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The Watcher Station. Far side of the Moon.
Two months in, the base had shape. The dome's simulated gravity ran smooth. Supplies flowed through the quantum portals on schedule. The Plumbers weren't a concept anymore — they were a working operation.
Steve Rogers stood at the floor-to-ceiling viewport, looking at Earth.
"Still thinking about home, Captain?"
Gwen walked over with a hot coffee and handed it to him. "Peter just messaged. He found an old lady's cat in Queens, then stopped a convenience store robbery on the way home. Earth's doing fine without us."
"Good." Steve took the coffee and smiled. "Tony trained the kid well. I just keep wondering what we're really waiting for up here."
"Waiting to flip the table before the big guys treat Earth like a buffet."
Jake's voice came from the command console.
He was floating mid-air — Master Control Mode active, bouncing between forms as he fine-tuned the station's deep-space radar array. Grey Matter for the delicate wiring. Upgrade for the software. Brainstorm for the calculations. Cycling through three species of genius in the span of thirty seconds.
"Peace is a luxury, Steve." He landed back on the deck. "In my experience, the calm before the storm—"
Beep-beep-beep!
The main screen flashed scarlet. A station-wide alarm cut through every deck.
"—usually doesn't last long," Jake sighed, crossing to the panel.
"What is it?" Steve set the coffee down. Combat mode.
"Anomalous deep-space signal. Source is distant, but approaching fast." Jake's fingers blurred across the interface. "First half is an Asgardian emergency distress code. Translation: Odin is gone. Death descends."
"Thor's home?" Steve's face went tight.
"Looks like it. But that's not the worst part."
Jake pulled up the transmission's second half — a completely different frequency, riddled with violent static and the shrieking sound of spacetime itself being torn.
"This is a broadcast that piggybacked on the distress signal. Listen."
Szzzt... szzzt...
A voice filled the command hall. Deep. Hoarse. Carrying the resonance of magma bubbling in deep caverns:
"I am Vilgax. Addressing the natives of this new universe.
Your reality barrier is as fragile as a tattered fishing net. We have crossed the Void for a long time — and finally found this Old Wound.
The rift is open. Whether you are the gods of Asgard or the guardians of Earth — submit to me, or drown in the torrent from a higher dimension."
The signal cut.
Dead silence.
"Who is Vilgax?" Gwen asked. Cold had crept into her voice.
"Someone who shouldn't be in this movie at all."
Jake raked a hand through his hair. His expression was one neither Steve nor Gwen had seen before — genuine, unguarded shock.
"This is wrong. The butterfly effect from my arrival shouldn't have been enough to pull this guy into Marvel's universe."
He pulled up the Omnitrix database. On screen: an octopoid alien head in red and black heavy armor, tentacles, cold yellow eyes, and the particular silhouette of something that conquered planets as a hobby.
"Vilgax. The overlord of my home universe. The most dangerous conqueror on that side of the multiverse. He should be on the other end of the dial — getting hunted by the original Plumbers, on his own Earth."
"He said he found the Old Wound," Steve said.
"A multiversal rift. The wall between universes is leaking somewhere. Must be old — ancient damage that's been hidden for eons, finally discovered by interstellar raiders smart enough to look."
Jake turned to the team.
"Bucky, Wanda — stay on the Moon. Eyes on the radar. Steve, Gwen — grab the heavy gear. We have a trip."
"Where?" Steve asked. "To seal the rift?"
"First, we go to the signal's relay station." Jake patted the silver-white ship docked beside them — the Old Broken Car III Modified, his first fully operational cruiser. "The broadcast originated from Sakaar. Lawless junkyard planet. The universe's best armory, and if Vilgax wants a foothold in this reality, that's where he's building it."
Several hours later.
The ship cut through a chaotic star field. Wormholes arranged themselves in space like funnels, each one spewing cosmic debris — derelict warships, rusted cargo pods, the skeletal remains of ancient battles.
"Warning — extreme spacetime gravitational instability." Gwen checked the instruments. "Jake, the time readings are jumping everywhere. Our clock doesn't match anything outside."
"Normal."
Jake stabilized the yoke, banking around a massive warship wreck. "Sakaar sits at the bottom of every wormhole in the universe. Time runs weird here. A day outside could be a year here. Or the other way around."
He glanced back.
"Don't be surprised by what we find. Thor could have just arrived. Or he could have been stuck there for years."
BOOM.
The ship dove through the Devil's Anus — Sakaar's largest wormhole — and emerged above mountains of cosmic garbage stretching to the horizon.
Sakaar. Main city.
Disguised as alien mercenaries in cloaks and breathing masks, the trio moved through streets where the Grandmaster's holographic advertisements blanketed every wall.
"Tonight's main event! The Lord of Thunder — versus — the Invincible Beast from Another Dimension!"
"Good," Jake muttered, pulling down his hood. "We're just in time."
They infiltrated the arena.
Below, Thor stood in the center of the combat pit — holding two broken swords, hair cropped short, dust and grime on his face. He looked tired. Not god-tired. Captured-and-forced-to-fight-for-months tired.
In the VIP box, the Grandmaster rubbed his hands with the delight of a man who'd bet on the outcome. Beside him — Loki. Dressed in green robes, holding a wine glass, projecting comfort that his trembling hand betrayed.
"Hope there's something new," Loki muttered. His knuckles were white on the glass.
BOOM. BOOM.
Heavy footsteps shook the arena floor. The crowd exploded into cheers.
And Jake's expression froze.
From the opposite gate emerged the Champion — five meters tall, four massive arms, body like red rock.
A Tetramand. Same species as Four Arms.
But modified.
Black cybernetic tubing had been grafted into its skin. Its eyes were replaced with glowing red optics. Each of its four arms carried heavy mechanical exoskeletons pulsing with destructive energy. And branded into its chest — seared into the flesh like a cattle mark — was an insignia Jake recognized from nightmares.
Vilgax's conqueror sigil.
"Damn it," Jake whispered. "He's using Sakaar as a biolab."
"Jake," Steve said quietly. "You said a 'big guy' was supposed to be here. If this modified creature is the Champion — where's the original?"
Jake's gut clenched.
"The script says the Champion on Sakaar should be the Hulk."
"Then where is he?"
"Either Banner escaped—" Jake's eyes narrowed. "Or Vilgax took him."
If it was the second one... that was very, very bad.
In the arena, the modified Tetramand backhanded Thor into a wall hard enough to crack stone. Thor slid down, dazed, blood at the corner of his mouth.
"DIE!" The monster raised a massive battle-axe for the killing strike.
In the VIP box, Loki shut his eyes. He didn't want to watch his brother die.
"STOP!!!"
A roar shook the arena.
Jake vaulted from the stands — a drop of thirty meters, straight into the pit. Mid-fall, he slammed the dial.
Green light exploded.
Four Arms.
BOOM!
A red giant — thirteen feet tall, four arms, every muscle carved with genuine Tetramand proportions instead of cybernetic grafts — landed between the modified monster and Thor. He caught the descending battle-axe with one hand. Stopped it dead.
In the VIP box, Loki opened his eyes at the crash. He saw the red figure's back. His wine glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.
"Him?!" His pupils contracted. "The guy who thrashed me AND the Hulk?! How did he follow me HERE?!"
In the arena, Jake glanced back at the stunned Thor, then turned to face the corrupted version of his own alien species.
"Hey, ugly."
Four fists clenched. A war cry built in his chest — the full-volume battle roar of a Tetramand facing an insult to his bloodline.
"Tell your master."
The roar shook dust from the arena ceiling.
"He picked the wrong universe."
[Multiverse invasion signatures detected.]
[Hulk whereabouts: UNKNOWN. Plot severely deviated.]
[Faction mission triggered: Orthodoxy vs Heresy.]
[Defeat the modified creature. Send a message to Vilgax — this is YOUR territory.]
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