The Path of Death was exceptionally calm. There were no explosions from colliding energies, nor any of the bizarre sights that accompanied teleportation. The instant Stark stepped into the passage, he felt as though he had died. Buffeted by frigid energy, he drifted through the corridor as if carried by a current. Under the force of one powerful push and another pulling force, he felt himself hurtling forward at an incalculable, extreme speed.
Other than his entire body going numb, the teleportation experience was extraordinarily good. It was just too cold—so cold that Stark felt his brain was about to freeze solid.
He had no energy to think about Thanos or Black Widow. The anxiety that had constantly surfaced in the past seemed to have been completely suppressed. A thought rose in his heart: this place felt comfortable. He almost wanted to sleep here forever.
The Path of Death was exceptionally stable, but it was not long. The instant he left it, his normal awareness immediately returned.
The familiar sensation of spatial distortion struck him again. If the Path of Death had been a high-speed train, then this stretch was an extremely slow roller coaster—one that would never stop flipping over. He knew he was going home!
"Ugh—cough, cough! Blech—" Stark vomited before even opening his eyes, throwing up violently as though he were about to cough up his gallbladder.
Through his blurry vision, he saw what seemed to be Pepper rushing over to support him.
After taking several deep breaths, Stark finally got to his feet with her help.
When he turned back, he found that his companions were no better off than he was.
Nothing had happened on the way there, but Thor, tough as steel, was now kneeling on one knee and gasping for breath.
Judging by