The Perfect Run

Scratching Eugène-Henry’s ears, Ryan mentally rehearsed his villain speech. He had put on the war hat, and prepared for battle.

Since Frank and the improved Mosquito were too big for the presidential van, the group instead switched to a light black truck and put the heavy-hitters in the back. Tea drove with a bandit’s hood covering her face, which made the android look like a hostage-taker. Sarin sat at the front, while Ryan kept the second row of seats for himself.

“Ah,” the Doll said while she looked at the road. “I feel nostalgic. It reminds me of the times we went out on picnics outside the farm.”

“Except with more mayhem,” Ryan added, his cat meowing on his lap. “And property damage.”

“This better be worth it,” Sarin said while typing on a tablet. “Even with the bunker under our control, we’re taking on Dynamis. The gov.”

“No, we’re putting big business back in its place,” Ryan replied. “If my plan works, and it will work, Dynamis will be too busy tearing itself apart to target us. Besides, Hector’s ultimatum ends today. Either we leave, or he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” His second-in-command marked a short pause, as she looked at the road. “Ryan, that bloody thing on the video... it’s inside all of us?”

“Inside everyone who took a Knockoff Elixir.” Which according to his calculations, covered around ten percent of New Rome’s population. Knockoffs cost a lot, but not as much as a house, and both Dynamis and Augustus made extensive use of the substance to bolster their forces.

One in every ten people they crossed on the street could become a Bloodstream clone at any moment.

“So almost all the gang,” Sarin said. “Whoever thought it was a good idea deserves to get shot.”

“Tobacco companies kill half their clients,” Ryan replied. Knowing Darth Manada, he probably thought the profit margin was worth the risk.

“They can’t get away with it,” Tea argued. “That’s monstrous.”

“Agreed.” Sarin nodded sharply. “And besides, they refused to pay us after all the risks we took fighting Augustus. Sweet revenge it is.”

“Sarin, Darling, are the videos ready?” Ryan asked.

“Yes, but Dynamis will probably take them down within minutes. They control the Dynanet and the airwaves.”

“Most, but not all of them,” Ryan said, as the truck stopped to pick up the crew’s last member. She opened the door to the courier’s left, and climbed inside the car.

For her first villain outing, Livia had settled on something simple, yet elegant: a black lounge suit with a red shirt and necktie underneath, alongside a Daft Punk-inspired helmet with the same color scheme. The outfit, while unable to hide her feminine curves, gave her a stylish androgynous look.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ryan introduced his new sidekick. “I present to you the one and only First Lady of our presidential regime, Queen Crimson!”

“Greetings,” Livia shyly introduced herself to the group. “I… I’m honored to meet you all.”

“Welcome, I’m the Doll!” Tea introduced herself warmly, while Sarin let out a grunt. “We’re going to have a fun time, you’ll see!”

The gynoid sounded disturbingly eager to participate in a criminal enterprise.

“Mr. President.” Ryan turned his head, Frank glancing through the window separating the light truck’s seats from its cargo. “Are you a Mormon?”

“No, though I will probably have to call myself a god at one point.” He couldn’t finish a villain run without one megalomaniacal speech or two. “Why such a question, Agent Frank?”

“You have the new and old First Ladies in the same car,” the giant explained. “Unless one of them is an intern?”

“I have only one wife, Agent Frank,” Ryan said, looking into the giant’s eyes. “And her name… is AMERICA!”

Well, the courier once had a rockstar phase with all the debauchery it implied. By the loop’s end, he had so many groupies, he didn’t remember half of them and could no longer walk straight. However, mindless sex’s novelty had quickly worn out. Ryan preferred an exclusive, intimate relationship with one person; something with a deeper connection than superficial lust.

He was looking for a soulmate.

“The Underdiver won’t be joining us?” Livia asked, a bit curious.

Ryan’s mood instantly worsened. “No, she won’t.”

her father, in the end, that relationship was an open wound that never healed. All the progress she had made in the last loop seemed to have been washed

only help her

sorry,” Livia said, upon sensing his unease. “I didn’t

front, trying to guide the conversation towards less awkward grounds. “Especially

the helmet, he would have bet his hand that she

diss anyone wearing a Dior suit,” Ryan reassured Livia, Eugène-Henry moving from his lap to the

feline while the truck moved towards Dynamis’ Star Studios. “I know cats have nine lives, but he will be in the middle of a

will happen as I have foreseen,” Ryan said ominously, before giving her the Fisty Brothers to wear. “Put them

“What

the courier replied before checking the time. “According to our schedule, we have roughly one hour before Wardrobe and the others check-in to do

coffee shot. Two guards lazily controlled cars

tensing on the driving wheel as they approached the checkpoint. “Ryan,

“Loud.”

that even

side of the road to dodge, as the Meta-Gang’s vehicle smashed through the

as the supervillain crew exited the car. Ryan carried Eugène-Henry in his hands, Livia struggled to put Fisty over her gloves, the Doll opened the truck’s container to free its passengers, and Sarin unleashed a mighty shockwave to the

time, the Studios’ staff finally understood the danger and fled in

almost doubled in size. The crimson flesh beneath his exoskeleton had turned green, his muscles swelling until they became almost grotesque. Ryan

tries to fly in,” Ryan said. The Doll grabbed a rocket launcher hidden beneath the seats and locked

flight and ran circles above the studio. Ryan

reception hall, ignoring the terrified secretaries, interns, and workers too afraid to stop their advance. Most of the security guards weren’t paid enough to fight a band of Genomes, but one did dare to threaten Ryan with

door protected by a keycard lock, reading the words ‘News Studio’ written on it. “Agent

quickly noticed a terrified technician with a keycard around his neck; Ryan quickly identified him as Kevin, one of the scriptwriters working on the movie in the previous loop. The

scriptwriter by the pants, spilling the coffee all over the floor, and dangled him in front of the lock like a toy. The door opened

you, Mr. President,” the giant said, as he dropped his victim onto the floor. From the brown spot on

door, only for Frank to walk

Rome’s news set was a wide circular room the size of an apartment, with half the walls covered by a large 3D screen. A well-lit anchor news desk faced two cameras, and a horde of low-wage slaves kept in eternal darkness. A handsome, brown-haired anchorman sat on a leather chair, having been ready to deliver the morning

launcher. The fearful screams didn’t last long, replaced with cowering silence as Frank and the Doll herded half a dozen technicians into a corner. The cameramen continued their

if you don’t resist,” the Doll promised the hostages, even

Sarin said, as she hooked her tablet to a recording device. Livia stood in the background, too anxious

space. The man rose from his seat without a word and joined the other hostages, leaving the courier free to take over the chair. Eugène-Henry meowed on his lap, looking at the cameras like

enough?” Ryan asked Livia,

you could raise your hat a little, that

advice and

Boss,” Sarin said, forcing a cameraman to focus on Ryan’s

at the various technicians, noticing a young teen with brown hair and acne. “You’re an intern?” he asked

“U-uh, yes sir!”

young teen immediately fled out of the room to fulfill his order, though Ryan wasn’t sure

himself to the camera. “Good morning, America! While it’s saddening you won’t hear the weather report—spoiler warning, go to the beach today—oh

born for

took over that dump of a northern district. We are currently taking Star Studios hostage until

A-bomb on

to understand, this device can induce a thermonuclear detonation that will burn the whole city to ashes. If I were you, I would pack your stuff

lights aimed

be desperate enough

with the coffee, and put it at the desk’s edge, as far away from Ryan as possible. “Thank

now?” the intern asked, sweating

camera. He noticed Livia pushing the intern towards the other hostages, but didn’t pay much attention. “Now, perhaps you're

behind his desk broadcast his

the courier had ‘edited’ the film to make it fit within a five minutes length, but such

echoed behind Ryan. “My agreement was

continue