Sean lingered on Sakaar for two days. In the end, Thor chose to return to Asgard, and his entourage included an unexpected addition: a former Valkyrie.
The lean, battle-hardened woman was a scrapper on Sakaar, designated Scrapper 142. She was the very one who had sold Thor to the Grandmaster. Her true identity was Brunnhilde, codenamed 'Valkyrie', the sole survivor of the Valkyrie legion.
Long ago, Odin had dispatched the entire Valkyrie legion to imprison Hela, whose ambition had swollen beyond all restraint. In that brutal campaign, every last Valkyrie had fallen.
Valkyrie should have perished alongside her sisters, but she survived. When she awoke, she lay amidst mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, while the author of that massacre had been cast into Hel by Odin, reduced from Princess of Asgard to prisoner.
Stripped of her honor and her comrades, Valkyrie had felt nothing but hollow despair. She had left Asgard behind, drifting until she washed up on Sakaar, where she became a scrapper, and a drunkard...
...
Sean boarded his colossal command ship, which hovered in orbit above the planet...
Glancing at Thor, he quipped, "I heard you wanted to be a Valkyrie when you were little."
The Imperial-class vessel, flying the flag of the Unified Government, was a planet-conquering monstrosity outfitted with four thousand heavy turbolaser cannons and carrying squadrons of gunships and next-generation starfighters. Thirteen massive hyperdrive engines ensured the gigantic warship could race through the cosmos at full burn.
Its thick and dark armored hull reflected dim light, creating a silent intimidating presence.
It was no wonder the Grandmaster had fawned over Sean so enthusiastically, conceding every demand with almost docile compliance. Who could say whether the man might not fabricate some excuse to seize Sakaar, just as he had taken Knowhere from Taneleer Tivan?
The Grandmaster had no desire to follow in the Collector's footsteps and flee his own home in disgrace. Sakaar was his playground, one painstakingly built over ages...
"Did Loki tell you that as well? Why are we dragging along a silver-tongued snake who'd betray us the moment it suits him?" Thor glared sidelong at Loki, the brother whose head was forever spinning fresh schemes.
Dressed like a princeling, Loki stood obediently behind Sean.
"Because he is also one of Asgard's heirs to the throne, and he knows how to read the room," Sean glanced at Loki, "Isn't that right, Loki?"
Loki, who had once considered himself a god and sought to rule Earth, wore a compliant smile now. Not a trace of his old arrogance remained.
After Thanos and the Black Order had been driven from Asgard in defeat, Loki had been left with no home to return to. The exalted prince had become a cosmic vagabond.
Fortunately, his preternatural gift for deceit and flattery had kept him afloat. Even on Sakaar, his talent for sycophantic charm had wormed him into the Grandmaster's favor. His circumstances stood in stark contrast to his brother's.
"Bill, keep an eye on this scheming prince. If he looks like he's entertaining any clever ideas, twist his handsome head off." Sean instructed, ascending the lift to the command bridge.
Behind him stood a cybernetic being wearing an iron helmet, its head distinctly equine in shape. This was another of the Grandmaster's arena champions, Beta Ray Bill, sent to Sean as part of the compensation package.
Loki glanced at the stone-faced Bill and felt a chill creep through him. He lowered his eyes, careful not to give even a hint of mischief. He had lost count of how many gladiators had their heads smashed by that golden war hammer in the arena.
Thor grunted with contempt and hauled his fellow drunk Valkyrie off to the crew quarters for a drinking bout. How he had managed to persuade the last Valkyrie in existence to face Hela once more was anyone's guess.
"Behave yourself, and there may yet be a throne for you in Asgard." Sean said calmly, looking at Loki who moved as though treading on thin ice.
He had promised Odin he would preserve Asgard and avert Ragnarok. That was the bargain they had struck.
At present, Asgard had three legitimate candidates for the throne; Hela, whose power was beyond dispute... Thor, who was beloved by the people and named successor by Odin himself... And Loki, Odin's adopted son.
By bloodline, Loki ranked last among the three. On paper, he barely seemed to count.
"The reason I chose you is because you have nothing. The people of Asgard despise you, and Odin refused to place the crown in your hands." Sean studied Loki with an appraising eye, "So tell me... What should you do to secure the throne?"
"Offer my unreserved loyalty and, of course, kneel before you, your excellency." Loki answered without hesitation.
As a schemer of considerable experience, this Prince of Asgard understood the art of hitching himself to the right master; from Laufey to Thanos to the Grandmaster.
Loki had never been burdened by an excess of integrity. So long as the patron was powerful enough, he had no qualms about playing the devoted sycophant.
"You're much more intelligent than Thor. At least you understand who truly holds Asgard's fate." Sean dismissed Loki with a wave and stood alone upon the bridge.
The flickering light from the control panel vaguely illuminated his cold, contemplative face, "I need every file on the Boston nuclear power plant explosion ten years ago."
As soon as Sean finished speaking, Skynet had already compiled the complete data, arranged in precise chronological order.
March 21, 2008... A nuclear power plant in Boston had suffered a catastrophic accident. The cause was traced to a malfunctioning particle generator. The explosion killed thirty-two and injured hundreds, splashing across the front page of the New York Times.
"What is this really about?" Sean murmured, his face grim.
Just one week after that accident, he had transmigrated into this world. Considering the sudden explosion, wasn't it all too coincidental?
He recalled every word the Grandmaster had spilled. A suspicion was taking shape in his mind, though he still shrank from confirming it.
The faint white glow in the depths of his consciousness flickered at the edge of his mind, that was his greatest asset since arriving in this world. However, he had deliberately buried its existence long ago out of deep-seated caution.
"He was born before I crossed over, but someone erased all the traces."
Sean thought of the Mad Titan who was chasing the secret of the Celestials' extinction. His eyes settled on a figure in Skynet's dossiers. A man with a lightning-bolt scar branded across his face stared back at him.
"Owen Reece..." He murmured the name slowly.
This man, Owen Reece, had worked at the nuclear plant. He had been at ground zero when the particle generator exploded, struck by the full brunt of the energy blast.
Compared to his dead colleagues, Owen was unimaginably fortunate. He had miraculously and inexplicably survived, with only an ineradicable scar to show for it.
Even the scientists who examined the blast site were baffled; no one had ever absorbed that magnitude of radiation and walked away alive.
Owen Reece had another identity, one that belonged to one of the most powerful beings in the Marvel Universe... Molecule Man, wielder of power over the very building blocks of the universe, capable of creating or annihilating all matter.
"The Beyonders... Molecule Man..." Fragments of a larger picture were beginning to connect, though Sean could not yet string them into a coherent whole, "Thanos... what kind of surprise are you preparing for me?"
He was silent for a moment, then a low chuckle echoed from the bridge.