It Came From Outer Space (Mira-Charma13 and Dip)

[Mira-Charma13]

Year One​

"Man, he was really kooky this time, wasn't he? I mean, he's weird to begin with but it was just over the top today! I'm getting kinda tired of this."

"I don't understand why you don't just fess up and tell him the truth if you're tired of it. Nobody's stopping you."

"Oh, yeah? And what am I gonna say, huh?! Oh, yeah, we've been lying to you this entire time and your so-called-mission is just a sham meant to make us and everyone else laugh at how pathetic and inept you are!"

"Uh...that. You'd say exactly that."

"...Oh. Yeah. Guess I could just say that! But aren't you afraid he's gonna come charging back here with a vengeance and, I don't know, try to blow us up or something?"

"Zim? Blow us up? Yeah right! He's too busy blowing up himself and screwing up his stupid, asinine plans! Like he'd ever come after us. After all, we're his best friends, right?"

"Like I'd ever wanna be friends with that puny little moron! Who would? I mean, he's completely useless! Everything he touches he ruins! I still can't believe he hasn't figured out that we've always hated him, even after all this time."

"He's not exactly the intelligent sort. You know, I'd bet he's so gullible that he probably wouldn't believe the truth if he heard it straight from our mouths!"

"...Are you sure about that? My Tallest?"

Silence. The shrill squeaking of a straw being pushed up and down within a plastic lid was what finally broke it.

"...Welp, that's awkward. You forgot to cut the connection again, didn't you, Purple?"

"Whoops! My bad."

Year Two​

"Our new Tallest is a strange one, isn't he?"

"Eh? What makes you say that all of a sudden?"

"I mean, look at him! This is supposed to be a celebration! Operation Impending Doom II is done and dusted, and the glorious Irken Empire has emerged victorious as always! But he's just...sitting there. All by himself with that idiot SIR of his. He's not even eating anything. An Irken who doesn't want to chow after a flawless victory--what even is that?"

"Hmm...he does seem to be a bit down. Maybe you ought to ask him to dance."

"Me?! Ask the Tallest to dance?! N-no way! Besides...he's just...weird to me. I don't get good vibes from him. I think I'd rather not associate myself with him on a personal level."

"You're right about that. He doesn't fit in at all. Never did. You think the rumor's true? The one about him being severely Defective?"

"I don't know. But I have my suspicions...maybe I ought to report him to the Control Brains..."

"You shouldn't talk about our Tallest like that!"

"Shut up, Skoodge, you little half-pint! No one asked for your input!"

Year Three​

"So...you've known about Zim's condition all along, have you?"

Skoodge dropped his gaze, not wanting to meet the accusing eyes of his leader. "...I...I suspected," he admitted after a tense moment of silence. "We all do, you know. I'm not the only one. They knew, too."

Massive magenta eyes, sparkling like jewels, narrowed into minuscule slits. "...I see." The voice that spoke was soft, calm, and sedated. The tone alone had alarms blaring within Skoodge's skulls. Zim was never this calm or quiet, unless he was about to explode with anger...or he was having one of his bad days. Those were more frequent now than they were before.

"And?" The lanky Irken paced back and forth across the length of the room, blocking the only exit in the process. Skoodge couldn't help feeling like a cornered prey animal. "What do you intend to do now that your suspicions have been confirmed?" The taller being inquired, one antenna rising.

Skoodge bowed his head, making an effort to display not even a trace of tension. "Nothing." Zim paused in his pacing, peering over his shoulder at his much smaller counterpart. "Nothing?" "Nothing," Skoodge echoed, finally lifting his eyes. "We've known each other for a long time. I always looked up to you, even though I knew something was off from the moment we met. And I...I despise Red and Purple." One of Zim's eyelids twitched with fury at the mere mention of those forbidden names. "You never judged me for my height," the smaller Irken continued, shuffling his boots against the metal paneled floor. "Just for my skill. And...well, I appreciate that. So...I'm gonna take that secret with me to the grave. Okay?"

Zim snorted and turned away, but Skoodge swore he caught a glimpse of his leader's lips curling upward in a smirk.

Year Four​

"We're under attack!"

Alarms blared, sirens squealed, and Irkens scrambled to their assigned battle stations. The Irken Armada dwarfed the attacking fleet of enemies but had been caught by surprise. Skoodge shouted out orders and commands, directing the troops as best he could in the absence of their Tallest. Those ships were familiar--primarily Vortian and Meekrob ships. There was no doubt about it--that was the combined fleet of the Meekrob and the Resisty hitting them with everything they had!

And yet, Zim was nowhere to be found. As the battle raged on outside Zim stayed cooped up in his private chambers, outright ignoring the carnage.

That was worrisome. Zim always loved to get in on the action! Maybe his depression was really starting to get the better of him. Between bellowing out commands to shoot with reckless abandon, Skoodge made a mental note to quietly put his leader on self-destruct watch tonight.

Year Five​

"I have an insane idea, Skoodge."

"WOO!" The tiny silver robot suddenly launched himself off of Zim's lap, happily sprinting circles around his chair. "I like insane things!"

"Well, that's nice to hear." Skoodge made little effort to conceal the surprise in his voice as he took a seat across from the seemingly disinterested Tallest. "It's a nice change from the doom and gloom you've been spreading around all week," he continued carefully, offering Zim a brightly-wrapped sweet. Zim's owlish eyes darted up to fix on the treat before he snatched it out of Skoodge's hand, tearing idly at the paper.

"...So?" "So what?" Skoodge snorted. "What's this insane idea you've got cooking? You seem a lot peppier than you were yesterday." Zim rolled some food around on his tray, eyes half-lidded and antennae bouncing a bit. "Zim is going to divert the Armada starting tomorrow." "Divert the Armada?" Skoodge squinted suspiciously. "For what?" Zim made a popping sound with his lips. "Things." "What kind of things?" "Personal things." "Zim!" "Whaaat?!"

Skoodge took a deep breath. He had to remember that he was dealing with a severely Defective Irken with a fragile psyche. "You know I can't help you unless you tell me what you plan on doing," he reminded the other in a stern tone. Zim blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes, but complied anyway.

"We're taking a bit of a detour. A long detour." "Now?" Skoodge frowned. "We've got an Invasion Operation to watch over! How long is this going to take?" "Ehh..." Zim shrugged his shoulders. "Six months?" "Six months?!" Skoodge repeated, looking flabbergasted. He was about to protest more, but a venomous glare from his leader convinced him to restrain himself. Instead, he asked, "Okay. Why are we taking this detour, now?" Zim popped the sweet Skoodge gave him earlier straight into his mouth. "Zim wants to drop in on an old friend," he muttered with his mouth full. "That is all."

An old friend...? Skoodge was instantly curious, but he knew better than to pry. "I didn't know you had any friends besides me and your little robots." Zim shrugged his shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Where are we headed, then?" Skoodge pressed, hoping the conversation wouldn't die--this was the liveliest Zim had been in days. Something flashed in Zim's magenta orbs.

"Planet Earth."

Year Six​

"Now remember what I told you, GIR! Let's go through it again."

"Uh-huh."

"This letter is for the Dib-human."

"Okay."

"I've programmed the directions to his place of dwelling into your navigational chip."

"Uh-huh."

"Go straight there. No detours."

"Can I get some tacos on the way?"

"Only after you deliver the letter."

"Aww..."

"Now, then...with all of that in mind, are you ready?"

"I guess so."

The side door of the Ring Cutter opened with a loud swoosh, revealing a stunning backdrop of pine trees swaying in the wind and stars sparkling in the night sky overhead. GIR instantly oohed and ahhed, trotting his way down the ramp and onto the soft grass. Zim peered at him from within the ship, watching as he immediately got distracted and started chasing a firefly.

"Hurry up, GIR! Zim cannot afford to waste time!" "Okey-dokey!" The badly-disguised robot scurried off into the trees. Zim watched him go until he could no longer spot him. Sending GIR out into the world alone was a risky move. He could easily be captured by the enemy. But somehow...he knew deep down that GIR would be just fine.

 

[Dip]

ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴏɴᴇ
​

The sad little boy had spent hours upon hours hiding in his little burrow that he called a room. He spent days working relentlessly. He spent weeks following that little disgusting pathetic hideous creature that everyone had dared to call a human, and now, it felt like he had spent his entire begin on catching this monster in the act.

What act? Well, the act of... being. The act of living, surviving, breathing. The act of being entirely fact, and nothing of fiction. Dib Membrane had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into this new creation, and it was going to succeed if it was going to kill him. The young occultist propelled himself from the workbench to his computer and booted the system up. He typed erratically on the loud keyboard, and pressed enter with a satisfying "click".

The young man waited anxiously as he watched the screen turn dark, and soon, turn into a warming blue color. An eyeball winked at him from the monitor, and Dib waited to get into contact with the one person who would give him a chance: Agent Darkbootie. The screen flickered slowly, and a pair of red eyes opened in the darkness.

"Agent Mothm--"

"Oh man, I am so glad you answered. Last week, I had to wait like, an entire hour before someone hung up on me. I thought for sure I'd have to call 98 times, like last time."

"What do you want, Agent Mothman? You better not be wasting my time..." The man behind the camera sneered. Dib cleared his voice, and spoke.

"Right-- no, yes, you're right-- You're not right, I'm not wasting your time, I swear, this is important. This is--"
"About that alien?"

Dib chuckled. While if anyone else would have asked, he would have fought tooth and nail to defend himself, he was collective and cool. He was confident that this was going to work-- he knew it was! If it wasn't (which is was), he would have not even bothered to call the other. "Yes, it's about that alien, but it's so much more than that. I can finally-- wait for it... Get proof! And I'm going to do it live! For the WHOLE Network!!"

"Remember how well that went last time?"

"Yes," Dib exasperated. He mocked Agent Darkbootie's tone, using two fingers on each hand as air-quotes. "I know how well that went last time. But this isn't going to be like last time!! Because this plan is entirely, 100% fool proof! I guarantee it-- I mean, I did make this thing."

"Now, Agent Mothman, what exactly is this thing?"

"This THING that you call it, is my life's work. I spent weeks on this thing, and you will not believe the detail I put in it-- let me show you!" Dib scooted his chair over to his workbench, and from the table grabbed a smooth, round, compact disk that resembled something very similar to a vinyl, or perhaps a thin saw-blade. The thing that set it apart from those two items was the fact that it was entirely circular, with no hole in the middle. Dib scrambled back to his computer and held up his invention for his entire audience of one to see.

"... You called me, so you could show me a plate?"

Dib gasped. "This isn't a PLATE you SIMPLETON! This is a work of art!" Dib stood up, and began pacing about the room as he held his very smooth plate like a child, or a very sick puppy. :"This is the thing that's going to end Zim once and for all! This thing, as you call it, is the most amazing thing I've ever created! This... is REMI!"

"...You named your plate Remi?"

"Would you shut up? I did not name my plate, I have my plate-- Er, I gave REMI a sophisticated acronym! Remove, Entangle, Mortify and Innihilate."

"News flash, kid. Annihilate starts with an A, not an I."

"Innihilate.... Annihilate... REMA? W-Whatever! That doesn't matter! What matters is, I will be sending this discrete robot through that window, and it will then use global positioning to find it's way into Zim's yard, and then burrow deep underground, attacking the base from below-- hollowing it out from the outside! It will collect data, samples, audio recording, video recording, and it has a battery life of four months! And lucky you, you get to see me test it LIVE!!"

Dib stopped his pacing, and held REMI triumphantly. He moved quickly, positioning his webcam in such a way that it would show Dib, standing pathetically in front of his closed bedroom curtains. Dib waited a moment to make sure that Darkbootie had given him his full attention, and he dramatically pulled back the curtains.

Only to realize, the house across the street was... gone.
​

ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴡᴏ
​

Being a teenager was hard.

Going to highschool was hard.

Living without your nemesis was... hard.

It had been an entire calendar year from when Zim had left the little blue and green rock and Dib had called home. When Dib first realized that Zim had left, and when DIb first realized that Earth was safe from foreign invaders, the strange young man felt like he had saved the planet. He felt like he was the reason humanity continued to live on. He bragged about it for weeks on weeks, but the bragging turned from happy to sad quickly when Dib realized that he had nothing to do.

Dib had spent so much time chasing the alien, he forgot how to chase anything else. He forgot how to properly scavange for ghosts. He forgot the locations he had marked for optimal Bigfoot lurking. He had forgotten to be himself, as it seemed that Dib was entirely surrounded by Zim. Dib would wake up, and think of Zim. Eat breakfast, Zim. Go to school, Zim. Go to bed, Zim. His rivalry and his lust for winning had hollowed out Dib from the outside in-- much like his invention REMI was to do.

When Dib had to be an individual, it was hard. Highschool was full of individuals, and Dib felt like he was just... nobody. The old Dib was gone, and that Dib had left with Zim an entire year ago. The young occultist closed the locker and carried his books in his arms as walked to his class. A shove from someone here, a trip from another there, and he made it to his class.

Sometimes Dib felt that he should have been the one to leave, not Zim.
​

ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
​

Dib stormed out of the front door, slamming it in the process. Hot alligator tears streamed down his face pathetically as he ran his away across the street, nearly tripping over the curb as he moved from pavement to sidewalk. He fell onto the grass of where the house once stood, and he beat his fist on the ground where it stood.

Dib knew he was a pathetic sight to see. He was sure that anyone who was watching him felt sorry for him-- or, atleast, they felt better because they didn't have the misfortune to be him. Dib looked up at nothing, sobbing silently. He spoke, wishing he could talk to the alien that had ruined his life.

"I was suppose to fix everything--I was suppose to be a hero!!" Dib exasperated, starting slowly but soon gaining momentum. He felt like he was running from a tumbling train, and the years of pent-up emotion were barreling down the tracks after him. He felt himself slowing down, panicking, gaining speed, growing tired, stopping, and finally... getting hit. "...But nothing... Nothing has changed! I'm still fighting with you. And everyone still thinks that I'm... insane."

Insane...

Dib had heard other people speak those words to him before, but he had never used them to describe himself before. It hurt. It hurt a lot to hear himself say it. Others have called him that before, sure, even his own family regarded him as that from time to time, but Dib was fine with ignoring it. But it had been so hard to ignore it lately. All of the whispering, all of the talking, all of the relentless bullying, everything had been so hard lately, and now Dib had no one to blame it on.

He had no one to point at, and say 'this! this is why i'm like this! this is the cause of my anger, emotions, hatred--everything! this right here!!' He had no one to blame but himself. Zim was gone. He wasn't coming back. Zim was hardly even real. Dib rubbed the tears from his eyes, and stood up slowly. He looked at the empty lot through red eyes and moist glasses, and kept a stiff upper lip. He turned his back to the empty plot of land. Dib turned his back on humanity.

Dib decided not to blame anyone. Dib decided to stop crying over ghosts.

Dib was no longer insane.
​

ʏᴇᴀʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ
​

The feeling of ones body getting shoved into a high, condensed, crammed space was not a pleasant one, nor was it enjoyable in the slightest. The crampiness of ones arms, legs, hands, feet, and neck from hours of hanging out within the same locker was also a situation that someone would not wish to find themselves in. Dib, however, was fortunate that he was as scrawny and thin as he was, or else he would have never dreamed of getting crammed in a locker.

This was a daily occurrence, really. He had to admit, when he was a freshman, get shoved into lockers was a terrifying prospect, but now it was apart of life. If he wasn't shoved in a locker, it felt like there was something missing in his day. He felt like he got all of his planning done within the times that he was inside the locker, but today was the day that Dib would act on those plans.

The locker-shoving wasn't strategic or graceful at all-- statistically speaking, it was pathetic and totally predictable. The bullies-- Rod, Ace, and Cid-- shoved him into whatever locker he was closest to at the time. Dib had known this, and for the past three weeks, he was shoved into either his own locker, or the locker next to himself. The plus-side of getting shoved into his own locker was that he access to his tools, access to his software, and access to all of his technology. The plus-side of getting shoved into the locker next to him was the space. When he needed to work, he would stand near the bigger, more spacious locker. When he needed to organize and plan, he headed into his own.

Today, he had been pushed into the locker next to his, and he was working hard. Dib had been shoved at his regular time of 10:45 AM, and it was soon approaching the end of lunch, 12:55 PM. Dib had spent that time adding the final adjustments to not one, but three personalized hells for each and every one of his bullies. Dib waited eagerly inside the locker, his backpack in front of him and wide open. He looked at the electric watch on his wrist and saw that it was 12:54 PM. The entire thing worked like clockwork-- or so Dib had hoped. If there was one miscalculation within his scheme, it was possible that Dib would be getting each personal hell.

Dib squinted at the light as it streamed beautifully on his face. The door to the locker opened, and Dib was soon face-to-face-to-face with the three horsemen of the apocalypse. Dib tried to suppress a snicker as he kept his act up.

"Can I go now?" Dib asked, quite pathetically.

"No."

"No."

"No."

Dib sighed. This always happened. They would rough him up for about five minutes until class started, and then Dib would be alone. But not today. Not this time. Dib looked to his watch and smiled wickedly. The clock struck 12:55 PM, and his creations were coming alive. He felt them move impatiently within his backpack, clawing at the thin material. Dib unzipped the top, and out came three small, seemingly friendly automatons, with faces that matched each one of theirs. The three stooges looked at them in amazement and perplexion. The green-eyed, blue-eyed, and purple-eyed robots watched their subjects carefully, and waited soundlessly.

At least, they did. Before they latched onto their heads and began ripping at their hair and pulling at their skin relentlessly.

Dib watched the chaos and loved it. These kids had got what they had paid for, and Dib was sure that those three would never forget it. Dib wanted to watch the shit-show ensue, but he had homework to do. He slung his partially-ripped backpack over his shoulder and walked to class, wondering if he would miss being shoved in his locker every day.
​

ʏᴇᴀʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ
​

"Agent Mothman." Agent Darkbootie spoke loudly, talking among the other chattering folk within the group conversation.

"...Yes?" Dib asked slowly.

It had been years since Dib was first inducted into The Swollen Eyeball, and within that time Dib was ridiculed, made fun of, mistreated, alienated, and outcasted.

"You're getting a promotion." The group worked in mysterious ways, and that's all Darkbootie said on the matter, and Dib said nothing, aswell. Not because he didn't care, but because he felt it was professional to stay silent.
​

ʏᴇᴀʀ sɪx
​

Dib walked down the gymnasium with his cap and gown hanging from him. He had a record year of growth spirts, and the garment didn't even bother to cover a good portion of his legs. He was lucky that he was wearing skinny black jeans under his gown, or else he'd look like weird.

But he didn't look like a weirdo. He looked like the rest of his peers, and it was kind of gross.

He had hated the uniformity of Highschool, and he was glad to say goodbye to that hellhole. He walked up the stairs and meet a man atop a platform who gave him his diploma and shook his hand. Dib had survived officially Highschool.

His father hadn't bothered to go to the graduation ceremony because of his work, and Dib didn't invite Gaz for... obvious reasons. He had no one to wait up for, so he felt. Dib walked off the side of the platform and walked out of the gym. Once the heavy steel doors behind him shut, he tore off his gown and tossed it in the trash.

Dib walked slowly to the locker that he had outgrown and opened it up quickly. He had emptied it days before, but he left some stuff for after the ceremony. He grabbed his black trench-coat, felt comfortable with it draped around his slender frame. Dib closed his locker and walked out of the high school happily. He made his way to the front exit and did what he had always wanted to do.

He kicked the doors open with his foot, and he walked out like the total and complete badass that he was. He tucked his thin fingers into the pockets of his coat, and made his way to the old junker he called a car. Dib had fixed it up himself, with the help of his father. He knew it was his car because it was an ugly purple color, and it had stickers all about the bunper and back windshield that said, "GHOST HUNTING PERMIT 2016-2017", "I WANT TO BELIEVE", "PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR" and all the like. He opened the front door of the car, and threw his diploma in the back. Dib hopped into the front seat, and closed the door.

He looked in the driver's mirror, and paused. He had grown a lot since he was just a kid. Dib took a hand and felt his face. He had grown into his head shape, that was for sure. But... Dib had to admit, he did still have a pretty big head. Dib turned on the car, and drove silently to his house.

At home, it was just like any other day. He locked his car, went inside, locked the front door, and hid himself in his room. Dib had no idea of the package that was waiting for him.
​

 

[Mira-Charma13]

GIR was loyal to Zim. Loyal to a fault, actually. He would do just about anything for his old master if he was asked. But, just like Zim, the tiny SIR unit had his own unique faults. He was an outdated model and didn't possess a proper mechanical brain. Zim had done all he possibly could to fix his old servant, but every time he tried to introduce a proper brain, one that worked well, the sweet and friendly disposition GIR was famous for seemed to disappear. And Zim always backed down whenever that happened.

GIR meant much more to him than he let on. He was like the family he never had. To Zim, GIR's personality was more important than his usefulness as a minion.

Loyal as the diminutive robot was, however, he was still easily distracted and often lost his way when he traveled on his own. As such it took him an age and a half to reach his intended destination. He stopped several times along the way to, among other things, pet a stray kitten, order a hot dog from a street cart, and take a walk through a local park. He even got to see a man proposing to a woman i that park, which was just so sweet! As he trooped his way through the park, still munching on the hot dog he'd purchased, he couldn't help but think that he'd forgotten something...

"...Ohhh."

GIR glanced down, false ears flopping, at the letter attached to his fake collar. The letters D-I-B were scrawled in very messy handwriting. The letters seemed oddly rough and curled, looking quite a bit like a Microsoft Word font in the process. That handwriting was also incredibly distinctive, carrying on into the letter itself. GIR fondly remembered watching his master write that letter, muttering the words to himself as he hunched over his desk.

'To the Dib,

Remember me? Remember Zim? I have returned, but only for a short time. If possible, I would like to meet with you. There is something of the utmost importance that I must ask of you. Should you wish to come, you must come unarmed and with no manner of video or audio recording devices. GIR will only lead you to my location after he checks thoroughly for these things. I cannot be seen by the other human monsters. You'll soon learn why. Decide whether you want to come or not quickly, earth beast. Zim is a busy Irken.

ZIM'
​

"My master is counting on me!" GIR tossed what was left of his hot dog in the nearest trash bin and quickly bolted off. Now that he was focused on his mission, he was able to reach Dib's house in no time flat. He still recognized it, even after all of these years! It stood out from the other houses. Humming a little ditty to himself, GIR tried the door first. He knocked three times and waited, arms folded expectantly behind his back. When no one answered he took a few steps back. Slowly, gradually, he used the rockets in his feet to hover off of the ground and all the way up to the window he knew belonged to Dib. He knocked there instead, his fake tail wagging cheerfully.​

 

[Dip]

Dib walked up the stairs to his bedroom and closed his door tightly, automatic locks keeping him in place. Dib sighed and flopped onto his bed. He looked at the ceiling and wondered faintly what he was going to do now. Dib paused. What was he going to do now? Dib sat up in his bed, and looked around his room. He had signed up for community college in the fall, but that was months away.

Dib rubbed his eyes, hands crawling under his glasses. He didn't want to go to college. He knew he was far too smart to continue his education, but he had to earn a piece of paper that said he could perform arbitrary tasks. Dib took off his trench coat and walked over to his computer. He sat down in front of the blank screen, and booted it up quickly. Maybe there was a new abandoned house he could investigate? Maybe a strange occurrence that needed solving? Anything?

Dib kicked his feet onto his desk, and used his hand to move the mouse about the screen. He sighed, and just sat in front of his computer. Dib had made his computer from the bottom up, but that was years ago. He never bothered to update anything from it, and opted to keep it old and prehistoric. It ran relatively fast for something so old, but it was still slower compared to his laptop.

Dib sighed, and saw a reflection of himself in the computer monitor. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, moving it from an area of hair to an area of stubble. He hadn't changed his hairstyle much within the years, the biggest change was the amount. Dib had let his hair grow longer just slightly, getting thicker in some places. He picked the lint from his iconic blue t-shirt, and watched it fall to the ground. He turned back to his loading computer screen, and looked over himself once more.

At least he did, before he heard the knocking coming from his window. He turned, eyebrows knitted tightly together, and sat ridged.

It was...

"GIR?"

Dib started slowly, unsure if he was hallucinating, dreaming, or.... if the alien technology was really there with him. Dib stood slowly, his eyes unmoving from the other. Dib shuffled to the window and accidently kicked over a small trash can. Dib reached one hand down, and grabbed ahold of the small can, and used his other hand to press against the glass. Was that really GIR? Or was it just... another green, hovering dog? Dib opened his window with one hand slowly, and felt his stomach drop. His hand began shaking, and he felt like a deer in the headlights.

In one quick motion, Dib grabbed the dog by it's ear and dragged it inside his room. YEP, THAT WAS GIR. Dib felt a mixture of anxiety and illation. Once the robot was inside his room, Dib tackled the SIR unit to the ground, covering it pathetically with a trashcan, like one would do to catch a stray kitten.

Dib had no idea what he was doing.

Dib had created elaborate alien catching devices all of his childhood, and now the young adult had just tackled a robot to the ground with nothing but a trash can.

"...WHY ARE YOU HERE?" Dib screamed involuntarily. "I-I mean-- erh, why are you here?" Dib asked, in a more confident tone. He felt like a child once more.

 

[Mira-Charma13]

As was typical of GIR he waved happily at the human when he spoke his name. Apparently, he was just tickled to see Dib again! He did scream bloody murder in that semi-mechanical voice of his when his floppy fake ear was snagged and he was ungracefully yanked into the earth creature's personal space, but he immediately began to giggle after he was tackled and covered with a trash can. Some shuffling sounds indicated that he was standing up underneath the trash can, and those were followed by a familiar series of three knocks against the side of it.

"Are we gonna play hide and seek?" GIR's voice, muffled and echoed thanks to the trash can, sounded rather excited about that prospect. "It's dark in here! I can't see! Lemme fix that!"

Without warning, the trash can suddenly lifted...along with Dib. GIR lifted it clean off of him with Dib still on top of it--with one arm, to boot! That tiny robot sure had a lot of strength on his side.

A massive grin stretched across his disguised face when he caught sight of Dib again. "Hello again, big-headed boy!" Still utilizing only one arm, GIR shuffled out from underneath the trash can and carefully deposited it and Dib safely back onto the ground. "Hmm..." He squinted at Dib, scratching his chin with one hand. "You got a lot taller!" His whole face brightened as he said this, like he was giving the other a very generous compliment. "And your head fur is longer! But you're still you! Got the same face and the same head and the same optics and the same big black coat thing! Uh-huh! That's how I know it's you!"

A little pink tongue poked out from the mouth of the lime green puppy costume. "Well...hmm...I was supposed to do something. Now what was that again?" He squinted and tilted his head to the left, apparently deep in thought. His short term memory wasn't the most impressive of things. "Buy tacos? Nooo...not supposed to do that till I do the mission thing. But what was the mission thing? I can't remember!"

GIR stomped one of his little feet out of frustration. The harsh movement finally dislodged the previously forgotten letter from his collar. The little SIR watched with apparently rapt interest as it gently fluttered through the air and eventually landed, light as a feather, on the floor. He stared at it for several long seconds before gasping and pointing wildly at it.

"That's it!" he screeched triumphantly. "I was supposed ta give that to the big-headed boy!" He rapidly made a dive for the letter, snatching it up in the blink of an eye. Fussily, the small robot brushed the letter off before extending his arm and offering it to Dib with the sweetest of smiles. "It's from my master! You remember my master, right? You remember me! And I'm so happy to hear that!"

Even when Zim was still on Earth, GIR never shared the same resentment toward Dib that his master did. He constantly declared that he thought Dib was a nice person, though he did speak up whenever he was mean to his master. He also repeatedly suggested to Zim that he and Dib were actually friends deep down, which Zim always denied. He seemed to like Dib and was never outwardly unpleasant to him. Then again, he was like that with just about everyone. That little SIR didn't have a bad gear in his body.

 

[Dip]

Dib sat covering the trash can as best as he could. At least he did before he was lifted up into the air by the small SIR unit. He wasn't expecting to be set down so gently but he was glad that the robot was so careful and considerate. Dib was until he realized what was happening right in front of his own eyes. Right in his own room!

GIR was in front of him.

GIR was right in front of him.

That meant... Zim was here. Or he was somewhere on Earth.

Anger slowly rose inside of Dib's being when he heard thought about Zim. Zim had left without a trace six years previous, and Dib had still been suffering the repercussions of his actions. People still asks if he thought that 'foreign exchange student' was still an alien. They asked so many questions about Zim when Dib tried his best to forget every single detail of Zim.

And it had worked for the most part! He had forgotten the Irken's voice first, and then his height, and soon, he forgot a good chunk of his appearance altogether. But it was his personality, his temperament, his attitude that still stuck with Dib. The human boy listened with shock and amazement at the impressive piece of Irken technology and watched him stumble over his words as he figured out why he was on Earth.

Dib wanted to interject and ask, but he was cut off every single time he opened his mouth. The alien companion talked of his height, his head, his hair, tacos, and talked of the mission.

It felt like the entire world was silent when the piece of paper fluttered to the ground like a feather falling from a beautiful bird. The robot screeched and claimed that the letter was for Dib. From Zim? Dib took the piece of paper and danced about the page with wide eyes. The handwriting... The wording... It was all Zim. Dib read silently to himself, his mouth forming the words soundlessly.
​

"To the Dib,

Remember me? Remember Zim? I have returned, but only for a short time. If possible, I would like to meet with you. There is something of the utmost importance that I must ask of you. Should you wish to come, you must come unarmed and with no manner of video or audio recording devices. GIR will only lead you to my location after he checks thoroughly for these things. I cannot be seen by the other human monsters. You'll soon learn why. Decide whether you want to come or not quickly, earth beast. Zim is a busy Irken.

ZIM'​

Dib read it once. Twice. Six times.

Dib looked away from the paper, and looked at the wall infront of him as he thought deeply. Utmost importance... You'll soon learn why... Zim is busy...

Zim.
Dib folded up the note and tucked it into his pocket as he stood up from his sitting position quickly. Dib soon ran about the room. No audio or video recording devices? Well, he never mentioned anything about photographs. Dib grabbed the backpack he had emptied when schooled ended and began filling it when things he felt important to take. "I'm taking a few things," Dib said to the Irken software. "No audio or video recordings. I swear. Just... important human things."

Dib filled his backpack with notebooks, pens, pencils, an old polaroid camera, film, his wallet, laptop, chargers, cellphone, and anything else he could grab within an arms length-- random mechanical debris and tools mostly, but he also grabbed... a small Swiss-Army Pocket-Knife.

It had been six years. Who knew what that alien was to be up to? That was the first thing that Dib had thought to grab at all, and he slipped it deep into the pocket of his pants. What was this serious talk about? What was of 'the utmost importance' that Zim had to traverse six months to Earth? What if he was going to hurt Dib?

Dib had learned the hard way to care about his well-being. He learned to put himself before others. He learned that he was the most important human in his life, and humanity didn't appreciate anything he had tried to do. It was hard turning his back on humanity, becuase he used to love humans so much. But now, Dib cared more about the company and affairs of ghosts than of living people.

Dib, after a very short and manic packing spree, turned to the robot, and thought gently. The dog-thing was very... distracted. All the time. He had known this the entire time that he had feuded with Zim, and he was sure that Zim would leave without his robot if he had the chance.

Dib wondered faintly in he should take his car and drive... but he loved his car. Dib placed the backpack on the floor, and moved some items around the bag to make room for the alien device. "Here," Dib said. "Sit in here. It's like... a piggy-back ride. You tell me the way to get there, and we get there!"

 

[Mira-Charma13]

Curious as ever, GIR craned his neck as Dib began bustling about the room and shoveling a variety of items into a backpack. "Okey-dokey! You gonna take any snacks? I'm hungry! Master won't let me get any tacos till I...um...wait a minute..." His tongue slowly poked itself out of his mouth. "What was I supposed ta do again? I forget!"

Cheerful, maniacal laughter followed the last two statements and GIR bounced up and down, his hands covering his face as if he was embarrassed. It was a miracle in itself that GIR managed to get anything done at all.

While Dib hurried around the room it seemed as if GIR was only slightly paying attention to him, against his master's wishes, and focusing on doing a happy little jig instead. In the back of his mind he did notice the human grabbing a camera and a weapon, but the danger factor simply didn't resonate with him. Zim could handle himself, after all! The 'no weapons or video or audio recording devices' was just a request, and one Zim was already certain that Dib wouldn't honor completely. They were old enemies. He sincerely doubted the human would trust him, at least not right away.

He had plenty of reasons to be wary, as well. Zim didn't have the best track record when it came to being honest and trustworthy, especially when it came to Dib. GIR was useful in this sense. He was typically honest to a fault and would often ruin any deception his master tried his hand at without really meaning to. Dib would do well to keep a close eye and ear on the tiny SIR unit.

When Dib addressed him again, GIR stopped dancing in a flash and turned to face him. He stood on his tip-toes to peer nosily into the bag. It certainly looked comfy, and a piggyback ride sounded just delightful! As he was about to gleefully hop into the bag he suddenly paused, squinting in an almost suspicious manner. While Zim had failed to replace his defective brain with a new one, he had managed to tweak him so that he wasn't quite as stupid. He was still pretty stupid, though.

"You don't got any weapon things or picture things or recording things, do ya?" GIR wound his little arms around his back. "'Cause my master doesn't want you to bring stuff like that! He said, uh...lemme see..." The small robot fell silent. He was silent for what seemed like an eternity, staring hard at the floor.

Unexpectedly, he stood rigid and light bled through the false eyes of the dog suit--piercing crimson light. When he spoke again his voice had changed, becoming much deeper, more mechanical, and much more authoritative.

"The master has risked his life and the safety of our glorious Empire merely to get in contact with you!" He sure sounded like he meant business. "The master went against the wishes of his people and wasted six months of his valuable time to reach your planet! The master is putting himself in grave danger just by gracing the surface of your planet with his presence! He cannot afford to be spotted by any member of humankind or he runs the risk of being captured! Should that happen, the millions-strong Irken Armada will rain fiery death down upon your planet and destroy any and all traces of life! The master has no say in this matter, for his people have vowed to destroy this planet if he does not return in twenty four hours' time, but that is an outcome he does not wish to see come to fruition! So he strongly suggests that you honor his request!"

Just as quickly as the light and the vastly different attitude came they were both gone and GIR was back to his ordinary cheerful self. "Yaaaaay! I remembered all of that! I'm so proud of me!" Without giving any more protest the diminutive robot hopped right into Dib's backpack. "When you go out take a left and keep goin' till I tell ya to turn! I'll take you to my master! He's been waiting long enough!"

 

[Dip]

Dip watched in silent horror as the strange Mexican-Food powered robot spoke, seemingly in another language. He was absolutely sure he was going to die, but... he didn't. The robot said nothing else, or even go through the backpack for the 'throughout check' that Zim had threatened. The human was hit with a wave of nostalgia as he remembered all of the empty vows that Zim had promised that GIR would deliver.

Though every phrase that GIR had spoken made Dib fearful of his life, there was one phrase that really stood out to him. He replayed the message back to himself, and thought deeply. "The master has risked his life and the safety of our glorious Empire merely to get in contact with you!"

The safety of our glorious Empire? Wishes of his people? Dib had spent a vast number of months studying the Irken culture, and he had tried his best to remember what he could from all those years before... Zim was just an invader... he didn't have people, right? The only things invaders did for their Empires was colonize and expand, right? What did returning back to Earth jeopardize? He had abandoned his mission in the first place! What safety did Zim really risk?

Dib shook his head, and zipped the little robot into his backpack until just the green head was sticking out. A true paranormal investigator never left home without his backpack. The human walked out of his room, locked the door behind himself, and raced down the stairs. He had no clue where his kid-sister Gaz had gone, but he was sure that he didn't care in the slightest. Dib thought about what the robot had said before about bringing a snack, and wondered if it was a smart idea.

A sandwich wouldn't hurt, right? Zim traveled six months. Surely six extra seconds wouldn't kill him. Dib walked quickly into the kitchen and opened the fridge, and pulled out a cellophane-wrapped sandwich that had 'DAD' written in big-bold letters. Dib tucked the sandwich into his trench-coat pocket, and walked out the door.

Dib took a left, and braced himself for what he would come to face.

 

[Mira-Charma13]

If there was one thing that could be said for certain about GIR after all of his tweaking, save for that he was always friendly and cheerful, it was that he had an impeccable sense of direction when he was actually trying to focus on where he was going. He piped up cheerfully whenever Dib needed to make a turn, but chose to motion with an arm and make meowing sounds instead whenever there were other humans within earshot. Fairly intelligent for a not-so-intelligent robot.

His directions wound through the outskirts of the city and straight through a bustling part of the downtown area. GIR was, for the most part, focused on the mission his master had given him now that he had Dib in tow...but, as always, he did manage to get distracted more than once.

He demanded that Dib stop several times so that he could pet stray animals. He also stopped to bolt into what looked like a music store and returned moments later with a couple of CD albums. More than once, after passing a food truck or stand, he got so distracted by the sights of smells of the food that he stopped giving directions altogether. The last time he got distracted he started giving directions to the nearest fast food joint instead, but quickly corrected himself after thoughts of his impatient master drifted through his head.

All this time, he made a point of being incredibly friendly toward Dib. He even called him by his name shortly after the fast food joint incident.

After what felt like a grueling couple of hours GIR's haphazard directions finally led the pair out of the city and off onto a side road. GIR motioned for Dib to take a right about a mile down the road...straight into the woods. "That-a-way! Master's back in there. Pretty deep back there." He craned his little neck. "Back behind some big scary trees! Got a ship waitin'. It's all see-through right now so, um...he doesn't get noticed. But it'll get visible again right away once he sees us!" A massive grin stretched across his face. "I'm gonna give him a big old hug! And this nifty present I got him!"

He shook the bag containing the CDs excitedly. Apparently, Zim liked...Earth music? Or maybe GIR just wanted to get him a present and grabbed the first thing he could think of...because Zim liking anything from Earth sounded far-fetched at best.

 

[Dip]

The entire fiasco was horrendous, but it resulted in a few things happening:

1) Dib had a new grasp on why he hated walking.
2) He wished he had taken his car.
3) He had an XXL slushee when they had walked to the food shop, and he was glad that the detours took so long so he could properly finish the drink before meeting his impending doom.
​

Once Dib had walked out of the city, he saw the large forest he was faced with. He remembered this place... He had been here many times before, fighting with the Irken people on many different fronts. He had looked for ghosts, bigfoot, thunderbirds, and many more cryptids within those woods, and he was relatively confident in bracing the unknown.

But for some reason... This felt different. This wasn't the unknown he was used to. He was used to Earthly unknowns, not UnEarthly unknowns. If someone were to ask him years before, he would have attacked the change without a moment of hesitation, but... It had been so long. Dib had focused on Mothmen, Mole-People, not Otherworldly Beings. To be honest, Dib hadn't focused at all on aliens when Zim had left. If he was assigned anything within The Swollen Eyeball that had to do with space, he would deny it entirely.

Dib tightened his grip on the backpack, and took a step forward. Just go straight, he told himself. It's just the woods. You've done this before. This is child's play. This is so easy, a normal person could do it! Dib continued to give himself pep talk as he walked slowly into the forest. He picked up speed as he felt the darkness surrounding him.

Wasn't it day-time when he had entered the forest? What time was it? Why were the trees so tall... Had they gotten taller, or had Dib shrunk down to the size of a 12-year-old again, fearing nothing more than trees and wood? The woods are just trees, He told himself, the trees are just wood. Dib sighed, and kept his large head held up high.

For what seemed like hours, Dib walked. During that time he had talked himself into seeing Zim, talked himself out of seeing Zim, talked himself into ditching the backpack and leaving, talked himself in going the opposite direction, and he even talked himself through mock conversation! He was preparing for all kinds of meetings with the alien, and he was nervous as all hell.

What if Zim had an army? An Armada? A Platoon? What if Zim had weapons, and Dib only had his knife? The young man wished he had brought REMI along, wondering if his amazing technology would have protected him here. Dib shook his head, and tried talking some sense into himself.

Dib was a Paranormal Investigator! He was basically the head leader of The Swollen Eyeball Network! He wasn't just Agent anymore, he was THE Agent! He had tackled more cases than anyone in that group combined. He was dedicated to his detective work. He was a skilled inventor! He fixed a space-ship when he was 12! Whatever Zim had to throw at him, Dib knew he could handle it.

Dib felt a thrill of adrenaline run through him. He was Dib Mother-Fucking Membrane, Boy Genious! Agent Mothman, Private Swollen Eye!! He was going to defend himself, and only himself. He was ready to come face-to-face with this alien if it was the last thing Dib would do.​

 

[Mira-Charma13]

For a while GIR was silent while the pair of them trekked through the woods, though his head constantly swiveled about as he watched birds, squirrels, rabbits, and other cute woodland creatures scurry about. It was only when the silence dragged on and he could physically feel the human stiffening and becoming uncomfortable through the fabric of his backpack that the tiny robot finally noticed that something was off about the human.

"You doin' okay?" He leaned forward ever so slightly in his comfy seat to meet Dib's gaze. "You're all tense and stuff. You're not sick, are you? 'Cause then master would have to decontaminate you before you meet him. And that's not pretty!" GIR shuddered with unrestrained fear, apparently recalling a bad experience with this 'decontamination' process. "Don't ever wanna do that again!"

GIR's attention was briefly snagged by a robin flying overhead, chirping up a storm. He settled back down into his seat, whistling a merry tune to himself. "Hey, big-headed boy. Can you do me one eensy-weensy favor?" A surprisingly solemn expression crept its way onto his poorly-disguised face. "Fix my master for me. Okay? 'Cause he's all broken and stuff. And it's kinda sad."

He was lucky that Zim wasn't around to hear him say that, or he'd end up getting slapped upside the head again.

The SIR unit didn't elaborate on that and instead stopped talking altogether, staring forward expectantly as the human continued walking. It was only after a line of massive and thick pine trees appeared in the distance that GIR craned his neck, those false ears standing straight up. "Ooh! That way, that way!" He shrieked in an over-the-top loud voice. "Over there!"

Just as his noisy, shrill voice disturbed the silence and sent a flock of geese careening into the air from a nearby tree, another peculiar sound joined it. It sounded, amusingly enough, like a cheap ray gun effect in some horrible sci-fi flick. A flash also glinted from behind those impressive pine trees.

Just beyond that long row of trees, which towered over most of the other trees in the area, was the ship GIR must have been talking about. It was massive, taking up an entire clearing, and was just barely hidden by the smaller trees on the other side of the aforementioned clearing. Much larger than the compact ship Zim had in tow all those years ago, it bore the Irken insignia on both of its side panels. This ship looked like it could easily house twenty to thirty small creatures. A side panel was open and a sturdy purple-hued metal ramp stretched from the open panel to the soft ground it was impaled in.

GIR squealed and stood up in Dib's backpack. He took a running leap right over the human's head, fell flat on his face on the ground, and immediately jumped to his feet, racing up the ramp. He stood at the top, jumping up and down. "This waaaaay! Over here!" He graciously shuffled to the side, smiling sweetly at Dib, and motioned with one arm to the right. "Go that-a-way and keep goin' straight. But don't touch anything or my master'll get all mad again!"

 

[Dip]

Dib jumped as the robot mentioned his tension. Dib was tense, wasn't he? What had gotten into him? His personal pep-talk had done nothing for his nerves. He was the worst cheerleader ever. "No, no... I'm not sick. Just... I dunno. Not sick." Dib confirmed before they were silent again. Then, the green-clad creature said something that really made Dib... well, not so tense anymore.

"Fix my master for me. Okay? 'Cause he's all broken and stuff. And it's kinda sad."

Fix his master? What on Earth did this robot mean? What could be broken about a living-breathing alien? Dib thought about this request for a long time, before his attention was torn from him with a loud, shrill scream from the robot. Dib looked over his shoulder at the robot, and went 'that way, over there'. Dib broke into a slight jog, running towards the impressive pines.

Dip looked above him as the geese honked at the sound of GIR's screaming, and wondered why on Earth he had thought this was a good idea. He had the feeling that... something wasn't entirely Human about this situation. When he heard the sound of... hell, he didn't know what the sound was! He likened it to the sound of a life-sized laser-pointer, with a shrill alarm for a voice. Dib stopped dead in his tracks at this sound, and took a moment to look around.

He was lost. Entirely lost, and now there was no way he was able to go back.

Dib's eyes widened as the flash of brilliant light hit his face like an angry slap. Dib slowly walked towards the trees, like he was trying his damnedest not to set off a boobie-trap, or fall into an endless pit. Dib pushed himself through the trees slowly, and found himself at the sources of the light.

Dib took one look at the mothership and feel flat on his ass.

That thing was huge. It was bigger than huge-- it was bigger than life-- it was bigger than, dare I say it, Dib's head. Dib wanted to touch the beautiful craft, but he felt like that was somehow wrong. He felt that if he reached out to grab it, it would bite back, and destroy him. Dib slowly stood up, and he felt the weight from his back lessen.

Dib watched as the SIR unit walked in without any hesitation, and Dib wondered how that was possible. If this had been Zim's old compact rover, this would be no sweat, but this... This was something that Zim was not capable of. Dib began to question everything about this sitation: Was Zim powerful now? How did Zim get a ship like this? Was Zim actually successful? What was in there?

Dib was pulled from his internal monolog when GIR squealed at him. Dib took a slow step forward, but soon began a walking pace. The purple ramp felt cold and unwelcoming under his canvas shoes, and he felt more like a hitch-hiker than a welcomed guest. All the nostalgia of his childhood had vanished, and Dib was making his own memories now. Dib entered the cold airship, and turned right.

Dib was a stranger in a strange new place. A stranger... with the overwhelming desire to touch everything.

 

[Mira-Charma13]

Predictably, GIR giggled like a little schoolgirl when Dib fell over. He waited expectantly for him at the very top of the ramp, humming what sounded like a human nursery rhyme to himself to pass the time. Once Dib surpassed him and entered the ship, taking that aforementioned right, the tiny robot ducked between his feet to put himself ahead of the human. He moved at an impressively quick pace for one so short in the leg, so much so that he would probably outpace a normal human in a sprinting match!

The hallway was drab and devoid of decorations. Even though walls sported an intense magenta color, the space still felt sterile. Not lived in. Much like a hospital, or even a laboratory. Several doorways branched off into different areas, only one of which was visible thanks to the lack of a door--and it looked disturbingly like a school or even a jail cafeteria. The hallway ended with an insanely tall archway, much taller than some of the other doorways.

Beyond the hallway was a domed room; judging by the look of it and the items that filled it, it was most likely the bridge of the ship. It was two stories. The second story was small and narrow with two archways leading into other second story rooms or hallways. A railing separated it from the first floor, and kept the long row of computers and other equipment from taking a tumble. The first floor was rounded and littered with similar equipment. Lots of button, levers, knobs, and flashing lights. Beyond those consoles was a wide windshield, which currently boasted a scintillating view of the forest scenery outside.

But the most distinctive feature of the room wasn't truly a feature at all.

Right behind the windshield and in front of the various consoles was a raised circular platform, and standing on that platform was a disturbingly skeletal creature, standing at about six feet, three inches tall. His back faced the archway. His skin was a lovely shade of jade green, and though he lacked any hair on his head two long and thick bug-like antennae stood in their place. He lacked ears. A distinctive backpack-esque item stuck out on his back--silver with light pink panels. His attire was strange, yet form-fitting. A smooth chest plate and two plain shoulder pads covered his upper half, along with two gauntlets that covered his hands but not his fingers. A strange black object that resembled a corset covered the majority of his torso. His body seemed exceptionally thin there. The corset tapered off into an elegant flowing skirt, which covered him all the way down to where his ankles ended and his boot-covered feet began. It boasted a darker pink and black color scheme.

GIR bolted toward the figure without so much as a shred of hesitation. "Hiya, master! I'm back! I've got your human! And I've got...stuff!" He tottered his way in front of the figure, happily shaking the bag around.

"Stuff?"

If the figure wasn't distinctive, the voice definitely was.

"Oh, yeah! Great stuff! Some of that music you like so much!" The figure grumbled and shooed GIR away--the little SIR happily took a seat at one of the consoles, intending to wait until his master was free.

The figure slowly turned to face the archway, revealing a perfectly smooth face without a nose. Huge magenta eyes locked with those of the human.

"Hello, Dib-human." Zim spoke as calmly and evenly as he could. The last thing he wanted was for this encounter to turn violent or even unfriendly. "It's been some time."

 

[Dip]

Dib followed the robot and absorbed all he could. Dib was... amazed. Astonished. Words couldn't describe it. He felt like he was in a science-fiction novel, but... this was far from fiction. Dib poked his head through all the doorways, wanting nothing more than to just get lost within the strange ship. As his curiosity piqued, so did his fear.

What kind of secrets was aboard this ship? What kind of strange, inhuman diseases would Dib get from touching any of the walls-- or even just walking aboard the craft? What kind of things would happen to Dib? Was this a trick, to ensnare Dib for some kind of crazy-sick testing? Was he being kidnapped against his will?

Dib followed the SIR unit near the archway, and decided to set his backpack down. Dib slowly, cautiously placed his bag against the side of the insanely clean wall, and followed the green dog through the tall archway. Dib wondered faintly why something so tall was needed for an alien being so very short. The human recalled quite fondly size of the Irken invader, and how they had seemed to match heights not too long ago. Well, that was a lie, because it was all too long ago. Six years, and over two-feet later, Dib stood at an impressive six feet even!

Dib crossed the threshold, and took a moment to take everything in. Everything was so... fictiously factual. Dib had seen alien technology, but nothing like this. If he had known that something like this was hiding in the galaxy, he wouldn't have stopped after his first contact with the outside world was gone! Dib felt the years of missing passion suddenly hit him. DIB WANTED TO TOUCH EVERYTHING. He wanted to see how every little thing worked. He wanted to press all the buttons, and find all the ways that one could mess with the ship. Dib turned to face the windshield, and he was faced with something that was entirely not of this world.

Dib looked over the being and thought that the word 'alien' was entirely befitting. Even the backside of the creature was something that Dib had never dreamed of. He saw the strikingly familiar antennae and the smooth green skin, and concluded that this was indeed an Irken, but... Irkens didn't look like that. He knew Tak, and Tak looked nothing like that... thing! He had seen Zim, and sure as hell, that wasn't Zim--


"Stuff?"

Holy shit. Dib watched from the floor as the strange Irken, with a very annoying voice talked to his unit, and he slowly watched the figure turn. Dib's insides churned and boiled, and he felt like he was going to throw up on the perfectly cleaned floor. Dib looked over every feature of the alien, and recalled all of the features he had remembered. Zim looked more... insect like. He actually looked... terrifying. Particularly the eyes, which seemed to match everything on the ship--

Wait... was this Zim's ship?

The alien recalled the time, and Dib... had to agree. He wanted to mention how it had been six years almost exactly. He wanted to tell him that his name wasn't Dib-human, just Dib. He wanted to ask about everything. He wanted to ask him why he left. Dib wanted to ask what was broken about him. He was overwhelmed and understimulated. He was calm and composed on the outside, but riding one hell of an emotional roller coaster.

"Zim." Dib started. The name felt foreign in his mouth but he still spoke it with the same disdain and indignation of his old self. He was sure that Dib's own name in the mouth of the alien was no welcoming sensation either.

"Six years."

 

[Mira-Charma13]

"Six Earth years," Zim corrected almost instantly, folding his thin arms behind his back. "Less than one Irk year." He paused for a brief moment and peered over his shoulder through the windshield. "Computer! Reactivate the ship's cloaking mechanism! I don't want any Earth beasts catching sight of it!" "What? Come on!" This voice echoed throughout the bridge. Also familiar, it was deep and sounded terribly bored at all times. "You just made me deactivate it like five seconds ago!" One of Zim's antennae perked. "So? Activate it again!" The heavily mechanical voice groaned in protest, but that same high-pitched squealing sound indicated that the ship's cloaking was once again in place.

Now feeling marginally safer Zim turned to face his old nemesis again, meeting his eyes without a hint of reluctance. "You got my letter, yes?" he asked, sounding only mildly hopeful. "I did task GIR with delivering it, so I wasn't entirely sure it would reach its intended destination." GIR pouted like an irritable toddler from his seat, but Zim paid it no mind. "I had no choice in the matter," Zim continued, standing his ground yet making no moves to close the distance between himself and Dib--as far as he knew, their relationship was still a hostile one. "As you can no doubt see..."

He glanced downward at his gaunt frame. "Zim's body shape no longer even remotely resembles that of a human in the torso area. So...he cannot be seen by Earth monsters without alarming them." If Zim were indeed a human, his body would be sickeningly thin by Earth standards. Enough so to catch the attention of medical professionals, perhaps. If he were taken to a hospital or something similar against his will, his true identity would easily be discovered--especially if tests were conducted to see if he was actually ill or suffering from some manner of eating disorder.

"...So..." Zim finally moved, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. His sharp gaze swept up and down the human's body, scrutinizing his every feature. "...You're taller." A familiar smirk curled his lips. "Not as tall as Zim, of course!" He squinted one of his massive eyes. "Older, certainly. Your ilk age faster than my vastly superior race, especially on the outside." Shades of the old Zim cropped up with those statements!

But just as quickly as the old Zim showed his face, that same uncharacteristic calmness overtook him. "You're angry with Zim." It wasn't a question. "Not on the outside, but on the inside. Is it because I abandoned our unfinished battle without warning?" Internally, the Irken monarch winced. "Zim did indeed leave without warning...but not without reason. He will get to that momentarily, if the situation is favorable. But first..."

He brought his hands back toward his front and clasped his long, spidery fingers together. "Allow me to congratulate you on reaching human adulthood. Eighteen Earth years makes an adult human monster, yes? I may have missed your Hatching Day, or Birthing Day, or whatever you dirt creatures call it, but congratulations are in order anyway. You survived!"

Zim fell silent for a bit and stole a glance at his metallic servant. GIR was sitting on the literal edge of his seat, looking positively ecstatic. When Zim looked his way he gave him an encouraging double thumbs up. Zim scowled at him in response, his antennae plastering themselves against his head with annoyance, and turned his attention back to Dib.

"I...ehh..." The intimidating alien monster shuffled his feet against the metal floor. He seemed almost...shy. "Zim is not here to destroy or conquer your planet. Nope. Nada. Got no reason to. No, Zim has returned for a very different reason. A personal reason."

His magenta eyes refocused, gazing into the human's eyes with a burning intensity. "But before I elaborate further and reveal this reason...I want to know if you're willing to play nice and put our differences aside for the time being. Because if you aren't, Zim will be taking his leave shortly. Time is of the essence and I have no intention of wasting it if you aren't willing to be a good Dib-thing. I have things to attend to--such glorious things!"

 

[Dip]

Dib noted the lack of empathy and emotion that was famous for the Irken's race. Time meant nothing to them because comparatively, they were immortal. Dib watched as Zim ordered about his-- his computer. Not his old one that Dib had managed to disable and enable at a moments notice, not the one inside that old laboratory that paraded around as a house. This one seemed.. actually, kind of advanced-looking. This one was something that Dib hadn't seen come from an Irken before. Not even Tak had a ship like this!

Dib, when asked about the letter, tucked his hand into the pocket of his trench coat to feel for it. He still remembered a certain phrase that he had read hours ago: "There is something of the utmost importance that I must ask of you." Utmost importance... Dib threw that phrase around lightly, giving everything importance when it was not needed whatsoever. Dib looked over the creature before him and had decided that his new form was... less human, for lack of better terms.

Dib had wondered why he hadn't thought about Zim coming to get him instead of GIR. Maybe it was because Dib wasn't in the right headspace, and he let his excitement get the better of him. He wasn't cautious, he wasn't careful, and he wasn't safe. What would the members of the network think? Dib felt embarrassed as he thought about all of the possible dangers that he had completely gotten himself into. Why didn't he take better precautions?

Well, in his defense, it had been a while since he had come in contact with otherworldly creatures. He didn't have to worry about strange and mysterious illnesses with Bigfoot. He didn't have to wonder about a dangerous plot when he researched Ghosts. This was just... different for him, he guessed. Zim continued to talk absentmindedly, and... it reminded Dib of the old alien. The less tall, easily angered, less alien-looking alien he had grown to hate. Dib tried to stifle a smirk. He wanted to reply, rebuttal, argue, and bicker with the being like he had years before.

But this wasn't Zim. Zim wasn't actually capable of anything like this, right? He could hardly conduct a mission, let alone pilot an entire enterprise! "I'm not mad." Dib said. That was partly true. It was a deeper, stranger feeling than anger. He felt interrupted mostly. "Just... not mad." This thing had come into his life, promised so much opportunity for the human boy, and left, making him look insane. While the alien wasn't obligated to be caught and tested on and exploited, Dib had wished that he had some photographic evidence.

Dib thought instantly about his bad, and how he could easily snap a shot and book it the hell out of there. He wanted to more than anything, to escape this strange conversation that Dib had somehow willingly invited himself into, but he realized that he had set his bag down in a fit of bewilderment and confusion. Dib instantly blamed Zim for that. At least he knew where it was, and could easily run to it.

Zim soon began congratulating Dib for living, and Dib could care less. He could tell the alien was stalling for something. What was it? Was... was some sort of weapon malfunctioning? Some sort of weapon that would trap Dib on this ship against his will? Some sort of weapon that would turn him frozen, so Zim's people could test mercilessly on his precious human DNA? Was Zim here to destroy and enslave all of humanity?!

Well, it certainly wasn't the last one, Zim made that clear. He spoke shyly, almost like he was anxious to speak to the human about something. That something seemed to be a personal something with Zim, which was strange because Dib had never thought of Zim had any reason to be personal with anyone. It was a human thing, to be personal. It was in the word!! PERSON-al. That personal reason was eating away at both of them-- Zim wanted to spit it out, and Dib wanted to know what it was before he had even stepped foot inside the spaceship.

As fate would have it, Zim continuously dodged the entire reason he had come to Earth, simply to ask if Dib was willing to act civil. Well, that was something he never thought Zim would ask. A technical ceasefire? A truce? Dib hated the thought because that had meant that Zim had inadvertently won. As Dib thought more on it... Dib had one the feud. The alien fled Earth and came back to negotiate a peace. Dib had no idea what to say. A simple 'yes to the situation' seemed very nonchalant. Dib, within a moment, did the most human thing he could think to do.

Dib felt his Swiss Army-Knife burn in his pocket. Dib pushed out his hand for a handshake, the Earthling way of universal peace. He felt... somehow vulnerable, giving his hand to Zim. This was breaking every rule in the Investigator's handbook. Dib should never fraternize with the enemy. Dib should never get personal with any cryptids, but here he was, going toe-to-toe with The Flatwoods Monster's close cousin, Invader Zim.

 

[Mira-Charma13]

Zim didn't seem to believe that Dib wasn't actually angry in some way, shape, or form. One of his antennae drooped forward and he squinted a single eye in the human's direction. If their situations were reversed, Zim knew he'd be angry. Perhaps that had more to do with his Irken upbringing than anything else, though. Leaving while in the midst of a tough and important battle was considered the most cowardly form of desertion and was punishable by death if an Irken was convicted of the crime. It was also a major faux pas and would often turn the offenders into social pariahs.

Not that that would have mattered much in Zim's case. He was an outcast long before this all took place.

Intially Zim mistook the Earth creature's extended hand as the beginnings of an attack and took a wary step backward, antennae pressed down flush against his smooth, hairless head. The domed PAK attached to his back trembled in response to the trepidation of its host. Zim was fully prepared to make use of the literal armor of weapons contained within. Though he humbly requested that Dib come to this meeting unarmed, Zim himself was armed to the teeth. An Irken was never unarmed thanks to the ever-versatile Irken PAK.

A few tension-riddled seconds ticked on by before Zim finally allowed himself to relax. Faint memories of his time on planet Earth flooded back to him. He now recognized the gesture the Dib was offering him, but only just a bit. The act of shaking hands was a human custom, yes? Humans shook hands to greet one another, show respect, and to make some sort of agreement. It clearly wasn't something Zim was familiar with, or even comfortable with.

But...this was meant to be an amicable meeting. Perhaps it would be better to compromise despite his disdain for touching other living creatures. With that in mind Zim straightened up. He reached around his middle and tapped a barely visible magenta button in the middle of his corset. In an instant he was floating, hovering about an inch off of the ground. Still hovering, Zim descended from the circle and slowly approached Dib with his hands in full view--to show that he wasn't reaching for a weapon. He drew just close enough and no more, not wanting to push any boundaries.

Slowly, uncertainly, he reached out and clasped the human's hand in his own. Zim had very small hands and long, spidery fingers--two especially long fingers and two much shorter ones that were most likely thumbs. He shook Dib's hand a single time before releasing it and quickly floating backward, his hands now hidden behind his back.

"Excellent! We have a truce." Relief flooded his expression. Apparently, making peace with Dib was a big priority for him at the moment. "Now...first thing's first." He turned, exposing his back to his old rival, and slowly hovered his way back to the circular platform. Once he took up his former spot he paused, deactivated his hover belt, and gazed at Dib over his shoulder. "Zim left all those Earth years ago for highly sensitive and personal reasons, which at the time took precedence over his mission of conquering your planet." His massive eyes narrowed into furious slits. "The Almighty Tallest, the monarchs of our vast Empire, betrayed me. Betrayed my loyalty! Betrayed my trust! They sent Zim here on a false mission. They had no idea your planet even existed--they just pointed to a random area on the Universal Map and sent Zim there hoping he would die in the vast emptiness of space! And when I didn't perish as they wished..." A low and feral growl escaped the thin being, "...they turned me into a laughingstock for my entire species, making fun of each and every one of my failures and blunders and talking about me behind my back! And I..."

The gleam in Zim's eyes was positively murderous. "Admittedly, I was crushed at first. I even tried to...to self-destruct. But GIR..." The SIR unit in question sat silently, his little antenna drooping sadly. "...GIR stopped me. Comforted me. And then I thought about it all..." His sharp square-shaped teeth ground together in his mouth, "...and I was outraged. Beyond outraged! So...I returned to my home planet, Irk. Before doing so..." Zim made a sweeping motion across his tall, thin body. "I illegally modified my height using a combination of chemical mixtures and surgery."

Zim briefly turned away, staring out through the windshield, before meeting Dib's eyes again. "I returned to the mother planet to consult a Control Brain. A Control Brain is akin to an Earth supercomputer, but is also a highly intelligent AI. The Brains help to maintain our vast Empire of two quintillion Irkens and thousands of planets. They have the same authority as the Almighty Tallest. I had myself measured with my improved height." A malicious smirk curled his jade-hued lips. "I made certain beforehand that I was an inch taller than our current Tallests. And because I was taller...I was able to dethrone them."

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I think you're intelligent enough to understand what that means, Dib-human." His antennae bounced. "Zim is now the Almighty Tallest of the Irken Empire. The monarch, the leader, of the most powerful Empire in the known Universe! Zim hopes you understand now why he cannot afford to be captured by your kin," he added as an afterthought. "Zim's subjects will not tolerate that. In fact, Zim is certain that his Head of Council--his second-in-command--will declare war against planet Earth and attack with the full force of the Irken Armada if I do not return safe and sound within twenty-four hours."

 

[Dip]

Dib watched as the alien being took a step back, and nearly jumped out of his skin. He had known that the alien observed strange customs that the humans partook in before-- he participated in Christmas, for God's sake-- but to think that he would feel threatened my an extended hand was just laughable. Dib wondered if Zim trusted him enough to come unarmed, and sure enough, Dib had lied right to his face.

Dib watched as the Invader struggled with this alien custom. He watched as he began to hover in mid-air, his eyes instantly falling to the other's feet. That... was cool, Dib had to admit. It was really cool. He wondered faintly how he had managed to work such a gadget. Magnets at the bottom of his shoes that reacted negatively to the hull of the spacecraft? Perhaps something that reacted to the atmosphere of Earth? Whatever it was, Dib was jealous. Dib stood unwavering, his eyes traveling back to the impending alien.

Dib felt the other's gauntlet first, but he soon felt the flesh that had been hidden. The handshake was cold. Cold like the hull of a spaceship would be cold, or cold as a buried hatchet, or as cold as a pocket-knife, he thought. He reached his long fingers around the small hand, feeling the returned pressure of two very thin index fingers-- they would be index fingers, right?-- reach around slowly. Dib likened the Irken to a mantis, had felt creeped out by the entire situation. He felt glad that this was the last time he'd ever grab the alien's hand. Zim left go quickly, and b-lined it back to the safety of his platform.

While Zim talked of truce, Dib thought of ceasefire. Dib watched as the alien fell down to the floor, and listened intently as he began to talk. When Zim mentioned 'highly sensitive and personal reasons', Dib's attention was caught. There was that root-word again, PERSON-al. But as Dib listened, he did understand what Zim meant. He didn't understand what he was going through, per se, and compared it to The President of the United States flipping the bird as he shot Dib into space on a one-way ticket to Mars. Admittedly, that'd be pretty cool.

Dib listened and was shocked when Zim mentioned the contemplation of suicide. Dib knew that suicide was never a joking matter, but in the name of science, he was glad that Zim had confirmed that yes, depression passed from living being to living being throughout the cosmos. That was... kind of a comforting fact. Dib thought back to the time he had raced to the place where Zim had resided and screamed at absolutely nothing in a fit of anger and sadness.

Dib couldn't help but smile when the alien mentioned the help of his SIR. GIR was deranged, dim-witted, over-stimulated simpilton, but he had... gears? He had gears of gold. Dib saw the alien robot beyond Zim, and wished his laptop would tell him that everything would be alright.

The next thing that Zim mentioned explained his height very much. He listened intently and slowly came to a haunting conclusion. "Wait wait wait wait wait. You're telling me that your government's-- no, your Empire's your entire CIVILIZATION'S LEADERS are chosen based entirely on who's the tallest person on the planet at any given time?" If Dib taped a Pak to his back and gallivanted himself onto the Irken planet with a pair of five-inch heels, he'd be the new leader of an entire race of aliens whose only job is to invade and destroy. Dib had a feeling that he was in the same situation before, where Zim had told him how the entire leadership system had worked, but he had chosen to remain ignorant.

But, when he really thought about it, that wasn't entirely too farfetched. Earth's leaders were picked by who had the most money at any given time.

Dib was pulled entirely out of thought when the alien had finished. Now... when Zim said 'return safe and sound within twenty-four hours', does he mean return to IRK within twenty-four hours, or leave the planet Earth within twenty-four hours? The thoughts of quantum space-travel didn't quite add up in Dib's head. If he could take a six-month trip within twenty-four hours, why did it take him that long to get to Earth in the first place? If he was taking so long to get home, wouldn't there be a better system in place to alert his Head of Council that there actually was danger?

Why didn't Zim come with any soldiers? Any fighters, anything?

As Dib thought more, it did become clear. It was Zim he was talking to. Irrational, petty, angry Zim.

"But... what does this have to do with me, Zim?" Dib asked, still entirely bewildered that he could tape blocks of wood under his shoes and lead an entire civilization.

 

[Mira-Charma13]

Zim quirked an antenna, bending it in a way that oddly resembled a raised eyebrow on a human. "Do you find the concept ridiculous?" The Irken leader snorted haughtily. "Pah! What Zim finds ridiculous is that you humans pride yourselves on having freedom in your daily lives, and yet your voting system to elect leaders is unfair, rigged, and just plain stupid! Your monarchies are also stupid! One shouldn't be entitled to rule over others simply because of their blood--that's just...idiotic! Our traditions are no sillier than yours when it comes right down to it."

He folded his thin arms across his chest plate, looking almost offended. "To become the Almighty Tallest, any aspiring Irken must first be measured from head to foot fully unclothed. So there is no way to cheat or buy your way into power unless you're awfully sneaky about it--like Zim was--because they know to check for things like surgical scars and chemical imbalances. The Almighty Tallest can be dethroned if a taller Irken steps forward, or if the Control Brains suddenly decide that the current Tallest is not worthy of his or her position. The Control Brains act like your legislative branch of government in that sense. The Council of the Tallest also acts as a legislative body and can request an official evaluation of the Tallest's actions and performances by the Control Brains at any time. So there is a governmental body there that keeps an extra eye on things."

For a short while Zim fell silent and watched closely as Dib processed the deluge of new information that had been so graciously shared with him. The human spoke up again, questioning what precisely his role was in all of this, and perhaps why Zim was telling him all of this in the first place. The Irken monarch pondered those words carefully, stealing another glance at GIR. His little SIR unit flashed him the brightest of smiles and swung his tiny legs back and forth.

"...Well..." Zim scowled and averted his gaze, now pointedly avoiding eye contact with his old enemy. "...Zim has been bored. Unchallenged. And...ehh..." GIR suddenly giggled and sat up straighter in his seat, craning his small neck to look straight at Dib. "My master's been lonely," he revealed as simply as he could, knowing those words would never leave Zim's mouth. The tall Irken grunted and turned away, his long antennae drooping with embarrassment. "I think he misses chasing you around and stuff. And, well...he kinda feels bad about leavin' you alone here and stuff."

"GIR..."

Zim's voice sounded strained at best and frightfully embarrassed at worst. The diminutive robot snickered, but fell silent. Zim scuffed his military boots against the floor, his back still turned to Dib. He spent about a minute in silence before turning again, this time to uncertainly meet Dib's gaze.

"Zim has returned not for the planet, but for the Dib." Hesitation dripped from his every word, as if he feared Dib would suddenly turn on his heel and bolt out of the ship in anger or fear...or both. "You never did fit in with the other human beasts," he continued slowly, refusing to even blink as he spoke now. "You were always smarter. Quicker. Craftier. And the idiot masses hated you for it. Condemned you. Ostracized you. And it is the same now as it was then, yes? Are you just as miserable as you were back then?"

Nervously, the Irken leader began twiddling his long fingers together. "If that is indeed the case...I would like to offer you an opportunity." He finally broke eye contact, slowly dragging his gaze upward to the sky he knew was above even it was concealed by the metal ceiling. "An opportunity to leave this forsaken ball of dirt behind for good. An opportunity to travel far and wide through the entirety of the known Universe! An opportunity to study and document space and everyone and everything that fills it. An opportunity to be something more--more than you could ever be on this filthy rotating ball of dirt that never appreciated your brilliance in the first place."

Zim's large eyes dropped down and he locked gazes with Dib, trying his best to appear stone-faced but allowing a smidgen of childlike hope to flutter across his face. "So? What do you say? Want to come on a magical adventure in space with Zim or not?"

 

[Dip]

Dib took a step forward and opened his mouth to argue. The human wanted to shout and scream and tell the alien that he was absolutely wrong and that he had a warped perception of politics and government and jesus christ he was right about everything. Dib closed his mouth and remained silent as the Irken explained the politics of his civilization further.

Well, Dib still had some years to grow... 'Why not overthrow the Irken government within a few years time?' Dib thought to himself. Dib listened to the alien's reasoning to dropping in on this lovely blue and green dot. The paranormal investigator noticed that the alien seemed... rather nervous. Hesitant, even. Dib expected an immediate reason, one that was shot back like a laser. Dib expected something elaborate. In the past, the Irken invader had been so good at impromptu reasonings and statements, it was kinda sad to watch him flounder.

At least it was, until Zim gave the real reason for his traversing and Dib could hardly believe it.

"What?" Dib asked, with a tone of annoyance in his voice. He directed this question to the robot, more so than the former Invader. Dib had to take a moment to wrap his mind around this statement. "He's been--" Dib stopped suddenly, and turned his attention back to Zim. "--you've been what? Lonely? Am I hearing that right? Lonely?" Dib couldn't believe what the SIR unit was saying.

Zim dismissed the other's comment and continued talking. Dib was on the defense, ready to rebuttals at anything the alien would say. He was ready to attack Zim, word for word, but... How could he attack compliments? Dib's anger melted into confusion and slight frustration. Smarter? Quicker? Craftier? Those were all true, of course, but why was he saying that to him? Was he trying to persuade him to accept some kind of deal? Dib crossed his arms tightly over his chest and listened.

And the answer was yes: Zim was.

"I would like to offer you an opportunity."

As Zim talked on an on about what possibilities the human would have aboard the ship, and honestly, all of the options were stuff that Dib had wanted for years. Dib had wanted these opportunities all his life. He yearned for space-travel, and those years of repressing the cosmos did a number on his personality and his personal hobbies. Zim was right about Dib not fitting in with the other humans. The alien was right that they condemned him, made fun of him, hated him. Dib had lived through nearly four years of daily bullying. Dib was shoved in a locker nearly every single day, up until he was a junior in high school!

But one thing that was still bugging him was what GIR had said: "I think he misses chasing you around and stuff." Was Dib nothing but entertainment? "And, well...he kinda feels bad about leavin' you alone here and stuff." Did Zim feel obligated to return to Earth to pick up his toy because he felt obligated to do so? Dib's eyebrow twitched. Zim missed making Dib look like an idiot. Zim missed making fun of Dib at every turn he could. Zim missed making Dib look insane.

Dib unfolded his arms from his chest. He had spent so many years of his life trying to save humanity, and now, Dib was the only human he cared about. "What do I say? What do I say?" Dib asked, taking a step forward to the new Almighty Tallest. "This is what I say,"Dib pointed a finger at the alien figure in front of him. "You are not going to fly your dumb spacecraft across the galaxy from your home planet because you fell sorry for me. You are not going to offer me the chance that every human being dreams of-- that only a select few in my race get to accomplish because you're bored."

Dib took two more steps towards the alien. "Let's make this clear, 'Almighty Tallest," Dib mocked this title as he took another step. "I am not going to be used as your plaything, Zim. I am not going along because I forgive you. I am not going along because I feel bad for you. I am not going along so you can 'chase me around and stuff'." Dib held up his hands and used air quotations as he switched his voice into a falsetto to mock GIR in a way. " I am not going because I really need someone to appreciate my brilliance. I am going, and I am going to be treated as your equal. Not like some disgusting creature that you happened to pick up on the way." Dib took a step and looked upwards to the Irken leader.

How ironic, that a human was looking up to the very thing he was demanding respect out of.

"I am your equal. You're not better than me anymore, Zim. We're equal."