Rick Losing lt
Throw stone at me l deserve it. Drop stone comment as well.
Every 50 stone l would post an extra chapter how about that
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The garage hummed with the low static of dying neon, its walls soaked in that faint chemical musk only Rick ever seemed to notice. Tools sat half-assembled on the workbench, gadgets cracked open mid-dissection, wires spilling like robotic entrails across the metal surface.
And dead center small, unremarkable, humming with the faintest pulse of otherworldly energy lay the chip.
Rick sat hunched on his stool, elbows on his knees, bottle dangling loose in one hand. His eyes pinned the chip like a hunter staring down prey he wasn't sure he wanted to shoot.
It didn't blink.
Didn't pulse.
Just sat there waiting.
Rick took a slow swig, the burn cutting soft down his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, tongue running over his teeth before the words slipped out, low, half a mutter.
"So… this is where we're at, huh?"
The chip didn't answer.
Rick snorted, leaned back just enough to take in the clutter of his garage the tools, the mess, the wreckage of fifteen projects abandoned for this one thought gnawing at his brain.
"You'd think I'd be past this point by now," he muttered. "Paranoid old man sitting in his garage, talking to a glorified USB stick like it's got the answers."
The chip gave no flicker, no hum.
Rick leaned forward again, resting his forearms on his knees. His eyes stayed sharp, fixed.
"Except you do… don't you?"
The chip hummed soft, low, like a heartbeat under glass.
He swallowed hard.
"They Pulled you off a planet that eats memories, rewrites consciousness, flips people inside out without leaving a scratch. You weren't supposed to come back intact."
Rick let out a soft laugh sharp, humorless.
"But you did."
He dragged a hand down his face, letting his fingers linger over his mouth. His eyes didn't leave the chip.
"And now you're sitting here… like you're waiting for me to admit I've been ignoring you."
The hum didn't change.
Rick let his hand drop.
"I don't ignore things like you."
He tapped the edge of the bench with his boot, letting the soft clang echo into the quiet.
"Pulled enough data out of you to crash two galactic mainframes… but I didn't ask the one question that matters."
He stared. Hard.
"What the hell happened to Morty?"
Silence.
Rick's mouth tightened.
"Because this isn't him. And I've seen enough alternate versions to know when something's off. The stutter's gone. The nerves gone. The kid's looking me dead in the eye like he's daring me to call him out."
The chip pulsed once faint, barely there.
Rick's jaw tightened.
"And maybe that should've been the end of it. Maybe I should've hit the button, cracked his head open, read the data… but I didn't."
He leaned forward, elbows digging into the bench now, hands steepled in front of him. His voice dropped, quiet, raw at the edges.
"Because some twisted part of me… wants this to be nothing."
The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
"I want this to be hormones. I want this to be a teenage power trip. I want this to be Morty finally growing a pair."
His eyes locked onto the chip, hard as glass.
"But it's not… is it?"
No answer. Just that soft, steady hum.
Rick exhaled slow, shoulders tight beneath his lab coat.
"He's walking like a man who's done this before. Talking like he knows how this ends. Staring at me like I'm the one who should be afraid."
He shook his head a sharp, humorless chuckle sliding out.
"Morty's a lot of things… but he's never been that."
His hand hovered over the chip fingers twitching.
"I should've crushed you the second I got back. I should've burned you, rewired you… dropped you in a black hole and called it a day."
The chip hummed.
Rick's lips pulled into a thin, tight line.
"But I didn't. You sat on my bench for three days. Three. Fucking. DAYS."
His hand dropped to the table, fist closing loose around nothing.
"And now he's walking around like a shark in my house… while I'm sitting here asking a piece of alien tech for permission to put him under a scope."
The hum pressed soft against the air a sound so faint Rick wasn't sure if it was real or just inside his head.
He let out a breath long, low.
"You ever see your own hand on the switch… and wonder if it's already too late to pull it?"
The chip sat silent.
Rick stared. The muscles in his jaw flickered once.
He let his words drop softer a whisper of thought sliding past his lips.
"Is this what I wanted to do?"
He swallowed hard.
"Is this really where I'm at?"
He leaned back again, running both hands through his hair, dragging them hard across his scalp.
"Interrogate my own grandson… like a lab rat."
The air felt heavy not thick, not choking… just dense with something Rick didn't want to name.
He looked down.
At the chip.
At the bench.
At the faint, unblinking hum.
He let the words come quiet.
"…Or did I always know it would come to this?"
The chip didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Rick closed his eyes for a long moment letting the silence sink its claws in deep.
When he opened them, his hand moved slow, deliberate reaching for the chip.
His fingers brushed its edge.
The hum pulsed under his skin faint, cold, alive.
Rick's jaw set.
And his voice dropped low, steady.
"Alright… let's see who you really are."
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Next chapter will be a bomb