Hatred of the World
Theme Song: Zack Hemsey, "Empty Room"
~~~ "Hate is a strong word, and people say you shouldn't use it. But that's precisely why I do, because only a strong and unmistakable word like hate can clearly describe how I feel about you." ~~~
'A their core, humans really are such disgustingly pitiful creatures, aren't they?'
The green-skinned alien was sprawled lazily in his thick chair, his fingers trailing lazily across the blinking lights on his console with a strangely detached fascination, barely even paying the slightest attention to the glowing sphere outside the window in front of him as he rested in the comfort of his orbital space station high above the planet he watched.
The planet was dark and cold as the worldwide power outage cut the dominant race off of one of its most taken for granted resource: electricity. Orange spots flaring up across the once-blue world marked places where rioting and panic had broken out, causing cities to go up in flames and saving him the trouble of doing so himself. Hideous monsters were released onto the already devastated burning rock, both disgustedly grotesque and unexpected skulking silently through the crumbling streets, consuming any unfortunate human who just so happened to cross their path at the wrong time. It had been so easy... Snap a few strings and the tottering string puppet that this pig-like race was simply fell apart, tearing itself apart and feeding their own kind to the sharks without a moment's notice.
And yet, the only reason why it had escalated to this breaking point in the first place was because this HORRIBLE, disgusting race killed their only hope for salvation, and thus dooming themselves to oblivion.
These creatures deserved to die like the fools they were, screaming in this inferno he'd summoned.
But he couldn't bring himself to really hate their ugly, stink-filled hides anymore.
Not anymore, for the race of humanity was now beneath contempt and so utterly unworthy of a thing like hate. What else could he say about beings who had willingly signed their own death warrant? Who had thrown themselves into the pit of fire, ignoring the one voice that could have possibly saved them? Even if Zim really did still feel some aura of contempt for them, he was no longer aware of it, as the emotion was buried under the rage he felt to something long since gone.
'You have to really care about something to be able to effectively hate it.'
Perhaps this was true, because it was only his mission that convinced Zim to destroy this pathetic world instead of letting this suicidal race do it themselves. He set free his monsters and experiments upon the planet's surface and eliminated a few power sources and the dirtball called Earth started to crumble with ease. No one left could stop him. No one knew how he worked or the methods to be employed.
The only one who paid close attention was no longer around to stop this intense catastrophe. And thanks to those useless scumbags, He wasn't going to be coming back this time to turn it around.
Zim realized this was no reason to celebrate.
The human he despised beyond anything else on this filthy planet was the only enemy he had to face him, and the alien hadn't even been able to deliver the final blow personally. He had accomplished his mission at last and yet at the same time, he had also lost eternally. Because now he would never get the chance to defeat his opponent for good or shove his victory in that boy's face. Dib was beyond reach.
Of course the boy had hated him too, so there was no denying that little detail. They made each other's lives a living hell more than once. Where each had their own conflicting plans for the future, blood was destined to be spilled. He couldn't even count how often they had traded blows, bruised black and blue on one side while the other nursed the wounds from Earth's acidic water, maintaining that steady glare.
Zim had never quite made up his mind of what to do with him when he stood victorious above Earth with this conquest completed. Wasn't sure and always jumped back and forth depending on his mood and how infuriated with that human he was at the time. Whether he wanted to kill him, experiment on him, torture him or enslave him...Zim never actually knew for certain.
Dib wasn't much of a pacifist either. He liked to remind the Invader every now and then with a dramatic taunt, of how he was planning on taking Zim apart, piece by piece at the first opportunity.
Maybe that was part of the thrill of fighting Dib; the fact that he could entertain so many horrible ways to break him in the end, and the knowledge that his own life was on the line that made it even more exciting. No matter how much of a hassle it could be at times to clean out the spy cameras in his base.
But now in the Endgame it no longer meant anything, because he was winning without a true victory.
It was conquering without defeating anything.
It felt like such a boring, meaningless way to bring this long-suffering mission to a close.
And yet, at the same time, he hated that boy for an entirely different reason.
Zim despised being bound to this emotion, bordering on desperation to wanting to leave behind all trace of this world he thought so little of, but also knew that the memories would never completely fade. There was no way to abandon it, because he had become so accustomed to his rivalry that the fight was ingrained into his mind forever.
It didn't make the slightest bit of sense. The amount of time spend on that dirtball was an insignificant fraction when compared to the life he'd lived so far. And yet, Earth had changed Zim in a way that could not be undone. His clawed digits itched relentlessly, wanting to fight and combat someone that no longer existed, and threw his gaze all around the space station with some unconscious and refined need to have something—anything—step forward to defend the planet he was burning to ash. Something had to resist, to fight back and—even perhaps—to succeed to draw the deadly game out even longer.
But there was nothing but silence, and Zim slouched in his seat, staring listlessly at the monitor once more, crimson eyes dulled. With one forced yet quiet breath and gaze fixed on the faraway infernos that had once filled him with such terrible ecstasy, he addressed the missing party with a voice tinted a confusing mixture of venomous distaste and the spark of distant nostalgia.
"I can't stop hating you, Dib.
I hate you for your resisting.
I hate you for being such a worthy rival.
And...I hate you for being unable to withstand the hatred of the world."
(A/N): I was feeling grim, so much. And I thought the world being destroyed was a good way to write it out. This is for all of you rivalry fans out there.