A Genius Morty

Morty and Rick worked tirelessly in the war room, their focus locked on the intricate setup of the dimensional rift they were crafting. The plan was ambitious—create a simulated tear in the fabric of reality so convincing that it would draw out Evil Morty's allies, forcing them to reveal themselves. Morty's hands moved almost automatically as he wired the device, his thoughts a tangled mess of strategy and the lingering fear of their last encounter with Vaxon.

Rick's focus was razor-sharp, his usual reckless energy channeled into each precise movement. He was muttering calculations under his breath, recalculating the quantum resonance fields and stabilizing the illusion of chaos. The glow of the equipment bathed them both in an eerie green light, the hum of energy growing louder as they brought the device closer to life.

"This has to be perfect," Morty said, his voice tight with determination. "We can't afford any mistakes, Rick. If they figure out this rift is fake, they'll scatter, and we'll lose any chance we have to track down the rest of that council."

Rick nodded, his face set in a rare expression of complete seriousness. "I know, Morty. This isn't my first rodeo. We're crafting a reality trap so fine-tuned, they won't know they're stepping into our web until it's already snapping shut around them."

Morty paused for a moment, glancing at Rick. "Do you really think this will work? I mean, we barely got out of there alive last time. Vaxon was just one of them, and he almost killed Summer. What if the others are worse?"

Rick straightened up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Morty, look, you're right to be scared. Hell, you'd be stupid not to be. But we've got the one thing that those high-and-mighty council freaks don't have—we've got nothing to lose. They're all playing it safe, manipulating from the shadows. Us? We're cornered animals now, and that makes us dangerous."

Morty took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew Rick was right. They were past the point of running; this was a fight they had to see through, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, in the quiet of the med bay, Summer lay on her hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers to questions she was too afraid to ask. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting long shadows across the room, and the steady beep of the monitor next to her was the only sound breaking the silence. She'd insisted on helping Morty and Rick prepare, but the doctors had put their foot down, confining her to bed rest until her vitals stabilized.

Her body was healing, but her mind was drifting to darker places, the kind she'd managed to keep at bay during the adrenaline rush of battle. Now, without the distraction of action, the quiet became a breeding ground for every doubt and fear she'd tried to suppress. She could still feel the force of Vaxon's attack, the cold detachment in his eyes as he swatted her aside like she was nothing. It wasn't just her body that had been bruised; her confidence, her belief in herself, had taken a hit she wasn't sure she could recover from.

She thought of Morty and Rick, out there planning to face monsters that could bend reality itself, and here she was—stuck in a bed, useless, weak. She'd spent so long trying to prove that she was just as strong, just as capable as they were, but all it had taken was one encounter with Vaxon to shatter that illusion.

A nurse came in to check on her, but Summer barely registered her presence. The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile, adjusted her IV, and left with a quiet word of encouragement, but Summer didn't hear any of it. She was too lost in her own head, spiraling into thoughts she couldn't shake.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice hoarse and filled with bitterness. "How am I supposed to help anyone if I can't even take care of myself?"

She remembered her mother, Beth, and the strength she'd always seemed to carry, even in the face of impossible odds. Summer had always tried to be like her—to be tough, to be unbreakable. But now, lying here, she felt like all the fight had drained out of her, like she'd failed Beth's memory by not being strong enough.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away, angry at herself for feeling so vulnerable. "Come on, Summer. Get it together," she muttered. "You're not some damsel in distress. You're supposed to be better than this."

But the words felt hollow. She'd been fighting alongside Morty and Rick, risking everything to keep the multiverse from tearing itself apart, and for what? To end up in a hospital bed, sidelined while they went out to face the real threats? To always be just one step behind, never quite enough?

She thought of Morty—how much he'd grown, how he'd become a leader in a war they never wanted to fight. He was out there now, standing on the front lines, while she was trapped in her own mind, drowning in self-doubt. She wondered if he even needed her anymore, or if she was just one more person he had to worry about protecting.

"Mom would have known what to do," she said softly, her voice cracking. "She always knew what to say to make things better, to make me believe that I was strong enough. But I'm not like her. I'm just… lost."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, feeling the weight of her own inadequacy pressing down on her. It was easier to be angry, to fight, to push the pain away with every swing of her fists. But now that the anger was gone, all that was left was the hollow ache of failure.

Back in the war room, the tension was thick as Rick and Morty completed the final adjustments on the dimensional rift. Morty watched as the device pulsed with energy, mimicking the fluctuations of a real tear in the multiverse. He could feel the vibrations through the floor, like the hum of a sleeping giant that was just beginning to stir.

"This is it," Morty said, looking over at Rick. "We've done all we can. Now we wait and see who takes the bait."

Rick nodded, though his face remained serious. "We've got a small window of time before they realize this is a setup. If they don't bite soon, we'll have to pull the plug before they trace it back to us."

Morty's jaw clenched as he looked back at the swirling energy on the screen. "They'll come. They have to. We're dangling the one thing they can't resist—chaos on a scale they think they can control."

Just then, a notification pinged on the console, and Morty's heart jumped. He glanced at the readout, and his eyes widened in shock. "Rick, look. We've got movement. Multiple dimensional signatures converging on the rift's coordinates."

Rick's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Well, well. Looks like the rats are coming out of their holes. This is it, Morty. This is where we turn the tide."

But even as they prepared to spring their trap, Morty's mind wandered to Summer. He couldn't shake the image of her lying in that hospital bed, how close they'd come to losing her. They were all in this fight together, but Morty knew that the battle scars ran deeper than just the physical wounds.

"I'm worried about Summer, Rick," Morty said suddenly, his voice quieter now, tinged with a sadness he couldn't mask.

Rick glanced at him, his expression softening for just a second. "Yeah, Morty. Me too. She's tough as nails, but even the strongest of us have cracks. This war… it changes you."

Morty nodded, staring at the energy rift as if it held all the answers he was searching for. "I don't know how to help her, Rick. I don't know how to make her believe that she's enough, that we need her just as much as she needs us."

Rick sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of years of regrets. "You keep fighting, Morty. For her, for yourself, for all of us. You don't let her slip away into that darkness. You remind her every damn day that she's not alone, that she's a part of this family, no matter how broken we are."

Morty looked at Rick, seeing the vulnerability in his grandfather's eyes, the fear that he never showed. It wasn't just Summer who was hurting—it was all of them. The battle scars ran through their souls, binding them together even as they threatened to pull them apart.

"We'll get her back on her feet, Rick," Morty said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. "We'll remind her that she's not in this alone."

Rick gave a small nod, his eyes fixed on the rift as it pulsed brighter, signaling the approach of their enemies. "Damn right, Morty. And when we're done with this council, we'll make sure they never mess with our family again."

As they watched the baited trap begin to draw in their enemies, Morty's mind remained divided—half focused on the mission at hand, half with Summer, lying in that hospital bed, fighting her own battles in the shadows of her mind.

But Morty knew one thing for sure: no matter how deep they had to dive into the darkness, they were going to drag Summer back into the light. And they were going to do it together, as a family. No matter how broken they were, no matter how much they hurt, they wouldn't let her face that darkness alone. They'd already lost too much to let each other slip through their fingers now.

The monitor flashed again, showing more dimensional signatures converging on the false rift. Morty could see that their trap was working. The council members were taking the bait, just as they'd hoped. The tension in the room was electric, every nerve in his body tingling with anticipation. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Summer.

"We've got them," Rick said, breaking the silence. He pointed to the screen where several energy signatures—each one more powerful than the last—were appearing. "Multiple incoming signals. These aren't just scouts; they're the real deal. Heavy hitters."

Morty's hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Good. The sooner we draw them out, the sooner we can make them pay for what they did to Summer."

Rick turned to look at Morty, his expression surprisingly gentle. "You know, Morty, sometimes you remind me more of Beth than you do of me."

Morty blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Rick's gaze drifted back to the swirling vortex of the dimensional rift. "Beth had that same fire in her, that same need to protect everyone around her—even when she was scared out of her mind. She always thought she had to be the one to hold everything together, to fix everyone else's messes. She never realized that sometimes, it's okay to lean on someone else for a change."

Morty swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "I miss her, Rick. Every day. I keep thinking if she were here, she'd know what to do. She'd know how to help Summer through this."

Rick's face softened, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, Morty. She would've. She always knew how to keep this screwed-up family of ours from falling apart. But you're doing a damn good job of it too, kid. Better than I ever could."

Morty opened his mouth to respond, but the console let out a loud beep, drawing their attention back to the mission at hand. A new energy reading appeared on the screen, far larger and more volatile than the others. It was powerful, almost overwhelming, like the multiverse itself was bending to accommodate its presence.

Rick's eyes narrowed. "That's got to be one of them. A big one. No way a signature like that belongs to anyone else but one of the council members."

Morty nodded, his resolve hardening. "Alright. We've got their attention. Now we need to track them back to their source. If we can follow this energy trail, it might lead us to where the rest of the council is hiding."

Rick's fingers danced over the console, setting up the scanners to lock onto the incoming signal. "I'll set up a trace. If they're dumb enough to stick around, we'll have their location mapped out before they even realize they've been had."

But even as they worked, Morty couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. They were walking into dangerous territory, and the council was far from the only threat lurking in the shadows. He couldn't let himself get lost in anger and revenge. He needed to stay focused—focused on what really mattered.

"Rick," Morty said quietly, turning to his grandfather. "When this is over—when we finally take down Evil Morty and his council—I'm going to do whatever it takes to help Summer get through this. She's not just some soldier in this fight; she's our family."

Rick stopped what he was doing and looked at Morty, his expression uncharacteristically soft, almost vulnerable. "Morty, you've got the right idea. Summer's tough, but even the toughest of us crack under pressure. She needs to know we've got her back, even when she feels like she's hit rock bottom."

Morty took a deep breath, nodding as he absorbed Rick's words. He'd spent so long trying to be like Rick, trying to become the kind of person who could fight these battles without flinching. But now he realized that the strength he needed wasn't just about being tough or smart or ruthless. It was about being there for the people he loved, no matter how broken they were, no matter how lost.

As the dimensional rift pulsed and shifted, Morty thought of Summer lying in that hospital bed, facing demons he couldn't see, struggling with a darkness that seemed to grow deeper by the day. He couldn't let her fight that battle alone. They were in this together, all of them, and they would rise or fall as a family.

The console beeped again, and Rick let out a triumphant laugh. "Gotcha! We've got a lock on their signal, Morty. We're tracing it right back to their nest."

Morty's eyes lit up with determination. "Perfect. Let's see where these bastards are hiding."

As the screen filled with coordinates and dimensional pathways, Morty's grip on the console tightened. The council had taken the bait, but this was only the beginning of the hunt. They were no longer in the shadows, and Morty would make sure that every last one of them would pay for what they did to his family.

Rick's gaze was steady, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Morty. "You're leading the charge now, Morty. What's the play?"

Morty's voice was filled with a quiet, burning resolve. "We follow them back to their lair. We find out who they are, where they're hiding, and we take them down. One by one, until there's nothing left of Evil Morty's twisted little empire."

Rick gave Morty a proud nod, his eyes glinting with a mix of pride and something deeper—something that looked an awful lot like hope. "That's the spirit, Morty. Let's make these bastards wish they never messed with the Smith family."

As they prepared to mobilize, Morty's mind drifted back to Summer one last time. She might be hurting now, struggling to see her own worth, but he wasn't going to give up on her. He wasn't going to let her drown in the darkness that had taken hold of her. He'd pull her back, no matter how deep she'd fallen.

Because they were more than just a rebellion. They were a family, and they'd fight like hell to protect each other.

The multiverse was vast and filled with enemies they had yet to face, but Morty knew one thing for sure: together, they were stronger than the darkness that threatened to tear them apart. And no matter how many shadows they had to walk through, no matter how many monsters they faced, they would bring the light back to Summer and to each other.

It was time to turn the tide. Time to take the fight directly to Evil Morty's council and make them pay for every wound, every tear, and every scar they'd inflicted on the Smith family. This was just the beginning of their reckoning.

And Morty wouldn't rest until the last shadow fell.

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