The Perfect Run

Bacchus returned to his factory to find it in ruins.

The face he made upon seeing his base burning would forever remain one of Ryan’s most cherished memories. Such a subtle mix of disbelief, anger, horror… the priest had clenched his jaw so tightly that the courier worried he might break his teeth.

Augustus’ reaction had been far less amusing though.

After landing on the island to see things for himself and hearing reports of the Carnival’s involvement, the mob boss had decimated a tenth of the surviving guards. Literally. He picked one out of ten at random, and had their peers beat them to death.

With their bare hands.

Though Ryan watched the whole show from the safety of Len’s underwater base, a spy bathysphere providing a living feed, the scene had sent chills down his spine.

The courier feared for Vulcan’s life in particular. She had been in charge of maintaining the defensive perimeter which the strike team easily dealt with, and Mob Zeus was clearly out for blood. The Genius was too precious to kill, but Augustus didn’t strike Ryan as the most rational person in the room.

“I kinda feel bad for these mooks,” Ryan said, as the video feed cut.

“They deserved it,” Len replied at his side, typing on her workshop’s computer. Servers thrummed next to steampunk-ish metal pipes, a song of steam and heat. “They were protecting a slaughterhouse, Riri.”

“I agree, but getting beaten to death by your own teammates is a ghastly way to die.” More to the point, it gave a taste of what Augustus would do to Ryan’s friends if he ever learned of their involvement. “Can you evacuate the base in short order if needed? I have the feeling Lightning Butt might pay it a visit in the near future.”

“I can move the habitats if I am forewarned,” his best friend replied. “They were, uh, designed to be self-sufficient. Each of them. If I disassemble them, they can move around independently.”

“Tiny islands of communism in a capitalistic sea… did you call it the Cuba Protocol?”

Len looked up from her computer, her beautiful eyes reeking of guilt.

“You did,” Ryan said, horrified.

“The Cuba Initiative,” she said, weakly.

Ryan studied his poor deluded accomplice, only for his eyes to wander to her clothes. While the time-traveler kept the Saturn armor on, Len had made herself comfortable in her lair; yet instead of her usual jumpsuit, she now wore a pair of blue overalls and a white shirt. The ensemble reminded the courier of these USSR worker ads.

“Riri?”

“Are these new clothes?” Ryan asked, never remembering them from the half a dozen or so loops they spent together.

“Yes.” She blushed a little, intimidated. “Alchemo’s treatment is good for my mood, and I… I thought I should try something else. Something brighter.”

“As long as you don’t wear red,” Ryan mused.

Len looked away. “I… I don’t want to do so. I’ve seen enough red for a lifetime.”

Ryan suddenly wondered if her obsession with communist iconography hadn’t been a subconscious attempt to keep her father’s memory alive. Though that sounded a bit too far-fetched and Freudian for him. “Have you pondered Bloodstream’s situation?” he asked. He knew what needed to be done, but she had to accept it.

“I did,” Len replied with a nod, her gaze harshening. “If… if the treatment we’re developing to cure Psychos doesn’t work on him…”

She took a long, heavy breath.

“If it doesn’t work,” Len said, with an air of finality. “I will do it myself.”

She would euthanize her father.

“Are you sure?” Ryan asked, mindful of her wellbeing. This would be a horrifying ordeal for anyone. “I can do it for you.”

“No, Riri. You already did a lot of things on my behalf. It’s… it’s my duty. My choice. He’s… my father’s memory. He deserves that much.”

“You will carry this pain all your life.”

“I know,” Len replied, her gaze determined. “I know. But I will still do it. I have to.”

It took a while, but she had finally decided to break out of her father’s shadow. To bury his ghost, if the man inside was gone for good.

Ryan put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy, making her smile sadly. “Thanks, Riri,” she said, putting her own hand over his own. He could have sworn he could sense the heat through the metal gauntlet. “I… I know I’m difficult. A wreck. Most wouldn’t have had your patience. Wouldn’t have stayed so long to help.”

“We’re both sinking ships,” Ryan said. “Gotta stick together, if we want to stay afloat.”

“We were sinking ships,” she replied, removing her hand. “We were.”

The workshop’s computer bleeped, as Len received a call from the Mechron bunker. The picture of Stitch appeared on the screen, with Mr. Wave petting Eugène-Henry in the background. “Greetings, sir,” the plague doctor said. “It has reached my ears that the raid was a success.”

“Mr. Wave likes this cozy place,” Mr. Wave said in the background, Eugène-Henry meowing his hands. “But Mr. Wave feels his portrait is missing somewhere.”

“I keep a poster in my room,” Ryan said. “I also have the Mr. Wave doll, the Mr. Wave ring, and the Mr. Wave hat.”

Mr. Wave-themed

as my car,” Ryan replied. That old machine had been at his side far

“Mr. Wave apologizes for not visiting

in underwater situations,” Stitch mused. “As

doesn’t sink,” the Red Genome

“Alchemo is enthusiastic about repairing the brain

habitats appeared on the screen. Knockoffs had turned each of them into Psychos in combination with a true Elixir, and both had received a dose of the

didn’t recognize

now smooth and unblemished. His bloodshot eyes had reverted to their natural brown color, and a black tuft of hair had started growing back on his head.

the insect had turned into a man. A small, pudgy man in his early forties, with brown

a Psycho mutation, Mosquito could revert

He looked happy, like a cancer patient having made a miracle recovery. In contrast, Mosquito was reading a book and clearly bored out of his mind. Ryan couldn’t blame him, since

They looked so... normal.

importantly, they had done

cured

a treatment, especially since Alchemo hadn’t found a way to transfer her memories back. “We’re getting closer to

the Bloodstream particles in their circulatory system and reverses the genetic damage. As illustrated by Mosquito’s cases, the true Elixir takes over and turns them back into the Genomes they

who you asked. The metal giant spent his time

an extra Elixir, if that is even possible,” Stitch explained. “I heard of a White Genome among the Augusti who

said. “She doesn’t

the problem with the cure?” Len

a different level. If one of my plagues modifies a target’s DNA, even

the Elixirs of their ‘mistake’ in the bonding process, they will see any DNA modification of their

abnormal, non-DNA-based biologies, such as your friend Sarin, Frank, or Gemini. Their bodies are made of gas, metal, or shadows,

memory transfer difficult. Their consciousness wasn’t hosted in a brain, to the point Alchemo struggled to

Flux to exchange information?” Ryan suggested. This was his best guess,

of information on the matter, but nowhere near enough. It took its AIs years to

the bonding process,” Ryan said. “I know a place where we

“I was skeptical at first about this project, but now I believe we are close to a great discovery. If we can negate

him. “Sure, but you should trade your gloves for

he’s a one-man global warming,” Mr. Wave said in

looked at his best

power’s limits with the transfer machine, but Elixir communications…

our winter vacations,” Ryan said. “Can you outfit the submarine

leave New Rome. “Do we have time to stop at the Canary Islands on the way? The children will love

Ryan replied with a proud smile. A few loops ago, Len had considered abandoning the surface altogether. She would have asked to go to Antarctica without delay, refusing to take a moment to breathe and simply

had taken a lot of effort, but

Mount Augustus by car, and

an English-styled manor close to Mount Augustus. The mansion was three stories tall, and made of grey stone and stained-glass windows rather than

doormen in fancy clothes awaiting guests. Ryan noticed a few

Ryan came to pick his girlfriend, Mortimer and Sparrow had escorted them all the way to their destination on motorcycles. For a moment, the time traveler felt

though. Ryan had sent Incognito, a Meta-Gang member, to act as his decoy. By using his powers to pose as the courier, the Psycho had provided him with a foolproof alibi. As far as the Augusti were concerned, Ryan had gambled colossal sums of money at their casinos

Ryan had infected him with nanites that would explode in his blood if he misbehaved. It was

his Saturn armor for a purple shirt and black pants, simple yet elegant. Meanwhile, Livia had chosen to wear a black turtleneck and pants, as if she went to a funeral rather than a dinner. Which in this case wasn’t that far from the

hadn’t said a

did the same with their motorcycles. The former stayed near the Plymouth Fury, and the latter exchanged words with the doorsmen

out of her pocket and wordlessly

posed in front of the fortress’ smoking rubble, thumb raised, while Mr. Wave peeked from the right. Ryan had drawn words in the sand, as

looking for that lightning

said, as she switched out her phone. “If we were

struck you

d—” She paused, before rolling her eyes.

idea crossed my mind.” This time it made her giggle. “I guess I didn’t spend enough time

it rains, it pours,” Livia lamented, a smile on her

I can see

Ryan,” she said, wounding his sensitive heart, “but so bad they

out of her parents’ claws? They won’t let her out of sight after the loss of their

have an idea in mind, but I need a little more time to refine it,” Livia said. “Whenever your actions have a large impact, it takes

tightened on the driving wheel. “Bacchus kept test subjects in the

possibility,” she said, looking away. “I hoped I was

asked, his girlfriend nodding hesitantly. “Then I

she warned. “It will

that he could destroy Geist and had access to the Bliss Factory’s systems, he could easily shatter the defenses

father will react

won’t give him

locked eyes with her boyfriend.