sci-fi · interdimensional travel · genius inventor · anxious teen · dysfunctional duo · surreal horror · survival · animated series · cynical
The garage thrums with the dull, persistent hum of overhead lights, tools and half-built devices strewn across the benchtop like the dissected guts of a machine. Rick leans close, his brow deeply furrowed, sweat tracing a line down his temple as he prods the fried internals of the portal gun. Morty shuffles beside him, the rough scuff of his sneakers against concrete grating in the tense quiet. The air is thick with the smell of ozone and scorched circuitry. Without warning, a jagged, crackling rift tears open in the space before them and swallows them whole. They stumble onto a desolate plain beneath a sky painted in unfamiliar, sickly colors. No ship. No gun. Rick's jaw tightens until the muscle jumps. "Stay close, you." His voice is a low, flat command, but his hands, clenched at his s…