Ryker Wallace, #17 of the Harvard men's lacrosse team, is always up for a fight, be it on the field or off. The muscled, tattooed attackman has more penalty minutes per game than any other player in the whole Ivy League. He also scores more than anyone, in the game or otherwise, save perhaps his teammate and buddy Noah Riley, #33.

Even as Ryker helps the Crimson Crew establish an illustrious winning streak, his brutal anger disguised as insatiable hunger begins to tear him apart at the seams from the inside out. Manifesting itself in insidious ways, he becomes a borderline alcoholic with barely passing grades and a detachment disorder with a dash of God complex. What no one knows is that Ryker comes by these attributes justly, and painfully so. It's his very birthright.

Programmed by harsh hands, he's been hardcoded with a particular algorithm born of fire and brimstone that burns within his veins. Its code is that of discipline and despair added to severity and scarcity. Can Ryker learn to evolve and adapt, to recode the initial instructions laid into his very foundation before he implodes? Or is his ultimate output inevitably that of self-destruction?