Somewhere between dimensions, suspended in a rift made of dreamstuff and forgotten time, Rick Wyllis floated.
He wasn't sure how he got there.
He was sure it involved a sequence artifact, a sarcastic god, and possibly tacos.
"Okay, okay," Rick muttered, adjusting his cloak, "so Loki said, 'Don't touch the card while it's still glowing.' But it looked like a loot drop. You can't not touch glowing loot."
In the distance, a figure materialized, dressed in a sharp black coat, gold monocle glinting under the starlit abyss. His presence radiated eerie calm, like a librarian who'd seen too much.
"You're not supposed to be here," said Klein Moretti, aka The Fool, current resident of the gray fog throne.
Rick squinted. "Wait… are you God?"
Klein blinked.
"No."
"God-adjacent?"
"Also no."
Rick pointed dramatically. "You look like a guy who's very into tea, books, and having disturbing visions about the universe unraveling."
"That's… incredibly accurate."
"I know. I punch first, but I observe after."
Klein sighed. "You're bleeding Sequence energy into the Dream Pathway. That card you grabbed wasn't just a loot drop—it was a living fragment of my divinity. You fused it with your already unstable Beyonder state."
"Wait…" Rick said, eyes widening. "Am I evolving?"
Klein narrowed his gaze. "More like glitching. If you don't fix it, you'll either implode, explode, or turn into a tentacled entity that quotes Shakespeare backwards."
"That last one actually sounds kind of fun."
Before Klein could answer, the space around them shuddered. A jagged tear opened in the dream-sky, revealing a massive eye—a divine gaze laced with madness.
"Ah," Klein said. "You attracted the attention of the Outer Deity known as the Crawling Oracle."
Rick raised a hand. "Quick question: can I punch that?"
Klein stared at him. "...I mean, theoretically?"
Rick grinned.
"Perfect."
And then he leapt, cracking the sky with a roar as he punched the eye in the pupil.
The dream dimension rippled like water dropped onto lava. Screams echoed backward through time. A choir of mad prophets somewhere started rapping in Latin.
Klein was blown back into his throne, sputtering. "Wh—WHY?!"
"Hey, you said theoretically!" Rick called, fist still embedded in a glowing retina. "And I am a man of action!"
The eye recoiled. The dream realm sealed itself shut with a sound like a closing book made of teeth.
Rick landed beside Klein, only mildly smoking.
"I think it blinked," he said proudly.
Klein pinched the bridge of his nose. "You just sucker-punched a Primordial. Do you understand what kind of balance you've upset?"
Rick scratched his head. "Balance… like karma?"
"Like the fate of all dimensions, you human-shaped apocalypse!"
"Hey," Rick said, "if punching it was bad, maybe punching it again will cancel it out. Like math. Two negatives make a positive."
Klein decided not to respond.
Instead, he pulled a deck of tarot cards from the air and held it out.
"You've created a link now. Between you and the Fool's Sequence. You need to learn to control it—or at least contain it. Here."
Rick grabbed the cards. They pulsed with power and smugness.
"Nice," he said. "Do they explode?"
"They do... many things," Klein said ominously. "Just try not to use them for Uno."
Rick blinked. "What's Uno?"
Klein looked stricken. "Oh dear."
Back in the real world—Hogwarts Tower of Dimensional Safety Protocols (aka "Rick's Time-Out Corner")
Loki paced the floor while Harry Potter stared at a spinning crystal that displayed Rick's vitals.
"His chaos levels are rising," Harry muttered. "That's not good."
"I don't get it," Loki said. "He's strong. Dangerously strong. But he's like a magical golden retriever with the power of a demigod."
A portal opened in midair, and Rick stumbled through, covered in divine goo and muttering, "Punched an eye, made a friend, got some cards, possibly turned into a concept for a second."
Harry blinked. "...You were gone for seven minutes."
Rick grinned. "Plenty of time for character development."
Loki tilted his head. "Did you destabilize another deity?"
Rick held up the tarot deck. "Yes. But I also got this! It's like Pokémon but with unknowable forces."
Harry reached out to touch it. The cards growled.
He pulled back. "I hate that I know this, but that's a piece of the Fool's divine consciousness."
Rick nodded. "Yup. Klein said if I don't learn to use it, I'll explode or go insane. Maybe both. Should be fun!"
Loki sighed. "So now what?"
Rick's grin widened.
"Now… we train. Hogwarts style."
Harry stared.
"No. Absolutely not. The last time you said 'Hogwarts style' a dragon caught fire."
"It was already on fire, Harry. I just made it more on fire."
Later that week… in the Room of 'Definitely Not Safe'
Rick stood in a magical dueling circle, cards glowing in one hand, wand sparking in the other. Across from him stood a confused SHIELD trainee, a werewolf professor, and a magical clone of Deadpool someone accidentally summoned.
He cracked his neck.
"Alright! Who wants to help me learn how to not explode while casting god-magic through violence?"
Everyone raised their hand.
Except Deadpool. He pointed two katanas at Rick and whispered, "Bring it, muscle Gandalf."
Rick smiled.
He was going to like training.