James's ears twitched. He realized he was in an immense, tranquil space. With his hearing, he could make out only the faint, steady sound of breathing and heartbeats in the distance.
He had been teleported countless times, and had traveled through portals created by the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj, Azazel, and even the Tesseract.
But just now, James Howlett had felt as if he'd plunged into a raging river, swept upstream by a rainbow-like torrent of energy and carried away from his world.
It was a novel sensation, unlike any other experience of spatial travel he'd ever had.
He opened his eyes. Beneath his feet lay a deep-hued golden floor, smooth and seamless. A massive circular array of Rune symbols shimmered with rainbow light before gradually fading away without a trace.
It was an incredibly vast palace. The towering dark-gold pillars narrowed to a single point in the distance, far beyond where his gaze could reach. There were no windows, yet light filled every corner, as if the palace itself were the source of all illumination.
The ceiling was adorned with gorgeous, vivid murals. Every line and detail glimmered with golden light, depicting the history of the Aesir and the many great deeds of All-Father Odin in ruling the Nine Realms.
Warriors stood in formation on either side of the palace, gripping golden spears and clad in full armor. Their expressions, glimpsed through the T-shaped openings in their helmets, were cold and haughty.
James drew a faint breath through his nose. The air carried the faintest scent of soil mingled with wine. He turned around and finally saw a brilliant golden throne, raised in tiers.
The one-eyed old man, clad in golden armor with white hair and beard, was casually holding Mjolnir, which James had been gripping tightly. His gaze wandered