The next morning, he got up early *Downstairs, the Echo Echo cloned Morty was already busy—making massive amounts of food for the growing household. Simultaneously, Morty used the cosmic power of Alien X to conjure a five-story mansion. The structure shimmered into existence outside—modern gothic architecture with perfect lighting and soundproofing.*
*Morty had already handled the paperwork—the land was legally purchased through a shell company. No questions asked. The five-story mansion sat perfectly on the property—modern gothic architecture that blended seamlessly with the landscape.
*In the kitchen, the Echo Echo clones were already flipping pancakes and cooking bacon.*
*Beth walked in—staring at the massive windows overlooking the new mansion.*
Beth blinked—her mouth hanging open.
"What... what is this?" *She gestured vaguely at the window.* "That's a five-story mansion."
*Morty shrugged casually while flipping pancakes.* "I bought the land. Then built that."
*Summer and MJ shuffled into the kitchen—staring.*
"That's our house?" *Summer asked.*
"Yes."
"So we're living in a five-story mansion now?" Summer asked—stunned. "With like, unlimited space?" MJ looked around the huge kitchen."And a pool? And a movie theater?" Beth nodded approvingly—impressed by Morty's massive investment.
Mavis descended the stairs slowly—still in her oversized t-shirt and undies. She stopped dead at the bottom of the staircase—staring at the new mansion through the window.
"Morty..." She whispered—her eyes wide."Where did you get the money for this?"
Morty continued cooking calmly."Alien X. I can create anything I want."
*Mavis walked up behind Morty—wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Her chin rested on his shoulder as she watched him cook.*
"You created a whole mansion... for us?"
Morty smiled—flipping a pancake perfectly."Well yeah. You're carrying my baby. You deserve more than just my tiny bedroom."
Beth watched the tender moment with a soft smile—impressed by Morty's generosity and thoughtfulness. She realized that her son wasn't just providing for his family—he was building an empire for them. Summer and MJ were already planning the new housewarming party in their heads.
Morty used Alien X's power again—shimmering the mansion's interior to add three perfect nurseries. One themed dark gothic for Mavis's baby—velvet drapes, silver crib, black lace accents. One pastel pink for MJ's baby—floral wallpaper, white wicker furniture. One soft purple for Summer's baby—lavender accents, butterfly motifs.
Mavis wandered into her nursery first—gasping. The gothic theme was perfect. Dark purple walls with silver stars hanging from the ceiling. A beautiful black crib in the corner with silver bedding.
"It's... it's beautiful." She whispered—running her fingers along the silver star decorations.
Summer was in her nursery—bouncing on the plush lavender rug.
Summer was practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the plush lavender rug.
"No way! Purple butterflies everywhere! And look at this crib!"
MJ walked into her pink nursery, eyes wide. The floral wallpaper was delicate, with white wicker furniture that looked handcrafted. A mobile of tiny flowers hung above the crib.
"Morty... this is way too much."
Beth stood in the hallway, arms crossed, watching her son.
Morty stood in the hallway between the three nurseries, hands in his pockets, looking almost embarrassed by all the attention.
"It's nothing. I mean, I literally snapped my fingers and it happened. Alien X makes things easy."
Mavis walked over and kissed him on the cheek, her fangs brushing his skin gently.
"You created three perfect nurseries. For your family. That's not nothing."
A knock came at the door and Beth went to answer the door. She blinked when she saw who was standing there.
"Elena?"
Elena stood on the doorstep—elegant and composed but with a tense expression. Her eyes darted past Beth to see the mansion in the background.
"Is Morty inside?" she asked—her voice carefully neutral.
Summer poked her head out of her nursery. MJ followed.
Beth opened the door wider, stepping aside for Elena to enter.
"Morty's in the kitchen. What are you doing here, Elena?"
Elena walked in—her eyes taking in the new mansion, the three nurseries visible through the open doors, and the clutter of baby supplies everywhere. She spotted Morty and headed straight for him.
"Morty. We need to talk."
Morty was mid-flip with a pancake—his expression shifting from casual to guarded as Elena approached. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller.
"Elena." He set the spatula down slowly."It's early. What's going on?"
Mavis appeared in the doorway—her arms crossed, eyes narrowing at Elena. The tension was thick.
Elena ignored Mavis—her focus solely on Morty. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Mark and I had an argument last night. He's suspicious." She glanced around the kitchen—taking in the baby supplies, the messy counters, the Echo Echo clones bustling about. "About my late night."
"Do you want me to handle him."
Elena's eyes flickered to Mavis—then back to Morty. She hesitated before answering. "Yes." Her voice was low and serious. "He's starting to ask questions. He saw me coming home late last night." She paused—her gaze drifting to Morty's stomach.
Morty set down the spatula completely, turning to face Elena fully. His expression was calm but calculating.
"Handle him how? We're not just going to kill him, Elena. That's not how we do things." He glanced at Mavis briefly before looking back at Elena. "He's your husband. That's... complicated."
Mavis shifted her weight—her fangs glinting slightly.
Morty rubbed his jaw—thinking.
"The video evidence you mentioned earlier. You still have it?"
Elena nodded. "Saved on a private drive. Three separate occasions. Hotel rooms. The same woman every time. A college named Tiffany."
Morty whistled low. "Three times? Damn, Mark." He leaned against the counter. "And you want to release it publicly or just to lawyers?"
Elena hesitated—her hand unconsciously drifting to her stomach again. "Just lawyers. I don't want to destroy him publicly. I just want out. Cleanly."
Morty nodded slowly, then snapped his fingers. A small tablet materialized in his hand.
"Already pulling the files from your drive." He tapped the screen. "Send this to your lawyer—done. And I've already drafted divorce papers."
Elena blinked—confused. "Drafted? When? How?"
Morty shrugged—flipping another pancake with his free hand. "Alien X. I can simulate outcomes. I already ran 4,000 scenarios for your divorce. The most probable outcome is you keeping the house, half the assets, and zero alimony because Mark has... dirt too."
Elena stiffened.
"What dirt?" Elena's eyes narrowed.
"Mark's been skimming from his firm's accounts for six years. I've got the bank records," Morty said casually—flipping another pancake. "Plus the cheating. Plus the divorce lawyers will find it anyway during the asset split. It's an easy win."
Elena's mouth went dry.
"How do you know about his embezzlement?" Elena demanded—her voice tight.
Morty shrugged—not looking up from the pancakes. "Ran a search. Embezzlement, offshore accounts, shell companies—Mark has a nice little paper trail. He's been funneling money into a Cayman account since 2018."
Morty set down the spatula—his gaze sharpening. The casual demeanor evaporated. The smirk gone.
"You should know better than to ask how I know about his embezzlement, Elena."
His eyes flicked to Mavis—then back to Elena. Cold. Calculating.
"I know everything. Mark, his firm, Tiffany, the Cayman accounts."
"Mark needs to sign the divorce papers by Friday," Morty continued—leaning against the counter. "If he doesn't... well. I can make him very cooperative. One mark on the right shoulder—that's all it would take. He'd sign everything voluntarily. Smile while doing it."
Elena's breath hitched. She recognized that tone. It wasn't the Morty she'd fucked.
Elena's pulse spiked—she'd felt the difference during sex. The Morty who fucked her was almost... gentle. Controlled. This Morty was something else entirely.
"And if he refuses?" she whispered.
Morty flipped a pancake—perfectly golden. "He won't. I've already calculated the optimal approach. Signature by Friday."
Morty slid the pancake onto a plate and set it in front of Elena with a fork. "Eat. You look pale." His voice was casual but carried an undercurrent of command.
Elena picked up the fork—her hand trembling slightly. "You're going to mark him? Without asking?"
Morty shrugged. "You asked me to handle it." He wiped his hands on a towel.
Mavis stepped forward—her arms crossed. Her fangs glinted. "Morty. That's a big claim. You're saying you can make him sign anything?"
Morty didn't even look at her. "One mark. Right shoulder. He'll sign the divorce, waive alimony, leave the house—everything. That sounds like hypnosis."
Morty tilted his head—smiling slightly. "Hypnosis is messy. Unreliable. One mark though? That's absolute. His body won't be able to say no." He pulled a napkin across the counter. "Difference is hypnosis wears off. The mark stays. But I don't need it to stay. Once he signs—I dismiss it. He forgets the whole thing."
Elena frowned.
"Wait—he forgets everything?" Elena asked.
Morty nodded. "Complete amnesia regarding the conversation. He wakes up, signs papers, thinks it was his own idea. No suspicion. No retaliation." He paused—tapping the counter rhythmically. "Unless you want him to remember."
Elena shook her head. "No. Definitely not." She took a bite of pancake. "So how exactly do you mark someone?"
Morty's expression shifted—something dark flickering behind his eyes.
"Handshake. Shoulder pat. High five. Anything skin to skin." He leaned forward—elbows on the counter. "Once I touch him—the sigil bonds. Invisible. Permanent until I dismiss it. He won't even feel it."
Elena swallowed hard.
"And you can track him too?"
Morty nodded. "the seal will act as a homing beacon telling me where he is."
Mavis moved closer—leaning against the fridge. "So Mark goes to sign divorce papers. Comes here Friday. Morty shakes his hand."
"Exactly." Morty picked up another pancake—flipping it effortlessly. "He leaves with memories of wanting a mutual divorce. You get everything. And he never knows why."
Elena felt her stomach flip—but not from the baby.
"You mentioned something earlier," Elena said carefully—keeping her voice steady. "You said one mark on the right shoulder. Why the right shoulder specifically?"
Morty paused mid-flip. His eyes met hers—reading her instantly.
"Because if I mark the right shoulder the sigil sits right over his brachial plexus." He held up a finger. "One precise command can trigger physical compliance."
"Now I'm going to send a clone to do that. Why don't you make yourself at home? There's Something That I need to attend it." said Morty going into the garage