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 his waist, Darth Vader style.

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 guard, or Darkling using Ghoul as a vessel at the right time. Nor could the courier expect the plushie to play along and stick to

Ryan had started

face heavy resistance. Big Fat Adam had lost most of his men reaching the mainframe, after all, which meant that the things on the other side could kill Genomes. One laser to the head, a single fluke, and this

gotten this far without taking risks, and

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

her hands, and

welcomed with a hail of laser

the way before 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 their single eye. They had assembled in tight, defensive positions

Frank immediately shouted as time resumed, before bull-rushing the robot squadron. The giant crushed anything in

Ryan and Alchemo remained at their formation’s center, with

All hell broke loose.

twin miniguns on each side. A volley hit Ink Machine by surprise,

weapons with his coil gun. Thankfully, the projectiles were powerful enough to perforate the turrets, blowing large holes

tin can approaching her too closely. Ink Machine leaped

Ryan had realized the truth upon closer examination: her tentacled shadow was the real her, and the shining woman a mere illusion. And

their pitch-black shadows in such

to guess the nature of her power and figure out a counter. They had also realized that Frank could absorb metal on touch, and switched from trying to dogpile him

they moved, avoiding friendly

key target; perhaps because Ryan and the others focused on protecting

robots to protecting the Genius. The ooze swirled around Alchemo like a barrier without touching him, stopping

afterward though, the machines switched targets. This time, they focused on Ryan. Five robots unleashed

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

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

opposition, Frank resumed his 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 holographic projections representing the solar system. Ryan

dome. Eye-shaped drones flew through, and opened

illusory sun turning supernova and unleashing a blinding light. Blast doors on the walls opened and more cyclopean androids walked through, an unrelenting tide of

formed a wall to protect Alchemo, Frank rampaged through the ground-bound machines, his metal body shrugging off lasers easily enough. Unfortunately, his lack of range prevented him from hitting

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

same ‘shadow grab’ tactic their predecessors used on Gemini, except this time with greater numbers. Eight robots grabbed the Psycho’s shadow from all

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

Reptilian had only avoided death

a junction between the dome’s wall and the floor. “The

the spot with shockwaves. Cracks slowly began to appear on the floor,

Reptilian. Only Frank was left out, but he clearly didn’t need help. Eventually, Hazmat Girl blew a wide

path to the

orders. “Reptilian, with us!” he ordered, while Sarin leaped into the hole. “Frank,

Reptilian and Ryan to grab 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

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

A Genome research lab.

guessed to be Elixirs. The Reptilian, in

we going next?” Sarin asked, pointing at two blast

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

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

shouted, his hands on the ground. Apparently, his enhanced senses allowed him to notice slight vibrations. “I sense something coming

me,” Ryan said, pushing the Genius closer to Sarin. “Reptilian, hold

would rather avoid that, Mr.

choking motion,

front. Crimson liquid swirled inside the vat, as an energy bolt raced through

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

A true telekinetic, capable of applying force to anything with

the ceiling with such force, it flattened the Psycho. The scene reminded Ryan of a mosquito being crushed by a flyswatter, the mangled body falling

towards Ryan, raising a steel hand in his

moment he sensed pressure in the air, immediately moving away from his current position and firing a shot. The coil gun’s projectile bounced off the strange glass protecting the red substance, much to the time-traveler's

that power?” Ryan taunted the machine, which answered by trying to slam 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

with a mindless machine. The courier might as well be speaking to a wall, so he focused on avoiding the projectiles

smashing the glass container in

costume had been fashioned for war,

a tunnel and escaped inside with Alchemo. The courier tried to follow, but the machine attempted to grind him into paste with its remaining

slither through the ceiling’s

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

said as he fled into the tunnel, leaving his pet shoggoth

way into the bunker’s command room, crimson lights and screens flickering above his head. A red forcefield shielded the central, biomechanical brain, which

his coil gun and opened fire at a turret. A projectile went through the machine

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

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

the previous loop, the Genius intertwined with the giant brain, nailing it with his syringe-fingers and connecting

Ryan

glancing at the turrets as if expecting

“I’m changing the admin privileges and ID credentials,

Ryan said, “so I would call this operation a

redshirts, but the information gathered on the

around the mainframe showed videos of the bunker’s rooms, from the recreational area to the holographic observatory. Frank had piled up a hill of robots at the