My first fight in the arena, it was a strange experience.
I had felt the cold grasp of death closing around me, threatening to pull me into its eternal abyss. Yet I had not once felt scared, both close and far away from death as I marched towards the Cavaranthus Mazorus. My blade, dull and chipped continually swinging and intercepting the tentacles.
The initial group of tentacles were easy to block. Their numbers were small but after that salvo, the number increased and while I never once broke my stride, I had to strain my arms and eyes further just to keep up with them all. Yet with each step, I took forward, my eyes seemed to adjust, able to keep up with the speed of the tentacles that much easier. My arms in turn were able to move much quicker, moving into the path of the strikes and intercepting them.
Eventually, the beast had no tentacles left and it just slumped in defeat. Finishing it off from that point was quite simple.
But what it showed to me was something that I had completely ignored. I had known this, told myself constantly back when I was a soldier on Krypton that power was not everything. That just because I had great strength and speed, just because I had the godlike powers of a Krypton did not mean that I was unbeatable.
Saying that without knowing what that power felt like was simple. Yet once you felt it within your body, it was more addictive than any drug in the world. It was no wonder people became so easily corrupted by the power they wielded.
It was an indescribable feeling, having all that power at your fingertips.
Yet that moment in the arena, even with my powers so weakened, I was reminded of what I had told myself back on Krypton. Power was not everything, skill and intelligence would also determine victory.
This arena, being a gladiator within it and on a planet with a dying sun would provide me with that chance to develop my skills even further. I would not have the crux of possessing greater power than my opponent to fall back upon. No, instead I would have to rely upon superior skill and intelligence to win my fights from this point on. Even as my powers would grow, absorbing what little yellow sun radiation bore down upon me, nothing would change.
"I am Primus Vand." Another of the red-skinned Sakaarans proclaimed as he stood upon a floating platform. In the pit below, a burning behemoth roared out, shocked with electrical charges from numerous autonomous robots. "I spent four undefeated seasons in the Imperial Arenas and was granted freedom by the Emperor's father."
I already knew the rest and so, tuned him out.
This place I found myself in was the Maw, memories of reading the comics flooding back into my mind. A gladiator school. There was not much else other than that, except the test that all initiates had to go through upon entering.
After all, the Maw was a prestigious gladiator school which while never officially stated, I could quite easily infer had produced some of the finest gladiators ever to grace Sakaar. Not just anyone could train here so there needed to be a few weaklings culled from the masses, similar to how the Viltrumites culled the weak from their own.
"Twenty-two have entered this field. Only seven will leave it." Primus Vand grimly stated, seemingly taking pleasure in the looks of nervousness shared amongst many of the slaves. I was one of the few unworried by such a proclamation.
But of course, not everyone had resigned themselves to their fate, nor were they looking forward to the challenge like some. "I'm a citizen of the Empire!" One red-skinned Sakaaran exclaimed, dressed in fancy robes. "An elected representative in the community congress. Does the law mean nothing? I demand to know what I've been charged with! I demand a trial! I demand-"
In that instant, Primus Vand pointed the staff he had in his hand at the Sakaaran and fired a beam of white energy of some kind upon him. Momentarily I turned my gaze away from the bright light, as did many but as quickly as it appeared it subsided.
Yet the Sakaaran was nowhere to be seen, just a smoking black spot where he once stood remained. There were more than a few that looked shocked, though perhaps not by the death, but by the power of the staff that Primus Vand possessed. The realisation that he could quite easily do the same to them hitting us all.
"Fight or die."
Quickly, many slaves around us gathered weapons and it seemed that already, two factions had formed. Those like myself that had newly arrived, and those that had been here earlier than us. Unlucky for me, I seemed to have caught the short straw.
All I had on my side was myself, Miek and three other Natives. Hardly a force to be feared and it left a sour taste in my mouth as I looked upon the other group. Eight red-skinned Sakaarans, one Sakaaran Shadow Person and one Kronan. What made it worse, was the fact that those lot had seemed to take one luck at me and those on my side and without saying a word, seemed to have the same idea.
Take us out first.
The smart choice really.
Sixteen of us in total, five on my side. Take us out and only eleven would remain meaning they only had to kill four others.
'Wait, only sixteen? But he said twenty-two.' I looked to Primus Vand, seeing the smirk upon his face. Instantly my eyes started scanning my surroundings and I found nothing which made no sense whatsoever the other six needed to be hiding somewhere else.
"Wait a minute," I spoke up, shifting out of my stance and into a more neutral position. My movement certainly earned a few reactions, people tensing up in preparation but none seemed willing to start fighting just yet. So I used this to turn my attention to Primus Vand who looked upon me with a frown. "You said twenty-two. You've just killed one making it twenty-one. But there's only sixteen here, where's the other five?"
That got the reaction I wanted, everyone, not just myself and Miek who had also noticed the same thing as myself looking around. By the look upon Primus Vand, it wasn't what he wanted but at the same time, he seemed to have recognised what I had done. He may not like it, but at the very least he understood and even seemed to agree with my actions.
After all, instead of the other group of slaves finishing us off, they were now looking around for the other five slaves. And I didn't let this opportunity go to waste, as I ripped the spear out of one of the Natives' arms and threw it with all my might.
It pierced cleanly through the skull of one of the red-skinned Sakaarans that had been hiding the back.
This action caught many by surprise and I used this opportunity to charge forwards. Rapidly closing the distance between myself and the other group of slaves before most had a chance to recover. Only a handful did, those I recognised that would go onto form Hulk's Warbound in the comics.
Korg.
Elloe Kaifi.
And Hiroim.
The former of which swung his huge broadsword, easily longer than myself at me but I just slid upon my knees. It was a move I had seen in movies and I can tell you, it feels as satisfying as it looks. Just seeing that blade pass mere inches above your face, seeing your facing in its reflection, there's just something really satisfying about it.
Either way, I slid out from underneath his swing, quickly getting to my feet and rushing to the remaining two red-skins hiding at the back. I knew from my memories that Hulk and the Warbound stick together throughout their time in the arena. Considering that I had somehow, taken the role of Hulk in this story, it would be in my best interest to keep the strongest alive.
My blade sang as it cut through the air, no form, no flair or style, but it possessed speed and strength. A clean-cut removin the heads of the two red-skins, one man and one woman.
Both collapsed to their knees, head splattering against the ground moments later. In a matter of seconds, I had killed three slaves, reducing our numbers further. Only eleven slaves needed to be killed and I already had my eyes upon the next ones. I turned, seeing the Natives and Miek had followed my lead, clashing against the other group of slaves though they proved to be a little challenge.
Most had turned their attention to me, namely those I wanted to keep alive.
I saw from behind them though that Miek, was on the verge of being killed, yet in that instance, the other five members of the Maw arrived. They rushed through the air, two thorns bursting out from the chest of the red-skin that was about to kill Miek.
The remaining four continuing on, killing two more before chaos erupted fully.
Smirking at the sight, I gripped my blade watching as Korg turned his attention away from me, as did Elloe Kaifi and Hiroim. With their attention focused on the Brood, I turned my attention to the six clashing figures a little ways away from myself.
A Brood came in close overhead, attempting to impale me with its tail but my sword deflected it away, I jumping up and kicking it directly into the back of Korg. The Kronan looked to me out of the corner of his eye, a glare he gave showing his desire to smash my head open as he did just that to the Brood I had hit him with. But his attention was once again turned to the flying Brood overhead, it proving to be quite the elusive foe.
Using this opening, I rushed towards the clashing Natives and the three red-skins.
They were just dead weight and I couldn't afford to have them holding me down as I fought my way through this arena.
-X- Line Break -X-
Then there were seven.
I had to give myself a pat on the back as I do say so myself, I've done a good job. All those that would go on to form the Hulk's Warbound were alive. Not the most powerful group in the world, but I had to admit, they could prove very useful to me in the future.
Sakaar was simply a roadblock on my journey back to the top. There was nothing lower than a slave and when one hits rock bottom, the only way from then is up. The opportunity to train myself was here, but above all else, I had the opportunity to gain allies.
Though things wouldn't be as simple as they were in the original story. My blood didn't bring life back to the planet so I couldn't go around proclaiming myself to being the Green Skaar.
But what I could do, was try and convince people to see the Green Skaar more as a saying. That they themselves, all together, are the Green Skaar and that it's not just one being. Convince them to rise up and rebel without having the Hulk to rally behind. Would it be easy? No, not in the slightest but the arena was a double-edged sword for any ruler.
It was possible for even a slave like myself to become more popular and beloved than any King. That's exactly what I was going to do and then I'd use that popularity to my advantage.
Like I had learned, power was not everything.
A ruler couldn't solely be strong.
Now was the time to sharpen not only my body and skills but also my mind.