Loki and I trekked up a tall staircase that ended in a long hallway with a plethora of closed doors on each side. He stopped dead in his tracks at the very last one on the left hand side, briefly hovering a fingerprint scanner with his index finger. The door then slowly opened, allowing us to step inside the brightly lit bedroom.

I rubbed my wrists together, noticing how the cuffs had left dark red marks along my skin. The rawness stung, which further fueled my anger.

I lashed out at Loki before I allowed myself to think it through, smacking him hard across the face in a single motion. He gasped in shock when my palm collided with his pale cheek, its colour instantly shifting to a light shade of pink. He didn't look in pain, I doubt a slap could do much damage to a God. Still I hoped to deliver a message he might actually understand. 

"How dare you?" He sneered, eyes wide as he cupped his cheek. 

"Me?" I spat, rubbing my stinging palm against my stomach, "Are you serious? You've been here this whole time, telling knock-knock jokes and drinking cocktails while we could have died! Fine, you don't give a shit about me, fair enough. I don't expect you to, given the fact that we only just met, but Thor is your brother and you left him for dead! You should be ashamed of yourself."

Loki placed a hand on his hip.

"What was I supposed to do, then? Risk my own life to look for precious little Thor, who could have been anywhere in the entire universe? You said it yourself, you two only just got here. I have been here for weeks, trapped in this godawful place pretending to be one of these idiots. How was I ever supposed to find my brother?" Loki paused, and then whispered under his breath, "I can't believe a petty human just laid her hand on me." 

He disappeared into the bathroom with a scowl on his face and emerged moments later with a fluffy red towel, which he roughly tossed in my direction. I barely managed to catch it before it hit me in the face, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from cursing him out and instead thanked him in a small whisper.

He scoffed. I ignored him. 

"So, what exactly is going to happen now?" I asked him after the turmoil between us settled into a state of discomfort and awkward tension. 

My stomach churned at the thought of leaving Thor in the hands of the Grand Master. That crazy son of a bitch wouldn't hesitate to kill him, and I could not let that happen. Not in a million years. Thor was my best bet of getting the fuck back home, and I did not plan on being stuck in this shithole for all of eternity. 

"Thor is going to fight the Grand Master's champion. He's going to lose and will probably die, while we spend the rest of eternity on this forsaken planet. You might become one of the Grand Master's sex slaves, I don't know." Loki stated simply.

Maybe none of this really mattered to him. Perhaps he could entertain the idea of living in a city surrounded by garbage for all of eternity. His words did not offer me any sense of security, he did not appear at all eager to leave. The thought of having to spend the rest of my life on Sakaar caused a shiver of sheer panic to rush along my skin. My thoughts momentarily went to Stephen, and I wondered if he knew what would happen to us when he shoved me into the portal. 

"Sex slave?" I spat, "I don't think so. We have to do something to help your brother, anything. You're the god of Mischief, I'm sure you can think of something to get us out of here."

I rolled the fabric of the towel between my fingers, allowing the soft material to soothe the bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't feel a single emotion from the man across the room. This unnerved me. Did he really not care at all?

Loki raised a brow but didn't reply. He took a seat at the edge of the king-sized bed, which creaked under his weight. I quickly came to learn at that moment that Loki was a man of solitude, whose silence did not mean sorrow or regret but simply quiet. His shoulders slumped slightly, and his hair fell in his face, obscuring the emerald orbs that appeared to take in everything at once and nothing at all. Habitual silence appeared to be a comfortable state of being for him, and his body became so still on the edge of the bed that I almost feared he'd become a statue. He was clearly lost deep in thought. 

"Who is his champion, anyway?" I asked finally in a small voice, afraid to disturb his line of thinking but doing so anyway, "has anyone mentioned him to you? In passing perhaps?"

"I haven't seen him, but I've heard plenty of stories. Apparently, the guy hasn't lost a single fight. The Grand Master is expecting us to watch the showdown in his booth with him tonight, so clean yourself up. You smell like vomit and garbage. Look like it, too."

I shot him an angry glare but had to agree with him on that one. He was right, I smelled terrible and even though I had yet to see my reflection in a mirror, I already knew the sight wouldn't appease me. Besides, a warm shower sounded nice right about now.

He left me then, allowing me to get ready in solitude. A small moment of peace before the big fight, a minute to reflect on the last 24 hours of my life. I showered to calm myself, but the pinch in my stomach did not wash down the drain along with the dirt and grime from my skin as I had hoped it would. No, I still felt trapped in a nightmare that I could not wake up from, even after the glorious scent of lemon butterscotch shower gel penetrated my nostrils and tickled my senses.

This time, I felt Loki's presence from inside the bathroom through the walls that separated us; dread. If bad things continued to happen, I didn't know how much longer I would last before having another episode, and without Stephen around to break me out of it, my anxiety only grew.

As I stood in front of the large, foggy mirror drying my wet hair, I couldn't help but notice how tired I looked. Dark blue circles surrounded my green eyes and my skin looked paler than usual. Loki was right, I looked like hell. My hair had tangled up completely and it took me over twenty minutes to brush out the knots. I moisturized my face with the products on the counter and used leave-in conditioner in my hair before placing it in a simple French braid to keep it out of my face. 

I was clean, but Sakaar had a way of making me feel dirty even without the grime.

My clothes, black skinny jeans, and a graphic t-shirt were torn in various places, not to mention the patches of green and various other smudges of dirt that accompanied them. I wrapped myself up in the towel Loki had given me and stepped into the room, awkwardly aware of God's eyes on me. I hadn't even noticed his return, and chose to be momentarily grateful for his invasion of privacy. 

"You're the god of mischief, right?" I asked him.

He rolled his eyes and looked at me as if I'd asked him something offensive, but nodded anyway.

"Could you work some magic and get me some new clothes? Mine are  completely ruined and not at all suitable for a meeting with this Grand Master dude. You know, so he doesn't grow suspicious or whatever." I gripped the towel harder, afraid it would fall down and expose me to him.

"I'm not your servant," Loki said haughtily, turning over on the bed so his back was facing me. 

I sighed.

"Forget it. I was stupid enough to think you had half a heart inside that chest cavity of yours."

I stood there for a while, simply watching his body rise and fall slowly with each breath. Anger and sadness coursed through him, I could feel it. My energy began to spike, nearly forcing me to leave the room before I would get sucked into the negative vortex that was Loki.

I didn't dare say anything after that. Instead, I went back into the bathroom to sit on the edge of the toilet, contemplating what I would do next. My thoughts wandered to Thor, worry filling me when I tried to imagine what he could possibly be going through. I wished for a moment I was with him instead of with Loki, because even though Thor hardly knew me, I had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate to help me. He'd at least talk to me. He would try to make me feel comfortable. 

I silently pulled my dirty clothes back on, cringing at the feeling they gave me, before stepping outside again. Loki was gone, but a pile of fresh garments had been placed on the bed instead. I found it in me to smile slightly, even though I didn't understand him at one bit.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

I found my way down to the armory, where the champions were allowed to pick out their weapons and to prepare themselves for battle. Scrappers like the ones that had captured Thor and I stood by the bar, sipping on various types of colorful alcoholic beverages out of oddly shaped bottles. A tall wired fence separated them from the champions, leading them into a place with far fewer lights and much less space to move around in.

I immediately spotted Thor. He was by far the tallest and broadest out of the whole bunch, apart from a creature with rock-like skin who stood with his back turned to me. I immediately sped towards him, hooking my fingers between the mesh, and got up on my toes. 

"Thor!" I hissed, waving my right hand to catch his attention without being too loud.

"Mary? What are you doing here? If anyone sees you..." He walked towards me, in his hands a wooden shield and a jackhammer, a surprised look on his darkened face.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck before the fight," I said quickly, "Loki and I will be cheering you on. Well, I don't know about him, but I'll definitely be cheering you on."  

Thor tore a hole in the fence with his bare hands and stuck both of them through the opening. He grasped my face with rough, calloused palms and held it gently. 

"I'll get us out of here," He said sternly and with such ease that I almost believed it to be true, "We'll be in Asgard before you know it." 

He let go of me with a soft smile and leaned casually against the fence. My eyes searched his face for lies beyond his words but found none. He was truly convinced we'd leave this place together and yet I couldn't help but distrust his judgment. If what Loki told me was true, Thor's chance of surviving the duel was nearly non-existent. Beyond that, none of us had a clue of how to get away from this place. Loki had been here for weeks and he hadn't even tried to escape. Even if Thor won the duel, there was no guarantee that the Grandmaster would actually release us. Those little beady eyes told me all I needed to know; that guy couldn't be trusted. 

"Preferably alive," I smirked despite the tightening in my chest.

"That is the plan," Thor agreed fiercely.

"Hey baby," I suddenly heard behind me, "Come have a drink with us."

Two men dressed in shoddy, rusty armor sat around a large wooden table, tankards in hand, cigarettes dangling from their mouths. A cloud of purple smoke surrounded them, the scent of clove and something chemical wafting through the air and making me feel sick to my stomach. One of the guys was bald, while the other had short, black hair. They appeared to be human, but I learned very quickly one could never be too sure.

"Leave her alone," Thor called out, pushing himself closer to the fence.

"What are you gonna do about it?" One of the men taunted.

"I'll kick your ass," Thor replied.

I simply stood there, shaking like a leaf while I watched both of them get up out of their seats. I could tell they tried to act tough in front of me, but as soon as they caught a good look at Thor, their entire demeanor changed and they retreated their steps. 

"She yours?" The bald one asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, she is."

I spun my head around and glared at Thor, but he ignored me. I wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing, tell him to shut up, but the God of Thunder had a habit of disobeying orders. The men didn't seem to have heard me, because they scurried off like rats in a sewer, nearly tripping over their own feet in the process.

This really had to be the weirdest planet in the entire universe. 

"Go, find my brother," Thor ordered, "You have to cheer me on."

I nodded, and with one final look of encouragement, I left him. Desperately, I tried to banish the knowledge that my entire future depended on this very fight, but the journey towards the Grandmaster's skybox was longer than I anticipated, so long that I bit most of my nails off by the time I got there. 

The arena in which the fight would take place was absolutely huge. Thousand of people filled up the seats, wearing festive clothing and waving flags as if they were at a football game. I quickly made my way towards the Grandmaster's booth and was let in without much trouble. Loki was already there, sitting by himself in a bright red love seat. The Grand Master himself sat on a lounge chair made from piss-yellow fabric, looking excited as ever when he clapped his little hands together to the beat of the people's screams.

"My, my, my," he gushed, "What's the occasion? Looking for a new boyfriend? You know, since your current one is going to die and all."

I looked down at myself, seeing the mesh bodysuit and black trousers I'd been given, and immediately began to feel self-conscious of my appearance. I didn't ask Loki to stick those stupid gems on there, he probably just did it to fuck with me.

"He's not going to die," I said sharply, "And he certainly is not my boyfriend. I barely know the guy."

"Whatever." He shushed me away, waving his hand to signify the end of our conversation.

The fight was about to begin. 

Edited May 19th 2023.