The Perfect Run

“—Dynamis’ stock price has steadily crumbled since the disturbing revelations about their Knockoff Elixirs, and public outcry from former clients who recently lost their expensively-purchased powers,” the newscaster said on the hospital room’s TV.

Ryan squinted, as a video of Alphonse Manada’s explosion appeared behind the anchorwoman. The quality was terrible, probably due to radiation interferences, though one could see Wyvern and Enrique flying towards the blast’s source.

“—Dynamis’ spokesperson confirmed that Alphonse Manada, alias Fallout, was responsible for the explosion that shook the old harbor. The reasons for this action remain obscure for now, though Wyvern affirmed that the now former vice-president is now safely out of commission—”

The next images then showed the cyborg’s ejection into space. Only Ryan and Livia’s armors had been caught on tape, with the latter’s face and identity remaining mercifully hidden.

“The new acting Chairman, Enrique ‘Blackthorn’ Manada, promised a full indemnity to the victims of both incidents and a public trial to judge the responsible. His actions have so far been met with division among staff— ”

“I still can’t believe they came clean,” Mathias said, sitting on a chair near the window with his arms crossed. Ryan himself occupied the seat closest to Livia’s bed, Henriette snoring at his feet while Eugène-Henry unilaterally decided to occupy his lap. The courier had traded his damaged Saturn armor for his stylish suit, at least until he could repair it. “I thought they would at least sugarcoat the truth, not… spill everything to the press.”

“It was necessary,” Livia replied, wearing a white gown and bandages around her forehead. Braindead’s operation had prevented brain damage from her close brush with Fallout, but it would take her a few days to recover. “You cannot learn from your mistakes without owning up to them. Enrique understood that, and Wyvern all the more.”

After the battle with Fallout, Enrique had the group transported to Dynamis’ hospital, with Stitch and Alchemo tending to their wounds. Thankfully, Ryan’s evacuation warning had borne fruit, and though some locals had been wounded when Alphonse detonated himself, nobody had perished. The Perfect Run had been preserved.

At least, for the moment.

“Waves of resignations continue after Il Migliore’s disbandment,” the newscaster continued. “Though Wyvern promised that a, I quote, ‘clean and nonprofit law enforcement organization’ would take its place, the fate of many heroes remain uncertain—”

Ryan deactivated the TV. “How long before thunder strikes?” he asked his girlfriend.

“Not long,” she admitted, looking away through the windows and the veil of time both. “Things are moving quicker than I expected. Vulcan has already left the Augusti. My father learned of Wyvern’s visit and has ordered her death.”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. “Is she going to make it?”

To his relief, Livia answered with a nod. “Thankfully, Vulcan was no fool and spied on my father’s communications.”

“It doesn’t bode well if he’s already purging his own ranks though,” Mathias said with a frown.

The seer nodded slowly. “Fallout’s defeat and Hector’s arrest have him on edge.”

“If it’s too good to be true, it probably is?” Ryan guessed.

“Yes. He will make a push to take over New Rome, but he is smelling a trap.” Livia sighed. “His forces will move into Rust Town anytime soon… and if left to their own devices, they will find the bunker.”

“I will repair the Saturn armor one last time, and destroy the base,” Ryan replied, rising from his seat. Eugène-Henry immediately leapt from his lap to Livia’s. “Looking Glass, you gather the others. Livia, you stay here.”

“I won’t,” she replied, biting her lip. “Uncle Neptune will soon pick me up to take me to Sorrentos. My father won’t let me stay in a Dynamis hospital while he’s plotting their destruction.”

Mathias frowned, but shrugged. “Well, we have prepared for the attack for days. We can do it without you.”

“I wish I could supervise the assault,” Livia said with regret. “To make sure it goes well.”

“You could supervise it from afar,” Mathias pointed out. “My mother did that with the Carnival, and it worked very well for them.”

The fact that he was willing to relinquish command to Livia at all surprised Ryan. The courier guessed that watching her take wounds in an attempt to protect New Rome from Fallout helped build trust between them.

“My uncle won’t let me out of his sight.” Livia joined her hands, while Eugène-Henry nuzzled her fingers. “I… I will try to find an opening.”

“No,” Ryan insisted. “If Braindead says you should rest, then you will. If you don’t, he’s likely to put your brain in a jar, and you truly don’t want that.”

Livia pouted. “Ryan, I can’t stand back while you and the others risk their lives cleaning up my family’s messes.”

“You helped us clean our own with Bloodstream, and the Meta-Gang too,” Mathias replied. “To each their turn.”

Livia frowned, and refused to stay idle. “I can at least make some calls. This will be a game of rock-paper-scissors, and I can bring more counters to the table.”

Ryan squinted. “Did you set up everything so that we would have the perfect people assembled for the job?”

She answered with a sly, foxy grin. “I would be a poor seer if I didn’t.”

“I love it when you’re in a mastermind mode, pulling strings from the shadows...”

“All is going according to plan.” Her smile faltered. “I hope.”

Ryan glanced at his translucent friend. “Matty, can you leave us for a second?”

“I will brief the others,” the vigilante replied, before taking the door.

Livia exchanged a heavy glance with her boyfriend. “Ryan, after destroying the island…” She cleared her throat. “You’re going immediately after him, aren’t you? Alone?”

“Yes.” If Lightning Butt didn’t come for his head first. Ryan expected the madman to get off his mountain after watching Ischia Island go down in smoke. “It will be alright. I won’t kill him.”

“It’s not for his life I fear for. You can’t save.”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Ryan asked with a smirk that didn’t reach the ears. “I’m immortal.”

“Don’t joke about this!”

Her startling reaction took her boyfriend aback and woke up Henriette. Livia closed her eyes, but failed to suppress tears forming at the edge. She took a deep breath as the dog started licking her fingers to console her, and sobbed.

“Ryan, the man I love is about to go fight my father. And one of them might not come back.” When she opened her eyes again, Ryan could see the fear and dread in them. “Either he will kill you and you may not restart, or you risk permanently landing a killing blow. And I can’t do anything to prevent it.”

“Livia…” Ryan began.

She didn’t let him finish. “I know you’re trying to comfort me, tell me it’s alright, but it’s not. Ryan, your sister just euthanized her father, and Enrique Manada arrested his own before banishing his brother into space. Even if both hoped it would end otherwise… they accepted that it couldn’t. While I… I still can’t, Ryan.”

Ryan listened in respectful silence, letting her say what weighed on her mind. Instead of answering with words, he sat on the bed and gently wiped away the tears.

“I’m scared, Ryan,” she confessed, taking his hands into her own and squeezing his fingers. “I’m scared because I’ve seen how it could end, but not how it will. I… I thought I wanted to be surprised, but… not like this.”

“Livia, do you remember what you told me at the restaurant the other night?” Ryan asked, trying to reassure her. “That the Ultimate One guided us together, and that I should carry on to see what it had in store. Even if I couldn’t save.”

“I said that,” Livia admitted, sighing. “I thought I could shoulder the doubt back then, but now…”

She had wanted to reassure him. To tell him it would be okay, that it would turn out alright, the same way he tried to comfort her before.

“Ryan, if you can’t save… if you feel your life is in danger, in real danger, flee.”

“I can’t, Livia.” Not his style. “After the destruction of his island, your Thundering Daddy will shock everyone he can get his metal hands on. If I can’t defeat him, thousands will pay the price.”

“I know, but… there is still time to solve your save point’s problem. Restore that safety net at least.”

“I think I have a solution,” Ryan replied, though he doubted it would work. Still, it cost nothing to try. “Trust me on this.”

“I trust you with my life, Ryan… but I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other, you understand that?” She locked eyes with him, and he lost himself in the blue abyss of her gaze. “Promise me that you will come back to me, alright? Just… promise me.”

Ryan held her gaze for a while, before lightly kissing her. Her lips tasted like strawberry, soft and gentle to the touch. The contact lasted no more than a few furtive seconds, but the courier wished it had lasted a lifetime. “I will,” he promised. “I swear. Quicksave delivers, no matter how many tries it takes.”

It drew a tired grin from her. “Make sure to succeed in one go this time.”

The courier smiled to hide his own unease, before petting Eugène-Henry and Henriette one last time and exiting the room. He felt Livia’s worried gaze on his back as he closed the door behind him.

He found Len waiting outside the door, wearing her terrible jumpsuit and carrying her water rifle. “Shortie,” Ryan said. “You heard everything?”

“I didn’t mean to.” She looked at him with resolve. Although her eyes remained slightly red from dried tears, her body language appeared different… more confident. “Promise me you will come back too, Riri.”

“Can you stop raising death flags, please?” Ryan asked. He had the intuition every promise he made jinxed him further. “Fine, I promise I will come back if it makes you feel better.”

“I… I am already better.” Her smile had a sorrowful edge to it, but it was a smile all the same. “Thanks to you.”

“The thanks are all mine, Shortie,” Ryan replied. “You saved my life when you developed that mind-transfer tech. In more ways than you can count.”

“I told you before, Riri. What we have is more powerful than friendship. Whatever we are up against… I know we will face it together.” She bit her lower lips. “It’s… it’s what Dad would have wanted, I think. My… my real dad, I mean. Not what he became.”

Ryan examined her face closely. That bittersweet expression of someone who had found an answer to a lifelong question, though it had cost her a great deal. “You’ve made peace with yourself?” he asked her.

“I think so,” Len replied. Instead of looking away, as she usually did, she held his gaze. “I… I did all I could, Ryan. It’s hard to explain but… I don’t feel happy about my father’s death, but I don’t feel guilty anymore either.”

“I understand, Shortie. Believe me, I do.”

“For a long time, Riri, I thought it was my fault,” she admitted. “That dad… that dad wouldn’t have become a monster if I could defend myself. I wanted to return my father to normal because I loved him, and… because I blamed myself.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“No,” she replied while shaking her head. “What happened, happened. As you said to me once… there are things you can’t change. I tried the best I could. It’s… it’s time I move on. I can’t change the past, but I can improve the future.”

She had failed to save her father and would carry this pain all her life, but accepted that she couldn’t have changed anything.

Len Sabino had found closure.

“I… I’ve given some thoughts about what I should do now,” Len said. “I thought I would take the children away with me to the sea, but now...”

“But now you’ve changed your mind?”

“I… yes. I thought the world couldn’t change. That the surface could only get worse. But…” Her eyes shone with a hint of hope. “It’s getting better. We made it better.”

Ryan chuckled. “We did, yes.”

“If even Dynamis can change… I think the world can too.” Her cheeks blushed, as a shy grin formed on her lips. “I’ve… given thought about the Architect. She wants to create cities, to repopulate the countries devastated by the Genome Wars. I think I can help. Not just help Rust Town’s children, but all children across the globe. Make sure they grow up in better conditions than we did.”

“Good luck exporting the socialist revolution,” Ryan said with a chuckle, but deep down he couldn’t feel prouder of her. “But it’s good, Len. You’ll help countless people, and not only because of your power.”

Len frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You have a kind heart, Len, and that’s what matters most I think. Mechron, the Alchemist, even Fallout… they all had the power to make the world a better and more bountiful place, but they misused their gifts. Mechron made weapons, the Alchemist empowered the likes of Augustus, and Fallout lost sight of what truly mattered to him. But you, Shortie?”

Ryan grinned ear to ear.

“You will do great.”

She reddened so much that Ryan wondered if her inner commie had come out of hiding. He decided to tease her a bit. “Did I give you diabetes with mere words?”

Len answered his jap with a sisterly hug. He let her arms move around his back, and his around her. He listened to her slow breathing, as his mind wandered to his first family. It had been almost nine centuries since his parents perished at the hands of raiders, so long that he could barely remember how they looked, or even their names. Ryan had been twelve when Bloodstream and Len found him hiding in his home’s wreckage, a lost child with nothing.

Though he had lost a family of blood that day, he had gained another forged in sweat and tempered with struggles. A sister he loved dearly.

“Thanks, Riri,” Len said, before breaking the hug. “We can discuss our future after we win, alright?”

Yes, indeed.

After they won.

In the depths of Mechron’s bunker, Ryan laid on an operation table clad in his Saturn Armor as robotic arms repaired Fallout’s damage.

Since he wouldn’t have the opportunity to improve upon the design further, the courier had taken the opportunity to install a few upgrades. The most important of all was a system based on the mechanism his team’s Geniuses developed to discuss with Elixirs.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, his helmet’s lens shifting with the Elixirs’ rainbowy colors. A voice channel opened, as his armor’s computer translated his words into Flux signals.

The synthetic voice that answered through the channel was unlike the one he heard while in the Black World… but Ryan knew, deep within his bones, to whom it belonged.

“Ryan.”

His Elixir.

“You know, we’ve been together for a very long time,” Ryan said, wincing as a robot added a new chest plate on the armor. “Yet I never learned your name.”

The notion seemed to amuse the Elixir. “We emissaries do not have names,” it said. “You may call me however you wish.”

Ryan gave it some thought. Lightling? No, Darkling would get jealous. “How about Magenta?”

“Magenta?”

“Violet would have been too simple. Or maybe you would prefer the Color out of Space? Coos? Or the Color out of Time?”

The Elixir didn’t answer immediately, but when it did, it sounded quite pleased. “I like Magenta better,” it said. “Better than fuschia or purple. How long did you ponder that one?”

“Shouldn’t you already know? I mean, you are inside me.” Now that Ryan thought of it, it meant that his Elixir had experienced everything its host did...

“I am no peeper,” the entity answered, vaguely amused. “We have bonded for so long that I understand human thoughts better than the rest of my kind, but it remains a second language to me. Subtleties escape me… though I do know why you wanted to have this conversation.”

Ryan looked at the metal ceiling above his head. He could almost hear the Augusti troops marching above his head, hundreds of meters beyond the steel and dirt. “Why did you prevent me from saving?”

“I had nothing to do with it,” his Elixir admitted. “All Violet powers ultimately derive from the Ultimate One. As Darkling said, we are priests. We do not bring miracles; we can only ask for them.”

So Ryan had been right, it had been an Illuminati plot from the start. “Then let me rephrase myself: why did your boss prevent me from saving?”

“I do not know, but I can guess. Your connection to the Black has grown, Ryan. Before you could barely consume Fallout’s Red Flux, but now… now you could harm him directly.” His Elixir sounded quite concerned. “Black is a sword without a hilt. Unlike other Colors, it is as dangerous for its wielder as for its foes, and it feeds on the timelines you delete. If it grows too strong…”

“It will grow uncontrollable and destroy me. Powerful as it is now, it might cause my save to go wrong.” That would explain why the Ultimate One would prevent the courier from accessing his trump card, but the implications worried him greatly. “If I can neither create a new save point nor die, then what will it mean when I say, die of old age?”

“I do not know, Ryan. But the Ultimate One sent you a message. To carry on until the end, and see what lies beyond victory. Maybe… maybe you won’t die at all. Maybe you will ascend instead.”

“I thought I closed that door when I refused to stay in the Black World?”

“Ascension is not an end, Ryan, but a process by which lesser lifeforms ascend into the cosmic beings inhabiting the higher realms. The door is always open.” His Elixir struggled to find the human words to explain the phenomenon. “I can hardly describe it. Each ascension is unique, and you are closer to it than most. The Hargraves lifeform too. He is trying to delay the process as long as he can, so he can stay on this Earth, but eventually, he will become a bright star in the sky. If he chooses to.”

Ryan marked a short pause. “Why me?” he asked. “Why am I closer?”

“Because power is not the only thing that conditions ascension, Ryan. Wisdom is another. This is why the creatures you fought in the Alchemist’s ship were denied this reward. Their eyes were small, and could see no further than themselves.”

“With cosmic powers come universal responsibilities?” the courier scoffed.

“Yes,” his Elixir answered softly, its voice full of pride. “We have been connected for centuries, Ryan, and you have grown with them. Time has no more secrets for you, and though the road was long and difficult, you have reached the end of your journey.”

It sounded like a teacher happy to see their student graduating, even though the final exam was yet to come.

“Do you think we can beat him? Augustus?” Though Ryan always projected confidence to others to keep their hopes up, his Elixir knew his thoughts. Lightning Butt was the strongest Genome the courier had ever faced, and this time he wouldn’t have a do-over if he failed. “Can the Black harm him now?”

Magenta was suddenly a lot less enthusiastic. “Augustus is made of the strongest material in creation, an indestructible metal invulnerable to non-conceptual abilities. Even if it has grown stronger, your other power will make it possible to defeat him, not easy.”

So it would be victory or death. Ryan’s Elixir must have read his thoughts, before it immediately tried to reassure him. “I have faith in you, Ryan. In us. I know we can make it.”

“I hope so too,” Ryan replied, right as the robots finished their work. The courier stepped on his feet, his steps echoing on the steel floor. “Any word of advice before we go in?”

“One.” The Elixir’s voice turned cold and deadly. “Don’t cheat on me.”

Ryan blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Now, I know you are a perfect specimen of Homo Sapiens with excellent genes, so I am not surprised that some of my kindred propositioned you.” Now the Elixir sounded positively jealous. “I am very proud that you resisted the lure of free bonding, but let this be clear: I will not tolerate Elixir bigamy. I didn’t carry you for over eight hundred years to share now.”

“Wait, can the Ultimate One grant divorces?” the courier asked playfully.

“That would be against my religion, but I can make this bonding a living hell.”

“I’m joking,” Ryan replied. “You’ve been my best bud since I was sixteen. I’m never cheating on you. Even with Darkling.”

“I know, Ryan. That was a joke too.” The Elixir sounded so serious and deadpan, that Ryan hadn’t noticed. “Was it funny?”

“You’ve still got a few years of practice ahead of you, but I’ll help.” Ryan put on a cashmere poncho over the armor, as he didn’t feel complete without it. “Till death do us part, then.”

“No, Ryan. Death is but a door, and the ending yet awaits us.” The Elixir marked a short pause, before uttering one final word. “Onward.”

Ryan cut off the communication and prepared to activate the bunker’s self-destruct mechanism, when he noticed a small, white shape in a corner of the room.

The Plushie stood on its two feet, gazing up at Ryan with its big, beautiful blue eyes. The creature didn’t make a sound, nor did ominous eldritch voices echo in the room. The monster that had haunted the courier’s nightmares and slaughtered its way across multiple loops now gazed at its maker with solemn silence. It looked… thoughtful, for a lack of better.

Almost sad.

“Why are you here, buddy?” Ryan asked, a little bit scared by its unusual behavior.

“Let’s go to Disneyland!” the creature replied with its paws raised, its sorrow swiftly replaced with malice and cruelty.

Ryan raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, before suddenly trying to remember Narcinia’s age… and failing. “No multiplication,” he warned while pointing a finger at the murderous lagomorph. “If you mess up my Perfect Run, I’m never letting you disembowel anyone again.”

“I am your friend!”

“You are.” God have mercy, they had become friends one rampage at a time. “Is it about sticking it to Lightning Butt?”

The rabbit slowly nodded, as Ryan had guessed. It wanted payback for its previous defeat, and now might be its last chance to deliver.

“Alright,” the courier said. He still owed the Plushie for saving him from Adam, after all. “Jump inside the backpack and let’s blow up Olympus. And maybe Dreamworks too, if we have enough time.”

The Plushie cried out in joy, and climbed on Ryan’s armor. The courier opened the backpack compartment, and the demonic toy vanished inside.

The courier glanced around the metallic chamber, almost with a sense of sadness. Though his team had already taken away all beneficial, non-lethal technology from the bunker, it still pained Ryan to condemn this place to destruction. The sheer potential of its accumulated knowledge, centuries ahead of its time...

But as Sunshine had said it, there were no right hands to use this power.

“I always wanted to say it,” Ryan muttered to himself, as he glanced at the room’s cameras. It had taken all his charm to convince Alchemo to program this specific order into Mechron’s mainframe. “Execute order Sixty-Six.”

An alarm immediately echoed across the bunker. “Self-destruct sequence initiated. Explosion expected in: six minutes.”

Ryan was outside in three, though he used his power to cheat.

When the countdown reached its end, the courier hovered above the empty Junkyard, watching on as Augusti cars crossed the checkpoints into Rust Town. With Dynamis’ collapse, the guards had been either recalled back to other areas, or simply deserted. Nobody opposed the criminal syndicate’s invasion.

Yet, no sooner had they crossed the border that the whole district trembled.

The quake wasn’t powerful enough to devastate Rust Town, but Ryan couldn’t say the same for the Junkyard. The open garbage den collapsed on itself, its ground falling down as explosions devastated the bunker hidden beneath it. Piles of cars and trash fell into a deep gaping hole, blowing a cloud of dust into the skies.

When the dirt fell down back to earth, only an abyss of smoking debris remained from the Junkyard. Though the rest of Rust Town remained intact, its major landmark had vanished. Ryan wondered if it would harm the local tourist industry.

A crimson light briefly glowed in the blue skies above, like a red star shining in its final death throes. The Bahamut satellite had self-destructed alongside its orbital command center, the sword of Damocles that had hung over New Rome shattering.

Mechron’s legacy would never haunt the world again.

This last loose end closed, Ryan turned to glance at Ischia Island. He noticed the shadow of Mechron’s submarine making its way there, ready to disembark troops. New Rome would have its own D-day, with a time-traveler leading the charge.

Len immediately established communication. “We’re waiting for you, Riri.”

And so, Quicksave flew on to his last battle.

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