The Perfect Run

It was May 10th. Psyshock would attack the orphanage any minute, and Ryan intended to give the telepath a headache he would never forget.

A shotgun in hand and the Fisty Brothers equipped, the courier prowled the orphanage’s hallways, where the kids were busy gathering food and toys in travel bags. To his worry though, he found no trace of Len.

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked little Giulia, upon crossing paths with her. Unlike her fellow orphans, who had taken food or toys, the little blonde mostly carried books on herself. Meeting this child after learning what Psyshock did to her in a previous loop only reinforced the courier's resolve.

“Mama says she’s taking us to the magical place early,” she explained, looking down instead of facing the Genome's eyes. She seemed far shyer than Sarah. “So we have to pack our stuff.”

Wise. No doubt Hannifat Lecter would attack the place again with larger numbers after his pet squid bit the dust here.

Hopefully, Ryan would receive backup. The courier had informed Jamie of the attack when they met at the Bakuto, even giving him the A-bomb as a bribe for Vulcan to sweeten the deal. He provided all the intel necessary, though Ryan couldn’t be certain if the information would pass through the chain of command until the moment of truth.

“Where is she?” the Genome asked. The courier could take out Psypsy and his group on his own easily enough if he cut loose, but he couldn’t prevent the body-jumper from transferring himself.

“She’s in her room. We shouldn’t bother her.”

“Well, I’ve bothered her since the day we met,” Ryan replied, leaving Giulia behind and moving towards Len’s bedroom. From what he had understood, it used to be the office of the shelter’s director, before they left the place to rust.

He knocked on the door, receiving no answer. While it was locked, the courier had long mastered the art of breaking and entering. “Len?” he asked after unlocking the door, finding the bedroom shrouded in thick darkness. “Shortie?”

Only a meowing sound answered him.

Ryan quickly flipped the light switch and found himself facing a giant diver suit. The same one Len wore when she tried to rescue him from Acid Rain.

“Shortie?” Ryan asked, before looking behind the armor. He found Len sitting on a chair next to a mattress, staring at a wall. When he took a step forward, the Genome almost tripped on a medicine box, noticing dozens on the floor. “Shortie?”

No answer. Len just stared blankly at the wall, while Eugène-Henry von Schrodinger rested on her lap. Her eyes were blackened by sleeplessness and exhaustion.

She looked dead.

“Len? Len!” When he received no answer, the courier approached a free hand from her shoulder, intending to shake her back to consciousness.

“Don’t!” Her sudden reaction startled both Ryan and the cat on her lap; it was as if she had woken up from a nightmare. Len then put her hands on her ears, as if struggling against a terrible headache. “Don’t come closer!”

It reminded Ryan of the first time they met again under the sea, except somehow even worse.

The courier said nothing, glancing at the boxes on the ground. He grabbed one, finding it empty. “Len,” Ryan said with dead seriousness, tossing the empty container on the bed. “If you weren’t a Genome, you would have overdosed from all these pills.”

“If I didn’t have powers, I wouldn’t need so many of them.”

“It’s true Genomes had an enhanced metabolism, but still, do you know these medications shouldn’t be taken together?”

No answer.

“You aren’t following any treatment,” Ryan realized, horrified.

“If I don’t take them, I don’t want to do anything,” Len snapped. Clearly, her mood had worsened, perhaps due to the wrong drug combination. “If I don’t take them, I… I can’t talk to you at all. I don’t want to do anything except use my power.”

She couldn’t even interact with others except under heavy medication.

How many did she take under the sea? Did the fact they met in her sanctum make it worse back then? Seeing his friend deteriorating that much horrified Ryan, but he didn’t know what to say.

“I… I’m coming,” Len finally spoke up, massaging her forehead. “I’ll put on the suit. I have to.”

“I can take care of Psyshock alone if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no, can’t, can’t let you do everything,” she replied, struggling to form a complete sentence. “I have to help. I have to.”

“Alright, I will keep watch until you’re ready then.” Ryan left to give her some breathing room, though he did notice something on the bed on his way out. The rough schematics of some kind of sonar, although messy and incomplete. Len must have worked on this new device during the day.

parked nearby, Ryan remembering how Sarah and her friend had stood

when he saw Psyshock’s black minibus approach, Ryan decided to spice things up a little this time. He raised the shotgun and hit the wheels at the front, causing the Meta's

for good measure.

Ryan heard heavy footsteps behind him, Len emerging from the orphanage in her full power armor. She carried a waterthrower as her main weapon,

disguise, Ryan relaxed a bit. The brainjacker had only brought Mosquito and Mongrel with

to reveal his biomechanical eyes. “And is that Little Len too? I could

want, I’ve got old times’ slides,” Ryan mocked Psyshock. “Half of them are dedicated to your royal

to your brain,” Psyshock replied, his tone heavy with menace. “Though we only came for the goblins in that shelter, this is a good day indeed. It is true what

Mongrel showed his

die today,” Psyshock replied, his wire tentacles wriggling below his coat. “They are mine, both

her waterthrower without

Psyshock mocked them. “Check your math, you are

Psypsy,” Ryan replied, noticing a white Yamaha motorcycle approaching from behind. “It's

did carry a Genius-tech staff, like a knight showing up for a

a winning smile, leaving her bike behind while

a brief flash of light, his cronies flinching

don’t look at her like that,” Ryan said, raising

was not so different from the courier’s own ability. A save point allowing them to try again after death. Ergo, they probably shared the

something new and unexpected. Something he had never done in the previous loops, no matter how suicidal the

clothes with his tentacles while his cronies attacked

Gotcha.

Psyshock’s tentacles apart. When

looked at the dog shelter sign?” Ryan taunted him.

flames fizzled out into nothingness at the tip of his fingers. The hitwoman impaled him through the chest with her staff before he

of her weapon, slicing his left wing clean and causing the overgrown insect to crash; Ryan immediately tossed the shotgun aside and attacked Mosquito

insecticide?” Ryan shouted, pounding Mosquito onto

respond. While she was no stranger to brutality and didn’t hesitate to use lethal force when needed, the Genius usually retreated into her own mind in a

death, Cancel immediately moved on to Psyshock. The Psycho attempted to rise back up, but the hitwoman swiftly caught up with him. Her power clearly didn’t

asked Psyshock, her tone always positive. “Look

his remaining tentacles in an attempt to hit her

didn’t react

smear on the ground. Some of the Psycho’s blood ended up on

looked like a crushed bug at his feet, still alive, but bleeding to

guessed Vulcan’s absence, the surprise

said with a cheery smile, tossing Psyshock’s immobile corpse

anyone tell

leaving Psyshock’s remains and looking at Mosquito. “He’s

treatment, he

“Please…” Mosquito pleaded.

with her staff. Len

to hear Len’s gentle

I’m Greta.” You already said that before, Ryan thought. He realized her lines weren’t spontaneous at

good,” Ryan

I hope we meet again

with the same cheery smile. “You’re the nicest

“Thanks! What’s a sociopath?”

answered her question with two thumbs

as she came, leaving the Psychos’ corpses to rot. Clearly, she had a lot of experience with

said when

respond, he sensed an invisible pressure on his shoulders; the Land’s gaze had suddenly fallen upon him. The courier waved a hand at the skies, wondering

seconds, but it made Len almost stumble at

Ryan replied. “I suggest we move out before

turned towards the orphanage and

in the vicinity, the Plymouth