How the Hel did I get here? Sif thought to herself. She hung by her feet alongside other prisoners, the blood slowly rushing to her head. In the cavernous depths, she only vaguely recalled being awoken by energy fire, the ship careening as if being pulled off-course by something powerful. She soon recognized her fellow prisoners hanging beside her as other members of her vessel; some passengers, some crew, and some she didn't recognize. Did our ship have prisoners? She couldn't recall.

A guttural voice bellowed from somewhere, Sif's sense were still aimless from the disorientation. "Welcome to the Gutters," it said, the volume of it pounding in Sif's ears. The source of the voice stepped in view. It was a large creature and bulky with thick muscles rippling under its fur. Its face was ape-like with a wide-face and heavy canines that could nearly pass for tusks; all this framed with a mane of dark brown fur, thicker and fuller than the rest of it. A rock troll, Sif thought. Fantastic. "I am Ulik and I'm looking forward to this, because I see among you…Asgardians."

The word was uttered like a foul curse, lip curling back in disgust. "I've seen a great many of your kind in these parts, fleeing the Realm Eternal," Ulik continued. "I don't know what that bastard Odin did to send all of you running for greener pastures, but send him my thanks when you return to his vaunted halls, bloody and broken. Assuming he judges you lot worthy of Valhalla."

Sif struggled against the chains that bound her hands, but the links held tightly together.

"Oi, quit your rattling," Ulik said, his eyes focusing on her. He paused a moment before grabbing her chain and lifting her higher, practically to eye level. His breath came out noxious fumes, like what one would find in Midgard soil. "Say, I recognize you. What's your name, Asgardian?"

"I am Lady Sif of Asgard, monster," she said, eyes burning with defiance. "I do not fear you."

"Sif," he said in a low, rumbling whisper. "I have heard of you. You slew many of my brethren on Vanaheim. You and that damn Thunder God."

"I am a warrior. I do not regret the lives I've taken or the lives I've saved."

Ulik released her, letting her swing back into place. "Did you hear that, boys?" the troll shouted. "Sounds like we've got an eager contender." The troll's underlings roared in response, the deep cacophony echoing through the enormous cavern they were in. "Take them to the Bloodfarm."

The command was followed by a mad scramble and only moments later, the chains began to move along some automated rail. To her left, Sif heard the prisoner muttering, "All-Father save us."

Something tells me we'll have to solve on our own, Sif thought as the darkness of the tunnel overtook them.

…

The prisoners were dropped into a room—the Bloodfarm. Its name was well-earned. The room wasn't covered in blood, but there were mad streaks leading from the arena gate to a side passage; no doubt hundreds of injured or killed combatants have been dragged from the arena through that path.

"Is it true?" A voice behind her said. Sif turned. A golden-haired Asgardian man, more of a boy, really, stood before her, fear in his eyes. "Are you the Lady Sif?" Sif nodded. "Please, you have to help us." She could see the other Asgardians, although they didn't approach, were casting desperate glances her way.

"I give you my word: We will be free of this place," she said, loud enough so that the others could hear. "We will not die here."

That seemed to appease the Asgardians. For now. She has seen hope to despair quickly. Hope was always a fickle, unreliable thing. She had once placed her hope, her faith, in the All-Father. And where did it get her? No, she thought, chiding herself. He was in mourning, not thinking clearly. He is not to blame. One day, he will come to senses. Still, the thought languished in her mind. She had devoted her life to Asgard only to be banished for helping Loki, who would go on to give his life for Thor. And she remains banished, still.

She shook the thoughts from her head. Battle was soon to come. She would have to be ready.

The other prisoners were a mix of other races, some from the Nine Realms, some from beyond. It was the prisoners that worried her. Some had a hungry look in their eyes; perhaps they saw a chance for revenge against their captors or maybe even a chance at freedom.

Something burned in her head, an image flashed before her eyes for a moment, striking and vanishing as if like lightning. She saw the irony in that, but was that supposed to be a vision? It had ended well before she could even see anything. Perhaps Heimdall was trying to reach her. That thought worried her.

…

Ulik stood on a balcony well above them, though his voice reached them clearly. "It's time. We trolls like to open with the main event and really set the stage. Sif of Asgard has already volunteered to be our first contender," he said. Sif swore she could hear the smile on his face. "Do we have a second volunteer? I promise it's in your best interest to get on my good side and killing her will certainly get you far."

Sif turned towards the prisoners. She knew none of the Asgardians would fight her against and she suspected the crew members knew of her reputation. The prisoners, composed of all manner of creature, were the only ones stupid enough to try to fight her. "And I promise it's in your best interest not to get on my bad side," she said.

Her glare seemed to discourage them, even the kronan, a monster of living rock. It was time to see what Ulik would do. Until someone stood up.

Sif glanced at them. They were covered in some sort of metal suit. It wasn't a combat suit though. It kept the prisoner's arms pinned tightly around their back. Why did none of the prisoners have such a restraint?

They walked over to Sif, ignoring Ulik's chanting admiration. They were only a few inches taller than Sif, but larger, certainly. A voice, masculine but seemingly modified by the containment suit. "The others fear you. Is this warranted?"

Sif wasn't expecting that. She was expecting a threat, certainly some sort of boast. "I am—was one of the finest warriors in Asgard until my banishment. Their fear comes sense."

"Good," the voice said. "I do not wish to see undue bloodshed this day and I will not fight one that can't fight back."

That was likely the closest Sif would see to a boast. "That is an honorable stance…"

"Bill."

"Well, Bill, it is unfortunate that fate must pit us against each other. You seem an honorable man."

Some troll guards called Bill over, likely free him off his restraint, allow him to fight properly. "Not fate, Lady Sif. Circumstance," he said, under his breath, before walking away.

Sif watched him go. A curious man, she thought. One of the crew approached, an alien from a world she did not recognize. "What are his crimes?" Sif said.

The crewman thought for a moment. "Possession and integration of illegal cybernetics and public brawling, mainly," he said. "Think there was a count of sentient trafficking, but that was dismissed."

A cyborg? Sif had never fought a cyborg before.

Another flash and something pulling at her mind, pulled it into a distant place. She could see an endless, grassy field and an open, blue sky. The sea stretched out before her. She has seen this land before. It was somewhere on Midgard. But where…?

"Lady Sif," a kindly, familiar voice said.

"Lord Odin? Where are you? Is it you giving me these vision?" She looked, but she saw only the endless expanse. Her king was nowhere in sight.

"Be ready. Look beneath."

"What do you—?"

The vision crumbled away and she found herself standing before two troll guards. "Ulik knows you'll fight hard," the one on the right said.

"But just in case, he wanted to provide some encouragement," the one on the left said.

Before Sif could respond, one grabbed her while the other pressed a strange device against her shoulder. It buzzed to life before a mechanism punched something thin and wiry deep into Sif's shoulder.

She screamed for a moment before biting it back. A mild shock ran from her shoulder throughout her body. It took her a moment to get her breathing back under control.

"Don't fight, we give you a shock."

"Either it kills you or the other guys kill while you're writhing on the floor."

Sif stood tall and lifted her arms forward, still tied together in heavy chains. "Just untie me and give me a sword," she said.

…

They did give her a sword and even a shield. They weren't Asgardian-quality, but they would do. And she doubted Bill would be given anything significantly better.

Sif stepped through the bronze gates into the arena. It was a pathetic sight, barely more than a large, circular room carved out of the ground. To think, this could be the place of her final battle. Shameful, she thought

There was a cheering crowd, though they were certainly cheering for her death. She breathed deep. Bill seemed honorable, but he seemed ready to fight to the death, if necessary. A fine quality—admirable, even, but, she had to admit, a less desirable quality when it could result in her death.

"Fellow trolls of the Realm Below," Ulik shouted from somewhere up above. "Welcome to our first, and main, event. In the bronze corner, we have the slayer of countless trolls, companion to the Thunder God himself, Lady Sif of Asgard." The sound of uproarious screams echoed across the arena. Sif couldn't even tell if that was positive or not.

Ulik waited for silence before opening the opposite gate. A figure stood in the shadows. "And in the stone corner," Ulik said, "a cybernetic warrior, the pinnacle of korbinite technology, and a creature of incredible strength and skill." Stepping forward, free of restraints, Sif's eyes widened in surprise. "Beta Ray Bill!"

…

Sif studied Bill. He was not what she was expecting.

His face was bestial and elongated, but also frighteningly skeletal. His eyes were pale things with no pupils. He looked like a monster.

"Combatants," Ulik said, one final time. "Kill."

Bill shouldered his mace and strode forward leisurely. Even without the suit, his voice had the slightest mechanical tone to it. "You seem shocked, Lady Sif."

"Just surprised," she said, raising her shield.

"I would explain my appearance, but I don't think it matters right now, does it?"

Sif leveled her gaze. "I doubt either of us will be looking very good by the end of this," she said and she swore she heard him laugh before rushing in.

Bill brought his mace down, catching Sif's shield at an angle. Even from a glancing blow, she could feel the power behind it, almost getting thrown off balance entirely. Their blows were blocked in an equal flurry; Bill's strength meant Sif was forced to intercept his swings early, before they gained momentum.

Bill caught on to this and began using the mace in his left hand. His blows were easily parried until he slammed a heavy-handed fist into Sif's shield, launching her into the far wall. The impact knocked all of the air out of her lungs.

It was by instinct alone that she dodged the mace thrown with enough force to embed itself into the stone wall. Sif tossed the dented shield aside and ripped the mace from the wall. Bill charged her, weaponless, though, as Sif had just discovered, he certainly didn't need them.

Still finding her breath, Sif threw her sword; it spun, cutting a circular arc through the air. Bill jumped clear over it. Just as Sif knew he would. As his feet met the ground not far from Sif, the Asgardian brought the mace up in a savage arc, landing a hard blow on Bill's jaw.

The cyborg flew some distance before landing in a heap, the impact of the blow still echoing. Sif dropped to a knee, breathing heavily. Now the mace was dented. What the Hel was he made of?Uru?

The crowd didn't know what whether to cheer or boo. Even Ulik, wherever he was, didn't say anything, allowing the silence to linger.

Sif bowed her head. You were a worthy opponent, Bill, she thought. May Odin welcome you to—

Movement, and a large intake of breath from the crowd, drew her mind away from her silent prayer. Bill steadily pushed himself to his feet as all eyes were drawn to him. He rolled his shoulders, bringing with it the sound of straining metal. Then a pop.

Bill opened his eyes. "Well fought, Lady Sif. You are a worthy oppoent. But," he said, rubbing his shoulder, "it seems circumstances have changed." He turned towards the crowd. "Ulik, I'm ending this blood-sport now. No one dies."

Ulik appeared on the archway above the bronze gate. Laughing a guttural laugh. "Did that blow knock out your circuits, cyborg? This isn't over until you rip her head off."

Bill turned his pitiless gaze upon the troll. "It's over."

Anger contorted the troll's already bestial expression into something monstrous, devoid of any reason. "Fry him," Ulik growled. "Fry him."

A buzzing came from Bill's shoulder, sparks flying from the same device they injected into Sif. But Bill seemed only annoyed at the scattering sparks before a thin trail of smoke began rising and the sparks died out.

Bill stood unfazed, his glare aimed squarely at Ulik. "I will say one final time: this is over. Release us now."

The Lady Sif of Asgard looked at the cyborg in a new light. She heard Odin's words echo in her mind. Look beneath. She did so and Bill no longer looked a monster. A smirk touched her lips as she stood and tightened her grip on her battle-scarred mace. Standing alone, staring down evil, he looked like a warrior.