It pulsates in his hands, glowing deeply red in the dark room. Its warmth flow through his body, travels upwards like electricity over his skin. The beating pulse is slowly drowning out the shouts from below, leaving its little circle of light the only stimulant around.
"Hello" it says without lips, voice smooth and calm. He doesn't stagger, he has seen worse things in the last few weeks. Instead he nods slowly, bringing the bright orb closer to his face. "We could solve this. We could solve everything." It does make sense, he tells himself. If only he had this pulse, this warmth, he could definitely solve everything.
"Yes. You needn't be perfect now, we can be perfect together." Perfect. He can be perfect, can save the others, can tell Teddy that all is finally well. Perfect means control, doesn't it? He can control this and then they can all go home, he can tell the others that it's all right now because he knows what he should to. He nods.
"Perfect. Hold me close, hold me close and never let go." Obligating he brings the orb to his chest until it's beating in tandem with his own racing heart. The warmth burns against his skin for a second and he has to stop himself from pulling it away. Then it stops and there's a waste amount of nothing. He opens eyes he didn't realise he closed, staring down at the landscape that unfolds beneath him. Literary unfolds, page after page of colourful pictures as far as he can see. Somewhere there he glimpses Iron Man, somewhere else a stray, purple arrow.
"What is this?"
"The future. The present. Your world. All worlds." The serene voice is everywhere now, echoes through the space as if there were walls out there. He can't see any walls, just the pictures spreading out like posters in a music store window. It's familiar, it feels like home. Yet it's still not home, still something that is not quite right.
"That's not right. We're... We can't see the future."
"Dear." It darkens, the light and pictures fading into nothing. The warmth vanishes with it and no matter how he reaches out he can't catch up to it, he can just brush his fingertips against it and feel a last, fading pulse. A cold replaces it, a cold that hardens beneath his feet and chills his very soul. The air is suddenly heavy, pulling him down until he hits an even harder surface.
"Billy, what the hell was that?" Kate asks, her voice sounding like it's reaching through a far away mist.
"Nothing. Everything. It doesn't matter, I'm fine."
No, I don't really know what's going on either. Wishfullfilling mystic orbs, I suppose.