The Perfect Run

It was May 14th in New Rome, and a handsome secret agent flew above the
Mediterranean sea.
The wind brushing against his mask and magician's hat, Ryan peeked over his
jetpack to look at Vulcan. The Genius was hot on his trail, piloting her slow, bulky
mech. “Come on, you aren't even trying!” the courier taunted his favorite dwarf
over the intercom. It was the second round of the race, and she couldn't catch up
to him. “Then again, your mom was so slow, it took her nine months to make a
joke!”
“The only slow thing will be your death when I catch up to you!” Vulcan snarled
back as she accelerated, her mech thrumming like a supercharged car. Both
contestants flew so close to the sea level that they blew water in all directions as
they passed.
In spite of her threat though, Ryan maintained a decent lead as they toured
Ischia Island; iron walls and wind turbines surrounded the radioactive dump,
keeping the toxic purple miasma safely contained. Hidden turrets rose from the
shoreline and pointed at the flyers, though their maker prevented them from
opening fire at Ryan on sight.
“Why doesn’t your hat fall off?” Vulcan asked.
“It's magnetized.” It came in handy for someone like Ryan, who favored
acrobatics and explosions in his fights. “Also, you're so slow, you make the post
office look efficient!”
“You're so fast, your girlfriend is always left disappointed.”
Ouch, low bow. This meant war.
“Oh look, a wyvern!” Ryan pointed a finger at an empty spot of water on his left.
To his amusement, Vulcan did cock her head in that direction. “Where?” she
asked, before realizing her mistake. “You bastard, you will die for this!”
Ryan laughed, only for Vulcan to actually open fire with a volley of missiles. The
courier had to freeze time to dodge them all. “You bastard, you cheated!” his rival
complained when time resumed. “We said only tech!”
“I lied!” Ryan cackled like a maniac. “I lied about everything!”
The two contestants finished their tour of the island and came into view of the
Castello Aragonese, that old fortress which Augustus refitted into a Bliss
Superlab. The powerful stone fortress’s walls oversaw the sea from atop a
volcanic islet and a garden of alien plants.
The ghostly skull of Geist appeared for a brief moment above the castle when the
racers approached. A tornado of colored dust carried the house-sized apparition,
and started strong winds slowing down the contestants.
“Come to see me win?!" Ryan shouted as loud as he could, barely dodging a
seagull. Damn bird traffic.
To his surprise, Casper the Ghost apparently listened. “You better,” the specter
replied with a casual voice, though it somehow carried across the waves. “I bet
on you.”
Huh, so not only could that flying skull manifest anywhere on the island, but it
also had sharp senses and could detect people in the area. This ruined Ryan's
original plan, but the courier was nothing if not adaptable.
Geist had bet wisely. For although Vulcan attempted to blast him at the last
second with a crimson beam of light, the courier passed over the fortress first.
There was a coming short joke to make, but Ryan was too tall to make it.
“Damn it!” Vulcan snarled. “Damn it, damn it, damn it! Where did you find that
jetpack?”
In Mechron’s bunker. “In a cave, in a box of scraps.”
“The princess’ wet cave?”
Damn, news traveled fast.
“I took shelter from a thunderstorm inside,” Ryan said, as they began another
turn around the island. “Wait, is tomorrow's meeting about my execution?”
Tomorrow was the Olympians meeting, which should end up with Zanbato
confirmed as the new Mercury. Jamie hadn't organized a welcome party this time
around, perhaps because Ryan had spent most of his time with Livia; and with
nothing to distract her, Vulcan had decided to check up on the Bliss Island's
defenses today.
It cost the courier an A-bomb and advanced technology to get into her good
graces, but the Genius eventually invited him to participate in the inspection.
Truthfully, Ryan suspected Vulcan wanted to impress him with her technology.
She wanted him as a lab assistant, but the courier had defended his
independence and maintained a professional distance. Sort of. He assumed
jetpack races counted as a team-building activity.
“Could be,” Vulcan replied, still sore over her defeat. “How much to spare your
pretty head?”
“An A-bomb?” Ryan haggled. “Bloody or extra crispy?”
“Already got one, and prices are up. I guess you'll die.”
“If they vote yes, can I die buried in pizzas?” Ryan didn't think he had died that
way yet. At least not with four-cheeses. “Or couscous?”
“I can arrange death by waffles,” Vulcan joked back.
Ryan had missed trading jabs with her. He had thought he would find the
inspection agonizing, but to his surprise, he could interact with Vulcan without
experiencing depressing flashbacks now. Perhaps it was his newfound desire to
move on, or his Elixir's advice finally sinking in.
Ryan would always cherish his Jasmine’s memories, like all the relationships
erased by his power, but he no longer lived in its shadow. And neither did the
current Vulcan. He could finally befriend her without comparing her to her past
self.
“No seriously, I blow you a chef's kiss,” Vulcan said, her mech mimicking the
gesture. “I didn't think anyone would be mad enough to make a move on
Augustus’ daughter. You won't live long, but I'll come to your funeral.”
“Eh, going by Casper the Ghost over here, heaven has a revolving door.” Ryan
chuckled. “How did you know?”
Vulcan shrugged. “Some of the staff members saw you kiss Minerva at Venus’
resort, and spread the word. I guess Augustus couldn't kill the leakers fast
enough.”
“I thought paparazzi were an extinct species?”
“Not for a lack of trying, no.” The duo reached the Bliss Superlab again, flying
over the outer walls and towards a helicopter platform. Vulcan's mech caused the
entire fortress to shake as it landed, while Ryan crossed his arms and did his
best to look good as his feet touched the ground.
When they arrived, armored soldiers were busy boarding a group of three armed
helicopters and checking up on their weapons. Bacchus oversaw the operation
with his hands behind his back, while young Narcinia waited alongside him while
holding a flower bouquet.
Ryan couldn't resist examining it, and he didn’t recognize half of the plants.
Some were roses with petals of multiple colors, others fusions of lilies of the
valley and yellow daisies. The colors mixed in a tasteful display for the eyes, and
the smell was almost divine.
“You like it, Quicksave?” Narcinia asked him shyly, her brown hair flowing with
the ocean wind. Her heart-shaped face was so unlike her adopted family, Ryan
wondered why Venus didn’t change it. Perhaps Narcinia’s power interfered with
her adoptive mother’s? “I made it for Mom and Dad!”
She should have added some hemlock and nightshade then. “It's delightful,”
Ryan said from the bottom of his heart. “But do they sing?”
“Sing?”
“You can make any form of life from what I heard, so why not flowers that can
sing?” Ryan asked mirthfully.
“Make them edible, so you have the full sensory package,” Vulcan snickered, her
armor towering over the duo.
“You can't eat flowers!” Narcinia protested. “But singing flowers... that's a nice
idea. I could have them blow colored fumes while they sing too.” She turned to
Bacchus. “What song would you like, Father Torque?”
Andreas Torque, alias Bacchus, turned his gaunt face at his small protégée. His
eyes were as black and lifeless as coal, and Ryan had yet to see him blink. One
could almost see the bones beneath his priestly garbs. All in all, the man
reminded the courier of a walking corpse. “Gregorian chants, to soothe the soul.”
“And Bliss for the fumes, to have a good time?” Vulcan deadpanned. Narcinia
bristled a bit at that, clearly not very proud of working on making drugs.
“Don't listen to him, he’s behind the times,” Ryan told Narcinia. “When in doubt,
choose synthwave.”
“I don’t know that music genre,” Narcinia said. The poor naive child.
“I will teach you, and the meaning of life as well,” the courier replied.
“This reminds me, I will not be available for Venus’ dinner,” Bacchus said with his
soft, calm voice. “I shall return to Ischia after meeting with our fellow Olympians.”
Narcinia didn't hide her disappointment. “My mother won't like it, Father Torque.”
“We are on the verge of a breakthrough, Ceres,” the priest chided her. “Idleness
is the enemy of progress. It is not wise to make God wait.”
“Eh, It's probably vibing in its Blue World,” Ryan said while testing the waters. “It
knows you will reach It in time, like It knows everything else.”
That was a pure bluff and speculation, based on the courier’s knowledge of the
Ultimate Ones, their dimensions, and what Livia had told him. Yet he hit the mark,
for the priest's head snapped in Ryan's direction so fast that the courier worried
he might break his neck.
“Have you reached Heaven?” Bacchus asked, his black eyes peering into Ryan's
soul. The stare’s sheer intensity might have made a younger man crumble to his
feet in penance, but the courier had faced far worse. Still, the priest's presence
made him feel uneasy.
In a way, Bacchus reminded Ryan of Bloodstream. The courier could sense the
madness festering beneath the lucidity. “No, but I'm trying to find a way in.”
“So am 1,” the priest stated with a hint of enthusiasm. It must have been gratifying
to meet someone who validated his beliefs. “I am close.”
“Pray harder,” Vulcan snickered. Clearly, she didn’t think much of the priest's
delusions. “Look, I'm very busy and this security inspection was a waste of my
valuable time. Let's escort you back on the mainland and be done with it.”
“There is no rush,” Bacchus replied calmly, before putting a hand on Narcinia’s
shoulder. “Go climb in the helicopter, I will be with you in a minute.”
“Yes, Father Torque,” the young teen nodded, while Vulcan grumbled.
Bacchus took Ryan aside for a short talk, the two walking along the walls of
Castle Aragonese. The priest didn’t take his eyes off the courier for one second,
examining him with a quizzical look. “Your name is Quicksave, correct?”
“I'm immortal, but don't tell anyone.”
Andreas Torque observed Ryan without a word, studying him. He was probably
trying to remember every tidbit of information he might have had on the courier,
but came up short. He would certainly question the other Olympians at the
meeting and investigate the time-traveler afterward.
“How did you find your faith?” Bacchus asked. “There must be a fascinating story
behind your quest.”
“I have been to Hell before, so I figured I should check out the other place,” Ryan
joked.
“A worthwhile goal, but I require a straight answer.”
Ryan could tell this man could smell falsehoods like Luigi, and he didn’t even
need a power to do so. “Well, Father...” the courier looked around himself as
fearing he would be overhead, before whispering into the priest's ears. “I have
met a local.”
“Alocal?”
“From these higher dimensions.”
Bacchus’ eyes seemed to shine for a brief instant. “How?”
“An Elixir opened the gate for a brief moment.” That was only half a lie too. “A
deity lurked on the other side.”
“It seems we shared similar revelations then.” Bacchus shivered in pleasure, as if
reliving the moment. “I only tasted Heaven once, when I consumed my Elixir, and
I have yearned to return to it ever since.”
Ryan remembered his brief stay inside the Black World, and what Bloodstream
once told him about the “Green Hell’ he had glimpsed in his dreams so many
years ago. Back then, the courier had thought it was mere delusions, but now, he
understood that his adoptive father had observed the Green World.
From what the time-traveler gathered, the colored dimensions exerted a powerful
hold on Genomes. The Ultimate Ones attracted lesser beings to them like a moth
to a flame. The priest must have contacted the Blue Ultimate One, which
permanently affected his mind.
“I have been investigating these higher realms since, Father,” Ryan said, trying to
play on the priest's obsession. “When I saw this deity, I... it was bliss beyond
words. An ascension to a higher state of being.”
“So you understand how I feel.” Bacchus nodded slowly. “To be on the verge of
becoming something more than human, only to be returned to this sinful,
imperfect world... it is maddening.”
“So, I have been researching the Alchemist,” Ryan said, cutting straight to the
chase. “I thought only she might answer my questions. Clearly, she created
Elixirs to establish bridges with gods. To make us divine.”
“That was Eva Fabre’s goal indeed.” The shadow of a smile appeared on
Bacchus’ face. “A true prophet. I mistook her for the devil, but now I see that she
was the Lord's tool on Earth. A visionary. I only met her once, but she left quite
the mark.”
Ryan could see that. “When did you see her?”
“On Last Easter. I had been tracking her for years, back when she was refining
the holy Elixirs for the sake of us all. She vanished after enlightening me.”
“She’s hiding beneath the snow,” Ryan said. “l know she has a base in
Antarctica.”
“Station Orpheon?” Bacchus shook his head. “You are mistaken. We sent people
there and they found nothing. The station has been emptied for more than a
decade, ever since a violet flash was seen above its skies.”
Aviolet flash? If the Alchemist had access to advanced technology, then she
could easily hide a base in a pocket dimension or a similar place. Maybe even
hide it in plain sight. The Augusti didn’t have the means to detect such an
anomaly, but Ryan could probably find an entrance. “Do you have the
coordinates of that pilgrimage site, Father?”
He did, and could quote it from memory. Ryan folded it in a corner of his mind. “If
you wish, I could involve you in our new Bliss strain’s test trials,” Bacchus said.
“This will let us contact God, I can feel it in my bones. This long tribulation is
finally nearing its end.”
“I would rather avoid the sterility that comes with it. I thought God said we should
be fruitful and multiply?”
“That part is Augustus’ will, without which he would not have sponsored the
project,” Bacchus said, though he clearly had no problem with sterilizing a large
part of the population. “God put him on Earth to separate God's chosen from the
unworthy. Not everyone may ascend, and Bliss will sort them out.”
If Ryan had any hesitation left about destroying that lab, the priest just destroyed
them. The courier glanced at the specter of Geist floating above the fortress, his
grinning skull watching the sea. How far could he sense invaders? For the
operation's sake, Ryan hoped that it wasn't much.
“There is little time left to discuss the matter,” Bacchus said, Vulcan gesturing him
to climb inside the helicopter. “But once I am done with more secular matters, we
will delve into the higher mysteries together. I am sure we can help each other.”
Bacchus boarded one of the helicopters at last, the vehicles flying away from the
island with Ryan and Vulcan on their tail. The priest and Narcinia never crossed
the sea without heavy escort, perhaps in case Wyvern or members of Il Migliore
decided to ambush them.
Ryan knew nothing would happen. Though the party at Jamie's place didn’t take
place this time around, the priest and Narcinia had made their way to the meeting
without incident in previous loops. With the Meta-Gang shattered, no one would
interfere.
No one but Ryan.
The courier half-considered having the priest perish in a tragic accident, but he
traveled in the same helicopter as Narcinia. Besides, slaying a priest wouldn't
have been very Catholic.
“Permission to return and laze around at home, Herr General?” Ryan asked
Vulcan over the intercom, as they crossed the sea and the helicopters landed
safely near the old harbor.
“Permission to get out of my sight granted, minion,” Vulcan said, before adding.
“Come check out my lab tomorrow, after the reunion. You're wasted on the field.”
She wouldn't give up on that internship offer. “I'll consider it,” Ryan lied. Vulcan
grunted and flew away, back to her base.
Instead of returning home though, the courier deviated from his course the
moment he was out of sight. He turned his jetpack towards the sea and Ischia
Island, careful to fly low enough to avoid notice by eyes and radars both.
“They're gone,” Ryan said over the intercom. “Where are you?”
“Four hundred meters northeast,” Shortie answered.
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The courier quickly reached the
meeting point, a solitary rock rising
from the sea close to Ischia island.
0 Wy
The Mechron subarigg's Péristope
=
DePtle'n ith par
lqoked e Water, with part of
the tower staying hidden behind the
stone. Shortie and Sarin waited on it
with an enormous suitcase, while
: ,
Ryan noticed the edge of Shroud's
glass armor, as sea droplets hit its
transparent surface. The content is
on Novelxo.org! Read the latest
chapter there!
“Right on time,” Ryan said as he landed on the submarine’s tower and set aside
his jetpack. “It should just be Geist, turrets, and mooks now.”
“Just an invincible ghost and a few hundred men, you mean?” Sarin grumbled
angrily. She hadn't been onboard with the plan, and went along only because
Ryan's Think Tank had made progress on the cure.
“What about the security system?” Shroud asked.
“Vulcan showed me the defensive turrets’ location, but she wouldn't let me inside
the fortress.” The Genius was fond of Ryan, but didn’t fully trust him either. “I do
have information about what's inside, including a map.”
“And all it cost you was sleeping with the enemy?” the invisible vigilante mused.
Indeed, it was Livia who provided them. “Unfortunately, even with your girlfriend's
intel, I cannot hack into Vulcan's security system, or at least not without alerting
her of my attempt. I will need to access terminals inside the fortress.”
“We are taking huge risks, Riri,” Len said. She trusted him enough to follow his
lead, but remained uneasy. “Even without Bacchus, the lab is defended by
soldiers in power armor, automated defenses, Genomes...”
And a ghost. One couldn't forget the ghost.
In the end, Geist was the island's true line of defense, a Genome of incredible
power that almost nobody could harm, let alone kill. But thankfully, the specter
couldn't haunt multiple places at once.
“There won't be a better opportunity,” Ryan argued. “Tomorrow morning, the
Augusti’'s high command will be hours away, too far away to intervene.”
“A night is a long time,” Sarin said grimly.
“You said you could reform in that time,” Len pointed out.
“I should, since these fucking turbines blow gas within the island and condense
it,” Sarin replied angrily. “But I still hate it. If you don’t give me back my suit
afterward, I'm killing you myself.”
“See the bright side. When you've opened a breach, you'll get your own power
armor,” Ryan reassured her, before opening the briefcase and looking at his own
suit.
The Augusti knew Quicksave... but they didn't know Saturn.
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8)
Ryan hoped that Sarin’s presence
would deceive Mob Zeus, make him
believe the Meta-Gang were still
active and sabotagiggjs Gperations.
he
Livigwddighe! p sell her father the lie,
giving the group some precious
respite before Lightning Butt
inevitably tracked them down. After
the loss of his superlab, he would
stop at nothing to find the
responsible party. The content is on
Novelxo.org! Read the latest
chapter there!
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Len helped her best friend put on the
Saturn armor, Ryan delighting as she
draped a cashmere poncho on his
shoulder. The courier had used the
data gathered in thep(@yiots Toop to
improve be bi ;
INIDQY h power armors
design, replacing the chest cannon
. re . . )
with a modified variant of Adam's
gravity rifle, improving the flight
systems, and reinforcing the parts
which Lightning Butt had managed to
breach. The courier also invested
heavily in radiation and heat
shielding, in preparation for a new
confrontation with Fallout. The
content is on Novelxo.org! Read
the latest chapter there!
He had forgotten to add a proton pack though, which would have come in handy
with Geist.
Once the armor was operational, Ryan activated his power. Time froze to a halt,
black and purple particles floating around the courier. A violet ghost raced after
him, his past self trying to catch up to the present.
Ryan immediately noticed something new.
“There's more than before.”
One loop ago, the Black Flux particles were nothing but black spots among
fireworks of purple. Ryan had to focus to notice them. Now they had turned into a
small oil spill on a violet sea.
His Black Power, whatever it was, had grown stronger.
How? Did it leech off some of Fallout's radioactive energies during their last
confrontation? Darkling could remember things across multiple loops, so Black
Flux probably ignored the usual rules of Ryan's time travel. Or perhaps it had fed
on the previous loop’s destruction? In this case, each reset should strengthen the
ability.
What did it even do? If it could damage Lightning Butt, could it do the same with
Geist? Could it kill the unkillable?
“I wish I could have Darkling on speed dial,” Ryan complained as time resumed.
“Is everyone ready?”
The plan was for Sarin to infiltrate the island in gaseous form, which would
confuse even Geist, and then sabotage key defenses during the night. Ryan and
Co would then attack the lab on the next day while Lightning Butt held court,
scrambling communications to prevent the Augusti from calling for help.
If all went well, Ryan might repeat the operation in his Perfect Run.
“Almost,” Shroud said, turning visible while looking at the open sea. “A friend
insisted on coming when I said we were chasing ghosts.”
A friend? From the Carnival? Ryan didn't hide his skepticism. “Trust me, if
Lightning Butt sees Sunshine anywhere near his mountain, then it will be New
Rome's last sunrise.”
“Leo is hunting the other Mechron bases as we speak, though the teammate in
question is twice as flamboyant.”
Flamboyant?
Ryan's heart skipped a beat, as he looked at the sea with hope. Could it be?
Could it be?
His maddest prayers were soon answered, as a ray of crimson light racing on the
water itself. Only a man capable of stopping time could witness the pure
perfection of a human-shaped laser racing across the sea, as fast as light itself.
In the blink of an eye, the newcomer had crossed the sea and stopped within a
few inches of the child he had saved many years ago. Unlike Ryan, the man
hadn't changed across the centuries, his body a solid wavelength, his suit perfect
in its vibrant colors and tasteful elegance.
“Jesus could walk on water,” the man said, “but only because he learned that
trick from..."
Ryan held his breath, as his favorite superhero put his hands on his waist,
showing the purity of his showy, bright cashmere suit.
“Mr. Wave!”
Ryan squeed like a rabid fangirl, much to his team’s embarrassment.