By: FireBloodandTruth
The air in the garage was heavy with the sharp tang of chemicals and the low hum of machinery, the kind of place where reality seemed to bend at the edges. It was Rick's domain, a chaotic kingdom where every surface was cluttered with strange devices, half-finished inventions, and the kind of dangerous technology that probably shouldn't exist in any world, let alone this one. But that didn't bother Rick Sanchez. Nothing really did.
Rick stood at the workbench, his back to Morty, hunched over some contraption that looked like it could either open a portal to another dimension or explode in a shower of radioactive shrapnel. He muttered to himself, half-finished thoughts and calculations spilling out in a stream of barely coherent words as he worked, his spindly fingers darting between wires and bits of metal with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times before and didn't particularly care how it turned out this time.
Morty, on the other hand, stood awkwardly near the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, his shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable. His wide eyes flicked nervously from Rick to the chaotic mess around him, anxiety bubbling just beneath the surface. He was used to this—being dragged into Rick's mad schemes, thrust into situations that made him question not only his sanity but the very fabric of the universe. And yet, somehow, he never quite got used to the weight of it, the feeling that one wrong step could send everything spiraling out of control.
"Uh, Rick?" Morty's voice cracked slightly as he spoke, like he was testing the waters before jumping in. "What… what are we doing here? I mean, this place—uh—it smells kinda, uh, weird, you know? Like, um, like burnt toast and, uh, sadness?"
Rick didn't look up, didn't even pause. He snorted, a dry, cynical sound that felt more like a judgment than a laugh. "Morty, you know what your problem is?" He finally glanced over his shoulder, his eyes bloodshot and weary, but with a spark of something dangerous flickering behind them. "You think too much. You care too much. About, uh, you know, things that don't matter. Like smells. And safety. And, I dunno, your own mortality." He waved a dismissive hand at the mess around him. "You gotta let go, Morty. Let the universe—" he belched mid-sentence, not missing a beat, "—take you where it wants. It's all bullshit anyway."
Morty swallowed hard, nodding even though he didn't really understand. He never really did. But he trusted Rick, or at least, he had to. Trusting Rick was the only way to survive in the weird, unpredictable world his grandfather had dragged him into. So he stayed quiet, biting his lip, and watched as Rick fiddled with the device in front of him, sparks flying from its core as it whirred to life.
Rick glanced at the machine, an inscrutable grin curling at the corner of his mouth. "You ready for a little adventure, Morty? Some real cosmic-level shit? 'Cause we're not just going to any alien planet today. We're going to Bux'ra, home of the most delusional race of beings in the multiverse. They've got a ritual, Morty, and lucky for you—you're gonna be part of it."
Morty's stomach lurched at the sound of Rick's tone, the casual cruelty of it, the way Rick seemed to delight in throwing him into these insane situations. "W-wait, what kind of ritual? Rick, c'mon, man, you—you can't just throw me into stuff like this! I'm not—I'm not like you, okay? I'm not—"
Rick's laugh cut him off, loud and sharp and utterly dismissive. He slapped a hand on Morty's shoulder, too hard, too careless. "That's exactly why you're perfect for this, Morty. You're not like me. You're predictable, you're weak, and you don't ask the kind of questions that get you killed. You'll blend right in."
Morty's heart pounded in his chest, his palms sweating as he tried to find some way out of this. He didn't know what kind of ritual Rick was talking about, but the way he said it—the way he said you're gonna be part of it—it didn't exactly fill him with confidence.
"Rick, seriously, man, I—"
"Relax, Morty. It's all part of the grand plan. You'll be fine." Rick's hand tightened on his shoulder, just for a second, and then he turned back to his machine, already lost in his own world again. "Probably."
Morty stared at the back of Rick's head, his mind spinning, and all he could think was: How did I get here?
"Rick, I—I don't know, man," Morty stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. His throat felt dry, the anxiety clawing at him, making it harder to think straight. "This sounds… this sounds like the kind of thing that could, y'know, get me—get us—killed. Or—or worse! You always say that, Rick, and I—I just—"
Rick turned, his eyes narrowing with the kind of intense disdain only he could muster. "Morty, listen to yourself. Just—just shut up for a second, okay? You're always whining about something, always scared of your own shadow. I'm giving you a chance here. A chance to be something more than just a, uh, a spineless meat sack walking through life waiting to die of old age. You want that? You want the boring suburban life, Morty? Or do you want to actually experience the universe?" His voice dropped, becoming a low, almost hypnotic growl. "This is your chance, Morty. You don't get many of these."
The room felt smaller all of a sudden, the hum of the machine growing louder as it pulsed in sync with Rick's words. Morty's eyes darted around, searching for some kind of escape, but deep down, he knew there wasn't one. There never was. When Rick Sanchez decided something, the rest of the universe just bent to his will, Morty included.
"B-but Rick," Morty stuttered, his voice cracking under the pressure, "what—what's this ritual thing you're talking about? I mean, can't we just—I don't know—skip it? Maybe there's, uh, another way out of this without, y'know, doing whatever weird alien stuff they expect us to do?" His palms were slick with sweat, his heart hammering like it always did before Rick pulled him into another one of his twisted adventures.
Rick sighed, rolling his eyes, and tossed a wrench onto the workbench with a clatter. "Morty, Morty, Morty. You don't get it, do you? These aliens, the Bux'rans, they're not like us. They've got this whole... culture thing, right? This whole deal where they think everything's gotta be solved through bonding rituals." He waved a hand in the air, as if the absurdity of it was self-explanatory. "They think the universe revolves around, uh, connection, or some sentimental crap like that. So, we play their little game, we do their dumb ritual, and then we're out. Easy. Simple. Done."
Morty swallowed hard, his stomach twisting into knots. "What kind of, uh… 'bonding' are we talking about, Rick? I mean, this—this isn't gonna be like one of those times where you make me hold hands with a telepathic alien or—or do something really weird, right? Because, man, I don't think I can handle that again…"
Rick grinned, a lopsided, almost predatory smile spreading across his face. "Let's just say, Morty, it's gonna be a learning experience. For both of us. But don't get your hopes up; it's not the ritual that's important—it's the tech these backward aliens are sitting on."
Morty blinked, his confusion deepening. "Tech? What do you mean, tech? I thought this was all about some, uh, bonding ritual. What does alien technology have to do with any of this?"
Rick let out a short, sharp laugh, the kind that made Morty feel like he'd just missed some huge, universe-sized joke. "Morty, Morty, Morty… You really think I'd drag my ass all the way to this shithole planet for a ritual? You think I care about their precious little customs? No, Morty. This whole bonding thing—it's a key. A key to unlocking something way more valuable than whatever mystical, spiritual crap they've got going on."
Morty frowned, his anxiety not easing in the slightest. "A key to what?"
Rick wiped a smear of oil from his fingers onto his lab coat and reached under the bench, pulling out a holographic map. It flickered to life, revealing a massive underground structure, almost like a fortress, buried deep beneath the surface of the alien planet. "That, Morty. A Bux'ran vault, packed full of ancient tech, probably some of the most advanced junk you'll find in this galaxy. Maybe even beyond. But these idiots? They think it's sacred, tied to their gods or some other nonsense. Only way to access it is by proving yourself worthy through their dumb 'bonding' rituals. So that's where you come in."
"Me?" Morty's voice cracked again, the nerves tightening his throat. "W-why me? Why do I have to be part of this?"
Rick threw his arms out dramatically, the half-empty flask he'd been clutching in one hand spilling a few drops of glowing liquid onto the floor. "Because, Morty, I'm Rick fucking Sanchez! They expect us to 'bond,' to show some connection or whatever to open the vault. If I go in there all by myself, it'll raise too many questions. But with you? A frail, nervous wreck of a kid who follows his grandpa around the multiverse? They'll buy it. They'll believe in the connection. Then bam! Vault opens, I get my hands on the tech, and we're outta there before they can say 'intergalactic spiritual nonsense.'"
Morty's head spun, trying to keep up with the twisted logic. "So this whole ritual thing… it's just to convince them? You don't actually care about any of it, do you? You just want the tech?"
Rick raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smirk. "Of course, Morty. The ritual's just a means to an end. But don't worry, it'll be… enlightening for you. Maybe you'll come out of it a little less, uh, Morty-like."
Morty groaned, the pit in his stomach growing deeper. "This sounds like it's gonna be bad. Like, really bad."
Rick shrugged, already fiddling with the settings on his portal gun, the machine on the bench humming louder. "Eh, bad's relative. Think of it as a learning opportunity. Or just don't think about it at all. That's usually what works best for you."
Morty clenched his fists, his palms sweating even more now. The machine Rick had been tinkering with back in the garage whirred to life as they stood at the edge of the swirling atmosphere of Bux'ran. It was bulky and mismatched, a Frankenstein of wires, blinking lights, and alien tech Morty couldn't even begin to understand. Rick, of course, handled it with the same nonchalance he reserved for all his dangerous toys, flipping a few switches and muttering under his breath.
"Alright, Morty, forget the portal gun for this one. We're doing this the fun way—old-school dimensional displacement with a side of quantum resonance. It's gonna tear a hole in space and time, just for us," Rick said, grinning widely as he patted the metal casing of the device. "Way more elegant than just shooting a hole into the fabric of reality."
Morty's heart skipped a beat as Rick's words sank in. He didn't know what half of them meant, but they never seemed to spell anything good. "Wait, what? Rick, that—that doesn't sound, uh, stable. You said this thing was ready to go?"
Rick glanced at him with a smirk, wires still hanging loosely from the device. "Ready enough. What's the worst that can happen? It blows up? Pfft, we've survived worse explosions. Now stand back. You're about to witness the glory of real interdimensional science, Morty."
Morty did as he was told, taking a few hesitant steps back, his legs wobbling beneath him. The machine beeped and clicked as Rick fiddled with the settings, seemingly unfazed by the idea that one wrong move could tear them both apart molecule by molecule. The air around them grew denser, and Morty swore he could feel the static electricity building, making the hair on his arms stand up.
With a final, confident twist of a dial, Rick slammed his fist on a large red button, and the machine roared into action. A brilliant surge of energy shot from the device, crackling through the air, distorting everything around them as space itself seemed to warp. The machine emitted a high-pitched whine, vibrating violently as an otherworldly light formed, swirling into a vortex that expanded in front of them.
"Alright, Morty, hold onto your butt! We're about to get sucked through this baby, right to the heart of Bux'ran. Gonna be a bit of a bumpy ride," Rick called over the noise, barely containing his glee as the portal stabilized.
Morty's eyes widened, panic bubbling up inside him as the light intensified. "W-wait, what? What do you mean 'bumpy'? Rick, I—"
Before he could finish, the machine pulsed, and the ground beneath their feet vanished. Morty felt the sudden lurch of gravity being torn away, and in the blink of an eye, they were pulled through the vortex, tumbling headfirst into the unknown.
Everything around them spun in a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Morty's stomach twisted violently as they hurtled through space and time, his body feeling like it was being stretched, compressed, and twisted all at once. Rick, meanwhile, let out a loud whoop of excitement, arms flung wide as they careened through the chaotic energy.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
With a hard thud, Morty hit solid ground, the breath knocked from his lungs as he landed awkwardly. His vision swam for a moment before settling into clarity. Groaning, he blinked up at the strange sky of Bux'ran, now surrounding him in full, oppressive detail—the purple and green haze, the towering stone structures, the heavy atmosphere that felt like it was pressing down on him.
Rick landed beside him, completely unfazed, his lab coat billowing out as he brushed himself off. "See, Morty? Smooth as butter."
Morty wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "Smooth?! I thought we were gonna die! That—that was horrible, Rick!"
Rick gave him a casual shrug, still clutching the device that had brought them there. "You always think we're gonna die, Morty. This is interdimensional travel we're talking about, not a freakin' school field trip." He paused, glancing around at the alien landscape. "Anyway, we're here. Welcome to Bux'ran, home of the ancient tech I'm about to get my hands on. Just gotta do a little bonding ritual first."
Morty groaned, his head spinning as he tried to push himself to his feet. "Yeah, great. A bonding ritual. Can't wait…"
Rick hauled Morty up by the arm, ignoring his complaints as they stumbled forward into the heart of Bux'ran. The alien architecture loomed overhead, casting jagged shadows across the ground, like a planet-sized riddle carved in stone. As they approached the towering entrance to what looked like a massive temple, the faint sound of chanting echoed in the air.
Before Morty had a chance to voice another protest, a figure emerged from the temple's entrance—a tall, robed Bux'ran priest, his alien features severe yet calm, his skin a deep emerald hue. His eyes, large and pupil-less, flicked between Rick and Morty as if assessing them in some way Morty didn't quite understand.
Rick straightened up, putting on his best "I'm totally respectful" face, which was really just his usual face, minus a few extra smirks. "Hey, buddy," Rick said, raising a hand in greeting. "We're here for your little, uh, bonding ceremony. Gotta pass the ritual, yadda yadda, and then we'll just—"
The priest held up a long, slender hand, silencing Rick with a surprising authority. Morty gulped, trying to avoid eye contact as the priest regarded them both, his gaze lingering on Morty with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably.
"There is tension," the priest said in a voice that seemed to resonate through the air itself, a deep vibration that made Morty's skin crawl. "Your bond is not yet balanced. The ritual will be more… challenging than expected."
Morty's eyes widened in alarm, his anxiety spiking as he shot a desperate glance at Rick. "T-tension? What does he mean, Rick? I thought this was supposed to be some—some basic ritual thing! I don't—I don't like the sound of 'challenging'!"
Rick rolled his eyes, waving off the priest's concerns with a casual flick of his hand. "Eh, don't listen to him, Morty. These guys live off drama. Their whole culture's built around making everything sound more intense than it actually is. It's fine." He turned to the priest, narrowing his eyes. "What's the first step? Let's get this show on the road."
The priest's expression didn't change, his alien eyes still fixed on the two of them as he gestured toward the temple. "The ritual requires that you confront the nature of your bond. If the connection is weak, the path ahead will be fraught with difficulty. Only those with true trust and unity can proceed without harm."
Morty felt his stomach twist again. "Without harm? Rick, what is this guy talking about?"
Rick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Morty, relax. It's just a ritual. Probably a few fancy lights and smoke and some weird chanting. Just stay close, don't mess it up, and we'll be in and out before you can—"
"The first step," the priest interrupted, his voice taking on a ceremonial tone, "is a physical demonstration of trust. Only by revealing your vulnerability to each other can the bond be tested."
Morty's face paled, and his heart raced in panic. "W-wait, wait, hold on. What kind of 'vulnerability' are we talking about here?"
The priest didn't respond directly. Instead, he turned and began walking toward the center of the temple, the grand entrance opening wide to reveal a massive chamber filled with intricate carvings, glowing runes, and a raised platform in the center. The air inside was thick with a strange, otherworldly energy that made Morty's skin tingle uncomfortably.
Rick marched forward without hesitation, already grumbling under his breath. "Let's get this over with. These rituals are always so overblown. It's all show, Morty, don't sweat it."
But Morty was sweating it. Every step inside the temple felt heavier than the last, like some unseen force was weighing him down. By the time they reached the platform, he could barely keep up with Rick, who, as usual, seemed completely unfazed.
The priest stopped at the platform's edge, gesturing for them to stand together on the raised stone. His eyes bore into them with an unsettling calm. "The bond will be tested now. If it is found wanting, the ritual will become more perilous."
Morty's hands shook as he climbed up beside Rick. His heart hammered in his chest, and he couldn't stop the endless loop of fear racing through his mind. "R-Rick… I don't know, man. What if we mess this up? What if—what if something goes wrong?"
Rick snorted, barely sparing him a glance. "Morty, for the last time, nothing's gonna go wrong. These guys want us to succeed. They're practically setting us up to win." He turned to the priest. "Alright, what's next? Do we have to chant or something? Swear eternal loyalty?"
The priest's gaze flickered with something that might have been amusement, though it was hard to tell with his alien features. "You will perform a gesture of trust. The elder bond dictates that you must share a vulnerability—something deeply personal. Only then can the path be opened."
Rick scoffed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Share a vulnerability? What is this, therapy?"
But before Rick could make another sarcastic comment, the priest raised his hands, and the glowing runes on the floor beneath them began to pulse with light. The energy in the room intensified, filling the air with a strange, almost magnetic force that tugged at Morty's chest.
Morty stumbled, his breath catching in his throat. "R-Rick, what's happening? I-I don't like this!"
Rick opened his mouth to respond, but then his expression shifted—just for a second. It was the briefest flicker of hesitation, the tiniest crack in his usual wall of arrogance. For a moment, it looked like even Rick was feeling the weight of the ritual.
"Just stay cool, Morty," Rick muttered, his voice lower, quieter than usual. "We've got this." But there was something in his tone that made Morty's skin crawl. Something… uncertain.
The priest's voice echoed through the chamber once again. "Reveal your vulnerability to each other. Only then will the ritual continue."
Get the chapter a day early on our writing group's blog https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blog.