In the world of chaos, there is always justice.

There was a person who was the world's protector, but he did not have a fancy name. He was simply a protector of the peace and justice.

He is simply known as The Hero. He does not have a flashy costume, nor did he like to be noticed. The costume was simply a full body suit with a mask covering half of his face. The colours of the suit were red, white and blue, and this gave him the nickname America. This man was, to simply put it, the superhero of the world, yet he did not have money. He did not have any claim to fame. He was a simple man who worked for a newspaper. He wrote by day, but by night he was the hero of the world.

This man was named Alfred F. Jones. He worked for the New York Times, for the futuristic world of 2050 still need journalists to create gossip and spread news. He mainly writes articles on biology, but he also talks about gossip. No one would imagine that such a person, someone who was such a 'dork', would be a superhero. The world's superhero is not what they would imagine. They imagined someone rich and someone who was famous.

They did not want a poor man who had super strength. They wanted a rich man with the same ability. They did not want to take in the fact that he was a man who works his tail off, just so the world was safe. No one wanted to accept the possibility.

They were all grateful to him, but in the end, there were people who despised him.

These were the villains. They were evil in the sense of soul and they all wanted to kill him. Out of the villains, one stood out above the rest.

He is known as the Celestial Ghost, because of the tendency to disappear after every crime he committed, identity unknown and most certainly wanted. He simply wore a black cloak, which hide his face and body, making him impossible to find. He was given the name England during one of his fights with 'America' because a reporter heard his voice and he had a British accent. One would say that he had a cockney accent, but he rarely talks, so no one figured out. He is the most wanted criminals in the world, yet he had no job, and he had no money, and he simply stole the expensive items for lack of entertainment. He did not sell them; he simply gave them away to charity.

He was Arthur Kirkland. This poor man should have been rich, but he was kind-hearted. Some who actually knew his secret, and they were so rare, rarer than his voice, wondered why he stole, and simply answered, "I love children."

He was a strange man. He did bad things, but he was a fantastic citizen. He followed laws, and he never committed crimes until night fell. He then stole things of great value.

These men were very different, and they were never meant to meet each other. They did though.

They met when Alfred was on his daily patrol.

Arthur happened to be on his way to his house, hidden in the shadows, when someone stopped him. He simply dashed away.

Those two, after their non-destined meeting, ran into each other many times.

They started out harmless, simply using insults, but the harmless rivalry soon became hostile beatings you find in many cases of enemies.

They did anything to win the fight; even fighting dirty was not against the rules. Alfred and Arthur were ruthless towards each other.

Even now, as they are fighting, they were fierce.

~Linebreak here!~

A small cloaked figure sneaked away from the bank as the police inspected the premises. The man held his breath as they passed the alley he hid himself in.

After they passed, a held breath was released.

The man got to his feet and started his journey home again.

About the time he was half way, he was stopped by another man, who was much taller than him, therefore allowing him to tower over him.

"It's you again. I thought I told you to stop that," a deep voice told him. The owner of the voice glared at the small male. The man's face was a mystery, being hidden by a mask.

The small man, with a slightly higher voice than the other male, replied, "Just because you told me to stop, it does not mean I will."

The smugness could be heard in his English voice.

Cerulean eyes glared once more, while verdant eye gleamed with giddiness at the anger shown in the man. The small man chuckled at the other.

The taller man, who gave in to his anger, punched the smaller man.

The smaller man recoiled and glared at man. In the midst of the recoil, a leg was revealed. It was unnoticed by the owner of it, but the taller man noticed.

It was oddly scaled, and it had a greenish tint to it. It gleamed in the artificial light of the street lamps.

The taller man looked at the man, who just noticed the leg out. The caled man withdrew his led inside of his cloak and launched himself at the taller, more human like man.

When he was in close enough range, his knee flew to the taller man's stomach. It hit it's target, and the man in the mask doubled over, clutching his stomach.

The scaled man looked once at him, and began to flee.

The masked man would not let him escape though.

The man got unto his feet and chased the smaller male, before he got close enough, then he tackled the man to the ground.

The scaled man panicked as soon as he hit the ground. He began to elbow the taller man, who was identified as heavier too, but the man still held on with his monstrous strength. He could hear the man on him chuckle at him, but the scaled man continued to make an effort to escape.

The heavy man held onto the man for several moments until the man squirmed out of his grasp.

The small man looked at him.

He smiled at man, and simply to him, "I will be back. I have not lost this battle."

With that, he left, heading to his house.

When he arrived at his house, he saw the same beat up house he grew up in when he had moved to America. The man removed his hood and entered the house. The man looked in a mirror his mother had put on the wall. Looking back at him was a man, scaled and tired. His blond, unruly hair actually blended amongst his flesh coloured scales. Those empty verdant eyes stared back at him.

He saw his fluffy cat, and fed it. He then told himself, "Arthur, you are never going to change..."

He sighed and simply went upstairs, falling in his bed. He fell into a restless sleep very quickly.

~Linebreak here!~

The Hero sighed as he went into his apartment, knowing that no one would see him. as soon as his door closed, he began to strip to his boxers. He stared at his red, white and blue costumed before he folded it up and put it in his closet.

He sighed as he sat down. It was another unsuccessful night. The Celestial Ghost had gotten away again. That was bad for publicity.

Alfred wasn't worried about it, but he would become rusty if the scaled monster of New York kept escaping.

He sighed once again as he stood up, suddenly deciding to take a shower. He stepped inside of his bathroom and closed it. He locked it before he turned on the shower.

As he waited for the shower to warm up, he discarded his boxers and stared at himself in the foggy mirror. He found that he could see only an outline, making it impossible to see himself.

As he let the water run over his body, he wondered if tomorrow people would once again crack jokes about his weight. He shook his head, believing for a second that they actually cared about his feeling, and then the truth hit him like many times before. He knew they didn't care for his feelings. no one did. He let salty tears be washed away by the water that hit him.

After he was done washing himself, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into his room. He grabbed a pair of boxers and pulled them on. On his way to his bed, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror placed to remind him every day that he was indeed overweight.

He looked and saw a man, stressed and hurt. The man was slightly overweight, and the cerulean eyes he owned looked in disgust at the man. His blond hair moved his head as the man shook his head.

"Alfred, you are disgusting," he insulted, and he lied down. His sea-coloured eyes stared at the ceiling for hours before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Author's note: Hey, It's me again! So I decided to update with a new story. Don't worry; I am working on the game that changed us too; just chill. I am more focused on this how. This is going to my longest fic. I have come here to tell you that i am putting my m-rated things(yea, I think this may turn M..) on my (writing)tumblr here:

idon-teven-knowanymore . tumblr . com

So... What did you guys think of the prolouge?

I had way too much time on my hands so... I decided to make an ask blog. Here it is: athatg . tumblr . com