1 Chapter 1

Okie, Hiya guys. Updates on this will be slower then me breaking a horse. (I am still working on my mustang lol). I am currently writing this as I upload it so I'll edit before every update and get on a specific schedule, hopefully. I like to stay 7-8 chapters a head and I'm famous for LOTS of chapters. So bear with me!!! Love you guys.

Meet Derek Adler A.K.A. The Iron Chaos and 'his nemesis'.

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The night was dark, but the city across the water was on fire. The moon didn't appear between the low clouds, as if it served a warning to those that survived the events of the night. Sirens wailed in the distance of Iron Stanton, a once beautiful city. Beneath the high rises and the skyscrapers, crime ran amok. Robbers, rapists, and kidnappers all bound into one neat little package. The city had been dying when Derek Adler had been born. He was a part of the wealthy one percenters and his world had been filled with nothing but corruption and darkness. He was unable to do anything as he watched his own father use people and execute them in similar fashion. It wasn't long before he'd gained the knack to kill. Like father, like son. It started out as petty thugs and easy pickings. He was a hero in everyone's eyes, gaining the nickname of the Iron Chaos. A name he didn't prefer. While his name was hailed on the streets and spoken in the dark, Derek Adler was stepping closer and closer to the things he abhorred. He enjoyed killing. He enjoyed watching them squirm and plead for their miserable, maggoty lives. He was ruthless and he continued to go up the ladder. He started to move onto bigger fish, the crime bosses and local mobs. He disrupted anyone he could get his hands on physically and cyberly. Derek Adler was unstoppable.

Derek Adler was doing amazing for years. Psychologists were fascinated with the man behind the mask, strategizing who he was in person. Psychopath or citizen, they narrowed it down to someone who was born and raised in the slums. How wrong could they be? However, on the night of his 25th birthday, something changed. A new hero showed up, one who didn't kill. Within four months the crime rates were down and criminals were being reintroduced to society as better people. Derek had been the Iron chaos for years, years until the new hero came out. He was even more mysterious than Derek. A man clad in the grey of the night with a face mask that covered every bit of his small face. And the man was eccentric, he unraveled every belief in the Iron Chaos. Without killing, he became the face of the world. So Derek Adler went after the man. He was Derek's nemesis. Always a step ahead, ingenious and different. He was fascinating in a world of fakes. Derek Adler was enthused. He vowed to bring down the Iron Angel. How things had gotten twisted since.

But then, a new villain showed up and set the city on fire. The new villain burned hotter than the known sun. He torched everything he touched. Derek Adler stared across the water from his safe house with a sinking feeling in his gut. The night was misty, feeble hints at rain to come. But the fires burned brighter and brighter, whole skyscrapers collapsing inwards. Among that mess was the Stanton Angel. The fires had been waging for days, unable to be stopped. The Iron Angel had yet to be found.

They couldn't find the Stanton Angel because the man was lying on the rocks directly in front of his safe house. Derek Adler's safe house was nestled between the trees on a rocky outcrop overlooking Iron Stanton. The rocks' height increased the closer they got to the small, depleted house. The wood was worn away and propped up by stone and boards. The windows were all boarded over and it stank of rot and must. Beneath the creaking floors, though, was Derek Adler's base. His base wasn't the concern. Because, as he stood out from the dirt road leading up to his tiny base, he recognized the figure lying on the rocks. Blood pooled around him almost like the halo the city had placed over his tiny head. His uniform, the skin tight grey suit that was said to hold the constellations of the sky in blue, was in shreds. He was unconscious, mask missing from his head. Chocolate brown hair was matted to his skull with blood, and more blood streamed from his lips. Derek Adler rushed out to the man the second he noticed. His chest ached sharply and a deep, primitive rage filled his being like red hot lava. He pulled his black trench coat down from his shoulders and wad it up in his hands. He stepped down in between the rocks and draped it over the man's broken body. The boy's pulse was weak and erratic with each breath he took. Blood pooled beneath him, coating the rock with its dark color. Derek's fingers shook as he pulled open the rips of the boy's clothing. The lacerations he saw weren't just from accidental objects, the angel had been tortured. Derek looked out across the water briefly, fixating his eyes on the collapsing skyscrapers.

A hand wrapped around his ankle and held tight. "D-Derek."

"Hey," he whispered with a faint smile. He knelt down beside the boy to push the bloodied locks out of his face. "You still with me?"

"Heh," the boy chuckled before his eyes closed once more.

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Derek would surely, without a doubt, kill anyone who was involved with this. He glanced out towards the burning buildings across the water and grit his teeth. He flicked them back to the boy before wrapping the boy up tight into a small bundle. The Stanton Angel gasped in pain as Derek Adler scooped him up into his arms. The angel reeked of stale blood and vile as Derek carried him up towards the safe house. Rain started to sprinkle down his shoulders, plastering Derek Adler's black hair to his forehead. He leaned against the door and pushed it open. On the far back wall, he leaned down to be eye level to a singular red book amongst a group of black and blue. A green light lit up and the bookshelf slid to the right opening up a long corridor.

His safe house wasn't much. A room to run his operation in, a room to crash when it was too late to head back to the mansion or to heal up, a full bathroom, and a small kitchen. Each room was separated by a long, concrete corridor that eventually opened into one large room at the furthest back. The far room had floors that were made of cold iron and the ceiling was high, rigged with different contraptions. A salmon ladder, a treadmill, heavy weights, the finest of what money could buy. He laid the unconscious man onto the cold table that he'd had installed a long time ago after a nearly fatal injury.

"Sir, you called?" A man asked, knocking on the door. He peeked his head in and met Derek Adler's eyes. Only one other man on the planet knew who the Iron Chaos was, and it was the doctor that had been with him his whole life. Leonard was loyal, and he was quiet. If he paid the man enough, Leonard could be tortured and his mouth would stay shut. His loyalty was bought from the insurance of a very good, very cushy life for his two daughters.

"I need him alive," Derek Adler stated, stepping away from the Stanton Angel. He looked over to his doctor. "But he's dying. His heart is fading."

Suddenly, the boy on the table started to thrash against the cold metal. Leonard rushed over. "Help me turn him on his side!"

Foam started to dribble out of the boy's mouth in vast quantities. They pushed the boy onto his side where the doctor held him. "Is he epileptic?"

Derek Adler shook his head. "Not that I know!"

Leonard pulled out a flashlight and pulled open the man's eye lids. He shined the light into the boy's eyes as the seizure started to subside only to pause. "Is he blind?"

"Blind? No. He's always...he's not blind," Derek Adler defended.

"The seizures won't stop until he's healed, and he's in mortal danger. He's possibly suffering from subdural hematoma, by extension it's affected his eyes. Traumatic Optic Neuropathy. Beyond that Optic atrophy. He will be blind, permanently. If he survives. Derek, he could be having a brain hemorrhage. Just by looking at him, someone was out to kill him."

The seriousness settled in deep. He looked down at the boy who's beautiful multicolored eyes were squeezed shut. Another seizure ravaged its way through the boy's body. He grabbed the boy's hand and squeezed it in his own. "You have what you need here, right? Save his fucking life."

Leonard nodded before rolling over a cart. "I'm going to need your help. We have to release pressure on his brain."

* * *

Five hours later, Derek Adler stumbled into one of the chairs pushed up close to the wall. His pristine white t-shirt that cost almost $300 was stained in deep red. Derek Adler's hands were stained just as red as the linoleum on the floor. He held a towel in his hands shakily, dabbing at the blood spray all over his high cheekbones and hair. Derek felt sick, he felt like he was on fire. His fingers tapped against the edge of his chair repeatedly to a tune that Derek didn't know. The more he stared at the boy's still form, the faster they tapped. Creeping up his neck, a bloodlust lurked.

Leonard leaned over the boy on the table, checking his pulse once more. He sighed before putting the portable defibrillator back onto its shelf. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor threatened to put Derek to sleep. The boy almost didn't make it through the surgery. At one point, Derek had to straddle the boy and keep his heart pumping through CPR. He could still feel the clammy skin against his own. He swore he could hear the chaotic beats of his heart over the rhythmic beats on the monitor. His eyes were trained on the screen, watching every jump of the line. He counted them, and he memorized them. He glanced over to the tube taped to the boy's mouth and let out a breath of relief when the boy took another breath on his own.

"Will he wake up?"

"Someday in the future if he's lucky. Induce a coma, but...I don't know if he'll wake up again. He has multiple lacerations, broken ribs, a broken arm. He was the epitome of death. Who is he?"

"He's my nemesis."

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