BOOM!!
Looma's devastating punch connected with earth-shaking force, causing the entire arena structure to convulse as if caught in a major earthquake. Cracks spread through the ancient stone like spider webs, and sections of the upper galleries began to crumble.
But the Red King, who had taken the blow directly, emerged with only minor damage.
His massive double-edged sword was held horizontally across his body, having served as both shield and deflector for Looma's assault. The weapon's exotic alloys had absorbed most of the impact, dispersing the force through his advanced exoskeleton.
"I told you," the Red King said with insufferable smugness, "this armor was specifically designed to counter your abilities. You could throw a thousand punches and accomplish nothing."
He swung the great sword in a brutal backhand strike that sent Looma tumbling across the arena floor. The exoskeleton didn't just provide superior defense—it amplified his strength to superhuman levels, allowing him to match opponents who should have been physically superior.
The Red King was preparing to coordinate with his royal guards for a finishing assault when urgent communications flooded his helmet's display.
"Your Majesty, we're under attack!"
"What?" The Red King had never imagined that his iron grip on Sakaar could be challenged by organized rebellion.
Before he could demand details, the sound of weapons fire echoed from every direction around the imperial capital—a symphony of violence that spoke of coordinated assault.
"Deal with her!" he snapped at his guards before turning to address the larger crisis.
Looma clapped all four hands together and grinned with fierce anticipation. "Perfect timing! I was just getting warmed up!"
The Red King was reaching for his communication console when a sleek fighter aircraft smashed through the Totem Tower's reinforced walls.
CRASH!
The impact tore a massive breach in the ancient structure, the explosion's shockwave hurling the Red King across the chamber despite his armor's protection.
When the smoke cleared, he found himself staring up at a familiar figure standing atop the crashed aircraft.
"Scavenger 142?!" he snarled in disbelief.
Brunhilde stood proudly in her restored Asgardian armor, the Dragonfang sword gleaming in her grip. Behind her, the sky was filled with a motley fleet of cobbled-together aircraft—scavenged fighters that looked like flying junkyards but bristled with improvised weapons.
The sight was almost surreal to the Red King, who had grown accustomed to his technological superiority.
"You mangy scavengers dare attack your betters?!" he roared.
"You won't be anyone's better much longer, Angmo-Asan," Brunhilde replied, her voice carrying the authority of a legendary warrior awakened from retirement.
For the first time in centuries, she looked like the Valkyrie she had once been—a force of godly justice rather than a broken refugee.
But the Red King wasn't intimidated by theatrical displays.
"Really?" he sneered. "With these flying scrap heaps you've welded together from garbage?"
He activated his communication system and spoke with cold authority: "Deploy the Wildebots."
The voice that responded seemed shocked, even frightened: "Sir, you mean the war machines? But there are millions of civilians in the capital..."
"They're just slaves," the Red King replied with chilling indifference. "If they die, they die."
The communication went silent.
"Wildebots?" Brunhilde asked, hearing the unfamiliar term. A frown creased her features as she studied the Red King's confident expression. "What is that?"
But the Red King had no intention of satisfying her curiosity.
"You'll find out soon enough," he said with a cold smile.
At that moment, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and struck the platform directly in front of the Red King. When the electrical discharge faded, Caiera stood there with barely contained fury radiating from her every movement.
"Caiera?" Brunhilde called out in surprise.
But Caiera ignored the greeting, her pale eyes fixed entirely on the Red King. Each step she took toward him was measured and deliberate, like a predator stalking wounded prey.
She had originally returned to confront him about the Spike attack that had destroyed her childhood, but now that seemed almost insignificant compared to his latest atrocity.
"Red King—no, Angmo-Asan," she said, her voice tight with suppressed rage. "I never imagined you would deploy the Wildebots within the capital itself. Don't you understand that once those machines are active, they'll devastate everything? Millions of your own citizens will die!"
The Red King regarded her with the same expression he might reserve for an annoying insect.
"Does the queen ant concern herself with individual worker ants?" he asked rhetorically.
His smile was utterly devoid of humanity, and it made Caiera's blood freeze in her veins.
"Those people are nothing more than my property—slaves, gladiators, or citizens, they're all the same category of resource. As long as I can eliminate these rebels, any collateral damage is acceptable."
More than acceptable—it was efficient. After all, Angmo-Asan himself wouldn't lose so much as a hair in the process.
Caiera began trembling with rage so intense that Old Power energy sparked from her body like living serpents crawling across the platform.
Her terrifying appearance reminded Brunhilde of Hela wielding Mjolnir—godly wrath given physical form.
"What do you consider life to be?!" Caiera screamed.
She launched herself at the Red King like a living thunderstorm, but he remained completely calm in the face of her fury. With almost casual indifference, he produced a small remote control and pressed a single button.
Instantly, neurotoxin flooded Caiera's nervous system.
THUD!
She collapsed to the platform, her body convulsing in agony as the poison spread through her bloodstream.
"Foolish creature," the Red King said as he walked over to deliver a contemptuous kick to her writhing form. "Did you forget I still held your leash?"
Brunhilde quickly moved to catch Caiera before she could fall from the platform.
"You pathetic traitor," the Red King continued, his voice dripping with mock pity. "You betrayed your own species, and now you've betrayed your master as well."
"Caiera, you truly are a pitiful creature."
"The only pitiful thing here is you," Brunhilde shot back immediately.
"Angmo-Asan, look around! How many people are standing against you? Even your most trusted subordinate has turned away, and you're still too stubborn to see the truth!"
She carefully positioned Caiera on her side and drew the Dragonfang sword, preparing for combat.
Honestly, dealing with Odin's family had been aggravating enough, but this megalomaniac was even worse than the worst of Asgard's royalty.
"You're all just insects beneath my feet," the Red King said with complete dismissal.
"Once I've exterminated you, it won't matter if every person on this planet dies. New slaves will come through the portal, and they'll serve me just as these did."
His expression shifted to one of mock enlightenment and regret.
"Perhaps I should have done this long ago. Garbage like you needs to be cleaned out periodically, or it starts to stink."
He glanced at the aerial battle raging outside and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "And you definitely stink."
"Complete madman," Brunhilde muttered.
At that moment, new developments emerged on the battlefield.
A massive warship appeared on the horizon, its hull scarred but functional. At the ship's prow, Loki stood resplendent in his green robes and golden horned crown, arms spread wide in a gesture of dramatic triumph.
"People of Sakaar, behold your salvation!" he declared.
"That Asgardian? He's not dead?" The Red King stared in surprise at Loki's theatrical arrival.
On the warship's deck, the resistance leader punched Loki in the shoulder and corrected him with obvious annoyance: "You're not our savior!"
Every rebel on the ship raised their weapons and shouted in unison: "We fight for the Son of Sakaar!"
"But the Son of Sakaar wants you to fight for yourselves," Loki replied with characteristic smoothness.
He picked up an energy rifle and stepped to the deck's edge, his voice carrying clearly across the battlefield: "No matter what you think of me, I'm fighting for my own reasons! Forward, brothers! Let's show that arrogant red skin exactly how much we enjoy holding grudges!"
The resistance leader immediately delivered another punch to Loki's arm. "I'm also red-skinned, you idiot!"
Despite the friendly violence, thousands of rebels simultaneously raised their weapons and prepared for assault.
Unlike the scavenger tribes, the resistance had been preparing for this day for years. Their equipment was superior, their training more thorough, and their motivation absolute.
With the rebels' arrival, the scavengers who had been losing ground suddenly found themselves reinforced by seasoned fighters. The tide of battle shifted dramatically as the Red King's guards found themselves overwhelmed.
But before Brunhilde could celebrate the apparent victory, she felt the ground beginning to shake beneath her feet. The entire Totem Tower swayed like a tree in a hurricane.
"What's happening?" she demanded.
"The Wildebots are deploying," the Red King laughed with maniacal glee. "Prepare to die!"
As if summoned by his words, colossal machines began erupting from concealed positions throughout the imperial capital. They rose from underground bunkers like mechanical giants awakening from slumber, carrying chunks of destroyed buildings and scattered civilians into the sky.
The screaming citizens—red-skinned Sakaarians who had never harmed anyone—fell like rain as their homes were demolished around them. They had no idea that their own king had condemned them to death.
Each Wildebot was a monument to destructive engineering—dozens of meters tall, weighing tens of thousands of tons, built from exotic alloys that could withstand orbital bombardment. They crushed everything in their path to powder, treating buildings and people with equal indifference.
Brunhilde watched in horror as she finally understood why Caiera had been so terrified of the Wildebots. These weren't just weapons—they were instruments of genocide.
And there were dozens of them.
The mechanical giants opened fire simultaneously, filling the sky with energy beams and explosive projectiles that made the scavengers' improvised aircraft look like toys. The carefully coordinated rebel assault disintegrated under the overwhelming firepower.
The Red King looked at Brunhilde and the fallen Caiera with undisguised mockery.
"Tell me," he said with false curiosity, "how exactly do you plan to win now?"
The entire imperial capital had become a hunting ground for mechanical predators. The Wildebots' massive, merciless forms crushed everything without distinguishing between rebel and loyalist—death was simply death to their targeting systems.
Beyond their crushing bulk, they wielded weapons capable of leveling city blocks with each shot.
"This isn't a contest between individuals anymore," the Red King continued with pedagogical patience. "It's not even about manpower versus manpower."
"Technology and superior firepower determine victory. And I possess the most advanced technology and weapons on all of Sakaar, plus an army that cannot be defeated."
He spread his arms wide in a gesture encompassing his mechanical legion.
"What could you possibly use to oppose me?"
At that moment, Loki leaped from his warship's deck, firing an energy beam directly at the Red King's head as he fell.
The shot was absorbed by an energy shield before it could connect.
Loki didn't seem surprised by the failure. He'd only been saying hello. After landing gracefully on the platform, he smiled with characteristic mischief and delivered his response:
"We have a Queen!"
BOOM!
As if summoned by his words, Looma crashed into the nearest Wildebot like a red missile. Despite being dwarfed by the mechanical giant's massive bulk, she struck with the force of a falling meteor.
BOOM!!
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