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. You'll be better at role-playing than most people."
Stark walked over and sat beside the chair, his fingertips still trembling slightly. He said, "Tell me about your actual business. It'll help distract me."
"It's not really anything important." Schiller sat down across from him and said, "I thought none of you had returned yet, so I went to the Avengers base first, intending to leave you a note. But I ran into Steve, and he said you weren't doing well. So I came over."
"He said I wasn't doing well?" Stark snorted. "He meant I was going to settle scores with