He walks over to Elder Morty, takes his cane, and snaps it over his knee.
Here’s an original Rick and Morty story, titled: Cold open: Morty’s bedroom, late at night. Rick y Morty
Morty leaves Rick forever, goes to a normal school, dates a normal girl, grows old. Rick watches from a distance, drinking alone. The other timelines stabilize, but C-137 becomes a ghost. He walks over to Elder Morty, takes his
Rick C-137 finally admits he loves Morty like a grandson. They hug. Then a neutrino bomb goes off, killing every other Rick and Morty. Peace through annihilation. Rick watches from a distance, drinking alone
Most Ricks, desperate to avoid that fracture, find a third option: they “splice” themselves into a single fixed story—a shared memory that loops forever. In that loop, they’re happy. Functional. Scripted.
Rick takes Morty to a void that exists between infinite timelines. Floating there is a twisted version of the Citadel—built from broken portals, discarded catchphrases, and half-finished plotlines.
“I choose a third option. We don’t end either story. We write a new one . Together. You all stop hiding in your perfect loops, and we figure out how to exist without a script.”