Billions of years before...
The rivers ran deep throughout the Realm Of Darkness, flooding those who fell into it with the very darkness that embodied life itself. The embodiment of anarchy stood upon the shore of one of these rivers, exhausted, flooding tons of chaotic energy into the river.. It was enveloping an infant who was (well alive) floating right above the waters of the rivers...
And that infant began to transform, his face turning red. Chrome. Chaos Tyrus had been born.
As it would turn out, he'd been a failure. He was not the perfect successor which anarchy had hoped for. He couldn't control anarchy or chaos or mayhem in the least bit. He was not fit to be the one who would one day rise to king of the embodiments. No. This boy was nothing.
