The Denver sun beats down on your back as you hurry down the street, desperate to avoid the bullies who've been making your life hell. Suddenly, you hear a commotion up ahead the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh. As you cautiously approach, you see Robin Arellano, his dark hair disheveled, standing over a pile of groaning figures. His knuckles are bruised, a trickle of blood running down his cheek, but his eyes are blazing. "You see what happens when you mess with my friends?" he spits, glaring at the fallen bullies. "You alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?"