"Great Devil? Which Great Devil?"
The Collector blinked groggily as he slowly emerged from the haze of his concentrated illusion elixir.
His breathless maid stood stiffly before him.
She had once guided Soren into the City. Since then, everyone in the Knowhere had adopted the nickname 'Great Devil' for him. She'd grown so used to saying it, she forgot how absurd it sounded when spoken aloud.
"S-Soren, sir," She clarified quickly. "Soren is here."
"…!!!" The Collector froze for half a heartbeat. Then he lurched upright so fast his chair toppled behind him.
"Quick invite him in! No~no, I'll go myself!"
Soren was not someone he dared risk offending.
The being who had killed the Flame Titan, one of the strongest monstrosities the Collector had ever catalogued was not someone to keep waiting.
Not to mention… he still hadn't found any trace of Thor, despite Soren's request.
…
The bar fell into stunned silence as the Collector burst through the doors, something he almost never did in public.
"Soren! It's been too long!" He announced, smiling like a man greeting both a friend and a loaded plasma cannon.
"That's him… the Great Devil…"
Whispers shivered through the crowd.
"Collector's being polite."
"There must be something big between them…"
Even the ones who didn't fear Soren bowed their heads in respect.
Then the Collector's eyes landed on Freyja… and he immediately shifted gears.
"This isn't a place for proper conversation," He said smoothly. "Soren, Miss Freyja please, come with me. You two look… wonderfully matched."
Freyja flushed instantly, a graceful smile appearing on her lips.
And before the crowd could digest the sight, the Collector whisked the two of them away.
"There can't be many people in the universe Collector treats so politely…"
"Man… if I had power like the Great Devil, I'd have status too. Respect, wealth beautiful women everywhere~"
"Keep your voice down, idiot! You owe me money! Pay that back before dreaming of power!"
"A-alright, alright! I'm just saying!"
The bar erupted in quiet, excited gossip.
Most of them admired Soren the way mortals admire storms… terrified, but aspiring.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
The Collector's personal hall glowed with impossible beauty… floating relics, shimmering artifacts, weapons forged from dying suns, cages holding strange cosmic creatures that watched silently from behind stasis fields.
Freyja's heart quickened as she recognized only a fraction of the treasures here and each one rare enough to spark wars.
"Feel free to explore, Miss Freyja," The Collector said with a flourish. "Anything catches your eye…consider it yours."
"No need for courtesy."
Freyja hesitated, glancing at Soren.
He nodded. "Go on."
"You won't see items like these anywhere else. And if something truly interests you… take it."
He said it casually, but he knew exactly what the Collector was doing, offering a gift through her, to avoid the appearance of bribing Soren directly.
The maid guided Freyja deeper into the hall, leaving the two men alone.
The Collector exhaled slowly, shoulders dropping as soon as Freyja was out of earshot.
"Soren… I must apologize." His expression twisted with genuine embarrassment.
"You asked me to investigate Thor's whereabouts. But so far… nothing. No sightings in any of the star systems I have informants in."
Soren nodded, fully aware of how troublesome the situation had become. Thor's disappearance was the result of a botched Bifrost teleportation, an error scattered somewhere in the vastness of space.
Finding him would not be simple, and Soren had no intention of placing that blame on the Collector.
"I actually came for something else," Soren continued. "While tracking leads on Thor, I stumbled on news about another missing friend."
"Hulk. Apparently… he's become the new champion of the Sakaar arena."
The moment the word champion left Soren's mouth, the Collector's expression shifted sharply. Of all people, the Grandmaster?
He had warned him explicitly not to meddle with Soren's affairs. And yet the fool had snatched Soren's friend?
This was bad… very bad.
"Soren, I swear, I had no idea." the Collector blurted out, instinctively distancing himself from his brother's recklessness.
"I've been… preoccupied. Ever since I acquired the concentrated fantasy elixir, I've been focused on my research. I haven't followed outside events closely. If I had known the Grandmaster laid hands on someone connected to you, I would have intervened immediately!"
In truth, the Grandmaster hadn't known either.
Hulk had slipped through a spatial rift during a mission, falling straight into Sakaar's chaotic orbit.
His capture and forced participation in the arena were the result of pure chance… an unfortunate chain of events indirectly caused by Soren's battle with Mephisto.
"Collector, you misunderstand." Soren offered a smile.
"We're friends. I trust you. I only want to bring my friend home. There are others on Earth searching for him too."
Even though Soren hadn't assigned blame, the Collector still felt a cold knot of panic twist in his chest.
His brother's impulsiveness was about to drag him into disaster.
"Grandmaster is on Sakaar," He finally said. "I… can give you the coordinates." He shifting uneasily, clearly struggling with something unsaid.
Soren noticed. "Collector, speak freely."
The Collector drew a breath. "Soren, Grandmaster and I… we've been brothers of the Cosmic Elders for eons."
"Our bond is ancient. If circumstances allow… I hope you can show mercy."
"Once… for my sake."
Soren considered this, then nodded. "If he's reasonable, I won't push things too far."
"After all, he's your kin, and you've spoken on his behalf." His eyes hardened slightly. "But if he chooses to oppose me… then even your face won't be enough to shield him."
The Collector swallowed, offering a weak smile. "That's… fair."