Titans: Rise of Talon

Heat of the Moment

"The guy put a dent in my arm! I think he can take care of himself. I was just offering, so he wouldn't have to."

"Aw, man. I messed up real bad, didn't I?" Beast Boy asked with his ears folded. Cyborg's eyes narrowed down at him.

"Yeah. Ya did. Now, come on before he accidentally decapitates someone."

"You don't think he'd actually do that? Do you?"

"The dude was running on pure autopilot when he woke up. With that kind of force, imagine what would happen if somebody surprised him. Whether he admits it or not, Robin needs us to watch out for him just as much as he does for us."

........

   Robin grumbled to himself as he more or less stomped back towards the Tower, his footsteps still eerily silent. He remained in the shadows of the city, which were growing longer by the minute. He still couldn't believe Beast Boy of all people was treating him like a helpless child, and the anger inside him grew hotter with every step he took.

"Hey! Get away from us!" someone yelled. Robin's attention peaked, and he melded deeper into the shadows as he approached a dead end alley.

There was a ring of men pushing two kids into a corner. The boy was maybe ten, at most, and he shielded a much younger girl behind him. Robin's eyes narrowed as he watched.

How many? Six? Maybe seven? Good, he thought darkly, I need something to hit.

Robin extended his bo staff and swung it in a deadly arc before leaping into the ring. He stood in an offensive stance between the kids and the men, teeth bared in a furious snarl.

"Hey! It's Robin! Awesome!" the boy behind him gawked.

"You picked the wrong day to cause trouble," Robin told the attackers, not sparing a glance behind him, "I'm giving you to the count of three to surrender."

The men looked between themselves in confusion and then busted out laughing. Robin, on the other hand, was dead serious.

"I don't know if you knew this, boy blunder, but there's only one o' you and seven o' us."

So it is seven. More targets. "One."

One man brandished a pocket knife, and another pulled out a crowbar. Two others pulled out guns. The other three raised their fists in sloppy fighting stances.

"Two."

One of the weaponless ones started to sweat. Robin could almost smell the anxiety and fear rising in the air. They knew he wasn't one to mess with, but were they dumb enough to try anyway? Robin smirked as his adrenaline rose. Time to find out.

"Three."

  Time slowed down as Robin charged forward, his body a blur of precise attacks and lethal onslaughts. He easily disabled the gunmen first before knocking out the knife wielder. One of them broke out into a run, almost making it into the streetlight before Robin's grappling hook caught his ankle and dragged him flailing and screaming back into the darkness.

He swung his bo staff, and it connected harshly with a man's skull—a sickening thwack! echoing in the alleyway.

One man retrieved his gun and fired. Robin's instincts jerked into motion, hand retrieving a bird-a-rang and lifting it up so the blade side was facing the bullet's path. Time seemed to slow down to a null as he watched the projectile make contact with the sharpened edge of his weapon, splicing the bullet in two. The separate halves rocketed into the brick on either side of his head, and time resumed as he kicked the man's arm upward and moved in to disable the gun.