SWNOVELXO Chapter 49: plan for future
Drop some stone don't let this book go to waste l love it with all my heart ❤️
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Morty let the last few drops of water roll down his throat, setting the glass on the counter with a practiced flick of his wrist. The clink it made against the polished kitchen surface was faint, almost reverent, like punctuation on a thought he'd already abandoned.
The joyride with Summer was already behind him, the laughter, the adrenaline, the speed all just echoes now. The house was silent again, the kind of Sunday silence that felt padded with time, like the whole world had taken a breath and held it.
He straightened his back and ran his hand along his collar, smoothing it with surgical precision. That little fix wasn't for anyone. It was a seal, a motion that whispered of calculation. Composure. Dominance.
He turned without a sound and moved up the stairs, each step taken like it belonged to someone who owned the space he was moving through.
His room was already dim when he entered, the faint orange glow from the setting sun leaking through the blinds, streaking lines across the floor like prison bars he'd already unlocked.
He didn't bother with overhead lights. Just reached over and flicked on the night lamp beside his bed, bathing the room in that amber hush that made everything feel one layer removed from reality. He sat at the edge of the bed, letting the weight of the day fold into the mattress behind him. There was a stillness in his limbs, but it wasn't fatigue. It was focus. Purpose.
The Ducati 916 was parked in the garage. Luis had called it a red demon with Italian soul, but to Morty, it was something more a foundation. A template. A beautiful piece of flesh waiting for the surgery of a god. He'd run his fingers along the tank before, feeling the story it already told and the one he wanted to write over it. The Sunday spree had furnished him with new clothes, shoes with bite in their soles, a cologne that lingered like a second skin, and jewelry that felt like quiet declarations. But none of that compared to the hunger he felt now. The hunger to create. To ascend. The Ducati was already stunning, but it wasn't his. Not yet.
He closed his eyes and let the possibilities bloom. New suspension systems that bent reality instead of rubber. Engines that ran on stabilized pocket-universe entropy. Tires that could grip neutronium if he wanted them to. A vehicle that didn't just move through roads it dominated dimensions. His mind first drifted to the obvious. Scrapyards. Exotic black-market vendors. Alien tech traders with oily grins and twitchy fingers. He could hustle them. Threaten them. Buy them. But that was pedestrian. That was for creatures of linear ambition. Morty didn't walk lines anymore.
And then it hit him. The garbage dimensions.
Rick had talked about them once, in that half-bored way he used when he didn't think Morty was paying attention. Dimensions he'd carved out and cast aside, reality-dumps where discarded inventions and failed projects rotted in piles too dangerous for any sane creature to dig through.
Except Morty wasn't sane. Not in that old soft way he used to be. And he wasn't a creature anymore either. He was something that had shed skin after skin until only the necessary remained.
Rick thought of those dimensions as dead ends. But Morty? Morty saw them as treasure chests with bleeding locks and broken hinges, just waiting to be cracked open by someone who knew where to cut.
He stood up slowly, the bed groaning under the shifting of weight like it knew he wouldn't return for a while. He walked to the window and glanced out, not at anything specific, just letting the view soak in an ordinary suburb dressing itself in the false gold of sunset.
And then he turned back, walked over to his dresser, and opened the top drawer. Inside, beneath the folded new shirts and new watches, was a handheld portal device of his own design. Sleeker than Rick's. Less garish. More efficient. It pulsed faintly in his palm, as if recognizing his intention.
[meme]
He didn't activate it. Not yet. That wasn't for tonight. He had planning to do. Maps to review. Blueprints to finalize. The Ducati would need a new skeleton, and not just in the metaphorical sense.
He'd need parts that laughed at physics, tech that bent space like it was soft paper. Some of it would be toxic to touch. Some of it would try to bond with his nervous system. He didn't care. If it bled, he'd use gloves. If it screamed, he'd mute it. If it tried to kill him, he'd kill it first. Because the end result wasn't just about riding the best vehicle in the universe. It was about owning something Rick hadn't thought of. Hadn't dared to think of.
His fingers twitched slightly, the only outward sign of the excitement pumping through his veins. He thought of the engine core he'd once seen in a forbidden schematic buried in one of Rick's old quantum notebooks untested, unstable, and perfect. He thought of armor made from compressed mythril-lattice carbon, aerodynamic to the point of invisibility. He thought of AI integration that didn't just assist the rider it studied them, molded to them, feared them. This wouldn't be a bike. It'd be a beast. One with Morty's name carved into every bolt and circuit.
He moved toward the lamp, fingers brushing the base for a second before he shut it off. Darkness bloomed around him, slow and velvet. There was no need for light anymore. Not tonight. Not for the kind of thoughts he was having.
The room settled behind him like a held breath.
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Bet you didn't see the portal gun coming huh..
Morty will now have the style,the ride,the artillery for adventure we all love
The adventure will be spontaneous,fun but most importantly controlled