The Perfect Run

Ryan thought his life was a role-playing game.

“Kill them all!” a druggie shouted from atop a roof, hitting Ryan’s car with a submachine gun, the bullets unable to pierce the shielding. Everywhere, the courier heard the sound of bullets flying. “Kill them all!”

But somewhere along the line, it had turned into a FPS.

Hiding behind his car with an earplug in his right ear, Ryan reloaded his pistol while mourning the Plymouth Fury’s paint job; at his side, Fortuna fired over her shoulder with a pistol with one hand, and texted on a phone with the other. She didn’t even aim, and her bullets always resulted in a headshot. At least she had taken to wearing a white, streamlined armor to protect herself.

Seriously, one bad haircut, and suddenly the world wasn’t safe anymore?

In total, twelve people, Ryan and Fortuna included, hid behind the cover of half a dozen cars and SUVs. Most were henchmen wearing riot gear and carrying powerful firearms, with one exception: a woman in a suit of heavy, red padded advanced armor whose design reminded Ryan of steampunk comics. That Genome had drunk the Firebrand knock-off Elixir, and as promised by Vulcan, her armor boosted her pyrokinesis. Sometimes, she looked over her cover to throw a car-sized fireball at the enemy.

“You know texting while fighting is the first cause of bullet accidents?” Ryan asked Fortuna, as one of his car’s windows exploded, shattered by a 20mm round.

“I’m texting my brother,” she replied dismissively, barely paying attention to the battle. The lucky Genome didn’t even bother to protect herself, the snipers having a clear line of fire to hit her head. Yet so far, every bullet had narrowly missed her helmet.

“Felix the Atom Cat?”

“You know that?” Fortuna groaned. “I’m in the middle of a firefight and he won’t answer his big sister!”

Having reloaded, Ryan froze time for ten seconds and peeked over his car. Beyond the protective vehicle line, the welcoming committee had taken refuge inside two half-demolished apartment buildings, surrounding the main road leading to the Junkyard. Most of the walls had fallen, but the remains provided snipers with enough protection. As for the road itself, the Meta’s men had blocked it with a trash barricade, leaving only small openings to allow their machine guns to fire through. The Augusti’s Firebrand Genome had managed to set the road on fire though, forcing the defenders to flee or die in the flames.

However, it didn’t look like the snipers would run out of ammo anytime soon. Ryan shot two of them, before taking cover as time unfroze. Far in the distance, west of his position, he noticed crimson beams piercing through Rust Town's polluted clouds. Sparrow’s doing, probably.

In total, Vulcan had deployed three hundred soldiers to retake Rust Town, divided in groups all across the district. Most of them were non-superhuman paramilitary. Others were Genomes having drunk a knock-off Elixir; people like Ryan or the Killer Seven, with original powers, were a minority in the squad.

The Private Security had watched the squadron move inside Rust Town without reacting, perhaps hoping the Augusti and Meta would slaughter one another. Vulcan then deployed her forces all around the Junkyard, where the Meta had established their headquarters.

Unfortunately, as soon as Ryan’s group approached the area’s outskirts, they found themselves welcomed by armed men.

“Vulcan here,” Ryan heard through his earplug. “How’s the situation?”

“It’s a camper contest here,” the courier replied. “It’s the bad days of Quake all over again! But my car is alright!”

“Yes, that’s the important thing,” Fortuna replied with a sassy tone. “If someone could help us, that would be great. I’ve got a date tonight.”

“You will wait,” Vulcan replied, although she sounded quite blase. “Cancel and Sparrow are busy dealing with Gemini and Sarin, and I’m fully occupied dealing with cannon fodder. It’s such a drag, pursuing them house to house.”

“No sign of Acid Rain or Adam?” the courier asked. The Meta’s leader was their main target, as Vulcan believed he alone held his group together; if he died, the Psychos would splinter and become manageable.

“Scared?” Fortuna taunted him, putting her cell phone back into one of her armor’s pockets.

“Frankly, I could do without Acid Rain,” Ryan replied, being in no hurry to die to her again. “Our powers interfere with one another. She can predict my shifts and counter them.”

“Then Fortuna will stay with you,” Vulcan declared. Wise choice. No matter how powerful she was, Acid Rain needed guns, knives, and weapons to kill. And Fortuna’s cheat code of a superpower allowed her to neutralize them. “And no, no sign of either yet. Nor of any of the big guns, oddly.”

“Why do I have to stay with that maniac?” Fortuna complained, as their fire Genome set a building floor on fire with a well-placed fireball. “Can’t you send me with Greta?”

“You will stay with Quicksave because I say so, brat.”

“I’m older than you!”

“Don’t waste my patience, Fortuna. Clearing out the outskirts is already more exhausting than I expected, so I’m not in the mood to hear your whining.”

Clearly, Vulcan didn’t think the battle would last for so long. The Meta had a lot more foot soldiers than anticipated.

Ryan briefly froze time and glanced over his cover to survey the situation. Much to his horror, a new, scrawny sniper had appeared inside the left building, rejoining two other men with what appeared to be an archaic rocket launcher.

“Uh, oh, rocket launcher to the left!” Ryan shouted a warning as time resumed. How did the Meta-Gang recruit so many mooks?!

“On it,” a voice echoed through the earplug.

Mortimer suddenly phased through a wall behind the sniper nest in the left building, taking them by surprise. Mortimer was the only member of his hit squad who went into the field without armor, perhaps because it interfered with his power. From what Ryan had seen, the killer could phase through surfaces, from cinder block walls to the earthly ground.

In any case, Mortimer slaughtered the mooks with a submachine gun, then phased through the ground within the blink of an eye. The man with the rocket launcher fell through a destroyed wall, falling on the ground below.

“Thirteen,” Mortimer gloated through the earplug. “I’m leading.”

“Not for long, Morty!”

Fortuna fired one bullet.

from the right

reality of the situation hit him like

two people

people with one

…

work?” Ryan asked. “How did

amused by his

ten seconds looking at the scene and trying to puzzle it out. Did the bullet bounce back on one sniper's skull and killed

“What? Why?”

it’s anything like a rabbit’s, I want some of that

matter of fact, go BLEEP

at improvisation, shaking his head. “You're such

snarl, rose up from behind the car, and unleashed a volley of bullets at the defenders. When

car, as did the rest of the Augusti. They only faced corpses

declared, smoke coming out

Mortimer

probably killed fifty people in total, and lost only one henchman, shot at the beginning of the firefight. Such was the gap between normal human

until I give new instructions,” Vulcan

perimeter, but Ryan didn’t join them. Instead, he

His Plymouth Fury.

is alright,” Ryan let out a sigh of blissful relief after he reviewed the engine and key parts. The protective

vitals?” Vulcan mused through the intercom. “Does your car have a heart, on top of the

but not everyone can

and then nothing. She must have gone Michael B. on

Sparrow replied, ever the

voice turning raspy as he cleared his throat. “Look

acidic clouds spread above the

Acid Rain.

west, so she was Sparrow and Cancel’s problem this

to delay us until they could mount a counterattack with their heavy hitters,” Vulcan guessed. “But I wonder how

trash mobs for you,” Ryan replied. The courier was quite optimistic though. If the Meta struggled to mount a defense, it meant the attack took them by surprise. He

won’t be able to resupply and we’ll call in reinforcements. How does he expect to break

said. “It’s not about winning,

from my rookery,” Mortimer

asked. “We could

down. “I’ll fly by and do some recon first. Hold the road, there’s definitely something fishy going

order to laze off, Ryan whistled to himself, waltzing through the battlefield with his gun. Mortimer stood on the left building’s roof, watching the road like a hawk, while Fortuna had again

couldn’t help but notice the Dynamis logo on quite a

oddly familiar. As if someone

as he turned the dead sniper’s body on his back, to get a good look at his face. His balding, familiar

“Paulie?” Ryan said, astonished.

Fortuna asked, looking away from her

replied. “But that makes no sense, he hated

have press-ganged him into their service,” the pompous woman replied,

threatened to throw a plushie at

immediately returned to her texting and did

from surprised to panicked. “All units,

her cell phone away. “But

They have Mechron

explosion, both

the atmosphere turned

at him in judgment; the

A cloud of yellow energy flared around her body, an ethereal field surrounding her. An invisible force pushed it back inside the

afterward, tremors shook the ground, before escalating into a full-blown quake. Ryan struggled to stand on his feet, as some of the henchmen tripped and the road broke up into

Before he could say more, the building he stood on collapsed due to

That Psycho could fuse with an area, melding her body into it and

spread all over Rust Town, collapsing every building

in all directions, Ryan included, but some of the henchmen were soon buried alive under cinder blocks

getting thinner and thinner, threatening to disappear entirely. Debris that passed through the yellow aura miraculously missed the