The Next Target: The Color of Time!

Knowhere.

When Link reappeared on the Collector's Throne, the vast Colony built inside an Ancient Celestial's skull erupted in a frenzy of awe and excitement.

The new King had returned.

And he had returned with a glorious victory, one decisive enough to go down in cosmic history.

News that Thanos's Fleet had been annihilated and that two members of the Black Order were dead while one had been captured had already spread through every corner of Knowhere at a speed that seemed to outpace light. To the merchants, mercenaries, and information brokers who made their living in the universe's gray areas, it meant a new era had arrived with an undeniable roar.

The old Order had been broken. A new reign was taking shape.

In the throne room, Link lounged against the back of his seat, his left hand resting casually on the armrest. The Laws of reality and power intertwined around his fingers and glowed with a fearsome majesty.

Below him stood the leaders of Knowhere's major factions. Among them were a mineral trader with three eyes and the body of a giant slug, an arms dealer made entirely of mechanical prosthetics with red light flickering in his eyes, and gang leaders from all manner of strange species.

Not long ago, they had been the defiant little emperors of this lawless place. Now they bowed their heads like docile sheep and laid the most precious offerings from their territories before the Throne to pledge their loyalty to the new King.

There were crates of rare metals shimmering with energy, enormous eggs from extinct creatures, and even several beautiful women from different civilizations, shackled in chains and presented as "slaves."

"Boring."

Link looked at the vulgar offerings and felt nothing.

Do these people think I'm like the Collector?

*Money, resources,