Not long after Peter and the others left, Schiller's sanatorium received more visitors. This time, it was the Robins from Pride's universe. Rarely, all three of them had come, and their timing was just right. Schiller suspected they had deliberately arrived in time for breakfast.
Schiller was making breakfast. The three of them made themselves at home and sat down at the dining table. Schiller brought over the sandwiches, then asked, "Have you found your teammates yet? Or will it just be the three of you?"
"No, we still need two more people. We aren't very good at space combat, and it takes three people to operate a spaceship. Without anyone else, we'll be short a lookout." Dick said.
"That's exactly why we came." Tim picked up a sandwich, glanced at the filling, took a bite, and said, "We want to team up with Spider-Man. Do you have any recommendations, Doctor?"
"That depends on what kind of Spider-Man you want."
"Spider-Man comes in varieties?" Jason asked over his shoulder, somewhat indistinctly. "Does Black Widow count as a Spider-Man? Can we ask her?"
Dick coughed after choking on his food. Schiller set juice on the table, sat down to eat as well, and said, "Black Widow may not be Spider-Man, but you can certainly try. Still, I doubt Nick will let her go. He's been crazily busy lately."
"No, no, we should stick with a traditional Spider-Man." Dick said.
"Is there a quieter one?" Jason asked. "Sorry, but we already aren't very good at flying spaceships. If he keeps talking nonstop, we'll have even less chance of concentrating. We might end up in a Car Accident."
"Not every Spider-Man is a chatterbox. The quiet ones are often quite formidable fighters, but I'm not sure they'd be willing to team up with