Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Chapter 2: Superstar

"Sister? You must be…you must be-"

Magni stammered over his words as he tried to regain his composure and thoughts. He was very much still focused on the uncanny resemblance to his mother that the woman on the throne possessed.

"You must be mistaken. The only sister I have is the one I share with Modi," he said, gesturing to his brother. When it came to the various relationships of the Norse gods, it could become quite confusing. Given their longevity, there was always the possibility that his father had more children somewhere in the Nine Realms, but Magni wasn't yet ready to face such a fact head on.

"Ah yes, Torunn Thorsdottir. Daughter of Thor and Sif," the woman gave a light chuckle. "Your father did get around a few times, didn't he? Rest assured, he didn't get around once more to make me. No, the only parent we share is Amora the Enchantress. I am your sister, Amara."

Modi scoffed. "Seems as if the Enchantress lacked creativity," he said with a glance to his brother. His expression became more serious when he realized that his amusement hadn't been shared.

Magni, to say the least, was quite put off from this. The thought of having another sibling, one that he had no prior knowledge of, seemed preposterous. When one lived as long as he did, it could be expected that he believed himself to know more than he did.

"Explain the circumstances. I may not have had the relationship with my mother that most dream of, but there is no reason your existence should have escaped my awareness," he said.

Amara looked down upon her brother with something resembling contempt. Her eyes trailed off, and even from his distance, Magni could tell that she was searching within for a specific memory. After a fleeting moment, Amara let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sure you're quite aware of our mother's relationship with Skurge the Executioner?" she asked.

Magni nodded. "Of course, Skurge served her out of love and yet she never returned his affections. She only used him for her own gain."

"Yes, but she did truly care for him in her own way. His death brought her great pain," Amara stared at several runes that were adorned upon the pillars of the throne room. "So much so that she harvested his blood for a spell. In combination with her own, she was able to create life. A daughter, not only for her, but for Skurge as well as he sat in Valhalla."

As his sister told the story of her creation, Magni couldn't help but feel a swell of jealousy within him. There were many questions he still had about his mother, many of which revolved around their relationship, if it could even be called that. He twisted Mjolnir's handle in his grip while contemplating the most pressing question he had with regards to his mother.

"Where is she now? I imagine she took every precaution to avoid Ragnarok," he mused.

A look of sadness washed over Amara's face that Magni recognized in an instant. Her eyes returned to her brother, which showed signs of wavering.

"With the life she lived, likely Hel. She died three days ago, lying before me."

Magni looked down to the floor and closed his eyes. Of course it was his luck that his mother was already dead. There would be no confrontation, no answers to his questions. In death, the Enchantress managed to escape the emotional reckoning that Magni sought to bring down upon her. He opened his eyes at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, and would look to his right to see his brother's calm and caring expression. He gave Modi a nod and returned his attention to Amara.

"How did it happen?" he asked.

"Sickness," she responded. "One that stripped her magic away piece by piece, otherwise she would have healed herself. If I was…even half the sorceress she was, I could have done it. Instead…all I could do was watch her die."

Magni could only imagine what it was like to watch her wither away. He had no such experience with his father, but he did know that Thor died in a similar way. Oftentimes he found himself thinking about his father's last moments, feeling life slip away from him as a result of the World Serpent's poison.

"She told me to seek you out," Amora continued. "She told me that the only family I had left resided in Asgard. That is why I am here. I wish to be a productive member of society."

Magni opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by his brother.

"How can we trust you? As unfortunate as the demise of your mother may be, your mother was known for her trickery. She was a master of slipping her knife into the back of those who believed her to be trustworthy. Why should we believe you will never do the same?" Modi asked. It was pragmatic and of a rational mind, which highlighted exactly why he was the God of Battle.

A smirk curled onto Amara's lips. Her eyes settled on Modi, exhibiting intrigue. Within a second, she disappeared in a puff of emerald smoke and would reappear in front of Modi with her hands behind her back. The second son of Thor didn't flinch a muscle, which Amara seemed to enjoy.

"You're more than welcome to keep an eye on me," she teased. Modi looked down at her with caution, but didn't say anything further.

"He does have a point, Amara. You were raised solely by the Enchantress. I find it hard to imagine none of her…worse qualities made no impression on you," Magni said.

Amara kept her eyes locked on Modi's for a brief moment, and would pull them away to address her brother. "I did not come all this way to cause you trouble. You are the only family member I'm aware of that still lives. You have no understanding of what that feels like because your family is massive. You have a brother, another sister, surely you have cousins and perhaps even nieces or nephews. You will never be alone, Magni but I…" she trailed off, searching for the right words.

She didn't need to continue. Magni brought a hand up to stop her and sighed.

"You need not to explain yourself. You are welcome to stay here in Asgard. Modi will keep an eye on you though, for a few days at least," he said.

At this, Modi raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Magni grabbed a hold of his brother by the arm and led him away from Amara so that the two could discuss the matter in private. He looked into his brother's eyes, which were as full of confusion as he'd ever seen them.

"Do I not get a say in this?" Modi asked.

"I am using my powers as King to say no," Magni responded, half-joking. "Everything you said was sound and correct, which is why I need you to keep watch of her. Just for a few days, nothing more. We must know that she is to be trusted."

Modi scoffed. "Could you not simply visit the Well of Wisdom and question Mimir of her trustworthiness?"

"Come now, you know we only go to him for the most dire of situations." Magni spared a brief glance over to his sister, who was admiring the architecture of the throne room. "What is there to fear? Her seductive charms? You are the strongest warrior I know, in more ways than one. Can I trust you with this?"

A look of deliberation crossed Modi's face. He knew that Magni had simply been making a joke about his power as King, and wouldn't force him to do it, but he couldn't ignore his allegiance to the throne. His King required this of him.

"Very well," Modi conceded.

Magni smiled and gave his brother a playful smack on the shoulder. "Verily, I knew I could rely on you." He turned to face Amara. "I shall send for your quarters here in the palace to be arranged. Until then, Modi can give you a tour of the city of Asgard."

"Delightful!" Amara exclaimed, clapping. Though Modi appeared less than enthused, Amara was the exact opposite. She looped her arm through his, stopping briefly to admire it with sly eyes. "My my, someone has an affinity for exercise, doesn't he?"

Modi looked to Magni, almost in a cry for help, but his brother merely chuckled and shook his head. It was an odd feeling, having two siblings that weren't related to each other, but he'd have to find a way to get used to it.

"Oh I'm just teasing you, you big oaf. Let's go. I await to see the beauty of Asgard." Amara took charge in walking ahead, leading her to virtually drag Modi along. Though she may have been considerably smaller, she was still an Asgardian that held natural strength beyond the limits of mortals.

As the two walked off, Magni climbed up the golden steps that led to the throne. He ran his hand over the armrest, feeling the cold and vibrant metal. There were many thoughts that swam through his head, all coming back to his family. He took a seat on the throne and sighed. The stories of his father's struggles with his own family began to come to his mind. Although they were two different people, under two different circumstances he couldn't help but to wonder if he would soon experience those same struggles.

Earth

Madison Square Garden

New York City, 9 PM

The World's Most Famous arena was sold out in Midtown Manhattan, with thousands in attendance for one of the largest professional wrestling events in the world. On an annual basis, the Unlimited Class Wrestling Federation would come to MSG for its spectacle event, Last Resort. As the fans in attendance cheered, an announcer would stand in the middle of the ring with a microphone in hand.

"The following contest, scheduled for one fall…is the main event of the evening!" The crowd let out a unanimous cheer in excitement. "And it is for the UCWF World Heavyweight Championship!"

The sounds of "Seek & Destroy" by Metallica blasted through the arena's speakers. Through one of two tunnels positioned on the stage walked a man with short red hair, dressed in yellow and brown tights, with a matching sleeveless jacket that had the letter D at the center in red. The man looked to the crowd and motioned for them to get louder, which they obliged as he walked down the ramp to the ring.

"Introducing first from Brooklyn, New York, standing a 6'3 and weighing in at 396 lbs., Demolition Man!" The announcer proclaimed into the microphone with a showman's cadence. Demolition Man entered the ring and raised his fist into the air, all smiles and determination. Looking out at the crowd, there were plenty of fans on his side with signs addressed to him. He nodded as he took in the atmosphere, and would turn around to face the stage while awaiting the arrival of his opponent.

The lights dimmed. Smoke would slowly filter out of the opposite tunnel and spread across the stage. For a moment, the crowd became quieter as "10's" by Pantera released from the speakers. A woman dressed in a green catsuit slowly sauntered out of the tunnel. She had hair white as cotton, with streaks of pink flowing among them. Vertically across her eyes was black face paint, almost reminiscent of a clown. Behind her walked a man that could have easily been mistaken for a sculpture. Across the left side of his chest and down his left arm were various tattoos, including a string of numbers marked in Roman numerals. He wore nothing but a pair of black jeans with a thin purple lining in them, combat boots and white tape wrapped around his hands. The biggest attraction, was of course the bedazzled gold championship belt that sat around his waist.

"And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by Paisley, from The Bronx, standing at 6'4 and weighing in at 265 lbs, he is the UCWF World Heavyweight Champion…'Titanium' Mike Creel!"

Creel made the slow, deliberate walk down the ramp, led by Paisley. The woman let out an almost psychotic laugh while staring down Demolition Man, though the challenger didn't appear to be frightened in the slightest. Once Creel entered the ring, he removed the championship from his waist and held it up for all to see. Paisley skipped around him, and would come to a stop at his side.

When it came time for the match to start, Creel and D-Man stood across from each other, their eyes locked in place together. Once the bell rang, the two men collided in a test of strength. D-Man pushed Creel towards the ropes, only for him to bounce off and shoulder charge the larger man. The impact was loud, but didn't move D-Man one bit. Looking down at his shoulder, he chuckled and motioned for Creel to hit him once again.

Creel stepped back into the ropes, bounced off and shoulder charged him once more, this time causing Demolition Man to stumble a step back. With a smirk on his face, Creel motioned for Demolition Man to try his hand at doing the same to him. D-Man obliged, bounced off against the ropes and shoulder charged Creel, but the result was the same. The two titans made eye contact and would both turn to run into the ropes, bounce off and shoulder charge each other. The collision of muscled flesh was loud, but neither fell. Looking at each other once more, the two ran in opposite directions for a repeat, but Creel elected to run past D-Man instead. Turning around, D-Man was met with the sight of Creel bouncing off the ropes, extending his arm out and dropping him with a hard clothesline across the throat.

"Come on Mike!" Paisley yelled from her position on the outside, leaning against the ring apron.

D-Man hit the mat and rolled onto his front, clutching at his throat in pain. Pouncing on him like a tiger, Creel grabbed D-Man in a front facelock and began applying pressure. Despite being stuck in the facelock, D-Man forced himself to his feet and drove Creel into one of the corners. The impact caused Creel to loosen up on his grip, which afforded D-Man the opportunity to drive his shoulder into Creel's midsection multiple times. He stood up straight, wrapped his arms around Creel's waist and tossed him overhead. Creel flipped through the air and landed hard onto his back with a loud thud to a small eruption from the crowd. Paisley gripped the bottom rope with both hands in a look of clear anxiety.

"Get up! You've been through worse. He's nothing to you!" she exclaimed in support.

D-Man grabbed Creel in a seated headlock from behind, depriving him of air. Fighting his way to his feet, Creel fired several elbows to D-Man's midsection in order to get him to loosen his grip. Once he was free, he headbutted D-Man, sending him into the ropes. D-Man attempted to bounce off and throw a right hook, but Michael ducked under the punch and grabbed D-Man to slam him with a Uranage.

Minutes later into the match, the two were standing toe to toe in a drawn out slugfest. Creel threw a forearm that connected with D-Man's jaw, only for D-Man to respond with a hard chop to the chest. The two traded each blow back and forth multiple times, each impact louder than the last. After a particular hard chop to the chest, Creel fired a slap to the face that rocked D-Man. With the new opening, he grabbed him by the jaw and fired multiple slaps, one after the other. Creel took a step back and launched a clothesline, but D-Man ducked under it. He wrapped his arms around Creel's waist and lifted him for a German Suplex. Creel landed on his neck and bounced onto his front. Seeing the new opportunity, Demolition Man walked to the corner across from Creel and knelt down, waiting for him to stand.

Once Creel pulled himself to his feet, with his hand to the back of his neck. Demolition Man charged to try and tackle Mike, but Creel kicked him in the face to stop him in his tracks. D-Man turned around, holding his face in pain. Creel used the opportunity to throw D-Man's arm around his neck, wrap his arms around D-Man's torso, and lift him into the air in order to drop him back onto his head with a hard suplex. The crowd erupted at the sight of the move. As D-Man laid motionless on the mat, Creel crawled over to cover him. The referee dropped down to his knees, checked to make sure both shoulders were on the mat, and proceeded to count.

"1….2…3!"

DING DING DING.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match to a deafening reaction from the crowd. Creel stood up, holding the back of his neck as the referee raised his arm into the air.

"Here is your winner, and STILL the UCWF World Heavyweight Champion…'Titanium' Mike Creel!" the ring announced yelled into the microphone.

As Creel's music blasted in the arena, Paisley entered the ring, holding the championship belt. She placed it around his waist and stood at his side with a devious and proud smile on her face. Creel pounded on his chest at the beat of the music, basking in the glory of his victory.

After walking through the curtain to the backstage area, Creel immediately grabbed a bottle of water from a nearby table, opened it and poured the contents over himself.

"You guys tore the house down out there," Paisley said while walking alongside him.

"Expected anything else?" Creel responded as he tossed the now empty bottle into a nearby trash can. The two passed by several wrestlers and backstage staff who congratulated Mike and stopped to chat with the pair.

"That was some good shit out there." Demolition Man passed by Creel and Paisley, and would come to a stop beside them with a water bottle in hand. He was no longer wearing his sleeveless jacket, and was instead shirtless. Across his chest was considerable bruising, a sign of their hard-hitting affair.

"We gotta do a stipulation next time, Dylan. It'll freshen things up," Mike suggested.

"Maybe," he responded with a slight shrug. "I kinda just like the good old fashioned way of beating the shit out of each other. None of that fancy stuff, we're not spot monkeys. We do it how it's supposed to be done."

Paisley aggressively rolled her eyes and sighed. "You sound like an old head, Dylan. You can't keep doing the same old stuff forever."

"If it still gets a reaction-"

Mike looked between the two, finding the conversation to be both pointless and entertaining at the same time. He sighed and shook his head, all the while taking notice of two distinct people standing near a road case. One was a very tall and muscular woman with strawberry blonde hair, and the other was a bald man about the same size as Mike. They were none other than Titania and the Absorbing Man, Carl Creel.

"I'll be right back–"

Mike said before separating from his two coworkers and making his way over to the two imposing figures. Once he was close enough, Titania immediately reached out to snatch Carl into a tight hug.

"Mike, I'm so proud of you! You did great out there, as always. Looked like a million bucks," she said while lifting Mike off of the ground. He looked around, feeling completely embarrassed at the public display of motherly affection, but he allowed it to go on until she finally put him down.

"Thanks, mom. I had to put on one of my better performances, knowing you guys would be here," Mike relied. He looked to his father, almost for approval. Carl stood with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face that soon faded.

"You know how I feel about fake sports–"

Mike rolled his eyes. "It's not fake it's scripted–"

"But I can't lie, I was entertained and impressed," Carl interjected, finishing his original thought. He gave a small smile and nodded in approval. "You're a superstar out there, and I'm glad you found your calling."

Mike smiled, finding his father's words to be more encouraging than he ever expected to hear on the topic of pro wrestling. He gave Carl a slight pat on the arm and chuckled.

"Thanks, dad. That's definitely the nicest thing you've said about my wrestling career," Mike said.

"But if you ever wanna get in that boxing ring, I can show you some–"

"Oh don't you start. Come on, we're going out to eat, remember?" Titana said, interjecting. She motioned for the two to go, but stopped to look at Paisley. "Wait Mike, why don't you ask Paisley if she wants to come along? She's practically family. That and she's looking kinda thin."

A look of skepticism washed over Mike's face. "She is not looking–

He shared a look with his father, who closed his eyes and gave a nod in agreement with Titania that caused Mike to cut himself short. He rubbed his forehead before turning to walk back over to Paisley, who was now by herself and scrolling through her phone.

"Hey, I'm going out to eat with my parents and they were wondering you'd wanna tag along?" he said without an extreme amount of enthusiasm. It wasn't that he didn't want her to come along, it was just that he feared what kind of conversations his mother would stir up with her again. Looking up from her phone, Paisley lingered for a moment.

"I wish I could, but something came up with my other job," she responded.

"When are you gonna finally ditch that place?" Mike asked.

Paisley scoffed. "When I get enough money from this to be able to do so. We don't all get paid like you, Mike." She gave him a soft pat on the arm and walked off towards the locker rooms. Mike watched her leave for a moment and then turned to head back over to his parents. Before he could reach them, he heard a feminine voice whisper his name into his ear. He immediately jumped and turned around, but there was no one there. Mike looked in both directions, searching for the source of the voice.

"You plan on changing so we can go, are you gonna go to dinner looking like that?"

Carl watched Mike with an eyebrow raised as he refocused his attention on the two. Mike took a breath and nodded. He didn't know what that was, but he didn't exactly like it either.