I stand on the observation deck of my weapons manufacturing planet, Morty Arms. A planet I've carved out from nothing, built on the foundation of efficient Meeseeks and laser-focused ambition. The operations are running smoothly, at least for now, with Meeseeks workers handling everything from assembly lines to quality control. I've upgraded their boxes to minimize errors, even downgraded some of the functions to make sure they're not too... erratic. I need precision.
After our slight scuffle with the citadel Rick and I's partnership hasn't gotten any better. In fact it declined. He was still suspicious of my supposed sudden intelligence gain and I hadn't necessarily made it better by sharing his guardedness.
I'd need to figure out how to deal with that soon.
Shifting focus back A thousand Meeseeks rush around the industrial zone below, assembling weapons, packaging ammo, testing gadgets—all of it seamless, all of it mine. Every single weapon that leaves this planet will be under my watchful eye. I've got to make sure the product is top-notch, but not to much so no one—no one—can mess with my business empire.
I'm practically swimming in credits and flurbos, my arms trade booming, but I'm not satisfied. Not yet. There's always something to improve, always something to optimize. I can see it in my mind—this place could be even more efficient, more secure, but right now, I've gotta keep my cool. Rick's getting suspicious. His sharp eyes have been following me a little too closely lately, and I can't afford to slip up. The last thing I need is him poking around Morty Arms.
I lean over the balcony and gaze down at the sprawling production plant below. I'm surrounded by factories and Meeseeks labor camps. Their boxes hum with the low frequency of focused work, doing what they were created to do—helping me expand my business. But the boxes I handed the Meeseeks are even weaker than they used to be. After a Less than pleasant experience with a customer who'd held oneof our guns in their hands and quickly got it shot off. I had to make them less, volatile, and more obedient. A small tweak in the algorithms, a little downgrade in their efficiency, just to keep them from turning into those unpredictable disaster zones that could get me killed.
But even with all the upgrades and fixes, I can't shake the feeling that I'm still missing something. That there's something more I can do to push this planet to the next level. More weapons, more firepower. If I could just scale things faster, maybe I could corner a bigger piece of the market—something bigger than just the basic guns and blasters. I need something unique, something that'll separate me from the competition. Maybe specialized weapons—things you can't get anywhere else.
I turn away from the balcony and head into my command center, tapping into the Meeseeks control system. They're all running flawlessly now. Sure, there's some occasional mishap—one Meeseeks getting a little too zealous with testing a flamethrower or another blowing up a mini workshop—but nothing I can't handle. It's all about keeping them on task. Meeseeks are the perfect workforce, but they can't think ahead. They're simple tools, but I'm the one pulling the strings.
"Meeseeks, continue with production line 14, ensure all units are calibrated to Code Red parameters," I issue my command, the words sharp and deliberate. I can't afford a single misstep.
I pause, a thought creeping into my head. Rick. he just wouldn't leave my mind. But the thought process wasn't merely about him but the events that happened throughout the citadel. I looked down at my collar almost curiously.
Looking back on it, I still can't fully explain what happened that day. It's like everything clicked into place in a way I never expected. The forge—it changed me. I didn't even know it at the time, but during the chase against the Citadel dodging those laser hadn't been a mere coincidence and delving deeper there was no chance I could have found the collar without some sort of link to it.
The more I've been thinking about it, the more I realize Rick's probably got some idea of what's going on. Ever since the Evil Rick incident, he's been giving me that side-eye, watching me like I'm some kind of ticking time bomb. It's been making me uneasy. He doesn't know the full story—doesn't know the collar's real power, the way it's changing me, but there's always that inkling in the back of my mind. It's only a matter of time before he figures it out. If I'm being honest, part of me wants him to figure it out just to see the look on his face when he realizes I've taken control of my destiny, but that was the morty part of me talking the other part of me knows how dangerous it would be to have him breathing down my neck while I'm trying to expand Morty Arms.
Maybe it's time to do something about that.
Before I can dwell on it too long, I hear a beeping sound coming from my terminal. A new message: "Rick C-137 sending a transmission: 'You've got some explaining to do, kid.'"
My stomach twists. It's exactly what I was afraid of. The last thing I need is Rick breathing down my neck, poking around my empire. But it's not just about the business. It's about the collar. My intellect. He's definitely noticed the changes, and as much as I try to hide it, he's been putting the pieces together.
I suppress a sigh. This isn't good. I've gotta act fast. There's no room for mistakes. Not now.
I rush to the communications panel and hit the button. The screen flickers and then reveals Rick's face, looking annoyingly smug as usual.
he couldn't see what was going around me just my face and that was it.
"Morty," he says, his voice sharp, "We need to talk. About everything."
I try to stay calm. "What's there to talk about, Rick?" I said with a almost to straight smile.
Rick raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, its abut your name. why does the entire galactic black market suddenly know your name? Morty, you've been making moves, and I don't like the direction this is heading."
I could feel the pressure mounting. If I didn't play my cards right, everything I've built could come crashing down. The collar's effects are only getting stronger, and I don't think Rick's ever going to let me live this down.
I narrow my eyes. "I'm just doing what I've gotta do, Rick. You know how it is. Not everyone gets to sit around in their garage all day and tinker with useless inventions."
Rick's eyes flicker with something—suspicion, maybe. But I can't let him get to me. Not now.
I lean in closer, my voice low and firm. "If you think I'm gonna stop because you're paranoid about me getting smarter, you're wrong. Its nothing to serious anyways."
Rick stares at me for a long moment, but then, in typical Rick fashion, he shrugs.
"Fine, Morty. Keep playing your little games. But remember... I'm watching. And one of these days, you're gonna regret thinking you can outsmart me."
I can feel my heart pounding, but I hold my ground. "I'll be waiting for that day, Rick."
As the transmission cuts off, I breathe a sigh of relief. But even with that win, something nags at me. I know I'm on borrowed time.
Rick's watching. And he's not going to stop until he figures out what I'm really up to.
But for now, I'm in control. And I'm not going to let him or anyone else take that from me.