By: FireBloodandTruth
The runes continued to pulse beneath their feet, casting an eerie glow that made the entire temple seem alive. Morty could feel it now—the weight of the ritual pressing down on him, like the air itself was watching, waiting for them to crack. His heart raced in his chest, pounding in rhythm with the strange light. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, sneaking a glance at Rick, who looked as detached as ever, though there was something unsettling about the way Rick's eyes narrowed, the faintest twitch in his cheek.
The Bux'ran priest stood perfectly still, his alien face inscrutable, like he was merely a vessel for the will of the temple itself. "The bond must be made strong," the priest intoned, his deep voice resonating in the stone chamber. "Trust is required. Vulnerability is demanded."
Morty swallowed hard. Vulnerability? What did that even mean here? He wasn't exactly known for his strength, let alone his ability to handle anything Rick threw at him. Morty had spent most of his life feeling vulnerable—especially with Rick at his side. What could he possibly offer now, in the middle of some alien bonding ritual, that would satisfy these mysterious beings?
"Uh, Rick?" Morty whispered, trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably. "I—I don't know what to say, man. I mean, I don't even know what they want from us. This isn't—this isn't like one of your normal, y'know, crazy alien scams or whatever! This feels… different."
Rick rolled his eyes, as if Morty's panic was little more than a mild inconvenience. "It's always different, Morty. Every alien culture thinks they're special. This is just another hoop to jump through to get what we need." He glanced at the priest, then back at Morty, lowering his voice. "Look, you just gotta spill some deep, emotional crap. Doesn't matter if it's real or not, just make it sound good, alright?"
Morty's mouth went dry. "What? I—Rick, I don't—what am I supposed to say?"
Rick sighed dramatically, like he was dealing with a particularly slow student in a lecture. "I don't know, Morty. Tell them how you feel like a cosmic punching bag. Or how you've been dragged through a thousand hellish dimensions and all you really wanted was a normal life." Rick's eyes gleamed with a sarcastic edge, but there was something deeper there too, something that didn't quite match his usual bravado. "You've got plenty of material, Morty. Use it."
The room felt like it was shrinking, the walls pressing in closer as Morty's panic grew. He could barely think straight. Was that what they wanted? Some kind of emotional confession? Some raw, honest thing about how messed up his life had become thanks to Rick? How he felt trapped in this cycle of danger and insanity?
Morty's eyes darted to the priest, who stood silent and expectant, his long fingers steepled in front of him like he was waiting for something profound.
"I… I don't know if I can do this, Rick," Morty whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the runes. "What if—what if I mess it up? What if we fail?"
Rick didn't respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on the glowing floor, his brow furrowed in thought. For a moment, Morty thought he might actually be considering the gravity of the situation. Then Rick shrugged, the tension in his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"You're not gonna mess it up, Morty," Rick said, his tone uncharacteristically soft. "You've survived worse. Trust me."
The words hung in the air between them, heavier than Morty expected. Something about the way Rick said it made him pause. There was an honesty in Rick's voice that felt out of place, almost as if, for once, Rick wasn't just blowing smoke.
Morty took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to say. "Okay, um, here goes, I guess…"
"I feel—" Morty's voice faltered for a moment, then he forced himself to continue. "I feel like… like I'm always scared. Like every day is this constant battle between trying to keep up with you and not getting killed in the process. I don't know if you get it, Rick, but sometimes, I wish I could just be normal. I—I wish I could have a life that wasn't all about running from monsters or escaping exploding planets or… or whatever."
The room was silent except for the hum of the runes. Morty's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for some kind of response—some sign that his words had meant anything.
Rick's eyes flicked over to him, a brief glint of something almost unreadable in his expression before it disappeared behind his usual smirk. "Good job, Morty. Really nailed the emotional trauma angle."
But the priest remained still, unblinking. His expression, rigid and impassive, didn't shift in the slightest.
"No," the priest said, his voice ringing through the chamber with an almost otherworldly resonance. "The bond has not been revealed fully. This is… insufficient."
The temple itself seemed to respond to the priest's words. The ground beneath them trembled, the runes on the floor flaring brighter, casting long shadows across the walls. Morty's breath hitched as the vibrations grew stronger, shaking the air around them with a force that rattled the stones in the ceiling.
"What the hell?" Morty whispered, panic rising in his throat. "Rick, it's—it's not working! What do we do?"
The priest raised his hands again, his gaze piercing as the trembling intensified. "The bond must be fully exposed. Only the truth, your deepest vulnerability, will stabilize the ritual. Without it, this place will collapse, and you will both perish."
Rick scowled, glancing up as the ceiling began to crack, dust and debris falling from above. "Great, more of this dramatic alien ritual bullshit," he muttered. "Okay, Morty, guess you're gonna have to dig deeper. You heard the priest—spill your darkest secret or we're both toast."
Morty's heart pounded so loudly he could barely think. "W-what? I already did! I—I don't know what else to say, Rick! I already told them I'm scared all the time, isn't that enough?!"
The ground shook harder, sending Morty stumbling forward as the walls began to rumble ominously. Rick grabbed him by the arm, shaking his head. "Morty, you're holding back. If you don't say something, and I mean really say something, we're dead. So come on, out with it."
Morty's face flushed red as the weight of Rick's words hit him. What was he supposed to reveal? He'd already admitted how terrified he was, how much his life had spiraled out of control thanks to Rick. But apparently that wasn't enough. He needed something worse. Something darker. Something that made him squirm just thinking about it.
He swallowed hard, his palms sweaty, the heat rising in his cheeks. His eyes darted toward the priest, who was watching him with eerie stillness, and then back to Rick, who looked more annoyed than ever. Morty's throat tightened. He couldn't believe he was about to say it.
"Okay, okay!" Morty stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I… sometimes, when I'm in the garage and no one's around, I—"
The temple shook harder, almost violently, and Morty could feel the judgment of the alien priest bearing down on him. He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. He had to do this. He had to get it out.
"I… I masturbate in here, okay?!" Morty blurted out, his face burning with embarrassment. "In the garage! With—with some of your old shirts because—because it makes it easier, alright?!"
Rick froze, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. The grin that had always seemed so permanent vanished from his face, replaced by something almost unreadable. For once, Rick was speechless.
The room fell deathly silent. Even the shaking stopped, the rumbling halting abruptly as if the temple itself had paused to listen to Morty's humiliating confession. The runes on the floor flickered, their light dimming for a moment, as if they were processing the weight of Morty's words.
Morty, still flushed, kept his eyes firmly on the floor, unable to look at Rick, unable to breathe, as if his whole existence had been laid bare in the most awkward, disgusting way possible.
The priest, still and calm as ever, slowly nodded. "The truth of your bond has been revealed."
Rick blinked, then opened his mouth, still processing what Morty had just said. Finally, he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Jesus, Morty. That's… really something. Really didn't need to know that."
Morty groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I—I didn't want to say it, Rick! But the place was gonna collapse! What was I supposed to do?!"
The priest, oblivious to the awkward exchange, raised his arms again, and the runes on the floor surged with light. The chamber grew brighter, the tension in the air easing as the energy of the ritual shifted, stabilizing.
"The bond has been tested and found worthy," the priest intoned. "The path to the vault is now open."
Rick gave Morty a sidelong glance, shaking his head with a smirk that was more bemused than amused. "Well, kid, I guess you saved our asses. In the most awkward, disturbing way possible, but hey—good job." He paused, frowning slightly. "But we're never talking about this again."
Morty groaned, his face still burning with humiliation. "I… I think I'm gonna puke."
Rick clapped him on the back, grinning wide again as the wall behind the priest slid open, revealing a dark passageway leading to the vault. "Well, you'll have time for that later, Morty. We've got alien tech to steal. Come on!"
With that, Rick strode forward, as casual as ever, while Morty, still mortified, reluctantly followed.
The path ahead, now open, was dark and ominous, but there was no time to dwell on that as Morty tried to regain his composure, his face still burning with embarrassment. The temple walls seemed to press in around them, the air growing heavier as they stepped deeper into the passageway. The runes on the floor continued to glow softly beneath their feet, guiding them forward.
Rick, ever unfazed, strolled confidently ahead, the awkwardness of Morty's confession already seemingly forgotten. Morty, on the other hand, dragged his feet, still reeling from the mortifying admission he'd just made in front of both his grandpa and an alien priest.
"Morty," Rick said, glancing back over his shoulder, "if you're gonna sulk about that whole shirt thing, do it on your own time. We've got alien tech to grab."
Morty grumbled, rubbing his temples. "I—I'm not sulking, Rick, I just… I can't believe I had to say that out loud! You know how—how gross and humiliating that was?!"
Rick shrugged. "Yeah, well, the alternative was getting crushed by a collapsing alien temple, so I think you made the right call. Anyway, looks like we've got one more step before we're in the clear."
As they entered a wider chamber, the passage opened up into a large room filled with strange symbols painted on the walls, more glowing runes, and what looked like ancient, ornate containers lining the edges of the space. Morty's eyes darted around, taking in the bizarre alien artwork. The energy in the room was different—less oppressive, but still charged with something ancient and otherworldly.
In the center of the room stood another pedestal, and on it lay a pair of shallow, intricately designed bowls filled with a thick, shimmering liquid. Beside the bowls were several wide, flat brushes, their bristles delicate and soft, as if they hadn't been used in centuries.
The priest stepped forward, his voice still calm and commanding. "The final step of the bonding ritual requires a physical manifestation of your connection. You must paint one another with these sacred oils, marking your bond upon each other's skin."
Rick raised an eyebrow, clearly less than impressed with the dramatic ceremony. "Seriously? We gotta strip down and finger-paint each other like we're in some alien art class? What is this, a cosmic frat party?"
Morty's heart sank as the priest nodded solemnly. "Your bodies must bear the markings of trust and unity. Only then will the bond be complete, and the vault will open."
Morty's throat tightened. "W-wait, Rick… we have to take off our clothes for this? I—I don't know about this, man. This is getting really weird. Can't we just, I don't know, skip this part?"
Rick let out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes. "Of course it's weird, Morty. It's a dumb alien ritual. Weird's part of the package." He gestured toward the bowls of shimmering liquid. "But we're too far in to back out now. So, let's just get this over with and grab the tech."
Get the chapter a day early on our writing group's blog https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blog.