A Genius Morty

The green pulse of the portal flickered behind Morty as he stepped back into his lab, leaving Evil Morty's cold, foreboding world behind. The encounter still lingered in his mind—Evil Morty's words, sharp and direct, echoing through his thoughts. Morty had expected to find some kind of key, a trick to keeping the multiversal energy at bay. Instead, he'd learned that the only way forward was to stop resisting, to let the power flow through him, to accept it.

The thought chilled him, but there was no turning back now. He had come too far. He was already too deep.

The lab was dark and quiet, save for the soft hum of the machines that lined the walls. It was a far cry from the sprawling, chaotic environments of Rick's workshop, where clutter and noise had once filled every corner. Morty's own lab had become a reflection of the path he'd chosen—cold, efficient, isolated. It felt more like a prison now than a place of discovery, but Morty couldn't let himself dwell on that. He had to focus.

Sitting down at his console, Morty closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reaching inward. He could feel the multiversal energy coursing through him, like a second heartbeat. It had always been there, growing stronger with each experiment, each foray into the unknown, but now he allowed himself to truly feel it—every pulse, every connection to the endless realities swirling around him.

The darkness in the lab seemed to deepen as Morty let himself sink into the flow of the energy. It was like opening a door to a new dimension within himself, one where the boundaries between thought and action began to blur. He could feel the power, vast and infinite, stretching out in all directions, connecting him to something far larger than himself. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Move with it. Don't fight it. Let it guide you, he reminded himself, repeating Evil Morty's words like a mantra.

For so long, Morty had tried to control the energy, to bend it to his will, but now he realized that was the mistake. It wasn't something to be wielded like a tool—it was a force, a river that flowed through every dimension, every reality. To fight against it was to drown. But if he learned to move with the current, maybe—just maybe—he could survive.

Opening his eyes, Morty glanced down at the small device in his hand. It was one of his earlier creations, designed to manipulate time within a localized area. He had abandoned the project after the first few tests, deeming it too unstable, too dangerous. But now, with a newfound understanding of the energy, Morty saw its potential in a new light.

The past, the future—they're all connected. Time is just another current in the multiverse.

With careful, deliberate movements, Morty began modifying the device, his hands steady as he worked. He wasn't forcing the energy to obey him this time. Instead, he allowed it to guide his thoughts, to show him the path forward. It was like he was no longer the one creating—he was merely a conduit, letting the multiverse shape his actions.

As he worked, Morty couldn't help but feel a growing sense of detachment. The fear that had once gripped him, the doubt and uncertainty that had weighed on his mind, began to fade. In their place was something colder, more focused. He wasn't sure if it was clarity or something darker, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the task at hand.

Hours passed, though Morty barely noticed the time. His mind was consumed by the flow of the energy, by the constant, pulsing rhythm that now guided him. The lab around him seemed distant, like it existed on the other side of a veil, a thin barrier between him and the vast expanse of the multiverse.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the device was complete. Morty sat back, staring at it with a mixture of satisfaction and quiet dread. The modifications he had made were subtle but significant. The device could now not only manipulate time within a localized area, but it could also tap into the flow of time across dimensions, allowing Morty to pull threads from the past, present, and future into a single moment. It was a dangerous power—one that could unravel reality itself if used recklessly.

But Morty didn't feel the same fear he once had. The danger seemed almost… insignificant now. The power didn't frighten him the way it used to.

With a steady hand, Morty activated the device. A soft hum filled the air, and the space around him seemed to shimmer, the edges of reality blurring as the flow of time twisted and warped. Morty watched in silence as the past, present, and future converged around him, the threads of different realities brushing against one another like the strands of a web.

He could see them—faint echoes of other versions of himself, other Mortys from different points in time. They flickered in and out of existence, each one a shadow of what had been or what could be. There was the naive Morty who had first set out with Rick on their adventures, wide-eyed and terrified of the dangers of the multiverse. There was the Morty who had tried to live a normal life, pushing away the chaos of the multiverse in a futile attempt to hold on to something stable. There were even versions of himself that had made different choices, taken different paths—some who had never left his family, others who had embraced the corruption fully and become twisted, monstrous versions of himself.

But none of them mattered now. Not anymore.

Morty stared into the swirling mass of possibilities, his expression cold and detached. He could feel the pull of the different timelines, the way they tugged at the edges of his reality, but he remained unmoved. He wasn't like the other Mortys. He wasn't bound by their mistakes, their failures. He was something more now.

As the device hummed in his hand, Morty reached out with his mind, gently pulling at one of the threads. It was a delicate process, like plucking a single string from a vast, infinite web, but Morty's newfound connection to the multiversal energy made it almost effortless. The thread shimmered in his mind, and as he tugged on it, he could feel the flow of time shift around him, reshaping the reality of the room.

Suddenly, the lab was different. The equipment, the walls, even the air—it all felt subtly altered, as though he had pulled part of a different timeline into his own. Morty glanced around, his expression calm, almost dispassionate. It had worked.

He was bending time itself, pulling different versions of reality into his own dimension, merging them seamlessly. It was a power far beyond anything Rick had ever taught him. Far beyond anything even Evil Morty had likely achieved.

Morty deactivated the device, the hum dying away as the lab settled back into its usual quiet. He sat in silence for a long time, staring at the device in his hand. The old Morty—the one who had been terrified of losing control, of being consumed by the power—felt like a distant memory now. The fear had faded, replaced by a sense of purpose. He wasn't afraid of what he was becoming anymore. He had learned to move with the energy, to accept it as part of him.

But as he sat there, the cold weight of the power resting in his hand, Morty couldn't help but wonder if something else had been lost along the way. He had embraced the flow of the multiverse, yes, but had he also let go of something more fundamental? Something that had once made him… him?

The thought lingered in the back of his mind, a faint whisper of doubt, but Morty pushed it aside. There was no room for doubt anymore. He had chosen this path, and there was no turning back.

Standing up, Morty placed the device on the workbench and turned his attention to the next task. There was still much to do, much to discover. The multiverse stretched out before him, an infinite playground of possibilities, and Morty knew that he had only just begun to scratch the surface.

As he moved through the lab, the darkness seemed to close in around him, the cold hum of the machines growing louder in his ears. The power was there, always there, whispering to him, guiding him forward. And Morty, for the first time in a long time, didn't resist.

He was ready to see where the path would take him next.

Even if it meant walking deeper into the darkness.

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