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.

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

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

started

Big Fat Adam had lost most of his men reaching the mainframe, after all, which meant that the things on the other

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

his coil gun, “Sarin, be a

you a vibrator...” His second-in-command raised her hands, and

was immediately welcomed with a hail of laser

froze time, grabbed Sarin, and pushed her out of the way before a stray ray could hit 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’ metal parts on

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

All hell broke loose.

walls opened to reveal twin miniguns on each

the rest of the group, Ryan froze time and shot both weapons with his coil gun. Thankfully,

Machine

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 shining woman a mere illusion. And that shadow could kill. When it hit the robots’ shadows, their bodies suffered

their pitch-black shadows in such

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

moved, avoiding friendly fire, and coordinating almost perfectly… they

Alchemo as a key target; perhaps because Ryan and the

the shoggoth immediately switching from attacking robots to protecting the Genius. The ooze swirled around Alchemo like a barrier without touching him, stopping any laser

Five robots unleashed

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

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

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

and opened fire at the group with submachine guns. Darkling immediately reshaped

light. Blast doors on the

Frank rampaged through the ground-bound machines, his metal body shrugging off lasers easily enough. Unfortunately,

his second-in-command out of a bullet’s path and to hit the damn

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

Ink Machine, and incinerated her with sustained laser beams. The liquid Psycho dissipated

had only avoided death so far by staying near

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

Her gauntlets vibrated, and she started targeting the spot with shockwaves. Cracks slowly began to

but Darkling formed a defensive wall around her, Alchemo, Ryan, and the Reptilian. Only Frank was left out, but he clearly didn’t need help.

path to the

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

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 two titans remained there, brave Spartiates holding off the whole

glass containers. Each of them contained half-formed humanoid bodies, some with their organs floating in

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 from

next?” Sarin asked, pointing at two

instead glanced at a key point in the gallery’s right steel wall, right behind a green vat. If they collapsed

her fingers. The wall rusted at an accelerated rate while Ryan

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

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

avoid that, Mr. President,” the

mimic a choking motion, and the mook rediscovered his

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

machine pointed

capable of applying force

Psycho. The scene reminded Ryan of a

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

current position and firing a shot.

which answered by trying to slam him against a wall. Only

telekinetically ripping out steel panels from the

machine. The courier might as well be speaking to

at the right moment, Ryan punched the machine’s left arm at 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 in Elixir. The arm fell off when time resumed, but the robot instantly retaliated by trying

Wardrobe’s costume had been fashioned for war, and

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

ceiling’s hole, and fell directly on top of

proximity negating the machine’s telekinesis like Alphonse Manada’s radiation. The

appétit, my dark friend!” Ryan said as he fled into the tunnel, leaving his pet shoggoth

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

brainy friend,” Ryan told Sarin, as he reloaded his coil gun

started riding it like a bull, forcefully aiming it at the other weapons in the room. A hail

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

it with his syringe-fingers and connecting to

The one that Ryan had seized deactivated, much to his

the turrets as if expecting

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

gunfire,” Ryan said,

lost a few redshirts, but the information gathered on the defenses

had piled up