As he struggled to gain his bearings, a square ship hovered its way toward him. It reached nearer and suddenly broke apart into four smaller ships, which descended and surrounded him. Before he could act, a pair of grotesque aliens exited each ship and aimed their weapons at him.

  “Hold!” he cried, hands up. “I am not your foe.”

  Ignoring him, the aliens fired all at once. With a jolt, energy coursed through Thor as he was wrapped in electrical netting from all sides, knocking him onto his back. He couldn’t speak or move as the aliens closed in.

  Something caught Thor’s attention in the air above the aliens. A sleek ship, one well cared for and vastly different from the ones the aliens had descended from, came to a halt, hovering above them. The top slid open, and out jumped… a woman! This was no ordinary woman. Her helmet revealed her face and she was smiling, apparently ready to enjoy the fight about to ensue.

  As she landed, she knocked out two aliens with one punch from her brass-knuckled fist. She turned and kicked away two more. The bracers that laced up her forearms began to expand as though alive, and covered her entire forearm and fist. Suddenly, an armored fist shot from her hand and mimicked her gestures, grasping the last fleeing alien by the foot, picking him up, and slamming him to the ground. The armor retracted to her fist, and her bracers diminished, returning to their original design on her arms.

  The netting that held Thor still sent shock waves through his body, making it difficult for him to talk and impossible to move. Nevertheless, he smiled. He recognized what this woman was.

  “You… are… Valkyrie.” He smiled, speaking through the pain of the electricity coursing through his body. The Valkyrie were some of Asgard’s fiercest warriors. He tried to reach out to his savior. “I… am… Thor. Son of… Odin.”

  “And I care because… ?” The woman clearly did not. She sneered down at him.

  “Please… for Asgard… free me. Help me return. There… is a darkness.” Thor wondered why the woman was not moving to unbind him. He began to struggle against the netting, ignoring the pain that every movement brought on as he was shocked again and again.

  “You’re not on Asgard anymore, and there’s plenty of darkness here, so get used to it,” Valkyrie said, spitting out the word Asgard.

  Thor finally managed to free one arm. He reached out and nearly grabbed her leg in desperation. Valkyrie swiftly sidestepped him and kicked his hand away.

  “You don’t understand. . . .” Thor tried again weakly.

  “Oh, that’s where you have it wrong. I understand perfectly.” She aimed a small device at him, and a disk shot out of it, embedding itself into Thor’s chest. She took out a fob control, pushed a button, and sent a jolt through Thor.

  The pain that ran through him was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Thor’s whole body stiffened, paralyzed. Still looking up at the woman, he muttered one last plea.

  “For… Asgard . . .” His voice was raspy, as even his vocal cords began to stiffen along with the rest of him.

  With a final swift kick to his head, Valkyrie knocked out Thor. She looked down at him. If she was surprised to see an Asgardian on this dismal planet, it didn’t register on her face. Then again, she was not known for showing emotion. Getting the job done was her specialty.

  She loaded Thor onto her ship and slid behind the controls. Taking out a communicator, she adjusted the dial and spoke into it. “Scrapper 142 reporting in. I have new cargo. Tell him to expect me soon. He’ll want this one.” She clicked off the communicator and looked back at the unconscious Thor.

  “Welcome to Sakaar, son of Odin.” With that, she shifted the controls and her ship rose from the ground, banked away from the scavengers below, and headed to the city in the distance.

  Back on Asgard, the Bifrost had barely finished breaking apart when the dark tendrils began to spill out of the observatory. They traveled to an overlook of the majestic land and swirled to form a single mass, taking on a humanoid figure. As Asgardians watched, the Einherjar marched out in force to face this mysterious threat. Within moments, the blackness had cleared away, and in its place stood a woman.

  It was clear this was no ordinary woman. Dressed in a leathery armor of black and green, with long black hair and an icy-cold look in her heavily shadowed eyes, the woman surveyed the realm before her. A hush fell over all Asgard as it held its collective breath, waiting for her to speak.

  When her voice sounded at last, it rang out clear and strong, full of authority in a tone that brooked no room for dissent. “I have returned, although most of you know me as a nightmare or fable. But I assure you, I am no tale. I am Hela, queen of Hel, ruler of the Underworld. Long ago, I was cast out of Asgard by Odin and his warriors, but my time to return has arrived. You are without a king on the throne. It is not the throne I seek, however. It is the end of Asgard itself. My name was once whispered as a possibility, a foretelling of events that could lead to the fall of your beloved realm.”

  Hela began descending the stairs from her overlook. The Einherjar readied their swords, spears, and shields to protect the citizens of Asgard.

  “I am no whisper. I am no possibility,” Hela announced, her voice growing louder, like an approaching storm. She paused, and every Asgardian felt she was looking directly into their fearful souls.

  “I am an inevitability.”

  With that, she raised her arms, and the entirety of the Einherjar were defeated with one fell swoop of the dark tendrils. The people of Asgard inhaled a collective gasp of panic and began to run frantically every which way, desperate to escape the evil that had descended upon their realm.

  “Flee. Find shelter if you can.” Hela’s voice echoed through the land. “It matters not.” With a tilt of her head, fires sprang up all around.

  “I am the ruler of Death, and I assure this: Asgard is dead.”

  CHAPTER

  With its vibrant colors and eclectic decor, the Grandmaster’s chamber was nearly as unique as its owner.

  Nearly.

  Seated on a plush couch, the Grandmaster, the ruler of all Sakaar, sipped a steaming beverage from a golden goblet.

  “It looks like it’s scalding hot, but it’s actually quite refreshingly cool. That’s the magic. Isn’t it great?” He surveyed the room. His two handmaidens nodded in agreement obediently, while a sulking figure in the corner simply rolled her eyes in boredom. The rest of the room was filled with the highest of Sakaarian society. They were dressed in their culture’s finest formal wear, creating a sea of glittering colors and jewels. They all nodded enthusiastically at the Grandmaster’s proclamation of his drink’s unique form and taste, and began motioning to the servants, ordering these deceptive beverages for themselves. The Grandmaster sipped, smiling at the fact that he was, quite literally, a tastemaker. His delight with his beverage was interrupted, however, by a zapping noise, followed by a stifled cry of pain making its way toward his chamber.

  “This… ungg… really isn’t necessary, is it?” came a voice from the hallway as Valkyrie entered the chamber. Behind her, Thor struggled to follow as he was repeatedly shocked by the disk Valkyrie had attached to his chest.

  The Grandmaster clapped twice and the room fell silent, all eyes on the brawny newcomer now felled to his knees at the center of the opulent chamber. The Grandmaster looked closely at Thor. “A bit ragged, don’t you think? But even diamonds start as coal, I guess.” Turning his attention to Valkyrie, he asked, “What have you brought me?”

  “A contender.” Her curt reply was followed by her casual push of a button on her control, jolting Thor again, causing him to flex in response.

  “Yes, yes. Real potential, I see. A little makeover and the crowd will eat him up. Very nice, Scrapper 142. Wouldn’t you agree, Topaz?”

  The sulking figure in the corner gave only an icy stare in response. Valkyrie smiled slightly at her rival. “Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll find your own contender. That is, if you ever get up and actually search for one,” she muttered under her breath, but loudly enough for Topaz—and the rest of the room—to hear.

  The Grandmaster waved his hands benevolently, setting his beloved drink down delicately on its gilded saucer. “Ladies, please. This is a place of enjoyment and relaxation. No need for feuds. We leave that to the arena.”

  At the sound of the word, Thor looked at the Grandmaster. “What arena?”

  “What arena?” The Grandmaster chuckled. “Oh, Scrapper 142, this really is quite fresh meat.”

  “Which I expect to be paid for,” she replied smartly, her hand outstretched.

  “Yes, yes. Your bounty.” The Grandmaster snapped his fingers, and a servant brought forth a bag of coins.

  Valkyrie stared at the bag, then at the Grandmaster. “Double for this one. Trust me. He’s worth it.”

  The Grandmaster sighed and snapped again, and another servant brought a second bag. “What makes you so sure? I’m practically dying to know.”

  “Ask him yourself.” Then Valkyrie turned and left the chamber, but not before giving Topaz a sly grin. They clearly had an unspoken contest between them, and whatever prize contender Valkyrie had just dropped on the Grandmaster’s doorstep made her believe she’d just assumed the advantage.

  “You paid her twice? I’ve brought you far better specimens. This one looks homeless, dragged from a gutter,” Topaz protested. The Grandmaster held up his hand to calm her.

  “And I’m sure you will again, my dear. You know you’re still my favorite. But if Scrapper 142 says there’s something special about this one—”

  “I can hear you. And I assure you, I’m far from a gutter-dweller.” Thor rose to his full height. He walked toward the Grandmaster but was suddenly zapped again and yelped in pain. The Grandmaster held up a fob control identical to Valkyrie’s.

  “Just a precaution. I know the Obedience Disks can be a nuisance,” he said. “But necessary in most cases. Although I haven’t ever been very fond of the name. It was a working title while we were in the testing phase, and no one seemed to put ‘Find better name’ on the agenda, so it stuck.”

  Thor struggled through the agony and stood up once again, gritting his teeth in determination, refusing to show signs of pain on his face.

  “Well, well. You are a contender, aren’t you? Tell me, what’s your story? Who are you, where do you come from?” The Grandmaster sat back, genuine interest clearly in his eyes.

  “I am Thor Odinson, from Asgard. The god of thunder.” Thor squared his shoulders proudly.

  “ ‘God of thunder’? That sounds promising.” The Grandmaster looked around the room, and his guests all nodded in agreement. “Really, I have to see this. Show me the thunder, Thor of Asgard.”

  Thor gave a defiant look, raised his hand high, and closed his eyes. Sparks of electricity began to collect around his hand, but quickly sputtered out and dissipated.

  Thor looked at his hand, confused. “It… it works better with my hammer.”

  “How many times have we heard that, right?” the Grandmaster asked the room, chuckling. “Still, I think with a little snip here and a polish there, I can sell you to the audience.”

  “What is this audience you speak of?” Thor demanded.

  “Oh, just a little thing I like to call the Contest of Champions, the greatest event in the galaxy. And I am the Grandmaster, the highly adored host of the arena and all things on Sakaar. Strange you’ve never heard of the Contest, though.” The Grandmaster seemed slightly baffled and mildly offended.

  “I’ve been… busy,” Thor replied, trying not to insult the Grandmaster and risk getting shocked again.

  “Well, in any case, two contenders enter the arena; only one exits: the Champion. If you win, you may ask for any wish you desire.” The Grandmaster had a gleam in his eyes. “Right now we’re at our highest attendance ever, thanks to our current Champion. He’s unbeatable. Truly magnificent. You have to meet him.” The Grandmaster laughed. “What am I saying—of course you’ll meet him, just before he probably squashes you. Then again, I don’t know how easy Asgardians are to squash. Let me ask… ah, there he is.”

  The Grandmaster pointed a finger, and the crowd of Sakaarian elites parted to reveal… Loki? The Trickster gave a smug look at his brother as he approached.

  “Brother? How—?” Thor was thoroughly perplexed at the sight of Loki.

  “The same as you, I would gather. Although I do seem to appear to have found myself a ‘contender’ as well. One more in keeping with my own set of skills.”

  “Brother?” the Grandmaster crowed. “Why, how wonderful! Here I am, reuniting families without even realizing it.” His cronies all nodded appreciatively at the Grandmaster’s unintended kindness.

  “You must free me,” Thor said urgently to Loki in a low voice. “Convince this Grandmaster to let me go, then come back with me to Asgard. There is a terrible darkness spreading. . . .” But Thor’s pleas fell on deaf ears.

  “Back to Asgard? Where no one really ever appreciated me for who I really am? I’d rather not, thank you. Especially if there’s some ‘darkness’ overtaking the land.” Loki sat on a couch near Thor. “I believe I’ve finally found my place.”

  “Your place is with your people,” Thor snapped.

  Loki grinned, waving an arm across the room. “Exactly. Now, if you want to go back to Asgard, I suggest you work your way home. Go after that wish, and you just might earn it.”

  The Grandmaster’s ears perked up. “Earning the wish? Well, you’ll have to enter the arena as soon as possible, won’t you?”

  “I’m ready,” Thor declared.

  The Grandmaster looked him up and down. “Mmmm, not yet. Topaz, will you kindly escort our contender to his new home?”

  With a look of disdain, Topaz took out an Obedience Disk controller, turned Thor around, and escorted him out of the Grandmaster’s chamber, zapping Thor at various intervals.

  Thor groaned as his body once again convulsed in the waves of electric shocks. He suddenly had a feeling that the journey home was going to be far more difficult than he had imagined.

  Several moments later, Thor was unceremoniously thrown by an unsmiling Topaz into a dark room in a cavern that ran beneath the surface of Sakaar. The entrance was then sealed by electric bars. Thor looked around, seeing more cells like his lining the tunnels.

  “Don’t even think of trying to escape,” came a voice from the back of his cell. Thor jumped slightly, not realizing he was sharing his jail cell with another prisoner. He peered in the back corner, and a humanoid pile of rocks nearly seven feet tall stood and walked toward him.

  “You’re Kronan, are you not?” Thor had encountered members of his cellmate’s race before.

  “Korg. And you’re Asgardian. I’ve heard of you.” Korg seemed a quiet soul for such a large presence.

  “Are you here to face this ‘Champion’ as well?” Thor asked.

  Korg shook his head. “I was captured during a revolt against the bounty hunters the Grandmaster sends out for the Contest. I had seen many of my kind taken, never to return. When I arrived, I found out why.”

  “You don’t want this wish he’s offering? You could end the suffering of your kind.”

  Korg again shook his large head. “I like to live. And as long as I stay here, no other Kronan lives will be taken. So I stick to the undercard, the warm-up before the main event.” Korg settled himself back in his corner. “If you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”

  Thor steeled his eyes. “I aim to defeat the Champion and earn my way home.”

  “The only way to do that is to kill him, and that thing is unstoppable. I don’t think it can be killed.”

  Thor turned to face Korg, ready for whatever the Grandmaster could throw at him. “Unkillable?” Thor scoffed. “He clearly has yet to meet me.”

  CHAPTER

  Thor spent the entire night awake, unable to think of anything besides facing the Grandmaster’s Champion. Around midday, he and a small band of prisoners were escorted into a large staging area adjacent to the arena. Weapons and armor of all shapes and sizes lined the walls for the would-be fighters to arm themselves with in the coming battles.

  As Thor took in his surroundings, he caught sight of a familiar figure. “Valkyrie!” he cried out. Valkyrie turned toward him, another newly acquired prisoner in tow. “Speak with the Grandmaster. Free me and return to save our homeland. For Asgard!”

  Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “You’re on Sakaar, not Asgard. Save your pleas for the arena. Not that it’ll help much.” She turned and started walking away. “Asgard shouldn’t hold its breath waiting for your return. You’ll be dead soon,” she said bluntly, calling over her shoulder.

  Thor rolled his eyes at her departure. Not exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type, then.

  As she disappeared around a corner, a loud cheer could be heard coming from the direction of the arena. A moment later Korg came lumbering down the ramp, shield dented, but he was otherwise unharmed.

  “You won, I see,” Thor said, impressed.

  “It’s why I stay, like I said,” Korg replied. He paused in front of Thor for a moment, and his eyes grew soft. “I’m sorry for what’s about to come. If it means anything, I think you deserve better. Good luck, friend.”

  Before Thor could reply, a squat alien with an apron made his way to Thor. He looked the Asgardian over a few times, gave a satisfied grunt, and pulled out a razor. Thor raised a fist in opposition, but two guards held him back.

  The squat alien motioned to a chair in the corner. “Let’s get you ready to fight now.”

  Without much choice in the matter, Thor sat but looked on defiantly. “I’m always ready to fight.”

  The immense octagonal arena was filled to capacity for the day’s fight. Hundreds of thousands of spectators, creatures and races that spanned the galaxy, crowded next to one another, their excitement palpable. Above them, ships of all shapes hovered to view the events below. There was never a dull moment in the Grandmaster’s Contests, but today the crowd both above and below felt something especially glorious was about to happen. Their beloved Champion was set to fight, and from what everyone heard, this would be a matchup for the ages.

 

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