The transition from C-137 to the "replacement" dimension was seamless for Rick and Morty, but for Alex, it was a moment of profound calculation. Standing in the garage as Rick C-137 stepped through the portal, Alex froze for exactly two seconds. He recognized the slight difference in the dilation of Rick's pupils—this wasn't his Rick, but in the infinite multiverse, "his" was a relative term. "Hi, Rick," Alex said, recovering with a smirk that mirrored the scientist's own nihilism. Rick grunted a greeting, and the status quo was established. Alex's presence was a statistical anomaly Rick didn't care to solve yet; he was just glad the "twin brother" variable didn't come with extra whining.
The next day, the household was vibrating with the existential dread of Rixty Minutes. While the rest of the family spiraled over their "better" alternate lives, Alex found Summer in the kitchen, her eyes red from the realization that she was an unwanted pregnancy. Alex didn't offer a hug; he offered a perspective. "You're looking at it like a mistake, Summer. I look at it like a chaotic miracle of biology." He spent the afternoon anchoring her, providing a grounded contrast to Morty's frantic "nobody exists on purpose" speech. When the Council of Ricks eventually descended to arrest C-137, Alex stayed behind. He had plans with Tricia Lange, but as he watched Summer moping on the porch, he felt a flicker of protective instinct—or perhaps, an opportunity to test his theories on human potential.
"Forget the high school drama, Summer. Let's go for a ride," Alex said, pulling out a makeshift portal device he'd been tinkering with. They spent the day traversing dimensions that defied logic: one where sentient robots fought an eternal, beautiful war across neon plains, and another where every animal was a randomized chimera of Earth species. Throughout the trip, Alex was "foraging," collecting rare isotopes and biological samples. By sunset, Summer was beaming. "This was the best day of my life," she admitted. Alex looked at her, his blue-grey hair messy from the wind of a thousand worlds. "Let's make it better." He pulled her into a kiss, and before she could pull away, he bypassed her gag reflex to slide a translucent bio-capsule down her throat.
The morning after was a revelation. Summer woke up feeling a strange, heavy ache in her chest. When she looked in the mirror, she screamed—not in horror, but in shock. Her skin was flawless, her height had adjusted by an inch of pure grace, and her curves had "optimized" into a physique that looked like a sculpted goddess. She cornered Alex in the garage, demanding to know what he'd done. Alex didn't even look up from his microscope. "I just optimized your DNA, Summer. It's how you would've looked if the Smith-Sanchez gene pool wasn't a dumpster fire of poor nutrition and stress. Consider it a patch update." When Beth and Jerry saw her, they were speechless. "Puberty hit me like a truck," Summer lied, her eyes locked on Alex with a new, burning intensity.