[His eyes are peeking betwixt ungloved fingers, wide and wild. Edward does not blink throughout the entire transmission, but his pupils are consistently darting to and fro, darting about at a hummingbird’s pace. He looks disheveled, wretched and yet glowing with some intangible, nigh-golden force.]
I can-I have tried-over these past few hours-
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Daniel Rand. Unendurable hatred for Norman Osborn. I still--still can touch it God it's painful.
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How painful?
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Incredibly. A thousand--or million--or infinite--needs, cravings, I know them. They are not mine and I know them.
Scathach.
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You're glowing.
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Why the children? How can you balance that with your need for independence?
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And Batman well I knew that one and how does he work in? How can you manage this schism?
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Stark.
[Pause.]
You need to watch Harvey Dent--there's--his mission is impossible. He's a don Quixote, stop it.
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You can't go back. Time won't let you.
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