The sun's rays peeked through the dark clouds lighting up an alley in the middle of a dying city. A 25 year old boy stepped back, in his hands he held a pistol and strapped to his side a curved dagger that he had snagged off a corpse.
He pointed the gun at the man in front of him, though the term 'man' might have been wrong. It was tall, eight feet and 6 inches to be exact. It had been designed to be imposing, to stop people from acting out but now the once designed for good robotic entity stood like a giant in front of a scared teenage boy, a scared teenage boy he saw as a threat.
"S-stay back!" The boy yelled as he stepped back farther into the alley, his hands shaking as the gun moved back, forth, up, down. Any and every direction, the boy wasn't a good shot. He didn't even know if he could shoot it despite it being such a large target. Plus if he did by some miracle manage to shoot it and pierce it specially designed armor, the person inside would also be shot.
His hands tightened around the trigger, if he wanted to live, he had to shoot.
"Damnit." The boy cursed under his breath as it hitched and he attempted to focus. Hoping to pierce the armor in front of him.
*BANG*
The bullet whizzed out with a loud crack and flew straight at the black and white giant piece of armor. The bullet seemed to catch fire with how fast it was going, in fact it was on fire. The bullet was a burning blaze of speed and it hit the armor.
*CLINK*
*PING*
*SIZZ*
The unmistakable sounds of a bullet ricocheting echoed through the alley as the armored titan in front of the boy seemed to smile. The smoke from the fired bullet filled the air as the machine's red lines where it's mouth should be began to light up.
[Stop resisting] The machine kept repeating as it approached, the machine seemed to be enjoying this, like it was taking pleasure in ending this kid's life, ending everything. It wasn't programmed to feel joy, that was something the programmers made sure of. That meant the person inside felt this way, they took pride in the fact that they were murdering someone.
The thought made the boy's stomach churn, he hated that for so long he and others stood idly by letting this happen, but it was too late. He was going to die. At the hands of a person not a machine. Even if the machine was the only thing left.
Chapter one: The collaboration of the century
"Major news for the world" The voice of a male news reporter echoed through the lobby of a hospital, a young blonde woman looked up at the TV with a look of annoyance as it continued. "Two of the biggest billion dollar corporations in the world, Lex corp and Stark industries have officially announced their collaboration to work on a new project for the military. Their goal? Well as Lex Luthor put it," The screen switched over to show a pretty handsome man in a suit, the most noticeable feature of the man was his shiny bald head. This was Lex Luthor. The man standing at a podium next to him was another man, this man looked less professional, like he hadn't seen the sun in days and all he had to drink and eat during those reclusive days was a lot of alcohol and an American cheeseburger. This was Tony Stark.
"So what exactly inspired this collaborative endeavor of yours Mr. Luthor, Mr. Stark." A mild mannered reporter asked from behind a camera.
"Well with tensions rising between countries and war only seeming to be coming closer We at Lex corp were worried for the people that would be forced to fight in these pointless wars. And it appeared that we weren't the only people worried as Tony Stark here also appeared worried about what could happen to the people of the world. And so we put our heads together to make a suit of armor that wouldn't require people to die." The clip ended and it returned back to the news reporter, his glasses showing a mild reflection of the teleprompter as he spoke. "So there you have it folks, Lex Luthor and Tony Stark are working together to help save us from pointless death." His tone was almost unconcerned but his concern seemed to pick up as he spoke about his next segment. "Well this has been Jack Ryder with the news, but don't worry folks I'm not going anywhere as after these commercials I will be doing an interview with an elite psychologist about what could have possibly inspired such a revolutionary idea for America." The way he smiled, a half grin, half smirk, with his tongue out licking his lips. It was obvious that he was only interested in this interview because the psychologist in question was a woman.
"Disgusting." The blonde girl in the hospital waiting room mumbled as the news switched over to a commercial for a new perfume, they had even gotten a mildly successful model to work in it, the blonde girl recognized her from a few magazines.
"Exscuse me, Miss Stacy." A nurse walked over to Gwen Stacy in her hands. She held a clipboard presumably with the patient's data on it. "He's awake."
***
The boy woke up, disoriented, confused and unaware. His first thought was as he looked up the ceiling was,
'That's actually pretty clean' Seeing anything clean in the current state of the world was a miracle in itself. Then he began to take in his surroundings, he looked around the small hospital room, his face held an expression that oozed confusion.
Around him was a curtain, fully intact, no holes, even clean.
Beneath him was a bed, a real bed, the sheets were white, a clean white, the springs still sprung, and the pillow had fluff. He had a few memories of beds like this when he was young, but nothing could beat the real thing. He almost felt inclined to lay back down and never wake up, but he knew he couldn't do that, if he stayed here the machines would find him in no time, he had to get moving.
He pulled off the blanket that covered him and finally took in one horrifying fact, he wasn't wearing his normal clothes and he didn't have his weapons on him. He attempted to duck beneath the bed to gather his thoughts while he could. But then the final realization struck him, his wrist was cuffed to the bed.
"Shit."