The Perfect Run

The dragon cop let out a mighty roar, and the robber centurion answered with a spear to the eye.

Wyvern deflected the projectile with her scaled hand, the spear’s shaft snapping in half on impact. Determined to fight the LAW, Mars continued with his attacks, assisted by Sparrow. The Olympian and his accomplice launched javelins and lasers at the dragon above their head, while Mortimer outpaced them to chase after Ryan’s Plymouth Fury.

Wyvern, or Dragon Mom to friends, swiftly deflected the projectiles by zigzagging above buildings. Ryan watched her trying to find the right angle of attack, but she couldn’t open fire in a populated street. Unlike the Augusti, she wanted to avoid casualties.

A Private Security helicopter also joined the chase, though it was still too far away from the Plymouth for Ryan to identify the pilot. Probably nobody he knew.

“Take the wheel for a time,” Ryan said, as Mortimer gained ground on them. The hitman grabbed a shotgun from beneath his cloak, moving to the Plymouth’s right.

“You’re sure?” Felix asked, clearly uneasy at the idea. How couldn’t he be? Ryan’s car was a kingly throne on wheels, a sun that would burn the unworthy.

“I wasn’t talking to you, kitten,” the courier replied, as the car’s autopilot took over the driving wheel. Ryan moved to the backseat to get a better view, gun in hand, and aimed at his pursuer—after raising the right back window of course. “Stick to the baby seat.”

The courier froze time, and pulled the trigger. Ryan hoped that the hitman’s power wouldn’t work well in the frozen time, but to his frustration, the projectiles phased harmlessly through the criminal.

When time resumed, Mortimer closed in on the right, aimed at Felix, and pulled his shotgun’s trigger.

“Get down!” Ryan shouted, both he and his unwilling sidekick lowering their heads. The blast shattered the car’s front right window, but thankfully missed the passengers. The blowback almost tossed Mortimer off his motorcycle and forced him to pull back for a few seconds.

At this point, the Plymouth Fury left New Rome’s nightlife circuit and dashed into the Strip. Glitzy casinos and luminous establishments illuminated one side of the street like temples to consumerism, with hordes of gamblers, fixers, and players coming from all around Italy to worship them. The peaceful waters of the Mediterranean bordered artificial beaches and palm trees on the other side.

As the pursuit moved from narrow streets to a massive four-lane, Wyvern finally had the space to return fire. She unleashed a fireball at Mars and Sparrow from above, only for the former to summon a dozen medieval shields in midair. Dragon Mom’s projectile melted the steel wall, but her flames couldn’t hit the killers behind it.

Mars teleported a futuristic rocket launcher into the palm of his hand, which Ryan immediately recognized as Vulcan’s handiwork. The Olympian released a volley of fist-sized homing missiles at the dragon and forced her to blast them away in the skies.

The chase continued, the Plymouth Fury and its pursuers slaloming amidst other vehicles, moving from one lane to the other without rhyme or reason. While Wyvern and Mars fought one another, Sparrow and Mortimer focused on Ryan.

Swearing to protect his Plymouth Fury from all harm in his Perfect Run, the courier reloaded his gun, only to notice something rolling from below the backseat. A white-furred demon, smelling of antidepressants and gunpowder.

“How long have you been here?” Ryan asked, surprised.

The plushie didn’t respond, an empty revolver within reach of its paw.

“You’ve been playing Russian roulette in my car?” The time traveler glared at his wayward fiend. “The backseat is for love, not war!”

“Are you talking to a toy?” Felix asked while peeking over his broken window. He immediately lowered his head again to avoid a shotgun blast.

Ryan focused back on the car chase, and froze time again. Instead of firing at Mortimer himself though, he played dirty and targeted his vehicle’s wheels. The hitman couldn’t possibly keep his entire motorcycle intangible, or it would sink into the ground.

Ryan was right.

The bullets hit.

When time resumed, the motorcycle abruptly veered off course as its wheels deflated and threw its rider off its back. A surprised Mortimer phased through the ground as his vehicle crashed into a casino’s revolving door.

Ryan wondered if he would respawn like racing games contestants, but poor ol’ Mortimer didn’t come again.

Sparrow picked up the pace though. While Mars teleported Vulcan-made rounded bombs between himself and Wyvern to keep her at bay, Sparrow raised a hand in the Plymouth Fury’s direction. Thankfully, she looked far less experienced with a motorcycle than a Mercedes and had trouble aiming.

barrel

check something,” the time-traveler mumbled to himself, as he tossed

kitten at the front panicked. “Wait, what

the depressed abomination didn’t cut them off on the spot. The Plushie

his thumbs behind

a bright beam of light

watched countless movies, Ryan expected a massive explosion, or for both beams to cancel each other out. Instead, they slightly undulated but still crossed through one

his car’s roof and vaporized it, turning his Plymouth Fury into a convertible. The plushie’s gaze melted the concrete road and blew dust all over the four-lane, but the hitwoman managed to veer out

a bright flash!” Ryan complained as

the racers, its side gate opening to reveal a passenger. A

a fabulous traffic cop uniform. The Law

all vehicles in the vicinity shone with a golden glow, as Wardrobe asserted her authority. Sparrow’s motorcycle, Mars’ own bike, civilians’ cars, and even bicycles, all abruptly stopped in the middle

worked though, callously violating traffic laws. Soon,

over it. Must… stay… faithful… to my First Lady! He

on the Augusti like a falcon on doves, barring their way. Sparrow took a tail swipe to chest and ended the

leaped from his vehicle and switched his rocket launcher with a thermal lance. As he jumped within ten meters of Wyvern, he immediately summoned bombs inside the dragon’s throat, her neck expanding like a

contained the blast. If anything,

impacted her thick scales. Her claws almost closed on the Olympian, but

materialized a shield while in midair beneath his feet. A new shockwave erupted around his boots, pushing both the Genome and his shield into different directions. Wyvern attempted to catch the escaping Caporegime with her fangs, but he quickly summoned swords inside her

happening. Mars was teleporting pressurized air beneath his iron boots, and

flew down to intercept the centurion wannabe, while Wyvern’s eyes seemed to partly regenerate from the damage. Unfortunately, Mars reacted faster than the heroes.

two hands, while holding Sparrow prisoner by squeezing the hitwoman with her tail. Wardrobe managed

Mars to pursue the Plymouth Fury unmolested. The Olympian used repeated shockwaves to

before pushing the Plushie’s ears. The rabbit unleashed a beam of energy at Mars, but the Olympian zigzagged between the waterfront and the casino

moved on to bigger stuff. He dropped a Renault Espace French car on the four-lane, and though the damaged Plymouth Fury avoided a

teleported a Japanese truck, but the Plushie’s baleful laser glare blasted it to pieces. Deciding to cheat, Ryan froze time and had the rabbit demon blast a paralyzed Olympian mid-flight. The beam tossed Mars back when time resumed, but the man swiftly switched the damaged

to reload it with in the

luxury hotel on the strip. Ryan raised his thumbs, causing the Plushie to turn its head at him with an unhappy, non-lethal

best, alright!” Felix complained, before noticing a new motorcycle entering the four-lane from their right. A man riding with a woman holding him by

they friends or foes

wrecks Mars left in his wake. Augusti guards in power armor emerged from the casinos to watch the chase, mesmerized. Both sides

task easier. By trying to keep the hit on Atom Cat relatively quiet, the Olympians had neglected to inform their mooks. Most were too confused to chase after Ryan and Felix, and it would

climbed

as Mars reappeared

here!” Her voice came out of the chronoradio. Ryan glanced at the beach, and to his relief noticed the tower of the

location. Two yachts were anchored on each side, sitting in the waters. “Put on your seatbelt,” the courier ordered his sidekick as he

in mind. “We

Chronoradio and the road ahead.

cat didn’t

is a serial lottery winner, and both are under Livia’s protection,” Ryan replied as Jamie’s motorcycle

his fists. “She

involves sparing

as Mars switched strategies. He launched two spiked chains more than twenty meters in length from his hands, each with a grappling hook at the

had harpooned the car

its forepaws in excitement as it opened fire on the chain grappling the car hood. The beam melted the links, but time resumed before the courier could turn around and sever the second link. Mars landed on the ground while manifesting a shield beneath his feet, waterskiing on

still had a short cooldown to take into account, and he didn’t trust the autopilot

back as the vehicle escaped the four-lane and turned towards the pier. The hero tried to reach for the chain with one hand, but had to lower himself to avoid a flying knife from his father. Mars started to pull himself toward the Plymouth Fury, using both hands to move up the chain while