The med bay's soft hum echoed around the rebellion's base, but Morty's mind was already racing ahead. Summer was stable, her life no longer hanging by a thread, but the presence of Vaxon—this cold, calculating member of Evil Morty's council—had left a deeper mark on all of them. They had come face to face with one of their enemies, and they barely escaped with their lives. It was clear now; this council wasn't just a shadowy myth. They were real, powerful, and their plans were far more dangerous than Morty had imagined.
Morty sat in the war room, staring at the map of the multiverse spread out before him. It was littered with dimensional anomalies, areas of instability that stretched like red scars across the galaxy of timelines. Rick was at his side, his eyes focused on a holographic display, while Summer lay in the med bay, recovering under constant watch. They needed a plan, and they needed it fast.
Vaxon's face haunted Morty's mind. The way he'd flicked his wrist to deflect Summer's shot as if it was nothing, the cold amusement in his eyes as he watched them struggle—this wasn't just another enemy. Vaxon was a strategist, a manipulator. And he wasn't acting alone. He was the first of seven, and they needed to prepare for the rest.
Rick broke the silence, his voice gruff and laced with barely contained anger. "Alright, Morty. We've seen one of these guys in action, and he's no lightweight. If Vaxon is any indication of what we're up against, we need to assume that each member of this council is just as dangerous—or worse."
Morty nodded, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "Yeah, Vaxon's not just some random thug. He's precise, calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing back there, like he was playing chess while we were playing checkers."
Rick's fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up a series of data points on the screen. "I've been running simulations, cross-referencing everything we know about dimensional anomalies since Evil Morty's rise. If we're going to track down the rest of this council, we need to think like them. We need to figure out what their next move is before they make it."
Morty's eyes drifted over the highlighted dimensions on the map. Most of them were areas they'd already identified as unstable—places where the fabric of reality was fraying at the seams. But something caught his eye: a small, isolated sector that didn't fit the usual pattern. A cluster of dimensions with minimal activity, almost too quiet compared to the chaos around them.
"What's that?" Morty pointed at the sector, curiosity tinged with suspicion.
Rick zoomed in on the sector, his brow furrowing as he analyzed the data. "Huh. That's odd. These dimensions aren't showing any significant fluctuations, no temporal anomalies, no interdimensional disturbances. It's like they're untouched by everything happening around them."
"Exactly," Morty said, a spark of realization flickering in his eyes. "That's what makes them suspicious. We've been looking for chaos, for instability, but maybe these guys are hiding in plain sight—in the calmest places. They could be using these stable dimensions as a base of operations, somewhere they can plan without interference."
Rick's eyes lit up with that familiar glint of reckless excitement. "Good thinking, Morty! If they're smart enough to avoid the chaos, they'll pick dimensions that don't draw attention. Low activity, no red flags. We might be onto something."
Summer, who had insisted on joining them despite still looking pale from her injuries, leaned heavily against the table. Her face was determined, her eyes sharp despite the pain etched on her features. "So, what's the plan? We kick down their door and drag the rest of these bastards out?"
Morty shook his head, his voice steady and controlled. "Not yet. Vaxon and his crew aren't just hiding; they're watching us. We can't afford to rush in blind again. We need more intel on their movements, more on how they're connected. If we expose ourselves too soon, they'll see us coming."
Rick grinned, his eyes dancing with a dangerous light. "Then let's set a trap of our own. We lure them out—force their hand. We make them come to us."
"How?" Summer asked, wincing slightly as she shifted her weight but keeping her focus on Morty and Rick.
Morty met her gaze, the determination burning in his eyes. "We create a fake anomaly. We stage an event that looks like a massive dimensional tear—a destabilization that would normally draw Evil Morty's allies in to contain or exploit it. If we make it convincing enough, they'll have to send someone to investigate."
Rick's smirk grew wider, clearly impressed. "Now you're talking, Morty! We can manipulate the dimensional signatures to look like a temporal rupture—a big, flashy problem they won't be able to ignore. When they come sniffing around, we nab them, follow them back to their lair, and pick off the rest of the council one by one."
Summer's eyes gleamed with a fierce satisfaction. "And when they least expect it, we hit them where it hurts. Let's see how smug Vaxon is when he's running with his tail between his legs."
Morty nodded, feeling the fire of resolve reignite within him. "We've got to be smarter than them this time. We can't just react to what they do—we have to make them dance to our tune."
Rick wasted no time. He began pulling out pieces of tech, modifying a dimensional stabilizer and linking it to a localized energy generator. His hands moved like a blur, a mixture of genius and madness as he worked to build the device that would bait their enemies into revealing themselves.
"This is gonna be a multiversal catnip," Rick said, grinning like a mad scientist. "A simulated tear that'll look like it's got the power to unravel whole sectors if left unchecked. Any idiot with half a brain trying to control the multiverse will come running to either stop it or steal it."
Morty watched as Rick worked, the scope of their plan slowly taking shape in his mind. They were setting a trap for monsters that could bend reality, a council of beings who operated in the dark corners of the multiverse. It was risky, it was reckless, and it was their best shot.
"Rick," Morty said, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice. "Are we ready for this? I mean, are we really ready to face the rest of them? Vaxon nearly killed Summer, and he was just one of them."
Rick paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked at Morty. "Morty, we might never be fully ready for this kind of fight. These guys are playing a game where the rules are written in a language we barely understand. But that's not gonna stop us. We're Smiths—we do whatever it takes to protect each other, even when the odds are against us."
Summer nodded, her voice firm despite the weariness in her eyes. "Morty, we've got each other's backs. We might not be perfect, and we might screw up along the way, but we're not going to let these psychos tear our family apart. Not now, not ever."
Morty looked at them both—his grandfather and his sister, standing with him in the middle of this impossible fight. For the first time, he didn't feel like the scared kid trailing behind Rick's wild schemes. He felt like a leader, a fighter, someone who could stand toe-to-toe with the darkness that threatened to consume them all.
"Alright," Morty said, a fierce smile breaking across his face. "Let's get this done. Let's draw these bastards out and show them they're not the only ones who know how to play dirty."
Rick sealed the final component into the device and activated it. The air around them shimmered as the simulation began to hum to life, emitting waves of energy that mimicked a real dimensional rupture. The illusion was so convincing, Morty could almost feel the multiverse bending around them, reacting to the tear they'd just created.
As they watched the data flow across the screens, monitoring for any sign of movement from Evil Morty's council, Morty felt a surge of hope. They were no longer playing catch-up; they were setting the pace, taking the initiative.
"Now we wait," Rick said, leaning back with a satisfied look on his face. "Let's see which one of those interdimensional puppeteers takes the bait first."
Morty stared at the monitor, his jaw clenched in determination. He knew that the next encounter wouldn't be like the last. They'd been caught off guard by Vaxon, unprepared for the level of power and precision he wielded. But now, they were ready. Now, they were going to turn the tables.
And when the next member of Evil Morty's council showed their face, they'd be walking straight into Morty's trap.
This time, Morty wasn't going to let any of them get away.
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