The Perfect Run

Ryan thought this run would have been an Augusti one. Joining the mafia
organization, climbing the ranks, perhaps challenging the Big Thunder Man for
his daughter's hand.
But as he prepared to assault the Bliss Factory with a ragtag band of misfits at
his back, Ryan understood he had been mistaken. This run was a hidden, yet
unexplored route.
The Carnival route.
Ryan and Shroud floated far above the Bliss Factory, hidden inside a cloud; the
former carried by his armor’s propellers, the other by his own power. Len waited
under the waves for an amphibious assault, while Mr. Wave and Sarin would
soon fall in position.
“They will know it's us,” Shroud complained, barely visible. “The Carnival. I
shouldn't have told Mr. Wave about this operation, that weirdo won't listen to
reason.”
Ryan gently slapped his translucent friend on the helmet, to his surprise. “What
was that for?” the vigilante asked.
“You don't diss Mr. Wave in my presence,” the courier replied. “If he wishes to
strike fear in Lightning Butt's heart, it is his divine right and we shall indulge him.”
“Wait, didn’t he save your life?” Shroud scoffed. “I should have known he
influenced you. The cashmere obsession was a telltale sign.”
Ryan loved cashmere like any sensible human being, but Mr. Wave did open his
eyes about its splendor. The courier’s first loops mostly revolved around the
superhero saving him from an explosion, again and over again, shielding the
time-traveler from flames with his soft wool suit.
The original plan was to blame the Meta-Gang for the attack, but while Mr. Wave
had agreed to change his clothes, he simply traded his flamboyant suit for a
black tuxedo and scaled boots. “They will know it's you, Wave,” Shroud had
complained, somewhat rightly. “You aren't even hiding your face.”
“Mr. Wave is wearing an evil suit,” his dashing teammate had protested. “It is
black, the underclothes were made in China, and the socks were woven with
linen.”
Ryan had looked at his hero in shock and outrage. “That's a war crime!”
“Indeed. So Mr. Wave surrounded them with tasteful alligator boots, to soften the
blow. Like putting a flower on a Kalashnikov's barrel.”
“Why are you using the third person?” Len had asked.
“First-person cannot properly contain the power of Mr. Wave's name.”
Though Len had giggled, probably because she had grown used to Ryan's own
antics, the rest of the team didn't get it. “Is yours always like this?” Shroud had
asked Sarin, as she removed her hazmat suit to let her gaseous form out.
She had snickered in response. “You think there's more of them?”
“I pray not.”
“Wardrobe,” Ryan had said, dashing all their hopes and dreams.
“I've heard of this Wardrobe,” Mr. Wave had finished. “Our meeting will be
legendary, but Mr. Wave doubts the world will survive it.”
Afterward, Sarin had let her gaseous body flow through the wind turbines
surrounding Ischia Island, causing a few dysfunctions. Geist had sensed her
presence and left the fortress, but didn’t know what to look for amidst all the toxic
gases.
Still, as Ryan observed the golden skull flickering in and out of existence around
the island, he wondered how far the Yellow Genome'’s powers extended. Casper
the Ghost could clearly sense Sarin somewhere on the island, though she had no
corporeal body. Did he sense her soul? Did people actually have souls? But if so,
why couldn't he sense Ryan and Shroud in the air?
This reminded Ryan of Monaco. Yellow Genomes usually had conceptual limits,
reasoning in terms of abstract laws rather than scientific rules. Perhaps Geist
could only detect people who technically set foot on his haunting ground, or
something like that.
In any case, with the ghost busy and the Olympians holding their meeting, the
Bliss Factory was temporarily without its main defenders. Now was the time to
strike.
The assault began with a metal monster rising from the waves and landing on the
shore.
With full access to Mechron’s armory, Ryan wasn't the only one who upgraded
his technology. Len had also exchanged her power armor for a new one, to
reduce the risk of being identified. Her second mech was as bulky as Vulcan's,
and reminded Ryan of Cthulhu, with inorganic tentacled whips where the face
should be. The hands finished with mighty crab pincers, and the armor’s blue
paint job made it near undetectable in the water. The alien design was unlike
anything Len ever built, and took more inspiration from Mechron’s own creations.
She immediately opened fire on the fortress with shoulder torpedos, collapsing
huge chunks of the outer walls. Vulcan's turrets, the few which Sarin couldn't
sabotage without bringing attention upon herself, immediately opened fire. Ryan
blasted them from above with his chest gravity-gun, black spheres collapsing
space around them and crushing the weapons. Shroud also discreetly sabotaged
the glass and silica components within the machines, causing severe
malfunctions.
With the automated defenses down, Augusti guards in riot gear swarmed the
walls still standing, while their allies in red, padded steampunk armor emerged
from the main gates to intercept Len. Ryan recognized the latter as Vulcan's corp
of Pyrokinetic Genomes, their equipment turbocharging their powers. They
tossed car-sized fireballs at Len, causing her outer shielding to heat up.
Ared blur crossed the sea at blinding speed, hitting an Augusti Genome so hard
that he crashed halfway through a stone wall.
“Mr. Wave will set his foot down,” Mr. Wave proudly announced his presence,
hands raised to the skies, “and it will be in someone's face!”
Ryan couldn't help but fanboy over his idol, and squealed loud enough to cause
guards to look up. “You idiot, you alerted them to our position!” Shroud
complained before flying away, fully turning invisible and waiting for an
opportunity to infiltrate the fortress. Ryan himself shrugged off gunshots. His
armor could resist punches from Augustus and Fallout, so bullets bounced off his
armor.
The chilling, ghostly wind in the air though, was a greater source of concern.
Ryan barely had the time to fly to his left and avoid a rock the size of his car
falling on his head. A glittering tornado of colored, supernatural dust manifested
in its wake, a ghostly golden skull materializing above the fortress.
“What is all this racket?” Geist asked, though he didn’t sound concerned at all. If
anything, he sounded bored as he oversaw the battlefield. An automated torpedo
flew out of the water and landed on the island, with Sarin’s power armor held
within. “Who are you, guys?”
Ryan almost introduced himself as Saturn, before deciding it wasn't a powerful
enough title. “King Saturn,” he introduced himself, his armor modifying his voice.
Time to abandon democracy for the divine right to rule!
“You can't call yourself Saturn,” Casper the ghost replied, while telekinetically
lifting broken remnants of the fortress’ outer wall. “I think my organization has a
copyright on Roman names.”
“King Saturn!” Ryan activated his chest weapon. “With a capital “K'"
His gravity projectile went harmlessly through Geist, not even fazing him. The
specter replied with a rain of stones, each powerful enough to crush a tank.
Since the courier was wary of overusing his time-stop lest his fighting style be
recognized, he had to make circles around the attacks.
“A ghost?” Mr. Wave asked on the ground, holding an Augusti guard above the
ground by the throat. “Are you one of Mr. Wave's victims?”
“No,” Geist replied, as he telekinetically tossed more projectiles at Ryan. Other
chunks he moved back in place to replace the outer walls, dealing with the
assault with no more enthusiasm than a middle-manager filling his taxes.
“Give it time, you will be.”
“If 1 kill you will it count as murder, since you're already dead?” Ryan mocked the
specter before flying through him. He expected to inflict damage like with
Augustus, but instead, he harmlessly phased through Geist's ethereal skull. The
specter responded by telekinetically slamming him to the beach below, Ryan's
helmet ending him face-first buried into the sand.
“Oh, he fell down,” Geist noted, with a hint of amusement. “Did it hurt?”
This confirmed it. Ryan's secondary power only worked during the time-stop.
The courier quickly guessed why. His power worked by aligning Earth's reality
with the Purple World, itself a crossroads between all of space and time; the
crossroad through which he could draw energy from the Black World.
A mighty crimson shockwave hit the Bliss Factory while Ryan rose back up,
causing the entire castle to shake and a barbican to collapse. Stones crushed
Narcinia’s flowers near the fortress, and a hole opened to the chambers inside.
“Aw man, Ceres won't like that,” Geist commented with a bored tone, while
Ryan's heat sensors informed him Shroud used the opportunity to slip inside the
fortress. Though the specter hastily repaired the destroyed curtain walls, the
invisible vigilante had already slipped in.
The courier looked at the blast's source, a woman in an orange synthetic suit
lined with strong crimson metal plates. The helmet resembled a mix between a
gas mask and a knight's helmet, while the gauntlets radiated crimson light.
Sarin had put on her own power armor.
Created in Mechron’s labs with data harvested over the previous loop, the suit
was specifically insulated to resist the wearer's own rusting power. It also spread
her shockwave power through her entire body; when guards rained bullets at her
chest, they flattened instead of inflicting lethal wounds.
“Not so easy to harm me anymore, eh, jackasses?!” Sarin gloated, before raising
her hands and shattering a pyrokinetic Genome in power armor. “It's payback
time!”
“Look, I really hate working and I ain't paid for this job,” the ghost said with the
laziest voice possible, expanding the colored dust supporting his ectoplasmic
skull. A glittering storm the size of a tornado soon surrounded the castle, forming
an impenetrable wall around it. “Could you just, you know, go away? Or we could
play Board & Conquest, if you're up for it.”
“If you hate your job, why don’t you let us in?” Sarin snarled while sending a
shockwave at the colored storm. The blast failed to get past the defense, and
Ryan realized that Geist drew the strange substance from the Yellow World. The
twisted storm blew sand in all directions, expanding the beach’s size.
“Father Torque promised to find a way to exorcise me back to Heaven if I kept the
place clean, and I don’t know any other priest. I'm kinda bound to that island, so I
don't have an active social life.” Geist observed each member of Ryan's team in
turn. “Is one of you a priest, by any chance?”
“Mr. Wave has a Rabbi license.” The Genome in question leaped into the air and
transformed into a laser, aiming straight for Geist’s ghoulish face. “And he will cut
you like Solomon!”
Geist telekinetically stopped Mr. Wave in midair, the red Genome reverting back
to his original form. “I'm Christian, so you're out of luck,” the ghost said before
throwing Mr. Wave into the sea. “Unlife is unfair.”
“Don't tell me,” Ryan said while returning to the skies.
Geist let out a loud sound that could pass for a shrug, and his skull changed
shape. Two ginormous golden bone arms and a rib cage formed below it,
supported by the colored tornado protecting the Bliss Factory. The specter had
turned into a colossus, and his hands lunged for Ryan.
“Wait, you can shapeshift?” Ryan protested as he did his best to avoid the
colossus’ hands. “Why didn’t you do it against Dynamis?”
“Dynamis?” Geist asked, confused. He attempted to crush the flying courier like a
bug with all the motivation of an exhausted desk jockey. “I can do pretty much
anything a ghost can, which is a surprising lot. I wish it included moving out
though.”
That Ghostbusters ad was the Yellow version of Leo Hargraves. Ryan shuddered
to think what the specter could do, if he wasn't limited to his haunting ground and
had any motivation whatsoever. If he had any killer instinct, Geist would have
realized that he could telekinetically crush people rather than toss them away.
Sarin and Len attempted to support Ryan, the former with shockwaves, the other
with torpedoes. Neither seemed any more effective against the colossus’ golden
arms than water guns against a statue. Mr. Wave raced back to the island on
foot, a crimson dash turning water to steam in his wake. He tried to cross the
tornado barrier around the Bliss Factory, only to be thrown back as if he had hit a
forcefield.
“Okay, you've done it,” Geist said, his tone markedly more annoyed. “Ever
watched The Mummy?”
“1932 or 1999?" Ryan asked, before realizing what the specter had in mind. “Uh
oh, 1999.”
The beach below the flying courier began to shift and twist, forming waves like a
raging sea. Len and Sarin were buried beneath them, alongside most of the
defeated guards, while Mr. Wave had to run away in laser form.
The beach then started to rise, a sand tsunami forming at Geist's will. The higher
Ryan flew, the taller the wave.
“You know, I never tried to see how high I could raise it up,” Casper the ghost
said, amused by Ryan's attempt to escape. By now the sand wall had risen
higher than the Bliss Factory and emptied the shore of sand. The courier hoped
his allies’ power armors could shield them from the inevitable impact.
“Alright, Imhotep, I'm sending you back to the nineties!” Ryan swirled around
Geist's arms, bypassed them, and then went straight for the skull. “Teeth first!”
“I'm kinda dead already,” Geist said, unimpressed. He didn’t even bother to cover
his skull with his giant hands, so confident was he in his immortality. “Even
Cancel and Pluto couldn't put me six feet under for good.”
“In that case, you force me to use my full power,” Ryan said, raising his fists.
“Now I have to use my hands!”
The time traveler froze time right as his gauntlet reached Geist's skull, but only
for a split second. A trail of dark particles trailed from his fingers like a falling
star's tail as the world turned purple, a black meteor striding across the skies. An
unstoppable force hitting an intangible object.
And as Ryan's metal fingers connected with the specter, he felt resistance.
When time resumed, Geist's golden skull flickered, black cracks appearing where
Ryan hit him. The tornado of glittering dust that supported it weakened for an
instant, and the telekinetic force that raised the sand tsunami failed.
Tons of sand collapsed onto the ground around the fortress in a cataclysmic
crash. A cloud of dust spread over the island and the sea, to the point that Ryan
couldn't see anything within it. Some of the sand found its way to the fortress,
tainting its strong walls yellow.
“You...” Geist's gaze of ghostly light turned to Ryan in shock, his giant arms
falling down like a stringless puppet. “You hit me!”
“Vade Retro Satanas!” Ryan said. Below, the dust had died down and Sarin
propelled herself out of her sand prison with a shockwave. Mr. Wave reappeared
from the island and started moving around the beach at high speed, perhaps
looking for the buried Len. “Or you will see the back of my hand again!”
“You harmed me..." A strange colored substance fell from the skull's eye sockets,
a liquid version of the glistening dust Geist left in his wake. “You harmed me...”
He was... he was crying? Ryan felt bad for a moment, before realizing there was
no sorrow in the ghost's voice.
These were tears of joy.
“Finally!” Geist shapeshifted once more, his arms and rib cage vanishing. The
colored tornado that shielded Castle Aragonese vanished, leaving the Bliss
Factory defenseless. What guards the team hadn't beaten, the ghost's sand
tsunami had crushed. “Go ahead, send me back to heaven! Rip my ectoplasm
open, my soul is ready!”
Normally, Ryan had no problem hitting his foes, but something in the specter’s
voice made him hesitate. He stopped time and lightly slapped the specter’s skull,
who moaned as time resumed. The courier shuddered.
“Why won't you kill me, you selfish tease?” Geist snarled, when his foe didn’t
dare strike him a third time.
“Stop, you're..." Ryan looked away. “You're making it awkward.”
“Do you want to make me beg? Is that what you want?”
“If you take pleasure in it, it robs me of mine,” Ryan said, grossed out. “I'm all for
euthanasia, but this one feels dirty.”
“I have waited fifteen years!” Geist's skull complained while moving in the
couriers field of vision, forcing Ryan to acknowledge him. “Fifteen years as a
ghost, unable to move on! Can you fathom how boring it is, to keep watch of this
toxic dump? Nobody ever visits, except for work!”
The discussion made Ryan uneasy. “Look, I understand the downsides of
immortality, more than you think,” the courier said, trying to find the right words.
“But do you really wish to die for good? It's not a decision to take lightly.”
If he truly wished to perish, Ryan would put the ghost to rest in his Perfect Run.
But when his Violet Elixir presented him with a similar conundrum, the courier
chose life over death. He didn’t want to go through with that option unless the
poltergeist was absolutely sure of his decision.
“Are you serious right now?” Geist snorted. “Would you want to be a ghost bound
to one place, completely intangible?”
“I'm sure there are ways around that limit,” Ryan replied. “And you got
phenomenal cosmic powers out of the deal. You could probably go toe-to-toe
with Augustus if you wished.”
Geist remained silent a few seconds, but the courier’s words clearly didn’t reach
him. “What use is power if you can't enjoy life?” he asked. “I can’t taste, I can't
touch, I can't sleep or dream. I can't have kids and there aren't enough games to
fill my time with. I can lift things with my mind, but they don’t feel warm. The world
is cold to me, tin can. It's unbearable, half a life.”
On the ground, Ryan noticed Sarin and Mr. Wave lifting Len from under the sun.
His former vice-president listened to the discussion with rapt attention, probably
because it struck home.
“I've tasted Heaven and peace, only to be yanked back to Earth,” Geist said. “I
died years ago, but I can’t rest. All I can do is kill time. Unless you can raise me
from the dead?”
“That's beyond my power at the moment,” Ryan admitted. “But maybe in the
future?”
“Yeah, and maybe I'll still be rotting on this island while the sun swallows the
Earth. I've waited for Father Torque to find a solution for years, and “maybe’
stayed “maybe.’ I'll take my chances. Fifteen years as a ghost was fifteen years
too many.”
Ryan still hesitated, so Sarin complained from the ground below. “Just finish him
off already!” she said. “He ain't strong enough to carry on, let him go.”
“Do you want me to fight back?” Geist asked in despair. “Is that what it will take? I
don’t want to go there, mate, but I will if needed.”
“Alright, alright, I will do it!” Ryan said, highly disappointed. He closed his eyes,
tightened his fist, and prepared to get on with it. “Don’t make a sound.”
“Hallelujah,” Geist replied, waiting for the end peacefully. “Heaven at long last.
Thanks.”
Ryan froze time again, and punched the strange ghost with all his might. His
blackened fist tore through Geist's intangible body, black particles consuming the
ectoplasmic substance like a black hole with stardust.
When time resumed, the blow had split Geist's spectral body in half. The golden
skull's substance seemed to lose cohesion, snow melting under the warm sun to
turn into droplets. The ghost dissipated, his immortality canceled. Below, Sarin
unleashed a sustained shockwave at the castle, destroying the barbican which
Geist had repaired a few minutes earlier. Mr. Wave immediately entered through
the hole at lightspeed.
As he floated in the skies alone in solemn silence, Ryan remembered his brief
stay in the Black World. The time traveler had prayed for an end to his
immortality, a way out of his eternal existence... and the Ultimate One had
obliged. It had given the time traveler the ability to harm the invulnerable, to kill
those who couldn't die.
Even Ryan himself.
In the end, a president's best friend was the oil he mined along the way.
Ryan would have loved to say that after Geist's demise, the Bliss Factory's
troops made an epic last stand to protect their drug batches. The courier
expected to waste at least an hour to conquer the factory.
It took fourteen minutes.
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Shroud, who infiltrated the fortress
during the battle, had reached a
terminal and hacked into the
: : oe
factory's systems, Withesebbity
i
codes giver by ie he opened all
the doors and scrambled outside
communications. Mr. Wave simply
toured the factory at the speed of
light, and finished piling up two
hundred unconscious guards by the
time the rest of the group entered.
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“Ugh, and here I thought you would leave some for us,” Sarin complained.
“You can find a list of Mr. Wave's enemies under the “extinct species’ category,”
the man boasted, his tuxedo unblemished. “Mr. Wave does not kill, he
exterminates.”
Before such wit, Ryan felt like a student in the presence of a master.
They advanced into the Castle Aragonese’s corridors and made their way to the
Bliss labs within. In stark contrast with the ancient walls outside, the Augusti had
reinforced the inner structure with steel walls and blast doors. Sarin broke down
the few that Shroud didn’t open for them.
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Eventually, the group made its way to
ip,
the facility's core, and the center of
Bliss production. Bacchus developed
his beloved drug in underground.
warehouses below thé fortress, and
eye Rya found the size of the
operation mind-blowing. A vast glass
garden housed the plants producing
f 5
the drug's raw material, strange
flowers with light blue petals and
yellow cores. A small army of
workers in hazmat suits harvested
the petals, with the plants regrowing
their missing bits in minutes. The
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Afterward, the petals were drenched
in oil, dried, and turned into a blue
powder mixed with other chemicals.
The resulting ee deli
throug haytpmatecin where a
skrdil army of robotic arms put Bliss
in small canisters and hypodermics,
filling entire crates each hour. From
the quantity assembled, Ryan
estimated the operation produced
multiple tons of Bliss per day. Hell,
Ao :
the factory's incinerator worked full
5 Sitio 7
time to eliminate the process’ waste.
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Most of the installation was automated, and Len kept the few remaining workers
at torpedo-point, hands behind their heads. “What's happening?” Ryan heard
Vulcan's voice come out of a computer, while Shroud typed on its keyboard. “I
received an alarm twenty minutes ago.”
“It was nothing, ma'am,” Shroud replied, disguising his voice. “Psychos tried to
raid the factory, but Geist and your security system sent them packing.”
“Of course they did,” Vulcan scoffed on the other end of the line, too proud of
herself by half. “I told you an inspection was a waste of time.”
“It was, ma'am. It was.” Shroud ended the communication and looked up from his
panel. “I've downloaded the production data and deleted the camera footage.
Let's torch this place.”
“Oh yeah.” Sarin eagerly blasted the glass gardens and the plants within. The
vibrations snapped the alien flowers in half, and the Psycho soon moved on to
the assembly lines.
“Mr. Wave is quite happy.” His idol patted Ryan in the back as they observed the
destruction. “He was worried you would grow up the wrong way, and that he
would have to put you down like an old yeller. But you became a man of refined
taste and great skill.”
“Thanks to your example.” After saving him so many times, Mr. Wave had left a
powerful impression on Ryan.
“What were you up to in all these years?” Mr. Wave asked. “Mr. Wave tried to
look for you a few times, but you never seemed to spend long in one place.”
“I conquered Monaco, won a town at a poker competition, and got an alien to
autograph my Necronomicon.”
“Nice. In his case, Mr. Wave traveled to Tibet and explored the great mysteries of
the cosmos. Did Mr. Wave create the world when he was born, or was the world
made for Mr. Wave? Is it possible that the only gravity is the one produced by Mr.
Wave's charisma?”
“How can you stand this guy?” Sarin asked Shroud over the sound of her
shockwaves.
“Only in small doses,” the glass manipulator replied.
“Mr. Wave understands. Prolonged exposure to Mr. Wave can cause a
pathological desire to worship him, or near-death experiences. There is no
middle ground.”
“Instead of standing by, there's something you could help with,” Shroud said,
after destroying computer parts with his power. “Bacchus has a secret testing
area and... you will understand when you see it.”
Ryan did, to his horror.
Shroud let him and Mr. Wave deeper inside the facility, into a secret room behind
a cold metal corridor. It was dimly lit, with most of the area kept in complete
darkness. Ryan walked inside first, his steps echoing on the iron floor. He saw
iron bars flickering in the dim light, and his heat sensors sending more than three
dozen signatures.
Though his armor’s helmet filtered the air, the stench of human filth overwhelmed
it.
The livestock pens were so small, that Ryan was certain they had been meant for
pigs. They were piled up on each other like a tetris game, but there was nothing
amusing about the sight. As his allies remained eerily silent, Ryan activated his
armor’s lamps and looked through the nearest iron bars.
Humans.
Three humans shared a cage so small, they couldn't rise up on their feet. They
must have crawled inside. The veins and lips of the captives had turned blue
from Bliss overdoses, their skin so white and their flesh so thin that the courier
could see the bones beneath. Two men and a woman. The cages hadn't been
cleaned up in a while, some excrements piling up in a corner.
Though he had looped for centuries, Ryan hadn't grown numb to such sights.
Examining the captives filled him with revulsion, doubly so as he looked at the
other cages, counting the people imprisoned within.
Twenty-three, he thought, stopping at a man whose eyes a swarm of flies had
devoured. One dead.
“Does Narcinia know?” Ryan asked. “Does Vulcan know?”
“No, I don't think so,” Shroud said. “Only Bacchus could access that part of the
lab.”
The mad priest used these people to test his experimental Bliss strains,
destroying people’s minds in an insane attempt to contact the Blue Ultimate One.
These people were the most recent batch of “volunteers, addicts taken off the
streets, or perhaps enemies of Augustus sacrificed to his horrendous drug
wizard.
How many people had died within these walls, their corpses dumped in the
incinerator?
“That...” Mr. Wave seemed at a loss of words, waving his hand at the prisoners.
Their eyes didn't follow his movements, their gaze empty. “I... Mr. Wave thinks
someone scrambled their brain.”
Ryan had his helmet take pictures of the scene, and then ripped open the
nearest pen. His armored hands bent the iron cages open. Shroud immediately
grabbed the captive within, a woman no older than twenty. Blue mold grew over
her skin, and blood had dried beneath her eyes.
Ryan walked out of the area while carrying two people on his shoulders,
watching at the ruins of the production lines. Flames had started to spread, and
threatened to engulf the underground facilities. Sarin had demolished them all
and oversaw her work with a pleased stance, while Len evacuated the workers.
“Bianca?” the courier asked.
“What?” Sarin snapped back.
“Once we're done evacuating, collapse the whole place,” Ryan said, his tone
dangerous. “Bury it.”
Ryan would destroy the factory himself in his Perfect Run.
With Bacchus inside.