Some of Dick's earliest memories was watching robot boxing, since he could remember he was always in awe of the way his parents would work on the robots, always dreaming of making it to the big leagues instead of inheriting the engineering workshops his parents hosted.

The day would come, but it didn't come without it's tragedies, his parents were dead and he was alone for a while, then a man named Bruce Wayne came and took him under his wing as both a ward and a novice. Dick wasn't unfamiliar with the name, Bruce Wayne was a living legend, the reigning World Robot Boxing champion.

Dick learned the ropes quickly, he was already familiar with the world of robot boxing; he learnt from his parents. The only difference now is that he had a shot in the limelight, not a behind the scenes engineer; but an actual player.

Dick wanted to be a world champion, he needed it, it was all he wanted. Bruce wouldn't let him, so he left.

Dick left, and he raked up enough money to buy a dingy old scrappy bot which he worked on day in and day out to patch it up until it was good enough for back alley fights. Then he saved enough money to buy a WRB worthy bot.

Somewhere along the road he found you, a charming engineer who took a certain interest in his bot after a particularly dingy black alley fight.

Eventually Dick left the spotlight for a few years before returning to the WRB with a new shiny bot named Nightwing, the decal across its chest a clear blue bird. It preferred agility and durability to direct strength.

Tonight was the final match, Nightwing against his adoptive father's bot— Batman.

The match dragged out and the stadium was filled to the rim by die hard WRB fans and the sickly rich, you stuck out like a sore thumb. Eventually Nightwing knocked out Batman, the crowd erupted into cheers and chanting, the ring got flooded with reporters and you weren't far behind.

"We did it!" Dick yelled, controller still in hand as he practically rushed towards you, boyish grin plastered on his face.