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.

would deliver a speech, but let’s be honest, a Psycho’s life is nasty, brutish, and short.” Ryan put his hands on

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

since Ryan had started

of his men reaching the mainframe, after all, which meant that the things on

without taking risks, and Len needed

aside and raised his coil gun, “Sarin, be

second-in-command raised her hands, and blasted the steel door

welcomed with a

stray ray could hit her. On the other side of the broken door, the courier glimpsed a squadron of cyclopean androids, each firing rays from

robot squadron. The giant crushed anything in his

at

All hell broke loose.

barely took a step before he had to dodge a bullet, as the walls opened to reveal twin miniguns on each side. A volley

froze time and shot both weapons with his coil gun. Thankfully, the projectiles

robots with shockwaves, with the Reptilian tackling any tin can approaching her too closely. Ink Machine leaped around the room and used her

had realized the truth upon closer examination: her tentacled shadow was the real her,

corridor’s lights suddenly increased in luminosity. Two robots moved their pitch-black shadows in such a way, that they seemed

the nature of her power and figure out a counter. They had also realized that Frank could

could learn. Worst of all, the way they moved, avoiding friendly fire, and coordinating almost perfectly…

had identified Alchemo as a key target; perhaps because

Ryan shouted while pointing at Alchemo, the shoggoth immediately switching from attacking robots to protecting the Genius. The ooze swirled

on Ryan. Five robots unleashed a volley of lasers in his direction, and

Ryan taunted them while he activated his power. He leaped out of the lasers’ way in the frozen

bowler hat the moment time resumed, infuriating him. Ryan angrily retaliated by shooting down the machines holding Gemini with his coil gun, freeing the Psycho.

rampage and smashed through the next door. The new room beyond the hallway took the shape of a large dome, with the ceiling layered with

to look at the beautiful spectacle, as small holes opened all over the dome. Eye-shaped drones flew through, and opened fire at the group

unleashing a blinding light. Blast doors on the walls opened and more cyclopean androids

through the ground-bound machines, his metal body shrugging off lasers easily enough. Unfortunately, his lack of range prevented him from

push his second-in-command out of a bullet’s path

the rest of the group didn’t fare any better. Cyclopean robots were trying the same ‘shadow grab’ tactic their predecessors used on Gemini, except this time with greater numbers. Eight robots grabbed the Psycho’s shadow from all sides, and then started dismembering her. Gemini’s light body flickered out and collapsed in

other cyclopean machines had cornered Ink Machine, and incinerated her with sustained laser beams. The liquid Psycho dissipated into colored steam, her body

Reptilian had only avoided death

left once he had a brief respite, near a junction between the dome’s wall and the floor. “The structural weakness

Sarin complained, but obeyed all the same. Her gauntlets vibrated, and she started targeting the spot with shockwaves. Cracks

formed a defensive wall around her, Alchemo, Ryan, and the Reptilian. Only Frank was left out, but he clearly didn’t need help. Eventually, Hazmat Girl blew a wide hole

to the

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

complaining, only for the Reptilian and Ryan to grab him like a potato sack before jumping into the void. Frank and Darkling moved to cover the hole behind

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 had been replaced with

A Genome research lab.

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

we going next?” Sarin asked, pointing at

the gallery’s right steel wall, right behind a

from her fingers. The wall rusted at an accelerated rate while Ryan raised his eyes at the hole above his head. Thankfully,

the ground. Apparently, his enhanced senses allowed him to notice slight vibrations. “I sense something coming from the left. A

couldn’t be a dungeon raid without a boss at the end. “Braindead, behind me,” Ryan said, pushing the Genius closer to Sarin. “Reptilian, hold the line. It’s time to

would rather avoid that, Mr. President,” the

a choking motion, and the mook rediscovered his

six steely spider legs, with two mechanical hands at the front. Crimson

pointed a hand at the Psycho, and a crimson glow lifted him above the

of applying force to anything with Red Flux energy without

flattened the Psycho. The scene reminded Ryan of a mosquito being crushed by a flyswatter, the mangled body falling on the ground when the killerbot

the thing had turned its attention towards Ryan, raising a steel hand in

in the air, immediately moving away from his current position and firing

by trying to slam him against a wall. Only

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

as well be speaking

the joints, snapping it in half with Fisty. He hoped it would disrupt its telekinesis; the courier couldn’t afford smashing the glass container in close combat, or he might risk being drenched

been fashioned for war, and didn’t rupture from

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

that moment to slither through the ceiling’s hole, and fell directly on top of

like Alphonse Manada’s radiation. The shoggoth dissolved the Red Elixir inside the vat, absorbing the liquid and the

he fled into the tunnel, leaving his pet

his way into the bunker’s command room, crimson lights and screens flickering above his head. A red forcefield shielded the central, biomechanical brain, which Alchemo desperately attempted to bypass. Sarin, meanwhile, struggled to

turrets, help our brainy friend,” Ryan told Sarin, as he reloaded his coil gun and

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 distraction allowed

Chernobyl cosplayer released her gas at the metal pedestal holding the giant brain; part of it rusted, and caused the forcefield to short-out. Alchemo immediately used the opportunity to

with the giant brain, nailing it with his syringe-fingers and connecting

stopped firing a single shot. The one that Ryan had seized

glancing at the turrets as if

the admin privileges and ID credentials,

tremors or gunfire,” Ryan said, “so I would call this

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

from the recreational area to the holographic observatory. Frank had piled up a hill of robots at the center, which somewhat obscured the camera’s vision of the room. Other screens showed underground labs, a futuristic armory, and a