The Unspoken Understanding of the Creator Gods

Like a drowning man finally breaking free of the deep sea's giant hand, they felt the terrifying pressure that could crush a soul vanish in an instant.

Tony gasped for air as his armor's life-support system ran at full power. He braced himself against the wall and looked toward the meditation chamber.

Thor knelt on one knee, propping himself up with Stormbreaker. The king of Asgard was pale.

Strange sat on the floor. The light of the Eye of Agamotto had gone out.

Chu Hang walked out of the meditation chamber.

Black hair, gray T-shirt, jeans. He looked no different from usual.

But Tony knew something had changed. At that moment, his armor's sensors had registered nothing. It wasn't that their readings had dropped to zero. The sensors themselves had become meaningless.

Chu Hang stopped in front of them and looked around.

The meditation chamber's Vibranium door was gone. It hadn't been destroyed; it had simply evaporated. Cracks ran throughout the underground base, every ceiling light had burst, and only the armor's emergency lights flashed in the dark.

Tony opened his mouth, then found he had no idea what to say.

Chu Hang raised his right hand.

Tony blinked.

The floor beneath his feet was restored, its alloy panels as good as new. The overhead lights were on, the cracks in the walls were gone, and the coffee cup that had shattered stood intact on the table, steam still rising from it.

Tony reached out and touched the cup. It was real.

Strange shot to his feet as the Eye of Agamotto spun wildly. But he saw nothing. No trace of time reversing, no ripple from space being repaired, no residual magic.

Matter had simply been restored from nothing.

No, not restored. Strange's face darkened. It had been redefined. Chu