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.

in, I would deliver a speech, but let’s be honest, a Psycho’s life is nasty, brutish, and short.” Ryan put his hands on his waist, Darth Vader style. “Our fists and guns will

the past, Sarin

first time since Ryan had started looping, this run

mainframe, after all, which meant that the things

Ryan hadn’t gotten this far without taking risks,

stepped aside and raised his coil gun, “Sarin, be a dear and use your

you a vibrator...” His second-in-command raised her hands, and blasted the steel door away with

immediately welcomed with

her. On the other side of the broken door,

before bull-rushing the robot squadron. The giant crushed anything in his path, his body absorbing the machines’

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

All hell broke loose.

dodge a bullet, as the walls opened to reveal twin miniguns on each side. A volley hit Ink Machine by surprise,

of the group, Ryan froze time and shot both weapons with his

her too closely. Ink Machine

of the 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

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

nature of

friendly fire, and coordinating almost perfectly… they weren’t individual units,

a key target;

the Genius. The ooze swirled around Alchemo

the machines switched targets. This time, they focused on Ryan. Five robots unleashed a volley of lasers

identify me as 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

infuriating him. Ryan angrily retaliated by shooting down

took the shape of a large dome, with the ceiling layered with holographic projections representing the solar system.

spectacle, as small holes opened all over the dome. Eye-shaped drones flew through, and opened fire at the group with submachine guns. Darkling immediately reshaped itself into a slimy barrier, shielding

sun turning supernova and unleashing a blinding light. Blast doors on the walls opened and more

off lasers easily enough.

eventually resorted to stopping time, both to push his second-in-command out of

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

sustained laser beams. The liquid Psycho dissipated into colored steam, her

avoided death so far by staying

a brief respite, near a junction between the dome’s wall and the floor.

but obeyed all the same. Her gauntlets vibrated, and she started targeting the spot with shockwaves. Cracks slowly began to appear on the floor, the metal foundations floundering under

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

to

“Reptilian, with us!” he ordered, while

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 there, brave Spartiates

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

A Genome research lab.

on the walls filled the vats with what Ryan guessed to be Elixirs. The Reptilian, in particular, could barely restrain himself

pointing at two

gallery’s right steel wall, right behind a green vat. If they collapsed it, they would gain

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

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

a dungeon raid without a boss at the end. “Braindead, behind me,” Ryan said, pushing the Genius closer to Sarin. “Reptilian, hold the line.

avoid that, Mr. President,” the reptile

hand to mimic a choking motion,

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 the substance; Ryan could see a tiny crimson spot at the center, a

immediately rushed at the robot, but never reached his target. The machine pointed

a telekinetic Genome. A true telekinetic, capable 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

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

current position and firing a shot. The coil gun’s projectile

him against a wall. Only the courier’s use of time-stop and enhanced timing allowed him to avoid the Reptilian’s fate. “I hope those hands aren’t

panels from the

with a mindless machine. The courier might as well be speaking to a wall, so

half with Fisty. He hoped it would disrupt its telekinesis; the courier couldn’t afford smashing the glass container

Wardrobe’s costume had been fashioned for war, and didn’t rupture

machine attempted to grind him into paste with its

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

the machine’s telekinesis like Alphonse Manada’s

fled into the tunnel, leaving his pet shoggoth to its

crimson lights and screens flickering above his head. A red forcefield shielded the central, biomechanical brain, which Alchemo desperately attempted to bypass.

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

reached a gatling turret and leaped at it. Then, he started riding it like a bull, forcefully aiming it at the

the 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

and connecting to the alien machinery. Blue lightning raced through Alchemo’s

stopped firing a single shot. The one that Ryan had seized deactivated, much to his

asked, glancing at the turrets as if expecting

changing the admin privileges and ID credentials, so it

Ryan said, “so I would call this operation

might have lost a few redshirts, but the information gathered

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