The Perfect Run

“This is the Berlin Wall,” Ryan said, as he stood between his troops and a blast door, “the last frontier between western civilization, and complete annihilation.”

He glanced at his minions, all ready to die for their country, and because they had little choice. Sarin kept her arms crossed, carrying herself with dignity in this dark hour. Darkling lurked in a corner, still sore about its nickname. Alchemo grunted, eager to see the mission done. The rest of the cannon fodder, Gemini, the Reptilian, and Ink Machine waited anxiously; knowing that as red shirts, their odds of survival were slim.

The Land, Mosquito, and a few others remained above ground to protect the Junkyard. Rakshasa had the critical task of appeasing their ever-numerous rabbit overlords, before their numbers reached critical mass; a doomed task, unfortunately. As for Incognito, Ryan had sent him to Dynamis, to lay the groundwork for the run’s final operation.

The last member of the crack team soon showed up, holding a black briefcase. “It’s here, Mr. President,” Frank declared, as he presented the holy item to his dark master. “The Nuclear Football. It came with the mail.”

Ryan held his breath, as he touched the soft leather with anticipation. He had been careful to order it through a complex route, so the sender wouldn’t learn her client’s identity, but his efforts had paid off. At long last, the courier’s diabolical plan had reached fruition.

“What’s that, Boss?” Sarin asked, a bit confused. “A secret weapon?”

“The only one that matters.”

Ryan stopped time, and when it resumed, his clothes had fallen on the floor except for the boxers. His display of manliness was welcomed with surprise and shock. “Oh my…” Ink Machine said, a bit surprised.

“Not again, you exhibitionist!” Alchemo complained. “If you lead us to battle naked, I’m taking the door!”

“Eh,” Sarin said, as she glanced at Ryan’s boxers. “I’ve seen bigger weapons of mass destruction.”

The president ignored the masses, as he slowly opened the briefcase and gazed upon the dark power within.

Wardrobe’s presidential costume.

Unlike his previous clothes, it was pure black and red; this time, there would be no more playing around. This suit was unlike anything Ryan’s foes had faced before: unrelenting, merciless, uncompromising.

Ryan slowly and silently put it on before his troops, to establish his stylish dominance over them.

The dark pants first, because it was cold in the bunker. They fit his body curves perfectly, and oozed villainous sex appeal.

Then he put on the black leather boots, to stomp protesters’ faces. With skull-themed socks.

A cashmere red shirt and black suit, Karl Lagerfeld style. Because when you embraced the dark side, you dressed German.

A strong and powerful necktie, to represent his authoritarian, unflinching leadership.

Velvet gloves, to choke his minions when they talked back.

A black jacket, that would flow with the wind when he looked threatening atop rooftops.

A red and silver mask covered most of his head, except for the eyes, so that his evil gaze may terrify children.

And finally, a savage bowler hat, to show he meant business.

No light. No hope. Only one word.

“Perfect,” Ryan said, deepening his voice to sound more intimidating.

His men remained too intimidated to say anything, except for the idiot of the group. “I don’t find it anything special,” the Reptilian said. “And I think it’s a bit too edg—”

In response, Ryan choked him with one hand.

It had taken him years to master this move, but the sudden lack of air and blood brought the Reptilian to his knees. The mook attempted to grab the president’s arm with his hands, but the lawful authority only strengthened his grip around his victim’s throat.

“I find your lack of taste disturbing,” Ryan said, his tone promising only death.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” the Reptilian managed to sputter, his reptilian face turning purple.

“I’m sorry who, handbag?”

“I’m sorry… Mr. President…”

Ryan released the protester, and let him gasp for breath. He glanced at the other Psychos, who all straightened up. Frank carefully grabbed the president’s old clothes and put them in the briefcase.

“Alright then, mooks, listen up,” Ryan addressed his troops, as he put his trusty coil gun around his belt, and the Fisty Brothers on top of his velvet gloves. “Our goal is to reach the base’s mainframe thanks to a shortcut, and allow our brain-dead friend to hook up with it.”

“I’m not—”

“Are you questioning my authority?” Ryan asked Alchemo. “Because I respect freedom of speech.”

The Genius glanced at the Reptilian, who had barely recovered from the choking. “Two years,” Alchemo said, “and it’s still the same nonsense.”

“I love democracy.” Ryan promptly continued with his explanations. “Your job is to make sure he reaches his destination. Frank and Darkling will force a path forward, and we’ll follow suit.”

The steel giant immediately made a salute, having put the briefcase aside. “Yes, Mr. President.”

No answer from his back-up though.

“Darkling? Darkling?” Ryan glanced at his favorite ball of black goo. “Darkling, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

“... my name not Darkling...” the slime answered unconvincingly, its countless eyes looking away.

“Then what is it?” the president asked smugly.

“... not Darkling.”

Alright, Not-Darkling it was.

speech, but let’s be honest, a Psycho’s life is nasty, brutish, and

lying if he didn’t feel a little anxious about this operation. Many of the circumstances that made it possible wouldn’t repeat, from Psyshock going to the past, Sarin acting as a

started looping, this run would be a

lost most of his men reaching the mainframe, after all,

hadn’t gotten this far without taking risks, and Len

president stepped aside and raised his coil gun, “Sarin, be

I’ll show you a vibrator...” His second-in-command raised her hands, and blasted the steel door

with a hail of

On the other side of the broken door, the courier glimpsed a

shouted as time resumed, before bull-rushing the robot squadron. The giant crushed anything in his path, his body

the group followed. Ryan and Alchemo remained at their formation’s center, with the Psychos

All hell broke loose.

step before he had to dodge a bullet, as the walls opened to reveal twin miniguns on each side. A volley hit Ink Machine by surprise, but her liquid body caused the

of the group, Ryan froze time and shot both weapons with his coil gun. Thankfully, the projectiles were powerful enough to perforate the turrets, blowing large holes

can approaching her too closely. Ink Machine leaped around the room and used her liquid form to seep

Meta-Gang, Gemini, also pulled her weight. While appearing like an ethereal woman of shining light at first glance, Ryan had realized the truth upon closer examination: her tentacled shadow was the real her, and the

luminosity. Two robots moved their pitch-black shadows in such a way, that they

It had only taken the machines a few minutes to guess the nature of her power and figure out a counter. They

way they moved, avoiding friendly fire, and coordinating almost perfectly… they weren’t individual units, but

as a key target; perhaps because Ryan and

to protecting the

focused on Ryan. Five robots unleashed a volley of lasers in his direction, and a sixth attempted to

the leader until I opened my mouth?” Ryan taunted them while he activated his power. He leaped out of the lasers’ way in the frozen time, before smashing the sixth robot’s chest

Ryan angrily retaliated by shooting down

a large dome, with the ceiling layered with holographic projections

holes opened all over the dome. Eye-shaped drones flew through, and opened

blinding light. Blast doors on the walls opened and more cyclopean androids walked through, an unrelenting tide of

lasers easily

eventually resorted to stopping time, both to push his second-in-command out of a bullet’s path and to

time with greater numbers. Eight robots grabbed the Psycho’s shadow from all

laser beams. The liquid

the Reptilian had only avoided death so far

Ryan pointed at his left once he had a brief respite, near a junction between the dome’s

calling me that!” Sarin complained, but obeyed all the same. Her gauntlets vibrated, and she started targeting the

but Darkling formed a defensive wall around her, Alchemo, Ryan, and the Reptilian. Only Frank was left out, but

path to the

general mode, barked orders. “Reptilian, with us!” he ordered, while Sarin leaped

him like a potato sack before jumping into the void. Frank and Darkling moved to cover the hole behind them, snatching any eye-drone attempting to follow through. The two titans remained

and his allies landed in a strange, ghastly gallery of vats and glass containers. Each of them contained half-formed humanoid bodies, some with their organs floating in colored liquid; while they had human features, the creatures’ limbs were unnaturally long, and part of their faces

A Genome research lab.

what Ryan guessed to be Elixirs. The Reptilian, in particular, could barely restrain himself

are we going next?” Sarin asked, pointing at two blast doors. “Left

point in the gallery’s right steel wall, right behind a green

at an accelerated rate while Ryan raised his eyes at the hole above his head. Thankfully, Darkling had wisely sealed the hole with

The Reptilian shouted, his hands on the ground. Apparently, his enhanced senses allowed him to notice slight vibrations. “I

be a dungeon raid without a boss at the end. “Braindead, behind me,” Ryan said,

rather avoid that, Mr. President,” the

choking motion, and the mook rediscovered his

seconds later, and a three meters-tall machine walked through. The creature looked like a vat on six steely spider legs, with two mechanical hands at the front. Crimson liquid swirled inside the vat, as an energy bolt raced through

at the robot, but never reached his target. The machine pointed a hand at the Psycho, and a crimson glow lifted him above

Genome. A true telekinetic, capable of applying force to anything with Red

with such force, it flattened the Psycho. The scene reminded Ryan of a mosquito being crushed

its attention towards Ryan, raising a steel hand in

away from his current position and firing a shot. The

me, robot, can you touch yourself with that power?” Ryan taunted the machine, which answered by trying to slam him against a wall. Only the

answered by telekinetically ripping out steel panels from the walls, and throwing them

The courier might as well be speaking to a wall, so he

it would disrupt its telekinesis; the courier couldn’t afford smashing the glass container in close combat, or he might risk being drenched in Elixir. The arm fell off when

Wardrobe’s costume had been fashioned for war, and

escaped inside with Alchemo. The courier tried to follow, but the machine attempted to grind him into paste with its remaining arm. Though the time-traveler managed to activate his time-stop and move away each time the creature started applying force around

to slither through the ceiling’s hole, and fell directly

black ooze, its mere proximity negating the machine’s telekinesis like Alphonse Manada’s radiation. The shoggoth dissolved the

fled into the tunnel, leaving his

crimson lights and screens flickering above his head. A red forcefield shielded the central, biomechanical brain,

the turrets, help our brainy friend,” Ryan told Sarin, as he reloaded his coil gun and opened fire at a turret. A projectile went through the machine and caused it

at it. Then, he started riding it like a bull, forcefully aiming it at the other weapons in the room. A hail of bullets flew across the room once time resumed, but the

pedestal holding the giant brain; part of it rusted, and caused the forcefield to short-out. Alchemo immediately used the opportunity to

his syringe-fingers and connecting to the alien machinery. Blue lightning raced through Alchemo’s

then, the turrets abruptly stopped firing a single shot. The one that Ryan had seized deactivated, much to his disappointment. He had loved

at the turrets as if

was lukewarm. “I’m changing the admin privileges and ID credentials, so it

or gunfire,” Ryan said,

few redshirts, but the information gathered on the defenses would serve him

holographic observatory. Frank had piled up