Original God plus Marvel: Meet Thanos and start calling for help

Chapter 393 Mental Hospital

"Listen Mark, the world you know in your head is not real, you can't go on."

Mark looked at Haro talking in front of him and felt a sense of absurdity.

"Not true?" Mark whispered with a smile. This Dr. Harrow tried to deny his life of the past few decades with just a few words. He was so arrogant and weird.

"Then what do you say is true? What is true!"

Mark's face flushed, his body trembled, and he stared at the other party and asked loudly.

"Mark! Mark! Calm down!!"

'Dr. Harrow' Dr. Harrow looked at the emotional Mark and quickly raised his hands, trying to calm him down.

"Don't get excited. Listen to me. Our world is not material. Our world is spiritual. Do you understand?"

Dr. Harrow tapped his head with the pen he was holding and continued, "We can only indirectly judge the essence of reality. For example, this pen is just a writing tool for me, right?"

Mark stared at the pen and didn't interrupt. He wanted to hear what Harrow had to say.

Mark's silence encouraged Harrow, and he continued to tell the story seriously.

"But this pen is just a teething toy for my dog. Both properties are correct, right? It's just a different perspective."

"I just hope you can make a realistic assessment of your situation and not get caught up in the 'sanctuary' you've constructed in your mind."

Mark seemed to have heard something ridiculous.

"Shelter?"

Harrow spread his palms helplessly: "Yes, you know, your Steven, don't you?"

Mark opened his eyes wide and looked at Harrow in surprise.

Harrow noticed the change in Mark's expression and continued, "You care too much about the trauma you suffered in the past. You need to learn to move on. Every time we talk, your emotions easily become sensitive and excited. I hope you can make more efforts to face your inner experiences and the core of your personality."

This speech therapy that sounded like a sermon made Mark feel like a flame was rising in his chest. However, Harold looked at Mark seriously, as if expecting his response.

Mark's anger burned even more fiercely in his heart. He stood up suddenly and slammed his hands on the table.

"Shut UP!!!"

Harrow was not surprised by Mark's angry reaction. He frowned slightly, sighed, and said earnestly: "Mark, listen, if we can't sit down calmly and record your feelings, we will never be able to solve the problem."

"Stop talking, I don't want to hear it!"

Mark's eyes were wide open, his hands were clenched into fists, he stood up suddenly from the wheelchair and wanted to walk, but his legs were like noodles and did not obey his brain's command.

He fell heavily to the ground with a dull sound, and even the 'Goddess Paimon' in his hand was accidentally thrown away.

Mark kept trying to get up, groping on the ground with his hands, his body trembling slightly, and staggering towards the door.

The constant harassment behind him was like a spoon inserted into his mind and stirring, making his head buzz.

"This is the aftereffect of the sedative. It will heal after a while. Don't move around in a hurry."

Mark continued to try to leave. Seeing this, Harold hurried forward and tried to help Mark up. He said anxiously, "Mark, don't do this. If you give up on yourself, I can't help you."

"Really, I know how you feel. I also have mental illness. I also have mental breakdowns, manic episodes, and then depression. I can understand how you feel now. This is treatable."

Mark shook his hand off fiercely and roared, “Stay away from me!”

Finally, he reached the door with difficulty, but no matter how Mark pressed the door handle, the door of the clinic still could not be opened.

“Open the door!!”

Haro, leaning on his cane, stood in front of Mark who was yelling at him excitedly. He spoke slowly: "Mark, running away is not a solution. Only by facing it can you really get out of the predicament."

"FUCK!!"

Harrow's words made Mark feel a strong sense of panic in his heart. He couldn't help but doubt his past life experiences, the memories in his mind, and even his understanding of the world.

Was all this just his imagination after he got sick? He couldn't accept this reality anyway.

He wanted to escape, leave this uneasy room, and leave this weird Dr. Harrow.

Mark leaned against the door of the clinic, disgust and uneasiness overwhelming him like a tide.

His eyes darted around in panic and he held the door handle with both hands, trying repeatedly to open it, but to no avail.

"Mark, let's talk."

The approaching Dr. Harrow made Mark no longer hesitate. As if he had made up his mind, he gritted his teeth, clenched his right fist, and raised his elbow high.

He took a deep breath, then used all his strength to smash his elbow against the glass above the door.

With a "crash", the glass shattered instantly and fragments flew everywhere.

Mark ignored the pain of being scratched by the glass and quickly put his hand through the broken part and reached for the door lock outside.

His fingers fumbled nervously, and finally, the lock opened.

Mark pushed the door open and rushed out like a wild horse.

The hurried and hurried footsteps brought up a breeze mixed with the smell of blood.

The broken door and broken glass on the ground were left as witnesses of his hasty escape.

The world seemed to have turned pale, with white tiles, white walls, the flickering white halo of the chandelier above, and a group of people in white coats chasing after them.

Mark held his breath tightly, his heart seemed to jump out of his throat.

At this moment, he was like a frightened rabbit, curled up and hiding in an empty clinic.

Through the blurry glass on the door, he nervously watched what was happening outside, beads of sweat oozing from his forehead.

When he saw the medical staff who had been looking for him finally leave this location, his tense body relaxed slightly. He breathed a long sigh of relief, a look of relief on his face for surviving the disaster.

dong dong dong, dong dong dong.

Suddenly, there was a dull sound of hitting the wood behind him. This abrupt sound was particularly scary in the quiet clinic. Mark widened his eyes in horror and slowly turned his head.

I saw an ancient Egyptian pharaoh's wooden coffin quietly placed in the center of the room, and the strange sound came from this mysterious coffin.

"Let me out! Please, let me out!!"

Mark was very familiar with this voice. Even through the wooden board, he recognized it immediately. It was clearly his own voice.

Mark gritted his teeth and pushed open the heavy wooden cover.

With a dull sound, the wooden cover slowly moved away, revealing a man who looked exactly like him.

"Steven?" "Mark?"

The pale light illuminated Steven's slightly confused face.

There was uncertainty in his tone, and his unique British accent sounded as familiar as ever.

There was a flash of surprise in Mark's eyes, then the light shone brightly, and a brilliant smile bloomed on his face.

Without hesitation, he strode forward, opened his arms, and hugged Steven tightly.

Mark's arms were wrapped tightly around Steven, so tightly that it seemed as if he wanted to merge the other into his body.

His face was filled with excitement and joy, as if he had found a long-lost relative, and there were even tears in the corners of his eyes.

"It's so good to see you, Steven!"

Although he didn't know what happened and they became two independent individuals, Steven was also excited to see Mark. He didn't want to be locked in the coffin again.

"How can this be?"

As Steven asked, he couldn't help but touch Mark's body. He felt his muscles and temperature. Obviously, their "components" should be exactly the same. He didn't know if it was a psychological factor, but Steven felt that his body seemed to be tighter and better.

Mark was immersed in the joy of reunion, but he was startled by Steven's action. He pushed him away and protested loudly, his voice split: "This is another... Bah! What are you doing!"

Steven was startled, his face a little embarrassed, and he quickly explained: "I'm just curious, this is amazing."

Steven walked slowly around Mark, his eyes wide open, sparkling with excitement, his face full of surprise as if he had discovered a new world.

Mark looked at Steven with some helplessness and amusement, and shook his head slightly.

He opened his hands openly, intending to let the other party see enough, but after a while, he suddenly thought of something, and Mark's eyes instantly became serious.

"What is your last memory?"

"Anubis, judgement!"

Steven answered without hesitation, a look of awe on his face as he recalled the chill in his body at the moment when the claws dug out his heart.

Hearing this answer, Mark let out a sigh of relief and put down the heavy stone in his heart.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension on his face faded.

Steven couldn't wait to ask, "So... did we pass the trial?"

His eyes were full of anticipation as he stared at Mark closely.

Mark looked around and then turned his gaze back to Steven, seeming to want to say something. His lips moved but in the end he didn't say anything. The meaning was self-evident.

Steven couldn't help but feel depressed when he saw this.

So is it still a failure?

Is he the one holding everyone back?

He really can't do anything right.

Boom boom boom!

Emo moment, there was a knock on the door of the room.

The sound of "dong dong dong" knocking on the door made their hearts rise to their throats in an instant.

Through the frosted glass, they saw a white mass floating outside, swaying like a silent white ghost.

Their eyes were fixed on the blurry figure, and they swallowed at the same time.

Was it the medical staff, or something else? !

In this strange place, a sense of crisis lingered in the hearts of the two.

Next second,