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 candy

much as my car,” Ryan replied. That old machine had been

respects a man who loves his car,” the superhero said. “Mr. Wave apologizes for not visiting your underwater base. Mr. Wave

mused. “As our fight with the Kraken gang seven years

doesn’t sink,” the Red Genome protested. “He waits.

victims you sent me are getting medical attention as we speak,” Stitch said. “Alchemo is enthusiastic about repairing the brain damage they suffered, and early test results of our Bliss vaccine are promising. The Bloodstream cure also

screen. Knockoffs had turned each of them into Psychos in combination with a true Elixir, and both had

almost didn’t recognize either of

now smooth and unblemished. His bloodshot eyes had reverted to their natural brown color, and a black

feed indicating his cell number; for the insect had turned into a man. A small, pudgy man in his early forties, with brown skin and a beardless face. He

Mosquito could revert

kitchen counter, a bright smile on his face. He looked happy, like a cancer patient having made a

They looked so... normal.

they

cured two

since Alchemo

possible, since our vaccine destroys the Bloodstream particles in their circulatory system and reverses the genetic damage. As illustrated by Mosquito’s cases, the true Elixir takes

on who you asked. The metal giant spent his time glancing at the abyss beyond his porthole,

have no way of destroying an extra Elixir, if that is even possible,” Stitch

their colored dimension,” Ryan said. “She doesn’t destroy the Elixir itself,

with the cure?”

canvas, but they work on a different level. If one of my plagues modifies a target’s DNA, even using

we can inform the Elixirs of their ‘mistake’ in the bonding process, they will see

your friend Sarin, Frank, or Gemini. Their bodies are made of gas, metal, or shadows, not

transfer difficult. Their consciousness wasn’t hosted in a

the Elixirs use Flux to exchange information?” Ryan suggested. This was his

database has a wealth of information on the matter, but nowhere

said. “I know a place where we

this project, but

“Sure, but you should trade

Wave will provide the warmth, he’s a one-man global warming,” Mr. Wave said in the background,

arms, considered his options, and then looked at his best friend. “Any

pushed my power’s

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

Rome. “Do we have time to stop at the Canary Islands on the

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

taken a lot of effort, but she was starting to live

picked up Livia at Mount Augustus by car,

and made of grey stone and stained-glass windows rather than marble. Ryan found

in fancy clothes awaiting guests. Ryan noticed a few vehicles

pick his girlfriend, Mortimer and Sparrow had escorted them all the way to their destination on

the Psycho had provided him with a foolproof alibi. As far as the Augusti were concerned, Ryan

with nanites that would explode in his blood if he misbehaved. It was Mechron’s version of an ankle

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

said a

motorcycles. The

of her pocket

her boyfriend sent her after destroying the Bliss Factory. The courier posed in front of the fortress’ smoking rubble, thumb raised, while Mr. Wave peeked from the right. Ryan had drawn words in the sand,

Auggy, still looking

phone. “If we were

struck you as

it d—” She paused, before rolling her eyes.

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

it pours,” Livia lamented,

I can see you like

she said, wounding his sensitive heart, “but

the plan to get Narcinia out of her parents’

it,” Livia said. “Whenever your actions have a large impact, it takes

wheel. “Bacchus kept test subjects in the factory’s basement,”

saw the possibility,” she said, looking away. “I hoped

days ago?” Ryan asked, his girlfriend nodding hesitantly. “Then I will strike the factory as soon as the Meta-Gang is

be inside,” she warned.

to the Bliss Factory’s systems, he could easily shatter

father will

give him

eyes with her boyfriend. “You