The Perfect Run

Six.

Ryan counted six future victims in the atrium as he opened fire, Sarin included. Some took cover, while others immediately charged at him. All were Psychos, and soon, they would be dead.

One was a featureless woman made of black ink, with a rather sexy silhouette. Bullets phased through her easily, although the attack’s savagery had briefly stunned her. Another was a deathly pale guy without any hair, wearing only black pants; while looking sickly, he had the muscles of an Olympic swimmer. Unlike his fellows, he didn’t take cover, instead dodging the bullets with supernatural reflexes. The fourth Psycho in the room was a humanoid in a suit without any facial features, not even ears or eyes, and the fifth a humanoid jaguar hybrid. Unlike his kindred, that furry took a few bullets to the chest but survived them.

As for the tentacled Psycho behind the bar...

No, not tentacled. On a closer look, what Ryan mistook for tentacles turned out to be translucent arms of crimson energy. The courier counted dozens of them, lifting a disembodied woman’s head with Asian features and long black hair above the ground.

Her name was probably Fuckface or something.

“Miss Chernobyl, I once told you that no matter what, I wouldn’t take you seriously,” Ryan said, shooting Sarin again before she could recover and blowing more holes in her suit. Due to her overwhelming offensive power, he had to take her out first. “Guess what! I still don’t!”

“Sarin, who the hell is this guy?” the ink woman asked, her body turning from black to crimson while she charged at Ryan. It briefly reminded the courier of Bloodstream, much to his displeasure. “Your ex?”

“I don’t know alright!” Sarin protested while crawling on the ground towards the closest door, toxic fumes flowing out of the holes Ryan shot in her suit. The gas ate away at the metal walls of the bunker, rusting them. “I’m leaking!”

“You can turn to ink and change your color?” Ryan asked the ink woman. “What’s your name, Inky Winky?”

“Ink Machine,” the woman replied with a hint of wounded pride, turning her hands into axes and attempting to behead the courier with them.

“I guess you weren’t good enough to call yourself Murder Machine,” Ryan taunted her, stopping time for three seconds to sidestep out of her way. Considering her power, his bullets wouldn’t do anything to her, so he decided to focus on the others first. Surprise wouldn’t last forever.

“A teleporter!” someone screamed as time resumed.

“Incognito, go down and call Frank! We’ll make that faggot sleep in the dirt!” Fuckface opened her mouth and spat a stream of fire at Ryan. The courier dodged, the attack hitting a wall and starting an isolated bonfire.

“It’s an enclosed space, you stupid whore!” Pale Guy snarled, grabbing numbered pool balls and tossing them at Ryan with deadly accuracy. The Meta may work together, but clearly, they had no teamwork nor respect for one another.

Stopping time for five seconds yet again to avoid the projectiles, Ryan took the opportunity to stomp on Sarin and then cut off her retreat. Seeing the faceless man in a suit, ‘Incognito,’ run towards the elevator, the courier shot him from behind with skill honed over countless restarts right as time unfroze. Four bullets, two from the coil gun, hit his skull and chest from behind, the corpse collapsing to the ground.

Critical hit!

However, the courier ran out of projectiles for his guns, forcing him to toss them aside. Fuckface snarled and flew in his direction, her telekinetic crimson arms lunging for his neck while Inky Winky flanked him.

Ryan opened his trench coat, revealing the explosive belt around his chest.

And not the kid-friendly kind most madmen used. The adult-only stuff.

“NAGASAKI!” he shouted, rushing at the flying head like a bull towards a cow in heat.

Fuckface immediately stopped her attack and backed off in fear, leaving her open for attack. Ryan gave her the full Fisty facial experience. The gauntlet sent her crash against a wall, the crimson arms popping out of existence along with her consciousness.

“Just kidding!” Ryan taunted her. “I have to say the safe word first.”

But he was having so much fun! It was way too soon to end it with a blast!

“It’s not teleportation,” Pale Guy said, throwing more pool balls at Ryan’s head with incredible skill. Even with his enhanced sense of timing, the courier needed short bursts of time-stop to avoid headshots. Neither did Inky Winkey make his life easy, harassing him with her ax-hands. “He’s messing with our perception, paralyzing us! My power can’t see him clearly!”

“A Blue then,” Inky Winky replied, turning her head at the jaguar man. “Rakshasa, don’t just stand there and call reinforcements!”

The beast-man let out a mighty roar, having somewhat recovered from his bullet wounds. As he did so, tiny furry creatures appeared around him in a flash of violet light. They appeared to be cute gremlin monsters, with long hair, sharp teeth, and adorable eyes.

Aww, time to commit goblin genocide.

Ryan looked under his coat to grab a new gun and shoot them all, but Pale Guy managed to hit his hand with a pool ball, sending the weapon flying into a corner of the room. Inky Winky then attempted to behead the chronokinetic with her ax-arm, and while she missed, she sliced some of his hair. To make matters worse, the gremlins charged at Ryan like a pack of rabid rats, and their master kept summoning more.

Argh, the Psychos had recovered from the surprise and were taking back control of the fight. Since they outnumbered Ryan in an enclosed space with reinforcements on their way, he had to settle this quickly.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You want a furry contest?” Ryan asked, drawing out his secret weapon from his trench coat. “I know I should say it isn’t personal, but guess what?”

flipped the plushie’s

“It is.”

he tossed the terror amidst

the first view of the plushie. The plushie looked up at her with its tiny blue eyes, the very

Ink Machine didn’t understand.

torso and blew two holes

its blue eyes now crimson red. The toy turned toward the gremlins and vaporized them with a look while they rushed at

you so

Psycho. Knives appeared from its

Disneyland!” it said while burying itself inside Rakshasa’s chest, the jaguar wriggling in

from this world. They spoke in hushes, making death threats in an alien tongue he could barely

would only

rabbit making its way into his teammate’s stomach. “It’s not a rabbit… I can see…

sensory power. “No, don’t look at it with your ability,” Ryan warned him, “it’s

listen,

confronted a truth so horrific, that the Psycho’s remaining sanity could only break. He immediately grabbed a pool stick and charged

it first,” Ryan taunted him, barely dodging a strike aiming for the carotid artery. He couldn’t find

imprint on the first preteen it found as its best friend, but, well... that would solve the problem by causing a new, even more

the tip. The killer let out a scream when

bottle. Unless he could flip off

react, put the organ garrote around his neck,

red. It looked so happy and peaceful strangling Pale Guy. “I’m

Ryan didn’t

It just loved killing.

except gas instead of blood. Without waiting for reinforcements to arrive or the plushie to turn its deadly attention towards him, Ryan moved towards the elevator, called

plushie choked him to death with a blissful expression. “Why?” he managed to

Pale Guy

went down multiple floors, making Ryan wonder how far the bunker went… and

its destination and opened

in his seventies, with wrinkled skin, unkempt hair, and a white beard. One could have mistaken him for a Gandalf or Dumbledore

assault drones. Ryan recognized the designs as Mechron’s, many of these machines having massacred entire communities during the Genome Wars. In some spots, the

remove the bodies of their own. They probably harvested them for the Elixirs within

there?” Ryan shouted, but received no answer. Once confident no one would ambush him, he examined the room, finding a map of the complex in front

upper floor which he had just left

Facility. Army Storage A, B, and C. Robot Maintenance Center. Armory. Munitions Depot. Weapon

a survival

a weapon

One of Mechron’s facilities.

a mess behind. If so many robots defended the less important areas, then there must have been a whole

as

defenses, all to access the command center. If they took control of Mechron’s robots and whatever weapons the Genius had left, they would be able to take over New Rome, or at least contest it

possible in the time

clearly been left to rust for years, the white walls having lost their color, though Ryan noticed crates of medical supplies piled in a corner. Two people, one man,

tentacle shoved through the druggie’s mouth. The

Ryan stepped inside the infirmary. “Little Cesare.” If he was afraid or surprised,

Ryan cut him off

“What?”

choice

a shower of brain matter and other fluids, his wires thrashing around. The

move to remove the bindings,

shaking in place, something wriggling below the skin. The skull shifted in

drug withdrawal

and nearly smashed his skull. The courier

of wires stood over the drug

father to thank for

shock, as he faced a reborn

during our last encounter and showed me his true power, I wondered… What if I had misunderstood my ability’s limits? Could it

using a brief burst of time stop to leap towards a corner

while continuing his assault, tossing the operation table at the courier. Ryan lowered himself to dodge the projectile as it hit the wall