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.

shoot her, only to realize that his gun’s barrel was empty. He almost

time-traveler mumbled to himself, as he tossed his gun

front panicked. “Wait,

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

thumbs behind the rabbit’s

Plushie’s eyes unleashed a bright beam of light as its ears lowered, while

the four-lane. Now, having watched countless movies, Ryan expected a massive explosion, or for both beams to cancel each other out. Instead, they slightly undulated but still crossed

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 of its path. A civilian’s Ferrari car drove off the road in an attempt to

Ryan complained as

Security helicopter had caught up to the racers, its side gate opening to reveal a passenger. A beautiful Japanese woman in a tight, blue costume

cop uniform. The

used it. Almost 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

Plymouth Fury’s autopilot still worked though, callously violating traffic laws. Soon, it left its pursuers behind in

me anytime,” Ryan said as he looked at Wardrobe with longing. He immediately beat himself over it. Must… stay… faithful… to my First Lady! He imagined Livia

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

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,

It didn’t even behead her, as her throat contained the blast. If anything, Wyvern looked

Her claws almost closed on the Olympian, but a shockwave propelled him upward above

as the flying Mars 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 eyes in response. Dragon Mom let out a roar of pain as a fountain of blood flowed down on her face. Mars used repeated shockwaves to

what was happening. Mars was teleporting pressurized

intercept the centurion wannabe, while Wyvern’s eyes seemed to partly regenerate from the damage. Unfortunately, Mars reacted faster than the heroes. He summoned bombs close to the Private Security helicopter, destroying two of the

it with two hands, while holding Sparrow prisoner by squeezing the hitwoman with her tail. Wardrobe managed to hang on to Ryan’s

remained behind, leaving Mars to pursue the Plymouth Fury unmolested. The Olympian used repeated shockwaves to ‘jump’

we aren’t shaking off your daddy issues just yet,” he warned his sidekick, 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 to

Renault Espace French car on the four-lane, and though the damaged Plymouth

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

and found bullets to reload it with in the glovebox.

a gun?” the courier asked, as Mars ‘jumped’ behind a luxury hotel on the strip. Ryan raised his thumbs,

man riding with a woman holding him by the chest. Though both wore helmets, Felix immediately

they friends or foes

the lane, veering to avoid the burning wrecks Mars left in his wake. Augusti guards in power armor emerged from the casinos to watch the chase, mesmerized. Both sides looked confused, perhaps due to

courier’s task easier. By trying to keep the hit on Atom Cat relatively quiet, the Olympians had neglected to inform their

needed to escape the city before Lightning Butt climbed down from

as Mars

Ryan glanced at the beach, and to his relief noticed the tower of the

quickly noticed a pleasure pier splitting the beach like a dagger, three hundred meters from their location. Two yachts were anchored on each side, sitting in the waters. “Put on your seatbelt,” the courier ordered his sidekick as he moved

what he had in mind. “We

it’s for your sake,” Ryan said, before focusing on the Chronoradio and the road ahead. “Shortie, we’ll jump from the

second favorite cat didn’t

under Livia’s protection,” Ryan replied as Jamie’s motorcycle slowly

fists. “She saw this happen.

involves sparing

than twenty meters in length from his hands, each with a

had harpooned the

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 the concrete.

the chain at the back!” Ryan ordered as he hastily seized the driving wheel. The courier still had a short cooldown to take into account, and he didn’t trust the autopilot

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 launching small kitchen tools. He