Age of Ultron

A month later, Asgard.

The light of the Bifrost faded, and Chu Hang appeared before the throne hall of the Asgardian Palace.

Two rows of gold-armored guards stood motionless with halberds in hand, like statues cast from gold. Their gazes passed over him and settled on the solitary figure at the far end of the hall.

Odin sat upon the throne, his single eye without a ripple, as though he had not moved for ten thousand years. He leaned on Gungnir, the Eternal Spear, and the faint glow at its tip shone brighter than every torch in the hall.

An ancient, majestic presence filled the air, like time itself had frozen solid.

Chu Hang climbed the steps one at a time, his combat boots producing hollow echoes against the marble floor.

"A month is up." He stopped before the throne. His voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly through the entire hall.

"You are punctual." Odin's voice was aged and touched with weariness, but every word carried unquestionable power.

Chu Hang did not waste any more words. He slashed a hand through the air before him. A tear opened in the Pocket Dimension, and a mass of dark-red energy, like liquid metal, was carefully released.

It was sealed within a transparent spatial cube, yet its reality-warping nature still caused nearly imperceptible ripples in the surrounding light and space.

The Aether.

Odin raised a hand. A golden box engraved with intricate runes flew from his sleeve and hovered beneath the Aether.

Chu Hang removed the spatial seal, and the dark-red mass of energy slowly descended into the box. The lid shut, and every anomaly vanished in an instant.

The golden box flew back into Odin's hand.

"Your understanding of it exceeds my expectations." Odin's lone eye fixed on Chu Hang