The garage smelled like scorched metal and bad decisions. Rick slumped over his workbench, one hand wrapped around a half-empty flask, the other twirling a screwdriver like it was a coin.
Prime was gone. Dead. Gone-gone.
He'd thought there'd be more to it—triumph, maybe relief. Instead, there was… nothing.
And somewhere under all the chemical haze, Diane's face drifted further into the static.
The air rippled.
Light spilled from the corner like someone had torn reality open and forgotten to close it.
Out stepped a man—tall enough to make Rick's chair creak as he leaned back for a better look.
Two meters easy. Broad shoulders. Light blue hair that looked annoyingly natural.
His jawline screamed "good genetics" and his smile was too wide for this dimension.
The resemblance was unsettling—Diane's eyes, Rick's bone structure—but polished, handsome, like the universe had run the Sanchez template through a high-end filter.
"Yo, old man! How're you doing!?"
(Roderick's image)
Rick didn't blink. Didn't move. Then he raised his portal pistol, flipped it to max charge, and fired.
(Rick's image)
The shot hit—then vanished. No burn mark, no scorch, no scream.
The guy had eaten the shot. The blue-haired stranger tilted his head like he'd been splashed with water.
"Whoa, whoa, old man, what the fuck? After all these years, the first thing you do when you see your eldest son is shoot him? Seriously?"
Rick's eyes narrowed.
"I don't have a son. If I did, I'd remember. Beth would remember. Hell, the damn multiverse would remember. You're a random jackass with my cheekbones. Who the fuck are you?"
The man tapped his chin like he was trying to remember a joke.
Then his face lit up. "Ohhh! Right. I forgot I was erased. Damn, years of solo research and I get all excited and skip the intro—"
The portal pistol came up again.
"Explain what? You think you can roll in here, claim you're my son, and I'll… what? Hug you?
You do know who I am, right?
I'm Rick. Infinite Ricks. Infinite bullshit. Biggest brain, biggest balls. And you're telling me you're my son that never existed?
So here's your last chance—who the FUCK are you?"
The stranger's grin didn't falter.
"What have age and all these years done to you, old man? Alright, alright—" he lifted his hands, palms out. "We can talk. But it's… kinda long."
Rick let the pistol drop a fraction. His lips pressed into a thin line. Then he turned his back and muttered, "Come in."
Rod ducked under the garage door like he'd been here a hundred times. A small silver capsule spun between his fingers before he flicked it to the ground. It hissed open, unfolding into a wide, black leather sofa. He dropped onto it, leaned back, and crossed his legs like he owned the place.
Rick's eye twitched. "Alright. Now explain."
Rod smiled like this was some casual family reunion. "For starters, my name's Roderick Sanchez. You can call me Rod—like Rhodes, not rod-rod. I'm your son, Beth's older brother and…" He grinned wider. "…my mama's boy."
Rick's gaze sharpened. "Who's your mom, kid?"
Rod knew the question would be a live grenade. He didn't flinch. "Of course… it's your wife. Diane."
Something inside Rick snapped. The sound of hidden mechanisms clicked through the room as micro-guns unfolded from every fold of his coat, wrists, and belt.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
Rick unleashed a storm—volley after volley of green laser, blue plasma, red bolts. The air stank of ozone and melted circuitry.
Rod didn't move. Every shot bent into his body, the energy dissolving into nothing like rain into sand.
When the barrage slowed, Rod brushed imaginary dust from his knee. "Can you calm down, old man? I'm talking here."
Rick didn't lower his weapons. "What? You think I'll believe this crap? I don't have a son. And keep my wife's name out of your mouth or I'll find a way to bypass whatever energy-sponge freakshow you've got going on."
Rod sighed, like Rick was the one wasting his time. "Okay, okay. Chill. Let me finish."
Rick's hands stayed tight around the triggers, but his eyes narrowed. He wanted to know where this guy came from—even if his gut screamed impossible.
"It's like this," Rod said, leaning forward.
"I know you killed Mom's killer.
By the way, good job doing that, I can kill him whenever I want really after I finish studying his Omega Device but my desire to bring mom back to live is greater than my revenge.
Where am I again? Oh, okay...
Which means you know how she was erased, right? But I also know she's gone across the entire multiverse—every reality, every timeline.
And here's the thing—I'm your son.
The eldest. The one you, not any other Rick, you, forgot because I used the Omega Device… on myself."
Rick's jaw flexed.
"I had questions because I want to revive my mom, not any other Diane" Rod continued.
"What part of Mom got erased? Just her body? Down to the last atom? Is her soul still somewhere?
I found the answer—no. There's nothing. Not even a sliver of her left.
And I know because I erased all Roderick Sanchezes except me, just to study what happened to her.
No duplicates, no variants, no photographs, no video, not even the Observer saw me until now.
Maybe because my Omega is better than that motherfucker, I miscalculate a little bit.
I've been invisible to the multiverse without me wanting it to happen."
He smiled faintly. "Guess I got your attention now, old man?"
Rick's mind worked faster than his trigger finger. The logic wasn't impossible. Terrifying, yes. But not impossible.
"Alright, kid.
Let's say I don't shoot you into atoms. What proof you got?
Because if all I've got is your sob story, it's still bullshit. You think I'm gonna start singing 'yay, my son's home' and bake you cookies?"
Rod chuckled.
"It's easy to prove, old man. Check all realities. Go ahead. You'll only find me. I'm the only Rod in the entire multiverse."
Rick didn't move. His eyes just narrowed into slits. Somewhere deep in his brain, a hundred scanners powered on at once.
Rick's finger twitched, but instead of pulling a trigger, he spun toward his workbench. "Fine. You want proof? Let's see how fast I can prove you're full of shit."
He started ripping cables out of a tangle of devices, slamming them into a core unit that looked like an unholy mix of a server rack and a toaster. A cylindrical pod hummed to life, ringed with glowing lenses.
"Multiversal Cognito-Trace. Tracks the concept of a person across infinite planes. If you exist anywhere, this baby'll find your ugly mug and every version of it."
Rod leaned back on the sofa, smirking. "Ugly? You're staring at a better-looking you, old man."
Rick didn't answer. He was already shoving data spikes into the machine, typing in an alphabet no human language had. A ripple of green light pulsed through the garage, then shot upward into nothing.
"Alright, Rod Sanchez," Rick muttered. "Let's see how many of you pop up…"
The console beeped once. Then again. Then stopped. A single red line blinked on the display.
[ MATCH FOUND: 1 RESULT. ]
Rick froze.
"…Okay, that's… that's not possible." His voice was flat, but his eyes had sharpened like scalpels. "There's always more. Even the dumbest Jerry has variants. Even summer squash has variants." He stabbed at the controls. "Run it again."
The machine beeped.[ MATCH FOUND: 1 RESULT. ]
Rick's mouth pulled into a thin, dangerous smile that wasn't entirely for Rod. "Alright, kid. Either you're the biggest con in all existence… or you're telling the truth."
Rod spread his arms. "Told you. The only Rod left. Kinda lonely, not gonna lie."
Rick turned slowly toward him.
"If you erased yourself from every timeline, including my own memories, then how the hell are you standing here right now? And more importantly…"
His voice dropped to something sharper. "…why come back?"
Rod's grin faded into something heavier, something that made the air in the garage feel thicker.
"That's the long part of the story, old man," he said.
Rod's smirk stretched. It wasn't just confidence now—it was something unhinged. His pupils trembled, breath quickened. Then the smile split wider, teeth bared.
"I… I finally… I FINALLY KNOW IT." His voice shook like a live wire.
"I KNOW HOW TO REVIVE MOM!! MUAHAHAHAHA!! NOT EVEN YOU CAN, OLD MAN! I CAN! ONLY I CAN! MUAHAHAHAHA!"
Rick's eyes stayed dead and cold. He didn't flinch. Didn't twitch.
He'd heard every con, every delusion, every self-proclaimed genius try to sell him on the impossible.
But this—this motherfucker walks in out of nowhere, calls himself his son, and claims he can do the one thing Rick has bled for his entire life? Bring back Diane. His Diane?
"Kid," Rick said flatly, "I don't wanna burst your bubble—actually, I do—but you think I haven't done the research?
Tell me your so-called method so I can rip it apart, because I'm telling you now—it's bullshit.
I DON'T WANT CLONES OF DIANE. I WANT MY DIANE. THE ONE WHO'S DEAD. THE ONE I LOVE. NOT SOME WARM-BODY COPY WITH HER MEMORIES."
Rod didn't even blink. The mania in his grin deepened.
"You think I'm dumb? Of course I know that wouldn't be my mom. I ALSO WANT MY TRUE MOM. NOT SOME CLONE-BULLSHIT, YOU FUCKING OLD MAN!"
He leaned forward, his voice dropping but every word still vibrating with madness.
"We're closer to gods than anything else in this universe. Of course I know. Hell, there's even that Rick-and-Morty cloning rig, but we both know what those are. Dumbass meat puppets.
"So…" His head tilted, eyes gleaming like knives. "…do you wanna hear my method? Or do you wanna keep licking your motherfucking chihuahua-type ego?"
Rick's thumb brushed the side of his portal pistol, but he didn't fire. Not yet.
Rick sighed, long and grudging. "Okay, kid. You win. Tell me your oh-so-great plan."
Rod smirked. "I won't tell you—"
"This motherfucker!" Rick snapped, cutting him off.
Rod chuckled. "I'll just show you."
He flicked his wrist. A yellow-orange portal bloomed under Rick's boots. Gravity took the rest.
"Wha—SON OF A—" Rick crashed hard. Rod stepped through after him, calm as if they'd taken the elevator.
He strolled toward the center of the space and spread his arms wide.
"Welcome to my abode, old man."
Rick sat on his ass, glaring. Then his eyes caught the horizon, and his mouth hung open.
"Whoaaaaa… where the fuck is this, kid? It's… beautiful."
They walked on, the air humming with alien harmonics.
Towering megastructures curved like spirals through a sky that wasn't entirely three-dimensional. Planets hung at impossible angles.
Buildings grew from the ground like crystal forests.
Rod glanced back.
"Mini project. This world evolves itself—naturally, scientifically, mystically—you name it, it's doing it. And here?" He gestured around them.
"I store almost all my research."
Rick's brows twitched. "Where is 'here'?"
"That one I can't tell you, old man. Not even you… hahaha."
His smirk curled as he muttered under his breath, "Screw you, old man. This is for that one heist we did together."
They passed a series of chambers, each containing strange devices and lifeforms. Worlds in jars. A sun rotating in a cage. Time itself bound and bleeding in a glass coil.
Finally, they stopped before a towering door that shimmered like liquid steel.
"We've arrived, old man. You asked how I plan to revive Mom, right?"
Rod rose into the air. "Cortana—initiate Project iiiiiZi+9996."
The ground trembled. Above them, stars burst into existence—then bled light, shrinking as invisible veins drained them dry.
Rick's eyes darted skyward. "Kid, what the hell—why are you sucking the energy from all these stars?"
Rod's back stayed turned. "Indeed, old man. They're batteries. To power the Omega+1 Device."
Rick's mind started running countermeasures. Delay him. Stall. Buy time.
"Kid, you aiming that thing at me or my family?"
Rod laughed.
"Relax, old man. I'm not erasing your senile dumb butt."
"Then what's the point? Why fire it at all?"
Rick's voice was casual, but his thumb was already palming a device in his coat.
Rod turned, smile razor-sharp.
"You asked for my method earlier, right? This is it. I call her the Omega+1 Device. Uncreative name? Yeah. So what, old man?"
He chuckled, eyes glinting.
"Remember when I said I erased every Rod Sanchez except me? That wasn't an accident. That was the point. I just didn't expect to wipe out every scrap of data on me—memories, records, everything."
He floated higher, arms spread like a preacher over his congregation of stolen suns.
"So now… I'm un-erasing myself. Soon, there'll be me again… in every infinite universe."
Rick's face stayed dead still. His mind didn't.
"Then... can Diane also be revived like this...? Tell me kid."
Rod sighed, "No, I don't know yet, old man. I will know after I un-erase myself... then I will know whether I need to go to Plan A or Plan B."
The whole world shaken, slowly... but surely Rod start exist again in all universe and all being start remembering again... who is... Roderick Fucking Sanchez!