> “Wait, hold on… The reading on this dimension is weird. It’s registering some artificially suppressed intellect?” He pointed the device at Ayanokōji, fiddling with a side panel. “You’re giving off… I don’t know, some kind of weird signature, like you’re not operating at your full potential. That’s bananas.”
Ayanokōji’s eyes flicked to the portal gun warily.
> “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Rick sniffed, letting out a dismissive tch.
> “Kid, I’ve seen a million different versions of overachieving, super-powered prodigies. Your metrics are spiking on my scanner, but you’re intentionally dumbing yourself down. *Why*? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day, and I’ve been to a dimension where frogs run a global financial system.”
Ayanokōji blinked once, then spoke quietly.
> “My reasons are my own. Sometimes it’s easier to blend in when you don’t stand out.”
Rick frowned, rummaging for a metal flask in his coat. He took a swig.
> “So you’re some kind of… I don’t know, stealth-brainiac? [He’s basically a Morty with even more emotional control. Or maybe an Evil Morty… those always cause problems.]”
There was a short silence. Ayanokōji eventually broke it.
> “Am I in any danger because of you?”
Rick shrugged.
> “Probably not. I only blow up dimensions when they really annoy me. This one’s just… *meh*.” Then he cocked an eyebrow. “But you’re interesting. You remind me of… well, me, if I were forced to go through some messed-up training camp as a kid.”
> “Messed-up training camp?” Ayanokōji repeated. Something in Rick’s words hinted that he could see more than Ayanokōji let on.
> “Look, kid, let’s just say I can sniff out messed-up backstories—call it a side effect of skipping around different realities. You’re calm, collected, and borderline emotionless… that doesn’t come from a normal suburban upbringing. But hey, not my problem,” Rick said with a shrug, tapping at the portal gun again.
A faint beep indicated a successful calibration. The swirling green vortex sprang into existence in the middle of the classroom, this time more stable. Faint voices could be heard from the other side—something about a frantic “Grandpa Rick!”
Ayanokōji didn’t budge, but he watched carefully.
> “So you’re leaving now?” he asked.
> “Yeah, big shock—interdimensional travelers don’t usually stop for a pop quiz or a milkshake in random high schools.” Rick took another swig from his flask, clearing his throat. “Anyway, if you ever get tired of playing possum with your brilliance, you should try interdimensional travel. It’s the best way to find out just how trivial a single dimension’s rules can be.”
He swayed closer to Ayanokōji, ignoring the suspicious glance the boy gave him.
> “Any advice for you? Eh, let’s see…” Rick rubbed his chin. “You do you, kid. You’re playing the long game or something, right?”
Ayanokōji gave a tiny nod, though it was barely noticeable.
[Long game. That’s not far from the truth. He sees more than he should in this short encounter.]
> “If you ever do something that makes waves, I might drop by again,” Rick said with a mock salute, half sarcastic, half curious. “But for now—uh, peace out or whatever you kids say these days.”
Ayanokōji allowed a slight inclination of his head.
> “Then I’ll see you if and when you decide to visit again,” he said politely. “Until then.”
Rick let out a short, barking laugh, then stepped through the portal. The green spiral flickered and vanished, leaving no trace except for the faint smell of ozone and the lingering sense that reality had just been tested in ways most of the world would never comprehend.
Ayanokōji looked at the space where Rick had been for a few more seconds. Then, picking up his textbook, he sank back into his seat, returning to the page he’d been reading before the intrusion.
[That was… uniquely disruptive. But perhaps useful knowledge for the future.]
Ayanokōji’s eyes flicked to the portal gun warily.
> “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Rick sniffed, letting out a dismissive tch.
> “Kid, I’ve seen a million different versions of overachieving, super-powered prodigies. Your metrics are spiking on my scanner, but you’re intentionally dumbing yourself down. *Why*? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day, and I’ve been to a dimension where frogs run a global financial system.”
Ayanokōji blinked once, then spoke quietly.
> “My reasons are my own. Sometimes it’s easier to blend in when you don’t stand out.”
Rick frowned, rummaging for a metal flask in his coat. He took a swig.
> “So you’re some kind of… I don’t know, stealth-brainiac? [He’s basically a Morty with even more emotional control. Or maybe an Evil Morty… those always cause problems.]”
There was a short silence. Ayanokōji eventually broke it.
> “Am I in any danger because of you?”
Rick shrugged.
> “Probably not. I only blow up dimensions when they really annoy me. This one’s just… *meh*.” Then he cocked an eyebrow. “But you’re interesting. You remind me of… well, me, if I were forced to go through some messed-up training camp as a kid.”
> “Messed-up training camp?” Ayanokōji repeated. Something in Rick’s words hinted that he could see more than Ayanokōji let on.
> “Look, kid, let’s just say I can sniff out messed-up backstories—call it a side effect of skipping around different realities. You’re calm, collected, and borderline emotionless… that doesn’t come from a normal suburban upbringing. But hey, not my problem,” Rick said with a shrug, tapping at the portal gun again.
A faint beep indicated a successful calibration. The swirling green vortex sprang into existence in the middle of the classroom, this time more stable. Faint voices could be heard from the other side—something about a frantic “Grandpa Rick!”
Ayanokōji didn’t budge, but he watched carefully.
> “So you’re leaving now?” he asked.
> “Yeah, big shock—interdimensional travelers don’t usually stop for a pop quiz or a milkshake in random high schools.” Rick took another swig from his flask, clearing his throat. “Anyway, if you ever get tired of playing possum with your brilliance, you should try interdimensional travel. It’s the best way to find out just how trivial a single dimension’s rules can be.”
He swayed closer to Ayanokōji, ignoring the suspicious glance the boy gave him.
> “Any advice for you? Eh, let’s see…” Rick rubbed his chin. “You do you, kid. You’re playing the long game or something, right?”
Ayanokōji gave a tiny nod, though it was barely noticeable.
[Long game. That’s not far from the truth. He sees more than he should in this short encounter.]
> “If you ever do something that makes waves, I might drop by again,” Rick said with a mock salute, half sarcastic, half curious. “But for now—uh, peace out or whatever you kids say these days.”
Ayanokōji allowed a slight inclination of his head.
> “Then I’ll see you if and when you decide to visit again,” he said politely. “Until then.”
Rick let out a short, barking laugh, then stepped through the portal. The green spiral flickered and vanished, leaving no trace except for the faint smell of ozone and the lingering sense that reality had just been tested in ways most of the world would never comprehend.
Ayanokōji looked at the space where Rick had been for a few more seconds. Then, picking up his textbook, he sank back into his seat, returning to the page he’d been reading before the intrusion.
[That was… uniquely disruptive. But perhaps useful knowledge for the future.]