Carol Danvers, known across galaxies as Captain Marvel, stumbled slightly as she was shoved through a metallic doorway by a brutish guard. The door slammed shut behind her with a mechanical hiss, locking her into a sterile, dimly lit chamber that echoed her every breath. The guard didn't say a word, just pointed to the blinking control device on his wrist, then to the inhibitor clasped tightly around her throat. A warning. A reminder. A leash.
Then he was gone, leaving Carol alone.
She instinctively reached up to rip the collar off, muscles twitching with suppressed power. But her hand paused mid-air. The thought that burned so brightly in her mind only seconds earlier, break free, fight, escape, slipped away like mist in a morning breeze. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she frowned. That wasn't like her.
Her mind, usually so sharp and unrelenting, felt... fuzzy.
She clenched her fists. Something was wrong.
No, something had been done to her.
Before she could dwell on the thought, a deep tremor ran through the floor beneath her boots, followed by the groan of colossal gears turning. Light, blinding and brutal, flooded the chamber as the far wall split open like a gaping maw. She squinted, raising a hand to block the rays pouring in.
Then came the sound. A thunderous roar of voices, of stomping feet and screaming lungs. A crowd. Massive. Eager. Bloodthirsty.
Aren—
No.Not an arena. A coliseum.She stepped forward into the light and instantly understood. The curved walls, the layered tiers, the shields of transparent force that caged the audience in and left the fighters bare. The smell of sweat, of ozone, of spilled blood soaking into synthetic sand.
They were here to watch her fight. Or die.
Or both.
She took a step onto the battleground, her boots crunching lightly in the arena's floor. Then her gaze fell upon the stretcher, no, the corpse-like form being hauled away by attendants. Bloodied. Broken. Unmoving.
Her stomach clenched.
Beta Ray Bill.
His horse-like face was slack, one arm bent the wrong way, his golden hammer missing. The crowd jeered at his broken body as if mocking his defeat.
He was strong. Not someone who could be taken down easily. For him to fall here...
Then her heart froze.
Across the arena, standing at the edge of the exit tunnel, was a towering green form. Rigid. Hulking. Radiating rage.
"Hulk?" she breathed, half in disbelief, half in dread.
Their eyes met. His were savage, storming with emotion. But there was something off. The anger wasn't wild, it was caged, like a fire controlled but ready to be unleashed. The same collar she wore was clamped around his thick neck, the metal almost glowing from the heat of his fury.
He turned without a word and walked away.
Carol felt her muscles twitch. Her instincts screamed at her to fly after him, to demand answers. But before she could take a step, another figure emerged.
A ripple ran through the crowd, the atmosphere shifting from excitement to reverence.
He walked slowly, deliberately, tall, statuesque, and otherworldly.
His skin shimmered like molten silver beneath the arena's twin suns. His eyes, dark and deep as distant stars, met hers across the battlefield. He said nothing. He didn't need to. She recognized him instantly.
Norrin Radd.The Silver Surfer.
A former herald of Galactus. A being who once rode the cosmic tides. And now, like her, a prisoner.
In his left hand, he held a sleek, double-ended sword-staff, forged from alien alloys that hummed with energy. He looked as regal as he did tragic. Neither happy to be here, nor surprised.
Carol's hands clenched at her sides. She felt it again, that pull. The collar's influence, the mental fog creeping in. Urging her to fight. To perform. Her body wanted to move, to charge, to hit something. But her mind resisted, digging its heels in against the tide.
Still, she reached for the weapon offered to her. A metal club, heavy and barbed. Primitive compared to the cosmic powers she normally wielded, but somehow fitting in this gladiator pit. Her fingers curled around the hilt.
Her boots stomped forward with grim purpose.
Above them, a floating platform descended with theatrical flourish. Lights shimmered around it, casting a spotlight on the announcer who stood atop it, an alien figure in flamboyant attire with too many arms and a grin far too wide.
His voice boomed through the coliseum, enhanced by sonic devices embedded in the arena walls.
"LADIES AND GENTLEBEINGS FROM ACROSS THE SYSTEMS, WELCOME BACK TO THE PRIME CARNAGE ARENA!"
The crowd exploded into deafening cheers. Fists pumped, drinks spilled, alien currencies tossed into the air as bets were made.
"IN THIS CORNER," the announcer continued, gesturing toward the silver warrior, "WE BRING YOU A TREAT FROM THE STARS THEMSELVES, A FALLEN HERALD OF THE WORLD-DEVOURER, GALACTUS. A BEING OF COSMIC LEGEND, STRIPPED OF HIS BOARD BUT NOT OF HIS BITE! THE SILVER SURFER, NORRIN RADD!"
Another round of cheers. Louder now. Some boos, too. They loved to love him, or hate him. All the same to the crowd.
"And in the OTHER corner…" The announcer's voice deepened with dramatic flair. "...FOR ALL YOU KREE WATCHING FROM THE EMPIRE, YOUR VERY OWN RENEGATE! A HERO TO SOME, A TRAITOR TO OTHERS, CAPTURED AFTER DESTROYING AN ENTIRE WAR FLEET! THE ONE, THE ONLY, CAPTAIN MARVEL!"
The arena thundered. Kree in the crowd stood and cheered. Others jeered. All of it blurred into a tide of noise.
Carol narrowed her eyes.
She looked once more at Norrin.
He nodded once. Slow. Respectful.
This wasn't personal.
But it would be war.
"FIGHT!"
The announcer's voice detonated across the arena like a war horn, and in the same instant, the restraints that held back two of the most powerful beings in existence dropped.
The air itself seemed to pause, tension crackling like static between the two combatants. Then—
BOOM.
They moved.
In the blink of an eye, Captain Marvel and Norrin Radd became twin blurs of motion, streaking across the arena floor like comets on a collision course. The moment they clashed, center stage, center chaos, a concussive shockwave burst outward, rippling through the arena like a living pulse.
The crowd went wild.
Thousands rose to their feet, roaring, shouting, tossing credits and currency into the air as betting screens lit up across the stands. Every eye was glued to the battlefield.
A metallic clang rang out, followed by a sharp crack, then the unmistakable snnng! of metal dragging against metal as weapons clashed in a whirlwind of godlike force. The sheer weight behind each blow forced the arena's energy barrier to flare into visibility, hexagonal panels lighting up in rapid succession to absorb the impact.
They weren't holding back.
Carol's club, forged from alien alloy dense enough to crack starship hulls, swung in wide arcs, each one singing through the air like a meteor. She fought like a storm: wild, direct, unrelenting. The power that radiated off her form shimmered with golden light, streaked with prism-like fragments that danced across her limbs like refracted stars.
Norrin Radd countered her fury with grace.
His silver body glided between strikes, his sword-staff a blur of elegant parries and precise thrusts. Every move he made flowed like water yet struck with the force of a collapsing star. When he counterattacked, his energy surged, cold silver, dotted with flickering motes of translucent white light that shimmered like the surface of a calm moon.
This wasn't just a fight, it was a dance of destruction.
Carol ducked beneath a sweeping strike, her feet skimming the surface of the arena as she flipped into the air and launched a focused energy blast straight from her palm. It shrieked through the space between them, a golden beam wrapped in a corona of iridescent color.
Norrin pivoted mid-spin and returned fire with a blast of his own, silver and searing with cosmic energy.
The beams collided.
KA-KOOM!
A blinding flash swallowed the center of the arena, followed by a boom that shook the stands. The ground where their attacks met was gone, utterly vaporized, reduced to a molten crater in the shape of a perfect ring. Dirt, sand, and steel alike were atomized.
Even the crowd, hardened warriors and bloodthirsty gamblers from dozens of species, fell momentarily silent at the sheer devastation.
Then Carol was on him.
A streak of gold carved across the air as she launched herself through the settling dust cloud, club held high above her head. There was no finesse this time, only brute, raw force. She roared as she descended, a war cry that echoed like thunder.
Norrin twisted to parry, but he was half a second too late.
The club slammed into his shoulder with enough force to crater the ground beneath him.
BOOM!
The Silver Surfer was driven downward like a meteorite. His sword-staff slipped from his grasp, embedding itself into the dirt several feet away as the ground cracked and split beneath his feet. Silver skin rippled with the force of the blow, and for a moment, just a moment, his legs buckled.
Carol landed, panting, her chest heaving, eyes narrowed in fire-lit determination.
The crowd lost their minds.
Cheers thundered from every direction, a chorus of primal delight as they witnessed something few ever had: the Silver Surfer wounded, forced to kneel, brought down, if only temporarily, by a mortal.
Carol didn't wait for the moment to pass. The collar was still influencing her thoughts, her instincts screaming to keep going, to finish it, to perform.
Amid the riotous uproar of the crowd, four figures sat still, like unmoved pillars in a storm of motion and sound.
They were nestled in a private booth, encased in tempered glass and gold-trimmed shielding that barely held back the vibrations of the fight below. The room offered a clear view of the arena, and from their elevated perch, they had front-row seats to the battle shaking the very air.
William sat in the center, arms slung comfortably around two very different but equally fierce women.
To his right, Harley Quinn lounged with that chaotic sparkle in her eye, her legs tossed lazily over his lap as if they weren't watching two godlike beings try to kill each other. She absentmindedly twirled a lock of platinum-blonde hair around her finger, eyes darting between William's face and the battlefield like a cat watching both its prey and its master.
To his left, Kara Zor-El, Supergirl, was leaned forward, tense but calm, her blue eyes narrowed and glowing faintly from the energy in the air. The corners of her mouth were tight, concern and calculation warring quietly on her face.
Peter Parker, meanwhile, sat on the edge of his seat, practically vibrating.
His fingers gripped the railing tightly, knuckles pale, eyes locked on the arena below. The feral clash of energy, the tremors rattling up through the floor, the sonic booms echoing with every strike, it was overload. His Spider-Sense had been on DEFCON 1 since the moment Carol and Norrin began trading blows.
"If it wasn't for that barrier," Peter thought, eyes wide, sweat gathering at his temple, "I'd be halfway across the city by now."
He reached up and scratched the back of his head, trying to will his nerves to calm. But the storm on the battlefield made it impossible.
Down below, two cosmic titans were locked in a war of attrition, and everything was escalating.
William's gaze tracked every move with sharp intensity, but his mind wasn't entirely focused on the fight. He watched the combat with furrowed brows, his golden eyes glinting not with worry, but curiosity. Suspicion.
"How the hell did they capture the Silver Surfer of all people?" he muttered, half to himself.
Both Harley and Kara turned to look at him.
"You know him, puddin'?" Harley asked, her tone playful but tinted with curiosity. She curled closer, resting her arms around his neck as her lips brushed just behind his ear.
William didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched.
"I know of him," he replied carefully, eyes never leaving the arena. "But that guy? That's Norrin Radd. He used to be the Herald of Galactus. And someone managed to capture him? That… shouldn't be possible."
His thoughts spiraled darker from there.
"Especially considering who he works for… or used to work for."
BOOOOOOM!
The entire booth shook violently as the fight below hit a new level of ferocity.
In the arena, the battlefield had changed again, Carol and Norrin had just landed simultaneous, thunderous blows that would've atomized most beings. Their weapons, already weakened from repeated blows, finally gave in to the raw power behind the strikes.
CRACK... SHHHH!
In a blinding cascade of light and noise, the weapons shattered. Shards turned to glowing dust, then faded into molecular nothingness, scattered like stardust across the cratered battlefield. Now unarmed, the two warriors stood across from each other, bloodied, bruised, breathing hard, but far from finished.
That was when Norrin charged.
The Silver Surfer moved like a bullet, fist cocked back and gleaming with residual cosmic energy. His silver form blurred across the distance, and before Carol could recover, his punch smashed across her face with a crack that echoed like a lightning strike.
She was flung sideways, spinning in midair before her boots dug into the dirt. She slid several meters, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris before regaining control.
And then she countered.
Carol used the momentum from her slide to pivot, flipping her body around like a whip. Her leg extended in a spinning arc, her boot connecting squarely with the side of Norrin's head.
CRACK!
The force launched the Silver Surfer into the ground, cratering the earth beneath him and sending tremors rippling across the coliseum. The crowd gasped, then cheered wildly, unable to pick a clear favorite, caught between awe and bloodlust.
But neither warrior stayed down.
"WHOOSH!"
Two beams of pure energy erupted at once, Carol's golden light infused with kaleidoscopic shimmers; Norrin's a piercing silver laced with ghostly particles that looked like frozen starlight. The blasts collided mid-air with a deafening thunderclap, forming a blistering core of unstable energy.
The energy didn't cancel out. It wrapped around each other like serpents, then split in wild arcs, some scattering into the air, but two massive threads shot off towards the opposing figure.
BAM! BAM!
Striking both combatants dead-on.
Carol was hurled into the far western wall of the arena, crashing against the barrier with a sound like a cannonball striking steel.
Norrin was thrown in the opposite direction, smashing shoulder-first into the energy shield and falling to one knee.
The crowd went silent for half a second. Breath held.
Then, like fire erupting from dry brush, they exploded into cheers again.
William exhaled slowly.
He leaned forward, tension bleeding through his calm posture. He had seen a thousand battles. Lived through worse. But something about this one felt wrong.
The weight behind it. The way it escalated. The eerie coordination of it all that made the hair on William's neck stand up as if they were simply automatons fighting under the strings of their masters.
Subtle green ki flared in William's eyes as the possibility of mind control entered his mind.