The muscle organizing the fighters behind the scenes of the arena shoved Thor into a holding area. Once he collected himself, the god stalked back in their direction only for the gate to be slammed in his face. His fist pounded against the barrier, but it did not give way. Not only did the barber remove his long locks of hair, but they forced him to dress in different gladiator armor and painted three red streaks down the side of his face.
A bright spot light passed by. His head turned to see some small slits on the far side of the room. Large enough for him to look through and get a clear view of the arena. Maybe if he were lucky the Asgardian could stick an arm through. But he wasn't trying to escape into the ring.
The best booth that overlooked the arena was dubbed the Grandmaster's private box. Only those with a formal invitation were allowed inside. Dressed in their finest clothes and jewelry, while they enjoyed various conversations and the finest foods and drinks offered. And tonight, Loki had finally become one of those guests. Since his arrival, the God of Mischief played all his cards right to get into the Grandmaster's good graces. He was lucky to have a gift with words. Knew the right things to say. To not end up in Thor's situation. Besides, this lifestyle was almost as lavish as that of Asgard.
And as an added bonus, the rules on Sakaar were not as strict like on Asgard. Which made him free to do what he liked, so long as it was in the leader of these misfits' best interests. A servant came by holding a tray filled by colorful drinks. He scooped one off to indulge in. This was the life.
Scrapper 142's ship hovered above the stadium. Alongside many others that preferred the ariel view instead of being in closer quarters in the stands. The hanger lay open, for her to sit down and the legs to hang over the edge. The alcohol she bought sat beside her. One was popped open to chug nearly half in a few gulps.
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, this is the last fight before the one you've all been waiting for," the Grandmaster's voice echoed.
The man stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows of the box. Though a projected hologram of his form stood in the center of the arena, floating a few feet off the ground.
"Not that this contender ever lets you down."
The excited cheers that followed were a clear indication that whoever was about to enter the ring would prove to be a good one.
"She knows how to put on a show. The true opening act. You all know and love her. The fierce, the lovely, the brilliant: Arcane!"
One of the larger doors along the wall began to open and the crowd went wild. A figure emerged from the shadows. A woman from her stature. She wore a black leather low cut top, covered by a worn golden breast plate. Straps crossed over the upper chest and collarbone to hold shoulder plates that overlapped down to the elbows to protect the exposed pale skin, while a pair of lower arm guards locked around the wrists. They wore a black leather skirt, the plates cut into strips that hung just above the knees, where the same-colored trousers were briefly visible before they disappeared under worn golden shin guards. They ran down to the base of Midgardian looking combat boots, instead of the traditional gladiator sandals.
The woman's helmet didn't completely cover the head. A front plate covered the forehead and ran just over the top of the head, the leather straps securing the armor. Great for headbutting an opponent. Especially with the two sharp points on either side of the temples to further cause damage. A strip of the material ran down between the brows to the tip of the nose. And two panels covered the sides of the face and cheeks, before coming to points at the end. This left only the eyes and mouth uncovered. Which is how Thor was able to tell who this fighter was. Alongside the white blonde hair intricately braided back.
"Anya?" the Asgardian questioned.
Though her name became lost over the noise. An arm raised, lifting one of the duel spiked batons in the process, to greet the audience. She slowly turned to not neglect a section of loyal fans.
"Anya!" Thor tried to shout louder.
Black and dark red, that took on the appearance of blood, was painted across the face in a diagonal. Even covered some parts of the armor. And her eyes we void of any resemblance of friendly emotion. They were serious. Focused. Deadly. She was ready for a fight. Which terrified him. How long had she been here? On Sakaar. Obviously too long from the fans she amassed in her corner. And from the way her visible muscles appeared more defined than when they were separated.
"And her competitor tonight," the Grandmaster spoke up, "a warrior who has been rising in the ranks, Hiruk!"
Another door opened at the far end of the arena as a Baluurian lumbered out. From the planet Baluur. A yeti like creature that stood two heads taller that his opponent and wore dark blue gladiator armor that had seen better days. And he sported old battle scars to match. The Baluurian were known for their strength and endurance. The creature's muscles were massive under white fur, black eyes honed in on his opponent. A cruel smirk stretched across his lips more than confident that he'd end this woman's life and be the victor.
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Chapter Inspiration: Welcome to the Party by Diplo
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Thor had all the confidence in Anya that she'd be able to handle anything that came her way. But she'd never fought against a Baluurian before. She flipped the batons in hand and fell back into a defensive stance.
"Let's get started now, shall we?" the Grandmaster questioned. "Begin!"
Both opponents rushed towards one another, no longer concerned by the cheering crowd. Now it was a fight for fame, glory, and the title as a great gladiator in the Grandmaster's arena. That they weren't disposal and knew how to fight. To the death if necessary.
Hiruk's large fists raised high into the air to come down on the young woman. Hard enough to crush her. But Anya detoured around the creature's side to come around to his back in a rather graceful manner. So when his fists came down and indented against the ground a baton cracked against the vulnerable part of the armor at the back of the knee. The Baluurian roared. In a matter of seconds, the mortal managed to draw blood and that enraged him. It excited the audience further. He whirled around, nostrils flaring. But Anya cartwheeled backwards out of arms reach and split herself into seven mirages. Thor noticed the way their eyes glowed red. Then they attacked.
His fists batted back the first few, and a rough kick to the chest floored another. Thor winced, even if it wasn't Anya. Though if it had been real the attack would've broken nearly all the rib bones. The batons cracked against the armor. In an attempt to hit another weak spot. Hiruk barreled over the mirages. One became caught in his grasp and crushed. Another battered when he pulled free a large mallet attached to the hip.
A smack of the back of a hand threw a young woman through the air, tumbling across the ground. She managed to regain her balance to roll upright and slide to a halt. The mirages surrounding the Baluurian vanished. He nearly stumbled forward from the weight of his next attack when it didn't make contact. Black eyes turned on the real version of his opponent that landed feet away. The hit caused the lip to bust open. Blood trickled down to the chin, which Anya wiped away with the back of a hand, further staining the skin in the process. A grin stretched across her face. Refusing to give away an inkling of fear.
The Aether began to come to the surface in the form of dark matter. It wrapped around the shoulders and down the arms to coat the batons and spikes. Hiruk growled and went to advance. However, he didn't get far when the Aether extended in a whip-like fashion. It cracked through the air, managing to keep the Baluurian at a distance. Even forced him to take a few steps backwards. And the Aether drew blood again when it lashed against the skin exposed near the shoulder joint. The dark matter gained the leverage it needed. Wrapping tightly around Hiruk's neck, his hands reached up in a desperate attempt to remove the material. He dropped the mallet in the process.
A quick jerk on Anya's part dropped the Baluurian face first into the dirt. Multiple mirages piled on top of the beast's body to hold him down. The Aether unwrapped itself and the young woman stalked forward. Only Hiruk managed to get to his feet. The action threw off most of the duplicates, large hands ripping off the others in his rampage.
The Aether reformed around the host's arms. Taking on the shape of sharp points. Anya stabbed at the Baluurian, who blocked the attacks using the arm guards and avoiding the attacks. Hiruk managed to collect up the mallet in the process, smashing the face against the Aether to defend himself. But none of the hits deterred the mortal. In fact, she never felt it since the dark matter absorbed the impact to avoid injury.
Thor's heart leapt into his throat when the Baluurian brought the mallet high overhead to bring it down on top of Anya, heavily. Though thankfully, the Aether reared up into a half dome to protect the host. Then it exploded out, throwing Hiruk through the air into the far wall. It dented from the force. He wobbly fell to a knee, head shaking. His black eyes landed on the opponent. Now he was livid. Especially from the fact that the crowd primarily cheered for Arcane.
He roared. A sound that usually sparked the fear in his enemies. Yet she held her ground and didn't back down. His nostrils flared. The Baluurian charged, weapon swinging. She did nothing to move out of the way. Nothing to shield herself. And when the mallet came down it passed through the young woman's body. Her form shimmered before disappearing.
He growled, eyes searching the arena, but it was empty. Thor grinned widely. The crowd was on the edge of their seat. Even the Grandmaster. Loki's brow rose in a rather impressed manner. The god had his doubts that she'd be able to hold her own against a Baluurian.
Behind Hiruk, something shifted. From thin air Anya reemerged in a sprint towards the creature's back. The shift in the crowd's demeanor alerted the Baluurian to the fact that he wasn't alone in this arena anyone. Everyone watched dark matter form in front of the young woman in a makeshift staircase that allowed her to gain height on the tall opponent. He whirled around the moment she reached the top. Watched the Aether shift into the form of an oversized mallet like the one he carried. With a battle cry, Anya brought down the weapon and it cracked against a cheek. Forcing the helmet from his head.
She refused to let up. Knocking the creature back and forth. Hiruk stumbled in an attempt to remain standing. The sheer size of the weapon shouldn't have been possible for Anya to lift. Not without assistance. And the momentum of the attacks should have thrown her off balance in the process. Yet the young woman used the movements to make the hit more consistent and powerful. To not give the Baluurian more ground.
Thor laughed, palms smacking against the wall in excitement. He felt just as fired up as the crowd. Nothing but pride swelling in his chest. Anya was fighting against a Baluurian. Alone. And had the upper hand. Blood flew from Hiruk's mouth when an undercut threw him backwards to the ground. Tendrils of the Aether extended from the host. Long enough to reach the threat's position and hover over their form for a brief period. It slammed down, and somehow Hiruk manage to roll out of the way. He continued to avoid the other tendrils that followed. The creature found his mallet lost in the fight and launched it in the direction of the human. It halted the attack of the Aether, forcing it to instead protect the host by moving her out of the way just in time. Anya felt the gust of air it created when the weapon passed. The dark matter wasn't pleased in the slightest.
Hiruk charged. The young woman didn't even need to will the Aether to match the flying fists. Half shields formed and shifted to protect all angles. Even some possible blindsides. Her movements shifted backwards. To not be overwhelmed by this opponent. His anger blinded him. In a way that made Hiruk vulnerable.
Finally, a hit broke through. But when the Aether cleared, the space stood vacant. A hard hit knocked the Baluurian in the pressure points at the back of the knee. His back collided with the dirt. And the last thing he saw was the flat surface of an Aether made mallet come down on his face. [song ends]
The crowd roared with applause. Hiruk didn't get back up. Knocked out cold. The Aether receded to reveal the Baluurian's bruised and bloodied face. Smaller doors around the edge of the arena opened for personnel to move in and remove Hiruk from the arena. Even escort Anya back behind the walls. She didn't bask in the victory like so many would. Didn't even address the crowd. The Grandmaster praised her for a job well done,
"Arcane, ladies and gentlemen!" the man said. "My, my what a splendid show!"
Thor watched her venture closer. Now he had a better chance to get her attention.
"Anya!"
Her head whipped around, eyes widening when she caught sight of the god through the gaps in the wall.
"Thor!" the young woman questioned. She sped walked towards the god, ignoring the orders from the men that flanked her. "What are you–?"
Their hands gripped at one another. As if to try and convince themselves that they were real. And here in the present moment. The mortal took in his changed appearance.
"Please tell me you're not the main event," she pleaded.
"Of course," he said. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders at seeing her. "I'm so glad I found you. How did you get here? Why are you here?"
"Why are you fighting against the champion?"
"To win my freedom from the Grandmaster to find you and return to Asgard."
"Thor, listen, you don't understand–"
Hands roughly grabbed her shoulders to drag Anya away. She briefly fought them off to hold her place at the slats. But they began to drag her away.
"The champion, it's–!" she tried to get out. She fought against the Grandmaster's muscles in a rather human manner without success.
"Anya!" Thor shouted.
It worried him that the Aether didn't fight back to prevent her from being manhandled in such a way. Which probably meant that if it tried to intervene it'd bring more harm to her.
"Just give me–!"
"Unhand her!" His palms slammed against the wall, yet nothing gave way. "Anya! Anya!"
He watched her disappear through a doorway. The god vowed to win this match up against the champion. To free himself and Anya for good.
The men shoved her forward. When the young woman whirled around on them, they gave her a look. To give them a reason to go to Grandmaster and say one of his prize champions were acting out of line. Which is why the silent threat made her stay rooted in place and glare at them. The door to the holding area closed. Some of the other fighters came forward to congratulate her on a job well done. Though that was mostly in an attempt to keep on the young woman's good side outside of the arena. No one trusted the thing that resided inside her. And ever since the young woman's arrival on Sakaar, the Midgardian mortal was a mystery. A danger to all of them if paired up against her. They'd witnessed Arcane enough times that she'd proven herself to be a formidable foe.
"You know New Doug?" Korg questioned.
Her head turned to look at the Kronan warrior in a questioning manner. "New Doug?" she asked.
"Yeah! Same optimism as Old Doug. It's good to have another Doug around, don't you agree?"
The young woman didn't give him an answer and went to find a good view to watch Thor's match.