In an instant, he felt the world stretch and twist around him. Then, with a lurch in his stomach, he emerged in… somewhere else.
---
A New Reality
He stood on a metallic walkway suspended above what looked like a massive laboratory brimming with flashing consoles, storage tanks, and half-finished machines. The air smelled of ozone and chemicals. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzzed.
A startled yelp came from nearby. Turning, Ayanokōji saw a teenage boy with messy brown hair, wearing a yellow shirt and looking like he was in the midst of some chore. He dropped a wrench with a clang.
> “Uh—who are you?!” the boy asked, wide-eyed.
Ayanokōji remained composed, ignoring the sudden swirl of adrenaline in his system. He nodded once in greeting.
> “My name is Ayanokōji. I’m… looking for Rick Sanchez.”
> “Wh-what the hell?!” the boy stammered. “How did you even get in here? And you’re looking for my grandpa?”
So this was Morty. The same name Rick had casually mentioned. Ayanokōji took in the messy environment—there were large glass tubes containing swirling liquids, circuits scattered about, an abandoned plate of half-eaten pizza on a workbench. It was chaos incarnate.
> “I found a device he left behind,” Ayanokōji said evenly. “It opened a portal.”
Morty’s eyes darted around, obviously uncertain. He slowly reached for a small communicator on the table.
> “Grandpa Rick! Uh, we have a situation in the garage—some weird kid just showed up!”
After a burst of static, Rick’s gruff voice came through: “I’m in the middle of calibrating cosmic fusion rods! Just—ugh, fine, I’ll be right there!”
---
A Return to the Source
Seconds later, a door on the far side of the lab slammed open. In walked Rick Sanchez, lab coat trailing, a pair of goggles perched on his brow. He was frowning, as though perpetually annoyed—but the annoyance sharpened into curiosity when he recognized Ayanokōji.
> “*Huh,*” Rick grunted. “Well, if it isn’t the stoic high-schooler with the suppressed genius. *Kid,* you got some nerve popping up like this in my garage.”
He pointed a gloved finger accusingly.
> “That device was just a worthless calibration node; can’t believe you got it to open a portal.”
A small smirk tugged at Ayanokōji’s lips—barely perceptible.
> “I wasn’t entirely sure it would work. But I see it’s led me to you. I had questions,” he said, scanning the complex contraptions around him. “I’d like to understand how this technology functions…and perhaps how you view the multiverse.”
Morty looked back and forth between them, jaw slack.
> “Dude, *why* would you come here? This place is dangerous, man—there’s, like, cosmic horrors and… and a giant plasma gun that Grandpa Rick built to blow up entire planets if he’s in a bad mood!”
Rick snorted, waving Morty off.
> “Relax, Morty. So the kid’s curious, big deal. Listen, Ayanokōji—why not keep your illusions about the world? The more you learn, the less you can ever go back to your humdrum *Japanese meritocracy* or whatever.”
Ayanokōji shrugged.
> “I was never attached to illusions,” he replied calmly. “[Understanding might be more valuable than comfort.]”
Rick glanced at Morty, then back at Ayanokōji. For a moment, the old scientist looked oddly impressed, though he quickly masked it with a scoff.
> “Fine, you want a guided tour? Then buckle up. We’re about to see cosmic weirdness that’ll break your neat little worldview in half. *Morty, pack the essentials!*”
Morty sighed, clearly uncertain but used to these abrupt demands. He grabbed a satchel of seemingly random devices from a cluttered shelf.
> “I-I guess we’re going on another adventure, huh? But what about school, Ayanokōji? You’re, like, in high school or something?”
Ayanokōji watched them calmly.
> “I’m sure it’ll manage without me for a short while.”
Rick cackled, pressing a few buttons on a towering machine that began to whir. The air warped, forming an expanding oval of swirling green. He gave Ayanokōji a quick, cynical grin.
