For most beings in the universe, traveling through more than fifty consecutive wormholes is a grueling experience.
"Have you checked how many jumps we're making?" Thor asked, his expression strained.
"Uh… I think it's over 1,500," Nebula replied.
Thor's eyes widened. "Ahhh—this is insane!"
Soon, Thor's head began to spin, and his stomach churned from the endless jumping.
Nebula, in even worse shape, was already barely conscious, completely overwhelmed by the relentless jumps. Suddenly, the spacecraft trembled, and warning lights blinked as it strained against the continuous jumps. Thor sighed, clutching Nebula close as he reached for the emergency eject button.
They were ejected onto Sakaar, a chaotic planet known for its brutal, lawless culture. It served as a dumping ground for refuse and criminals alike, resulting in a wasteland filled with scavengers and violence. Sakaar was home to the famed gladiatorial games hosted by the Grandmaster, where winners were promised all the fame, wealth, and luxury they could desire. Losers, however, were left in the dust—forgotten, irrelevant.
Because of the high death rate, few willingly entered the arena. Most gladiators were captured by scavengers and forced to fight.
Thor crawled out from a pile of garbage, Nebula still unconscious in his arms, only to be immediately surrounded by a gang of bizarre-looking scavengers. One of them pointed a strange gun at him, its barrel emitting a net with a powerful paralyzing charge.
Can't beat Thanos but these lowlifes think they can handle me? Thor's patience was running thin. With a battle cry, he surged forward, taking down the scavengers in a flurry of punches, leaving them groveling on the ground.
When Nebula finally woke, Thor looked down at her with a sheepish expression. "Did you happen to bring any money? We need to buy passage off this rock."
Nebula, still dazed, shook her head. "Even if we had cosmic credits, prices on Sakaar are sky-high. This place is a nightmare."
Thor sighed. Here, they'd need to find a way to make money quickly. "Well," he shrugged, "there's always the fighting arena."
"Our main objective is to gather enough money to buy a ship and get out of here," Thor explained over drinks in a run-down bar. "I'll sign up for the gladiator tournament as a free agent and challenge their current champion, the guy with the 66-win streak. There's a bounty on him."
Nebula raised an eyebrow. "And what am I supposed to do?"
"You'll bet all the money we've got on me to win," he said with a grin.
"And then?"
"Then we take the winnings, bet it all again on my next match, and keep doubling up."
Nebula sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. But then she considered how Thor had stood toe-to-toe with Thanos and reasoned that he had the strength to back up his confidence. In her mind, anyone who could last that long against Thanos was practically equal to him in power.
When Thor finally approached the registration booth for the gladiator matches, he drew the attention of none other than the Grandmaster himself. Clad in a lavish golden robe, the Grandmaster looked at him with mild disbelief.
"So, you want to enter the tournament and… directly challenge the reigning champion?"
Few dared to challenge the Champion of Sakaar. No one in their right mind willingly sought out the so-called "Streak Boss" unless they had no other option—either outlaws or captured fighters wearing explosive collars. Thor's boldness was unusual.
The Grandmaster observed Thor closely. From the power he'd demonstrated just getting into the building—reducing three guards to charred husks and leaving a fourth as a smoldering puddle—the Grandmaster suspected Thor just might be capable of putting on an entertaining show.