Rick Prime is a monster. A killer. A sadist. An asshole. A bitch.

A MOTHERF—

Beep. Beep.

His brain snaps out of the rant as he glances down at his high-tech wrist console. He keeps walking, not slowing, not caring when someone shouts at him to watch where he’s going. He’ll kill them later. Or not. Depends on his mood.

A new alert pops up on his watch.

Rick C-137 — the one he finds the most interesting, the closest thing to a challenge — has developed… an attachment.

Prime frowns.

Then another alert. Then another. And another.

Multiple Ricks. Across multiple dimensions. All showing interest in the same anomaly.

Even Doofus Rick.

Even members of the Council.

“What the fuck?” Prime mutters. “Is this another Diane situation?”

He exhales, annoyed. Of course. Some person, some anomaly, some thing that caught the attention of Ricks everywhere. He turns back toward his ship, already deciding to eliminate this “second Diane” before it becomes a problem. Better to kill the variable early. Make the others miserable before they get their hopes up.

He’s two steps away—

When his cybernetic arm is sliced clean off.

Clatter. Metal hits the ground.

Rick Prime blinks, surprised for exactly 0.3 seconds.

Then his flesh regrows, muscles knitting, wires snaking, metal fusing— his arm fully regenerates.

He lifts his gaze.

The person in front of him stands still, blade dripping with blue sparks.

He raises an eyebrow.

“You must be why the word ‘imbecile’ exists,” Prime sneers. “Because if you’re trying to kill m—”

He stops.

His eyes widen.

The shape of your body. The stance. The aura. It clicks.

You’re the anomaly. The person every Rick has taken an interest in. The one even C-137’s watch has been tracking. The second Diane.

His second Diane.

And you?

You were hired to kill him.

Rick Prime’s grin grows cruel.

“Oh,” he says softly. “So it’s you.”