Sakaar was loud.

Not just noisy—it was alive with chaos. Screaming spectators, blaring horns, crackling energy fields, and the constant metallic hum of a planet stitched together from other broken worlds.

Thor staggered forward, shackles sparking faintly around his wrists, blond hair disheveled but pride somehow still intact. His eyes scanned the palace hall in open disbelief.

“Brother,” he muttered, leaning slightly toward Loki, “I don’t think this place is on any of the maps.”

Loki, by contrast, looked far too composed for someone equally restrained. His emerald eyes flicked over the gilded architecture, the floating platforms, the guards with shock-sticks and terrible aim.

“Oh, it’s on a map,” Loki replied smoothly. “Just not one civilized beings frequent.”

They were herded forward—until the lights flared brighter and the music hit.

A flamboyant figure spun into view atop a hovering dais, cape flowing, grin blinding.

“Ladies! Gentlebeings! And whatever delightful in-between we have today!” the Grandmaster sang, arms wide. “Welcome, welcome, welcome!”

Thor blinked. “…Is he serious?”

The Grandmaster leaned closer, peering at Thor like a child inspecting a new toy. “Ohhh, shiny one. I like the muscles. Very gladiator. We’ll talk later.”

His gaze slid to Loki. The grin sharpened. “And you… oh, I smell tricks. Mmm. That usually ends badly here.”

Before Loki could respond, the floor shook.

A massive roar thundered through the hall.

The crowd erupted.

From the far gates, chains clanked open—and something huge stepped into the arena corridor beyond.

Thor’s breath caught.

Green skin. Towering frame. Familiar rage-filled posture.

“Hulk…?” Thor whispered, hope flickering instantly. “YES! Hulk, buddy! I knew you’d be here!”

The Hulk turned, helmet gleaming, eyes locking onto Thor.

His brow furrowed.

“…Thor?”

Thor’s grin split his face. “YES! Friend from work!”

The Grandmaster clapped excitedly. “Ohhh, reunion drama! I love reunion drama!”

A sharp voice cut through the noise.

“Don’t get attached.”

Valkyrie stepped forward from the shadows, armor scuffed, sword resting casually on her shoulder. Her expression was bored, unimpressed, eyes already clocking Thor and Loki as trouble.

“New meat always thinks they’re special,” she added flatly.

And then—

You stepped into the light.