Kang Woo chuckled, arms behind his head.
"Yeah, yeah. Say that after hugging me like your favorite pillow, Control Devil-chan."
Makima didn't take the bait this time. Her gaze didn't waver—cool, steady, and far more serious than before.
"…Kang Woo. Can you answer me something?"
He tilted his head with a teasing smirk. "Yeah, of course. Another hug request?"
Makima didn't smile.
"When we were still on Earth, you saw that old hologram through Evil Morty's eyepatch. The one from a drunk Rick—showing that grenade… or maybe it was a serum. Something that made time pass a thousand years per hour."
Kang Woo didn't blink. He just listened, the air around them quiet.
Makima continued. "You looked at that and said… 'That'll help me on my way to victory.'"
She leaned in slightly. Her tone dropped lower—no longer playful. "I didn't think much of it back then. I only joked."
Her eyes flicked upward, distant, remembering.
"But I kept thinking about it… especially during orbit. When you were singing that song—about parting."
She paused. "I canceled it. With my own lyrics. When we forged the Ring of Narya…"
Then she looked back at him. Her voice softened—but the edge in it cut sharper than ever.
"So I'll ask you now."
She locked eyes with him, unmoving. "…Kang Woo. Are you trying to die?"
Kang Woo didn't flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, almost too easily. "I'm trying to die."
His tone was casual—too casual. Like someone flipping a coin into a wishing well.
"If good luck sticks… permanent. If not, well—tough luck. I'll just kill Mercurius again with Ren Fuji this time. And the rest of the of my kind , once I get there."
Makima didn't react to most of that... Her entire mind fixated on one part—the one that shattered the rhythm of her breath.
"Permanent."
She suddenly stepped forward, eyes wide, voice trembling slightly with frustration. "Why…?". "Why, Kang Woo?!"
Her fists clenched. "Why are you treating death like a joke? Like some step on a ladder you can just hop off of when it gets boring? Do you even understand what death means?!"
"It means you're gone! Not some 'good luck' gamble. Gone, Kang Woo! No matter how powerful you are—even if you're some demon out of a fairy tale you keep rambling about—death means you disappear!"
But Kang Woo didn't answer right away. His gaze flicked up toward the stars through the glass dome—long, quiet, and cold.
He didn't need to say it aloud, but the thought echoed clear as steel in his mind.
This isn't the first time I've died. I've been trapped in loops—eons of repetition—because of Mercurius, that bastard of the Fourth Heaven. But maybe this time… just maybe, I'll enjoy what little time I have here.
Then he spoke aloud, voice low and pointed.
"…Fine. I'll say it in a language you understand."
He looked at her again. And this time, there was no smirk—no teasing glint. "I lost something,". "Something worth more than your contracts… more than the Citadel of Ricks could ever build."
He exhaled once—slow, steady. "And the only way to get it back… is by dying."
Makima stared at him, eyes tight, words trembling in her throat. "…Is there any way to bring back whatever you need… but without dying?"
Kang Woo didn't answer. Instead, Kang Woo drew his portal pistol with a flick and fired it cleanly at the reinforced concrete ahead. With a flash of pink light and a hollow VOOM, the transparent gate opened — revealing the path to the meeting chamber inside President Morty's private suite.
Kang Woo holstered the pistol and glanced over his shoulder.
"We'll talk more once we've dealt with the Shadow Council. It's almost time."
Makima didn't respond. She only watched him walk into the light, the swirling green portal casting ghostly reflections across his back — like flickering chains. But in her heart, she whispered:
I won't let you die, Kang Woo. Not in this life. Not in the next. Even if I reincarnate a thousand times… I'll lock it into every version of me. I'll stop it.
Then, she stepped through the portal after him.
The meeting chamber was enormous — wide and circular, built into the edge of the Citadel's presidential suite. High-ranking Ricks were already seated across the grand platform, each of them distinct and twisted by their own paths. One wore a flamboyant scarf and fur-lined coat — Garment District Rick. Another adjusted data cables directly fused into his skull — Cybernetic Rick. And across the back row sat a silent observer: Nun Rick, hands clasped,.
Kang Woo seated himself calmly on the left, near a raised dais.
Makima took her place to his right. Her expression had returned to its cool, unreadable mask… but her fingers flexed just once — unconsciously — remembering his words from moments ago.
In the center of the chamber stood Evil Morty.
"Good," he said, voice even but sharp. "You're both here. That leaves only one."
"Rick D. Sanchez the Third," Evil Morty continued. "The final member of the Shadow Council. Once he arrives… we begin."
Rick D. Sanchez the Third. Decked in a sleeker version of the coat, , he strolled in without ceremony. "Sorry, President Morty," he said. "Had a little crisis at work. My Morty tried to unionize. Again."
From across the table, Garment District Rick gave a dry snort. "Worth it."
The words echoed through the room—careless, intentional.
Evil Morty didn't turn, but his eyes narrowed just enough. "You were saying, Garment District Rick?"
Garment District Rick gave a nonchalant shrug. "What we were saying, President Morty," he replied, "is that we don't care who's in that seat. A Rick, a Morty, hell—even a fucking Jerry. We've been running this Citadel long before any Council of Ricks. And guess what? We're still running it now."
The air in the room thickened, a few high-ranking Ricks muttering low under their breath, some amused, others quietly calculating.
Makima, seated with that composed posture of hers, leaned slightly to her left and whispered without moving her lips. "…Who's Jerry?"
Kang Woo, eyes straight ahead, whispered back with a dry grin.
"Morty's father. Or… a guy who pathetically has beef with every Rick. Think of him like a weaker Denji but with none of the cool parts."
Evil Morty's gaze swept the chamber, cold and razor-sharp. "Well,". "Let's be clear, then."
He took a step forward, letting his words linger. "Raise your hand if he speaks for you."
One by one, without shame or hesitation, every member of the Shadow Council of Ricks raised their hands. Some smirked. Some didn't bother with the charade of respect. But every single one raised a hand.
Makima narrowed her eyes. Kang Woo simply nodded once and met Evil Morty's gaze.
"Do as you will," Evil Morty said.
Kang Woo's smile barely shifted. And then — it happened. Demonic energy swelled out from him like a pulse. The air twisted violently as tendrils of black-red mana laced with spectral light surged across the chamber. Each tendril pierced into every Rick seated around the table,.
Before even a cry could be raised . Pillars of blinding blue light erupted from above, crashing down in perfect symmetry. Each Rick struck by the Auswählen's modified burst had no time to resist. Their bodies withered instantly—flesh collapsing, bones cracking, and in a flash, only skeletal husks remained.
In front of Evil Morty, a blue sphere formed from compressed soul matter—glowing faintly, humming with an unnatural resonance.
Evil Morty stepped forward slightly, brows lifting in sardonic calm.
"…Is this what you meant by 'benefits both of us?'"
Kang Woo folded his arms and tilted his head with a smirk.
"Taste a piece of that soul sphere. You'll understand."
Evil Morty didn't touch it. Instead, he crouched down and examined it closely, pupils narrowing. After a moment, realization clicked across his expression. "…This is the Auswählen . Quincy King's variant."
Kang Woo's eyes gleamed. "Oh? So you've heard of them."
Evil Morty slowly stood back up, eyes never leaving the soul sphere. " Data fragments. Enough to know the Soul King still exists—dormant, sealed. But… if someone powerful enough tries to steal or recreate his function too directly…"
He glanced at Kang Woo. "…There's a record. The Soul King reactivates. I don't want to pick a fight with someone on that scale yet."
Kang Woo let out a low chuckle, stretching one hand idly. "So? My offer stands — 80-20 on the Auswählen benefits. Every time a ritual is triggered, and a piece of my soul distribution scatters across Ricks or Mortys, you take twenty percent."
Evil Morty didn't hesitate. "Thirty percent. I get thirty, every time the ritual activates."
He folded his arms. "And every Rick or Morty hit with soul distribution… will carry part of you."
Kang Woo gave him a sideways look. "I figured you'd try for forty."
Evil Morty scoffed faintly. "I don't aim to become a god. right now. I just want to be a normal President Morty. Besides, godhood's a territory no one should touch.."
Makima, seated quietly beside Kang Woo, finally spoke — her voice dry and cool as her gaze shifted toward the window. There, the towering image of Evil Morty's face waved proudly on banners, etched onto the presidential flag above rows of Citadel towers.
"Pretty normal president," she said sarcastically. "Your face is plastered on every wall. Sounds more like a dictatorship."
Evil Morty gave her a grin. "Ricks and Mortys need fear to stay in line. Isn't that what you do, Control Devil? Although…your reign's still small. Just Japan."
Makima smiled thinly — the kind of smile that never reached the eyes. "Watch your back, President Morty, I'm starting to enjoy space travel. I might just expand beyond my world."
Beside her, Kang Woo reached into his chest. as he pulled out a glowing blue heart, still pulsing faintly in his palm. The light shimmered with deep resonance, filled with the echo of thousands of lives.
He handed it casually to Evil Morty.
Kang Woo said, "This heart, will produce whatever parts are needed to keep my soul distribution running. Consider it the core of the ritual."
Evil Morty took it without flinching, examining it as the chamber lights danced across its surface.
"And I'll be the distributor," he said simply.
In return, Evil Morty tossed Kang Woo three compact grenades — each one swirling with a faint temporal shimmer — and a small black vial sealed tight with stabilizer foam.
Makima narrowed her eyes, watching the exchange. "…Is that the experiment?". "The one Rick made that you really wanted?"
Evil Morty snorted. "I don't know why your boyfriend here wants to age himself a thousand years per hour — but hey, every freak has their drug phase."
Kang Woo casually inspected the grenades, flipping them one by one before slotting them into his system inventory with a flick of his wrist. The vial followed last — stored in a spatial compartment like sacred ammunition.
Then he glanced at Makima.
"What? Not gonna comment on how I'm being suicidal again?"
Makima didn't answer right away. Her eyes lingered on the place where he'd stored the vial..
But aloud, Makima tone was dry. "…Don't know. Maybe I'm starting not to care about you at all."
Kang Woo didn't press it. Instead, he turned to Evil Morty.
"The chancellors' coronation can wait. Right now, I have something else I want to attend to."
Evil Morty's eyes narrowed slightly, mind clicking into place.
"…You're going to do a Kaisergesang, Just like the Quincy King. But in a more extreme way."
Kang Woo just smirked. At his feet, a massive green magic circle ignited — lines of runes weaving beneath Makima and him.
"Gate," he said.
Makima blinked, then raised an eyebrow.
"…Shouldn't your portal pistol be enough to take us home?"
Before Kang Woo could answer,
Evil Morty chimed in with a scoff. "If a simple portal gun could let me travel across all multiverses without restriction, don't you think I would've done it already?"
Kang Woo nodded faintly.
"Right now, we're inside the Central Finite Curve. It's an interdimensional prison that walls off the infinite number of universes where Rick is the smartest person alive — from the rest of the multiverse."
He tapped the glowing lines beneath him with the heel of his boot.
"My Gate doesn't tear through that wall. It only works on places I've been. It's less like teleportation — more like flushing ourselves out of the Curve's plumbing."
Makima stared at the glyphs, processing.
Kang Woo turned to Evil Morty.
"…Don't tell me. After you broke the CFC, one of the first places you visited was Makima's world."
Evil Morty gave a lazy shrug. "Too many conflicts out there. I prefer to chill far away from problems. My only real goal was breaking out of the Curve and getting away from all the Ricks. Once I did that , Fresh start."
Kang Woo gave a dry snort. "Good luck with that."
Then, without fanfare, the Gate pulsed. Makima's hair fluttered from the sudden release of pressure as the floor vanished beneath them. With a flash of green and gold, both she and Kang Woo vanished — whisked away from the Citadel in a rush of runes and burning light.
And Evil Morty remained in the chamber alone, hands in his pockets, staring up at the ceiling as it dimmed. "…Fresh start , good luck with that"