2There is just something about this dark series that draws me in. Might be my depression or pessimism, but this just fascinates me. I'm completely caught up with the series.
I've decided to go through and edit this story. Chapters will be posted as I finish them.
Over one hundred Ricks strode forward purposefully, too drunk to be nervous as they followed the unknown Morty. The boy said nothing to them, tapping on a screen as he walked through the winding passages. He glanced up whenever they reached branching hallways, turning this way and that as he led the Ricks deep under the mountain, past rooms full of other Mortys working on assigned tasks.
The Ricks, as rude as ever, were restless, muttering amongst themselves. They had only just escaped death, getting away with mere moments to spare. The Morty that had been elected President of the Citadel of Ricks had gloatingly left them in a room to be sliced to pieces, gassed, and incinerated. When a portal had been opened, they took the chance and leapt through only to find themselves inside a large cavern set into a mountain. The Morty they were following had been waiting, closing the portal behind them and leading them beneath the mountain.
"Where are w-we going, Morty?" Rick Z-42 demanded after a particularly long belch. They had just taken the center fork of a tunnel, and the Ricks were beginning to doubt that they were actually safe, especially with all the Mortys that paused and stared at them as they passed.
"T-t-to the m-main hall," the Morty stammered, his voice soft but his tone firm. "You must meet th-th-the Great Morty."
"W-what makes him so great?" Rick 69T-Beta growled, and the other Ricks snarled their agreement.
"Y-you'll see," the Morty said and refused to explain any further.
The Ricks grew more uneasy. Their minds were still sharp in their drunken states, and they worried that not only this 'Great Morty' had become cocky, but that the Morty they were following was on his way. Mortys never spoke to Ricks like that, and fear bubbled up in their hearts. The Ricks covered up their feelings the way they always did: by swigging out of their flasks and burping.
After another five minutes and several more turns, the unknown Morty led them into an enormous cavern. The markings on the wall suggested that the room had been hollowed out with special tools. The Ricks glared at the forty or so Mortys that were bustling about, no doubt doing the tasks that the so-called 'Great Morty' had bidden them to. The Morty led them into the space then went up a small set of stairs that put him in a more authoritative position. The Ricks kicked back more of their liquor, trying to hide their discomfort.
The Morty stopped at the top of the platform, finally putting the device he had been typing on aside. Another Morty took it and walked over to an enormous computer to plug it in. The Morty, wearing a blood-red cloak, glanced around.
"I-if you would be so k-kind as to w-w-wait here," he said unflinchingly, "I w-will go and t-tell the G-Great M-M-Morty of your arrival."
The Ricks drank deeply as the unknown Morty walked into a passageway beside the computer. It led down deeper under the mountain to the rooms of the Mortys. Most of the rooms were communal with bathrooms connected. However, the Great Morty had his own set of rooms. The other Mortys, though they looked up to him, couldn't live around him. Only the red-cloaked Morty was close with him, and that had been hard enough.
The Morty paused outside of the door to his leader's rooms. He took a deep breath and gave three knocks, waited for a few moments, then opened the door. Walking in, he found the Great Morty seated in a cushioned armchair, staring deep into a purple fire with his thoughts. The other Morty was reluctant to interrupt, but the Great Morty had commanded it.
"S-s-sir?" he asked as he closed the door behind him.
"Yes, U3945?" he asked in a low tone, his eyes glazed over. He didn't need to look because U3945 was the only one who ever dared to enter his rooms.
"It's happened. W-we brought the R-Ricks here. They are…impatient."
"When isn't Rick im-impatient?" was the murmured reply.
Silence ensued for a few moments, neither Morty moving. After about a minute, the Great Morty shook off his melancholy thoughts with a sigh. He swung on a dark cloak, tying it neatly before picked up a flask, identical to the Ricks' flasks. Morty U3945 looked away uncomfortably as his leader unscrewed the cap and took a long draught. The Great Morty swallowed the burning liquid with too much ease for a fifteen-year-old then capped his drink and placed the flask back onto the table beside his chair.
"Let's get out there then," he said, his voice never rising above a soft, distant voice. All the Mortys had come to realize the tone came from a fractured mind, but none knew why it was so fractured except for U3945. As the Great Morty headed for the door, the red-cloaked boy gave a hesitant smile.
"Maybe your Rick is out there?" he suggested.
"I suppose," came the quiet response, and U3945 dropped the topic.
The Great Morty flipped up his hood as they walked back to the main cavern. As soon as they exited the hallway, all the Ricks looked up at them, narrowing their eyes as they took in the hooded boy. The lesser Morty drew back, staring at his leader and feeling sorry for him. There were so many Ricks, and it would be hard for anybody to talk to them, but for a Morty to do it, even one as strong as the Great Morty?
But even U3945 was surprised that his leader said not a word as the shouting began. Their questions, no matter how rude, went unanswered. The Great Morty kept his face hidden and his head bowed. One by one, the Ricks realized that something was wrong with this Morty. He wasn't acting as cocky as they had assumed he would. Was he really cocky? Most of them tried to shrug off the fact that they were unsure by taking a long drink from their flasks. They didn't know what to say, and most of them wandered around, grumbling about the scientific equipment that covered the walls. One Rick finally meandered up the stairs and stared at the Great Morty.
"Which one are—eugh—you?" he asked. No answer. "Do you have a Rick?"
The Rick rubbed the back of his neck at the disturbing lack of response.
"I'm C-137."
"Where's your Morty?" Morty U3945 asked when his leader stayed silent.
"You know, around," Rick said evasively. "P-probably spending time with his lame f-family."
The Great Morty simply turned and walked away, leaving his follower and Rick to themselves. Rick frowned and watched him leave.
"What's his problem?" Rick demanded, turning to U3945.
Morty U3945 measured his response carefully. "He-He's been through something. He doesn't talk much to anybody but me, and even then, it's not a-a lot."
"What's going on here?" Rick C-137 asked, gesturing around vaguely.
That was a question that had an easy answer. "Evil Morty is trying to k-k-kill all the R-Ricks. Our leader built a portal to the Gr-Grand Citadel to get as many Ricks to-safety as possible. T-today we started with you and the others t-that came w-w-with you. The G-Great Morty found Mortys who agreed with him that Ricks are w-worth saving. H-he's f-fighting E-E-Evil Morty for the r-rights of Ricks everywhere."
"Hm. Guess we're idiots when it comes to Mortys, aren't we?" Rick asked grimly with a burp, grabbing his flask and drinking deeply. "Seems like most Mortys are abused and stupid."
"The Great Morty knows that you R-Ricks care for us. Some-Somewhere inside, deep in-inside you do."
Rick didn't argue. Instead, he stared out across the numerous Ricks and Mortys. "Yeah," he finally said, so soft that U3945 almost didn't hear it.
After a pause, the red-cloaked Morty asked. "S-So where's your Morty?"
"Dead," Rick answered gruffly.
Walking down the stairs, he took another large swig to hide his pain. U3945 watched him go, aching to tell him that his Morty was alive. But his loyalty to his leader prevented him from speaking up. His eyes remained locked on that Rick, who didn't look around or talk to anybody else. U3945 realized that Rick C-137 was just as broken as his Morty. Shaking his head, the red-cloaked Morty moved to talk to as many Ricks as possible, trying to push away the emotions that threatened to make him cry. But he didn't cry. He couldn't. Ricks looked down on it, and he had to be strong in front of them. He just wished he didn't have to.
