Sakaar.
Thor had been here for a full month.
Thinking back to what he had gone through upon landing, it still felt like an absurd nightmare.
That sleazy old man with those mechanical clippers had ignored Thor's desperate protests and forcibly shaved off his proud golden hair.
He had tried to escape, but every time he got only a short distance away, the little disk around his neck released a strange current that made his whole body convulse before knocking him unconscious.
It had made him question his identity as the god of thunder more than once.
In the end, he had been forced to obey Sakaar's ruler, the Grandmaster, and become a gladiator in the arena.
Relying on the formidable physique of an Asgardian god, he had defeated one powerful alien monster after another with his bare hands.
In four weeks, he had claimed the weekly championship four times in a row.
He had become the arena's brightest rising star.
Tonight, the Grandmaster had specifically held a lavish champions' banquet for him at his palace.
Inside the banquet hall.
Neon lights swung wildly about, while deafening electronic music assaulted everyone's eardrums.
Alien dignitaries indulging in excess and strangely dressed scavengers filled the place.
Thor held a cup of unknown blue liquid, sitting bored in a corner.
Suddenly, his gaze froze.
He caught sight of an extremely familiar figure among the crowd.
The man wore a green robe and had his hair slicked neatly back. He held a wineglass as he chatted cheerfully with several alien nobles nearby.
That composed smile, that effortless manner.
Who else could it be but Loki?!
Thor's eyes widened as indignation surged in his chest.
He had been fighting for his life in the arena every day, while this bastard was drinking champagne here?!
Thor