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.

before we go 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 do the talking

that made it possible wouldn’t repeat, from Psyshock going to the past, Sarin acting as

time since Ryan had started looping, this run would

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

without taking risks,

raised his coil gun, “Sarin, be a dear

her hands, and blasted the steel door away

with a hail of laser

door, the courier glimpsed a squadron of cyclopean androids, each firing rays from their single eye. They had assembled in tight, defensive positions along a large steel

robot squadron. The giant crushed anything in his path, his body

and Alchemo remained at their formation’s

All hell broke loose.

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

shot both weapons with his coil gun. Thankfully, the

her too closely. Ink Machine leaped around the room and used her liquid form

of shining light at first glance, Ryan had realized the truth upon closer examination: her tentacled shadow was the real her, and the shining woman

corridor’s lights suddenly increased in luminosity. Two robots moved their pitch-black shadows in such a

It had only taken the machines a few minutes to guess the nature of her

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

a key target; perhaps because

shield the medic!” Ryan shouted while pointing at Alchemo, the shoggoth immediately switching from attacking robots to protecting the Genius. The ooze swirled around Alchemo like a barrier without

Ryan. Five robots

while he activated his power. He leaped out of the lasers’ way in the frozen time, before

shooting down the machines holding Gemini with his coil gun, freeing the Psycho. Her

of a large dome, with the

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

light. Blast doors on the walls

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 the floating eyes, leaving the

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

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

Ink Machine, and incinerated her with sustained laser beams.

avoided death so

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

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

Alchemo, Ryan, and the Reptilian. Only Frank was left out, but he clearly didn’t need help. Eventually, Hazmat

path to

he ordered,

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 holding off the whole Persian

some with their organs floating in colored liquid; while they had human features, the creatures’ limbs were unnaturally long, and part

A Genome research lab.

on the walls filled the vats with what Ryan guessed to be Elixirs. The

Sarin asked, pointing at two blast doors.

wall, right behind a green vat. If they collapsed it,

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

him to notice slight vibrations. “I sense something coming from

“Braindead, behind me,” Ryan said, pushing the Genius closer to Sarin. “Reptilian, hold the line. It’s time

avoid that, Mr. President,”

raised his hand to mimic a choking motion, and the mook rediscovered his

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

at the robot, but never reached his target. The machine pointed a hand at the Psycho,

telekinetic, capable of applying

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

had turned its attention towards Ryan, raising

time the moment he sensed pressure in the air, immediately moving away from his current position and firing

with that power?” Ryan taunted the machine, which answered by trying to slam him against a wall. Only the courier’s use of

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

was no fun to banter with a mindless machine. The courier might as well be speaking to a wall, so he focused on avoiding the projectiles and closing

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 in Elixir. The arm fell off when time resumed, but the robot instantly retaliated by trying to impale

had been fashioned for war, and

him into paste with its remaining arm. Though the time-traveler managed to activate his time-stop and move

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

mere proximity negating the machine’s telekinesis like Alphonse Manada’s radiation. The shoggoth dissolved the Red Elixir inside the vat,

dark friend!” Ryan said as he fled into the tunnel, leaving 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.

his coil gun

at the other weapons in the room. A hail of bullets flew

the giant brain; part of it

intertwined with the giant brain, nailing it with his syringe-fingers and connecting to the alien machinery. Blue lightning raced through Alchemo’s exposed brain, his

Ryan had

the turrets as if expecting them

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

said, “so I would call this operation

few redshirts, but the information gathered on

holographic observatory. Frank had piled up a hill of robots at the center, which somewhat obscured the camera’s vision of the