Chapter Text
The air stank of neon smoke and fermented slime, the kind of chemical haze that clung to lungs long after you left the planet. The disco was alive with writhing bodies—alien forms bent and twisted, high on substances that didn’t even have names in human tongues. Lights pulsed violently overhead, strobing purples, greens, and silvers in manic rhythm.
Morty cringed, pressing closer to Rick as they waded through the dance floor. A three-eyed creature bumped into him, sloshing glowing liquid down his shirt.
“Aw, jeez, Rick, why—why are we even in a place like this? This is, this is gross! I think something just dripped into my ear—”
Rick, unfazed, downed the rest of his flask and belched. “Morty, quit whining, jeez. You think I brought you here to enjoy the nightlife? No. We’re here for business. See those aliens in the back? The fancy ones with their little armada of gold chains and phallic head ridges?”
Morty squinted past the crowd, spotting a group of sleek, jeweled aliens lounging on a raised dais. They radiated wealth, smugness dripping from their slouched postures.
“Y-yeah?” Morty muttered.
“They’ve got something I need,” Rick said flatly, tucking his flask away. “So we’re gonna negotiate. Play nice, grab the goods, get out. Easy-peasy, Morty. Try not to crap your pants in the meantime.”
Morty grimaced. “Yeah, that’s—that’s reassuring.”
But before they reached the rich aliens, Rick’s sharp eyes caught something out of place. Among the mess of bodies and smoke, at a small table shoved into the corner, sat a lone figure.
A human.
A girl, mid-twenties maybe, her hair falling over one shoulder as she lazily exhaled cigarette smoke. A glowing screen lit her face—some knockoff interstellar phone—and she tapped at it like she’d been born in this club. Calm. Too calm.
Rick froze. “Huh.”
Morty followed his gaze, his jaw dropping. “Rick—Rick, is that—what the hell? Is that a human? What’s she doing here?”
Rick scowled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, Morty, I’ve got eyes. And no clue. Humans don’t just… chill on Zygara Prime’s disco pits. That’s—no. That’s wrong. She’s hiding something.”
The girl shifted, and for a moment, Rick swore she felt his stare. Her head tilted, cigarette ember glowing as she lifted her gaze. Their eyes locked across the chaos.
Instead of fear or confusion, she smiled.
Not sweet. Not friendly. A sharp, mischievous curve of lips—like she knew something they didn’t.
Rick’s brow furrowed deeper. Morty looked between them nervously.
“Uh, Rick? She—she’s smiling at you. That’s creepy. Can we just—can we just go do the thing and leave?”
Rick forced his gaze away, muttering, “Yeah, Morty, whatever. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. Forget her.”
But something in his gut didn’t sit right.
⸻
The negotiations went smoother than expected, which always made Rick suspicious. The alien boss, an overfed creature with translucent skin and visible organs pulsating under it, inspected Rick’s offering: a bulging sack of shimmering galactic currency.
“You drive a hard bargain, Sanchez,” the alien gurgled in its native tongue. Rick’s translator burped the words out in monotone English.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hand it over,” Rick replied.
The alien boss gestured, and one of its guards presented a bag brimming with luminous, crystalline rocks that shimmered brighter than diamonds.
Morty leaned in, whispering. “W-what are those, Rick?”
Rick smirked faintly as he hefted the bag. “Brillium shards. Harder than diamonds, more durable than anything in your grandpa’s toolbox. My bones are made of the stuff, Morty.”
“Y-your bones?!”
“Yeah, Morty. It’s why I can drink jet fuel and still win fistfights with lizard mutants.” Rick slung the bag over his shoulder, his tone deadpan. “C’mon, negotiations over. Let’s bail.”
They turned to leave—
—and the disco erupted in a thunderous explosion.
The blast sent tables flipping, glass shattering. Screaming filled the room as aliens scrambled, some liquefying instantly under the force. Rick and Morty ducked behind an overturned table.
“What the hell?!” Rick barked, covering his head.
Morty clutched his ears. “R-Rick, what’s happening? Are we under attack?!”
Before Rick could answer, chaos unfolded in front of them.
The girl.
The human.
She strode through the smoke, her cigarette still dangling lazily from her lips, and in her hands—a glowing laser rifle, spitting out precise blasts that tore through alien guards like tissue paper. In her belt, small spherical bombs clinked together; she hurled one, and the floor iced over instantly, freezing half the dance floor.
She was calm, efficient. Every move calculated.
Rick’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
Morty clung to his sleeve. “Rick, she—she’s killing everybody! Where’d she even get—what even is all that stuff?!”
Rick’s voice was low, tense. “That’s not normal, Morty. Humans don’t use tech like that—hell, half the galaxy doesn’t use tech like that. Not unless they’re me.”
Morty gulped. “S-so can we, uh, can we leave? Please?”
Rick shoved something into Morty’s trembling hands: a small disc. “No. Strap that on.”
Morty looked down. “W-what is it?”
“Invisibility field. We’re staying put. I wanna see how this plays out.”
Morty’s stomach dropped. “Aw, jeez…”
⸻
When the dust settled, silence reigned. The girl stood alone amid the wreckage, stepping over corpses without flinching. She approached the dais where the alien boss had been seated—now a smear on the wall—and casually scooped up a bag of brillium shards, the same stuff Rick had just bought, but an even bigger bag.
Morty’s jaw fell open. “S-she just stole those brilliant rocks!”
Rick ignored him, watching with narrowed eyes. The girl scanned the room once more, then, satisfied, tucked the bag under her arm and sauntered out the front door as if she’d merely finished a cigarette break.
Rick dropped the invisibility field, his face unreadable.
“Why would a human want those rocks?” he muttered. “No one outside high-level science circles even knows what they’re good for. She’s hiding something.”
Morty, still shaking, asked, “O-okay, but, like… what are they good for? Besides bones?”
Rick glanced at him. “They’re used to forge the strongest alloys in existence. Harder than diamonds, Morty. Indestructible. You could build weapons, ships, hell, whole armies with ‘em.”
Before Morty could reply, a new voice chimed in—smooth, teasing:
“But they can be used for more stuff, you know?”
Both Rick and Morty spun around.
There she was again.
The girl leaned against a half-collapsed chair, cigarette dangling from her fingers, her expression infuriatingly casual. She crossed one leg over the other, smoke curling around her lips.
Rick stiffened. “How the hell are you still here?”
She smirked. “Funny, I could ask you the same thing. What’s an old man and his grandson doing in an alien disco?” She tilted her head, mock-innocent. “Oh, wait. Let me guess. Maybe you were here for this?”
From her pocket, she produced a bag. Rick’s bag.
Rick’s eyes went wide. He patted his coat, finding his stash missing.
“You little—”
Her laugh was melodic, mischievous. She rose to her feet, walking toward them slowly, each step deliberate. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one who can make themselves invisible, you know.”
Rick growled. “Hand it over before I—”
“Or what?” she interrupted, smirking wider.
Morty glanced nervously between them. “Uh, Rick, maybe—maybe don’t piss her off? She just, like, murdered a whole disco of aliens.”
But Rick was already stepping forward, jaw tight. “Step aside, Morty.”
⸻
The fight was immediate, explosive.
Rick whipped out a plasma pistol; the girl countered with a sleek violet-bladed knife that crackled with electricity. She was fast—darting out of the way of Rick’s precise shots, firing back with a compact blaster that forced Rick to duck.
Morty scrambled for cover, shrieking, “Aw, jeez, I hate this! I hate this so much!”
Rick snarled, tossing a smoke bomb that burst into a cloud of writhing nanobots. They surged, clamping onto the girl’s arms and legs, pinning her mid-step.
She cursed, struggling. Rick emerged from the smoke, his boot slamming into her stomach. She hit the floor hard, wind knocked out of her. Rick crouched over her, face inches from hers, pistol aimed directly at her chest.
“Game over, sweetheart. Hand it over.”
But instead of fear, she smiled again. That same dangerous, infuriating smile.
“You’re even more handsome up close.”
Rick froze, his brain stuttering for the briefest, most dangerous second.
And she used it.
Her wrist flicked, and a gun snapped out from her sleeve—firing a net that crackled with binding energy. It wrapped around Rick, dropping him to the ground.
“Gah—son of a bitch!” Rick struggled, thrashing.
She pushed herself to her feet, brushing dust from her clothes, watching him with amused eyes. “That was fun, old man. Honestly, I’d love to keep this little… date going. But I’m in a hurry.”
From her pocket, she pulled a device Rick’s blood ran cold at the sight of.
A portal gun.
But not his.
Its glow was a deep, unnatural purple.
Rick’s breath caught. “No way.”
She smirked, satisfied at his stunned expression. “Yeah. Thought that might get your attention.” She clicked it open, a swirling violet portal blooming in the air.
Turning back to him, she winked. “Goodbye, handsome grandpa. And goodbye to you too, kid.”
Morty yelped from behind his cover.
“Oh, and don’t hold a grudge, okay?” she added, playful.
Then, with a final mischievous smile, she stepped through the portal—and vanished.
⸻
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Morty scrambled out, rushing to Rick’s side. “R-Rick! Oh jeez, are you okay? What—what was all of that?!”
Rick’s jaw clenched. He should’ve been furious. She’d stolen his rocks, humiliated him, outmaneuvered him. He should’ve vaporized her on the spot.
But his mind kept circling back—her smirk, her calm, the way his chest had tightened when she called him handsome.
Why hadn’t he pulled the trigger?
Why did the thought of seeing her again make something inside him feel… unsteady?
Morty fumbled with the net, tugging helplessly. “Rick, c’mon, talk to me! Who was she? How’d she have one of your portal guns?!”
Rick snapped his multitool finger open and sliced himself free, scowling.
“Shut up, Morty. We’re leaving.”
He flicked open a portal—classic, green—and stepped through without looking back.
But his mind was anything but clear.