The air in the Citadel of Ricks was thick with the metallic tang of industrialized genius and the copper scent of impending death. Alex walked two paces behind Rick and Morty, his blue-grey hair a stark visual defiance of the sea of identical Ricks surrounding them. While Morty was distracted by the sheer scale of the metropolis and Rick C-137 was focused on his ancient grudges, Alex was scanning the architecture with a different intent. He wasn't there for the politics or the shared trauma of being a "sidekick"; he was there to witness the end of an era and harvest the wreckage. When they finally reached the President's office and the truth of Evil Morty's plan unfolded—the harvesting of Morty brains, the corruption of the Central Finite Curve—Alex didn't flinch. He watched with a cold, appreciative eye as Evil Morty dismantled the prison Rick had built around the multiverse.
As the Citadel began to tear itself apart, the yellow portal fluid coursing through the station's veins like lethal gold, Alex moved with a precision that bordered on the supernatural. Rick and Morty were scrambling to survive the collapse, but Alex was focused on the fluid. He pulled a specialized containment unit from his subspace pocket—a device he had spent months perfecting during the quiet nights with Beth and Summer. He didn't need much; just enough to reverse-engineer the frequency. While the "Morty-shield" was failing and the Ricks were being blended into a cosmic slurry, Alex captured a pure stream of the Golden Fluid. He watched through the viewport as Evil Morty's ship pierced the yellow barrier, leaving the "Morty-dome" behind. Rick's portal gun was sparking, the blue fluid inside turned to sludge by the disruption, but Alex's storage remained pristine. He let Space Beth swoop in to "save" them, playing the role of the rescued brother perfectly, while secretly feeling the weight of the multiverse's key now sitting in his pocket.
The return to Earth was a period of forced domesticity that Alex used to tighten his grip on the household. With the portal network down, Rick was grounded, surly, and vulnerable. Alex, however, was in his element. When the alien parasite Mr. Fumbles threatened to erase their entire reality, Alex didn't wait for a Rick-styled miracle. He moved before the creature could even begin its exponential consumption of the universe, catching it in a chronal-stasis jar and tossing the "Other Jerry"—the one from the divorce dimension—back into a rift before the universe sealed. It was a clean-up job that earned him a look of genuine, if brief, respect from Rick. With the house secured and the "Two Beths" now a permanent fixture, the atmosphere in the Smith household shifted from chaotic to curated. Alex found himself at the center of a new dynamic, a threesome of intellect and desire that Beth and Space Beth embraced as a rejection of the "Jerry-era" of their lives.
While the family celebrated their survival, Alex retreated to the garage. He had the Golden Fluid, but he lacked the hardware to stabilize it for inter-fictional travel. He needed a gun that didn't rely on the "Rick-logic" of the Central Finite Curve. When the Dinosaurs arrived on Earth, offering their utopian solutions and effortless godhood, Alex saw his opportunity. While Rick was busy being a stubborn, ego-driven contrarian, Alex was observing the tech the saurians used. When they eventually grew bored of humanity's stubbornness and handed Rick a "perfect" portal gun before leaving, Rick's instinct was to smash it out of spite. Alex was faster. He intercepted the device before it hit the concrete. "Don't be a child, Rick," Alex said, his voice dripping with a calculated boredom. "If you don't want it, I'll use it to keep the yard clean." Rick grunted and walked away, leaving Alex with the final piece of the puzzle: a weapon capable of firing the Golden Fluid without shattering under the pressure of non-Rick realities.