Space. Boundless. Ever-expanding. Seeping with stars and secrets.
It was here, in the creases between worlds, that a soul forged rather than born was pulled through time, memory, and fate.
Zane recalled it all.
Not from this life — but the previous one.
He had lived a normal human life in a fairly normal world, but he saw it all: the insanity of Rick and Morty, the science, the multiversal madness. All the paradoxes, all the jokes wrapped in existential terror, all the moments of genocide disguised as science. And now he was being granted life.
Earth Dimension C-Zane (offshoot sub-universe of C-137)
The birthing room was white, cold, and sterile, but Zane's mind burst into flame. Data exploded in like the multiverse had burst into his very essence. Equations. Multiverse coordinates. Portalgun blueprints. Citadel of Ricks's backdoor pathways.
As his tiny, creased body wailed into existence, the doctors stared at him in a combination of confusion and unease.
"He's a Rick. but. different," one breathed.
Actually, Zane was nothing like the traditional Rick model. He was younger, black-haired instead of blue, with eyes that carried an unnatural silver gleam and skin that had a fleeting gleam as if reality struggled to contain him.
"He's already. thinking," the nurse gasped, stepping back.
Zane stopped crying. He looked at them. Sized them up.
In his infantile brain, he already plotted.
14 Years Later
Smith Residence – Garage
Zane had come of age like a god pretending to be man. At fourteen, he'd outwitted even the cleverest Rick's prodigy. He'd designed a multi-dimensional core generator out of terrestrial junk. His personal AI aide, "Eris," was a quantum-holographic being that rewrote its own code with each encounter.
He hadn't met Morty yet — his family weren't the Smiths. He was in an alternate universe, near enough to the original to share common events but far enough away that he could keep a low profile.
That would soon change.
Flashpoint: The Adventure Begins
Zane stared at his new creation: a sleek, biomechanical ship infused with flesh-circuitry harvested from the brain matter of a dying Kronenberg dimension.
He flipped on the control panel.
"Eris, trail Prime Rick. C-137. The original."
Eris: "Tracking begun. Suggest caution — his universe is policed by Time Cops and the Transdimensional Council."
"I did not ask for advice."
He got on the ship. His plan was straightforward: he would not be like the other Ricks. No drunken death. No intellectual brilliance masked by nihilism. No vulnerability.
He would build.
Not a science fair exhibit. Not a family. A kingdom. Across universes. Across worlds. With his name branded on the spines of tyrants and Time Lords.
Interdimensional Broadcast (Received at the Citadel of Ricks)
"This is a warning. I am Zane. I am Rick. but not yours.
I don't need advice. I don't need approval.
I'm not here to play chess — I'm here to turn the board.".
The Multiverse will bow. Or bleed.
Transmission ended.
On Dimension C-137, in the meantime
Rick Sanchez spat out his beer.
"What in the name of. Morty, did you hear that?"
"W-was that another you, Rick? H-he didn't sound like you at all!"
"That's because he isn't. That little scoundrel might be worse himself."
He grinned.
"And I f***ing love it."
Zane's Private Lab — Hidden Under the Crust of Earth-C-Zane
Deep beneath the surface of his home planet, where tectonic plates crushed each other like dying gods, Zane stood in the heart of a lab unlike any other Rick had ever imagined.
It wasn't a garage. It wasn't cluttered chaos.
This was a cathedral of science. Monolithic machines hummed with quantum plasma. Organic cables pulsated with harvested neural activity from imprisoned dimensionless entities. Glass tanks held ancient tech fused with living tissue — corpses of Time Titans, spinal-fluid from Chrono-Dragons, and preserved embryonic Null-Matter Lifeforms.
And at the center of it all stood Zane, bare-chested, eyes glowing silver, staring at the central upgrade pod.
"The Ricks… idiots. All of them," Zane muttered aloud to Eris, his AI.
"They play with the universe… but stay so damn human."
Eris: "Standard Rick model prioritizes intellect over enhancement. Most found body upgrades 'unnecessary.'"
"Exactly. But their flesh betrays them. Wrinkles. Sluggish reactions. Addictions. Death."
Zane spat on the floor. "Weakness. I don't tolerate it."
PHASE 1: Spartan Prime Reintegration Protocol
Zane stepped into a suspended vertical pod, its edges lined with tungsten bonesaw injectors and high-frequency laser flayers. Tubes snaked down from the ceiling, filled with a glowing green liquid harvested from a collapsed Halo-Universe Variant.
"Begin Spartan Prime Reintegration Protocol."
A blaring alarm sounded. The process was dangerous, even for Zane.
Eris: "Injecting hyper-dense muscle fiber mesh. Reinforcing skeletal structure. Accelerated tendon reconstruction. Warning: Pain levels exceeding human tolerances."
"Let it hurt."
Needles pierced his back. Bones cracked. Muscles convulsed violently as nanomachines laced themselves into his tissue. His blood boiled — then cooled — then ran black with programmable stem cells.
His body ripped apart… then rebuilt.
When the pod hissed open, Zane stepped forward, trembling. His chest gleamed with subdermal hex-armor. Veins pulsed with liquid iron. He clenched his fist.
"One percent complete. Let's keep going."
PHASE 2: Super Soldier Serum Omega-X
This wasn't the Captain America bedtime story.
This was the serum from Earth-Warworld-93, a militarized dimension that had genetically perfected human optimization through billions of test deaths.
He strapped himself to a crucifix-shaped injection chamber, arms and legs pulled taut. Robotic syringes stabbed every joint and artery simultaneously.
PSHHHHK-K-K-K-K-KTTT!!
His heart stopped.
His brain flatlined.
Eris: "Vitals lost for 6.2 seconds... neural spark reigniting."
BOOM–BOOM–BOOM.
He gasped back to life.
The changes hit like a goddamn hurricane. Bone density increased by 400%. Adrenal gland rewired into a controlled explosive reserve. Vision recalibrated to see ultraviolet, quantum phase shifts, and emotional residue.
He looked in a mirror — and smirked. Pupils had become adaptive irises, capable of zoom, thermal, and cognitive mapping. His spine straightened. His hands no longer trembled — they hummed with kinetic energy.
PHASE 3: Technopath Neural Overwrite
This was the most dangerous.
Zane sat in the center of a sphere made of living code. It slithered like a serpent made of light, whispering ancient binary languages from dead AIs across time.
He closed his eyes and invited it in.
"Erase the barrier. Let the machine be me."
The moment it touched his brain, he screamed.
Data poured into his synapses. Every network. Every signal. He saw through satellites, hacked into the Citadel's surveillance drones, whispered commands into galactic warships lightyears away.
His consciousness extended.
He could control any machine, anywhere, by thought alone.
His fingers sparked. His skin shimmered with circuit-tattoos. He was a technogod now.
PHASE 4: Godskin Synthesis (Forbidden Flesh Integration)
This was not science. This was blasphemy.
Zane reached into a cryogenic vault and retrieved a shard of Godskin, peeled from a dimensionless entity that had once tried to consume reality.
"They say wearing this flesh drove civilizations mad. Good."
He placed it against his chest. It melted in like ink on paper, crawling across him like tar.
His skin began to shift — not visibly, but ontologically. He couldn't be perceived normally anymore. Cameras glitched. Perception bent. To most, he was a blur, a shadow, a figure of immense pressure.
He spoke a word — and metal melted from his voice.
Full Integration Report
Eris:
"Spartan Program: Complete.
Omega-X Serum: Stabilized.
Technopath Override: Active.
Forbidden Flesh: Integrated.
Current threat level: Beyond measurable scale. You are no longer classified as 'Rick' biologically or cognitively."
Zane stood in silence.
He clenched his upgraded hand. It hummed with godly restraint.
"Good. Now bring me the blueprints for dimensional conquest. It's time we start building."
Elsewhere… in the Citadel of Ricks
A dozen Ricks were gathered in a war chamber. Screens flickered with data. A single figure — President Morty — stood at the center, eyes narrowed.
"He's changed the game."
A scientist Rick shouted, "He's not a Rick anymore — he's something else! His DNA doesn't even register as human!"
President Morty sipped his wine. "He's what happens when you give a Rick ambition without arrogance. That makes him dangerous."
Zane's Throne Room (Under Construction)
Pillars of black marble fused with alien bone. Walls carved from Chrono-Flesh. A throne, levitating, carved from the skull of a Hive Lord.
Zane approached it and sat down.
Eris: "What now?"
"Now we make history... and then we rewrite it."