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
Carnivals 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
Eugene-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, Eugéne-
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.”
“The Mr. Wave-themed candy trucks too?”
“Now, I like you, but not as much as my car,” Ryan replied. That old machine had
been at his side far longer than his Mr. Wave merchandise collection.
“Mr. Wave respects a man who loves his car,” the superhero said. “Mr. Wave
apologizes for not visiting your underwater base. Mr. Wave doesn't like being
wet.”
“My teammate does not do well in underwater situations,” Stitch mused. “As our
fight with the Kraken gang seven years ago can attest.”
“Mr. Wave doesn't sink,” the Red Genome protested. “He waits. Like alligators.”
“In any case, the Bliss 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 proved effective.”
Len typed on her keyboard, and video footage of Mosquito’s and Mongrel's
underwater 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 vaccine.
Ryan almost didn’t recognize either of them.
Mongrel's tumors had vanished, his disfigured face 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. He remained scrawny as
ever, but his posture was straight, his clothes clean.
As for Mosquito, the courier wouldn't have recognized him without the video 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 looked vaguely
Spanish, with the eyes of a veteran drinker.
It seemed that without a Psycho mutation, Mosquito could revert back and forth
between his insectoid and human form.
Both had been granted a separate underwater habitat as a lair. Mongrel cut
onions on his small kitchen counter, a bright smile on his face. 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
Len’s library was limited to Karl Marx and Jules Verne.
They looked so... normal.
And most importantly, they had done it.
They had cured two Psychos.
“Did Sarin see this?” Ryan asked. Miss Gasshole was growing impatient about
getting a treatment, especially since Alchemo hadn't found a way to transfer her
memories back. “We're getting closer to a perfect cure.”
The plague doctor was suddenly far less enthusiastic. “Curing Psychos who
gained their powers from Knockoffs is currently possible, since our vaccine
destroys the Bloodstream particles in their circulatory system and reverses the
genetic damage. As illustrated by Mosquitos cases, the true Elixir takes over and
turns them back into the Genomes they used to be. The problem is when a
Psycho uses two true Elixirs.”
Len changed the video feed to that of Frank the Mad—or Vladimir the Russian,
depending on who you asked. The metal giant spent his time glancing at the
abyss beyond his porthole, dazed.
“We have no way of destroying an extra Elixir, if that is even possible,” Stitch
explained. “I heard of a White Genome among the Augusti who could help,
though.”
“Cancel only suppresses an Elixir's connection to their colored dimension,” Ryan
said. “She doesn't destroy the Elixir itself, nor the mutations it causes.”
“What is the problem with the cure?” Len asked, confused.
“Unlike Knockoffs, Elixirs don't use DNA to exchange information,” Stitch
explained. “They can understand and modify it, like a painter and a canvas, but
they work on a different level. If one of my plagues modifies a target's DNA, even
using the Neanderthal gene ratio you believe is the key to managing two powers
at once, the Elixirs reassert their old patterns.”
“Unless we can inform the Elixirs of their “mistake’ in the bonding process, they
will see any DNA modification of their host as an outside influence to be
rejected,” Ryan guessed.
Stitch nodded. “My thoughts exactly. The problem is even greater with Psychos
with abnormal, non-DNA-based biologies, such as your friend Sarin, Frank, or
Gemini. Their bodies are made of gas, metal, or shadows, not flesh. My own
power is clueless about how to deal with them.”
And this made memory transfer difficult. Their consciousness wasn't hosted in a
brain, to the point Alchemo struggled to transfer Sarin's memories.
“Maybe the Elixirs use Flux to exchange information?” Ryan suggested. This was
his best guess, from what he had learned so far.
“Perhaps,” Stitch conceded. “But again, this is beyond my expertise, let alone my
peers Alchemo and Dr. Tyrano. Mechron’s database has a wealth of information
on the matter, but nowhere near enough. It took its Als years to create imperfect
Knockoffs. They might need a decade to fully reverse-engineer the original
potions.”
“We need more information on the bonding process,” Ryan said. “I know a place
where we could learn more about Elixirs.”
“If this is true, I would like to accompany you,” the plague doctor said with
eagerness. “I was skeptical at first about this project, but now I believe we are
close to a great discovery. If we can negate the dangerous side-effects of Elixirs,
then we could help society recover.”
The courier saw no reason to deny him. “Sure, but you should trade your gloves
for mittens.”
“Mr. Wave will provide the warmth, he’s a one-man global warming,” Mr. Wave
said in the background, as Len stopped the communication.
Ryan crossed his arms, considered his options, and then looked at his best
friend. “Any way you can help with this, Shortie?”
“It's not my specialty,” Len replied in the negative. “I pushed my power’s limits
with the transfer machine, but Elixir communications... that's beyond me, Riri.”
“Then let's prepare for our winter vacations,” Ryan said. “Can you outfit the
submarine for the trip?”
“Yes, of course,” she said with a nod. She looked rather eager to leave New
Rome. “Do we have time to stop at the Canary Islands on the way? The children
will love it.”
“Sure,” 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 enjoy the
wonders on the way.
It had taken a lot of effort, but she was starting to live again.
When twilight came, Ryan picked up Livia at Mount Augustus by car, and moved
to Mars and Venus’ home.
Unlike their daughter's apartment, the Augusti power couple lived in 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 marble. Ryan found it
a nice change from Augustus’ obsession with antiquity and Roman aestheticism.
The place remained luxurious though, with a fountain in the garden and doormen
in fancy clothes awaiting guests. Ryan noticed a few vehicles near the entrance,
including Jamie's and Cancel’s.
With the Bliss Factory's destruction, the Augusti had decided to increase security
around Narcinia, and Lightning Butt's daughter too. When 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 like a president
again, with bodyguards ready to die for his safety. Or at least his First Lady's.
They didn’t suspect him of treachery 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 while the
Bliss Factory burnt. And all it cost was a shot of Knockoff Elixirs to satisfy
Incognito’s addiction.
Also, Ryan had infected him with nanites that would explode in his blood if he
misbehaved. It was Mechron’s version of an ankle tag, and quite effective.
The courier had traded 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 truth.
Ryan's girlfriend hadn't said a word during the trip.
“Are you sulking?” the courier asked, as he parked his car near the fountain.
Sparrow and Mortimer did the same with their motorcycles. The former stayed
near the Plymouth Fury, and the latter exchanged words with the doorsmen to
check up on the security perimeter.
Livia brought a mobile phone out of her pocket and wordlessly showed Ryan the
screen.
It was a picture 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, as a message
to Lightning Butt.
“Hey Auggy, still looking for that lightning rod!”
“That was terrible,” Livia said, as she switched out her phone. “If we were
married, it would be grounds for divorce.”
“The joke struck you as bad?"
“Yes, it d—" She paused, before rolling her eyes. “Struck, truly?”
“I was just as shocked when the idea crossed my mind.” This time it made her
giggle. “I guess I didn’t spend enough time brainstorming.”
“When it rains, it pours,” Livia lamented, a smile on her face.
“Aw come on, I can see you like my puns.”
“They are bad, Ryan,” she said, wounding his sensitive heart, “but so bad they
end up being funny anyway.”
Ryan looked at the building. “So what's the plan to get Narcinia out of her
parents’ claws? They won't let her out of sight after the loss of their drug lab.”
“I 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 me a while to see the
ripples you make.”
Her boyfriend's hands tightened on the driving wheel. “Bacchus kept test
subjects in the factory's basement,” he informed her. “One of them died.”
“I saw the possibility,” she said, looking away. “I hoped I was wrong.”
“Will the victim be alive a few days ago?” Ryan asked, his girlfriend nodding
hesitantly. “Then I will strike the factory as soon as the Meta-Gang is dealt with in
the next loop.”
“Narcinia and Bacchus will be inside,” she warned. “It will be far harder.”
“I will manage.” Now that he could destroy Geist and had access to the Bliss
Factory's systems, he could easily shatter the defenses in his next run. “I could
take Narcinia to the Carnival while I'm at it.”
“My father will react badly.”
“I won't give him the time.”
Livia joined her hands, and locked eyes with her boyfriend. “You intend to fight
him,” she said, her voice breaking.
fYesa
Ryan hadn't dared to breach the subject openly, but... he couldn't sugarcoat the
truth. Even though it risked damaging their relationship, Shroud had a point. The
courier liked Livia, but not to the point of letting her father get away with his
crimes. He had to be stopped for the good of everyone else.
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woe
Livia, your father knew about
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Bacchus’ prisoners,” Ryan said. “We
5 , 3
saw that in the factory's terminal. He
did worse than give his consent fie
sent ns pest pblelacims to
réfiri@ his' product. He murdered
arte)
Narcinia's parents and thousands
more. Hell, he chose to settle an old
score rather than help when
Bloodstream threatened to turn
everyone into tomato juice. That
shows how little he cares about life.
’ iif
Your dad won't stop killing, unless
) " :
he's forced to.” The content is on
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chapter there!
“I know!" Her voice broke, the seer closing her eyes and gathering her breath. “I
know that, Ryan. I know what he is. But he has little time already. I have seen it.
Can't... can't you just wait? If we delay enough—"
“When he senses his death approaching, Lightning Butt will go on a rampage
and slaughter countless more.” Ryan remained silent for a few seconds, letting
his girlfriend recover. “Livia, you can't talk him out of his madness.”
“We can,” she said. “With you at my side, I can find it.”
“Livia, I will help as much as I can,” Ryan promised, “but I don’t think words will
work with your dad. Not even yours. If the apocalypse couldn't make him pause,
nothing will.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” she asked, holding back tears. “Give you my
permission to kill my own father? Is that what you want?”
“I don't have to kill your father to neutralize him.”
“Then how? Dynamis and the Carnival tried everything. Nothing worked. Nothing
they have will work. I've seen where it leads.” Her fingers fidgeted on her lap.
“You killed Geist. Somehow.”
“I did.”
“You have something that could kill my father. Or you think it could.”
“Yes,” Ryan admitted.
Livia bit her lower lip, the same way Len did. “Why are you telling me this,
Ryan?”
“Because I trust you.”
There, he said it.
“I trust you.” Ryan took her hands into his own, making her blush slightly. “I want
you at my side. I want to stay with you even after we clean this city up. I want our
relationship to work. I don’t want something built on lies. I've seen where it led
with Safelite and his golden retriever.”
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I ,
That's a mean way to call my best
. wy (ete . :
friend,” Livia replied, her fingers
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tightening around his qwn, I want us
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to NN Ryan Bubs don’t want
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each other. I don't want to see that. I
almost did when he caught you, and...
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I don't think I can shoulder it. Even if
you reverse time afterward. The
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the latest chapter there!
“l.... 1 think I can imprison your dad,” the courier said. “Where no one will break
him out.”
“You will send him to Monaco, or a pocket dimension?” Livia shook her head. “He
will break out. He has Geniuses on his payrolls, loyal lieutenants, contingencies.”
“He won't have that for long.”
“You can't destroy an entire organization by yourself.”
“I can and I did,” Ryan replied. “And I'm not alone this time.”
“Ryan, I know there is a solution. A peaceful solution.” Livia's hands broke away
from his own. “I'm... I'm okay with imprisonment, or forced retirement. But not
death. I'm sick of all these murders and violence. It has to cease somewhere.”
“You're okay with killing Bacchus,” Ryan pointed out, “but not the one giving him
his orders?”
“Bacchus is not family,” Livia replied, fidgeting in her seat. “That's selfish, I know.
I won't deny it. I want to save people, Ryan, but I don't want to see my family
perish either. I don’t want to make that choice. If you had to kill a loved one to
save the world, would you do it?"
“I would find a third option.”
“My point exactly. You said you could do anything if given time, and... and I hope
we can find a third option too.”
Ryan said nothing for a while, as Livia gathered her thoughts. She knew
Augustus had to be stopped, and on some level, she understood there wasn’t a
way to do so peacefully. He could see it on her face.
In the end, she opened her mouth again, her voice a whisper, “Promise me,
Ryan.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you won't kill my father,” Livia said, her face grave and heavy. “Don’t kill
him, please. Or we are done. Drag him off his throne, destroy his kingdom of sin,
imprison him underwater until he expires, I... I can live with that. But don’t kill
him. Please.”
For a tense half a minute, they locked eyes with each other.
If Ryan refused, he would make an enemy of Livia. She cared for her family, as
much as he loved his own friends. Even if he survived the ensuing retribution,
whatever future they could build together would die with Lightning Butt. They
would remain bitter enemies.
Augustus deserved death for his crimes. He might not have been as bad as Big
Fat Adam, but his crimes were almost as horrendous. He had murdered his way
across the world for years, and he remained unrepentant.
And yet... Ryan had lived long enough to know there were punishments far more
terrible than death. It was all a question of imagination.
“I won't kill your father,” Ryan swore, to Livia’s relief, “but I will defeat him.
Decisively. I will break him so thoroughly that he will never threaten anyone else
again.”
The Black Ultimate One had granted him the power to harm Augustus, and the
time-traveler would make use of it.
His girlfriend couldn't help but respond with nervous laughter. “Your last
encounter wasn't glorious.”
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I , .
That's the good thing about me,
princess. I can lose a thousand
. . »
times, but only have to win once.
eal
Ryan looked back iE©manor. A
; N el .
wort kitthien, for you. But I will rough
: p
him up, and he won't escape karma.
He has too much blood on his hands,
and his victims deserve justice. His
3 . r
punishment won't be lethal, but it
J + .
won't be merciful either. Are you
5 i 5
alright with that?" The content is on
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chapter there!
“It's a compromise,” she replied, shaking her head. “None of us get all that we
want.”
Perhaps. But it was better than getting nothing.