Author's Notes: Hi everyone! This fic is something I've been working on for a while, but I waited until now to finish the chapter and post because I had to retool the plot a time or two. I hope this fic is different enough to hold people's interest. It feels different, but then again I've thought that before and been wrong. Eh, either way I don't think it's a common idea. Thank you for reading, and I hope you will review this story as well :)


Chapter 1

The Burning Light

"...And so My Tallest, I conclude this report by saying IT WAS ALL THE BEES' FAULT! ZIM WILL TRIUMPH OVER THE BEES! AND THE DIB-BEAST! I AM ZIIIIM! Signing off."

The communication feed to the Massive flickered off, leaving the room quiet once more. Purple started laughing his head off while Red just sighed because they kept having to put up with Zim's insane antics from several galaxies away. Why didn't that little green headache find a hobby or something?

Purple ordered more food from the royal kitchen and sipped on his soda in self-important contentment, but then he noticed that his fellow Tallest wasn't joining him. Red seemed more subdued than normal, especially considering that hilariously inept report from Zim.

"Hey Red, you want some of my curly fries when they get here?" Purple asked in hopes of perking up his co-ruler.

"Huh? Oh, sure. I guess," Red shrugged distractedly.

"Hey Red, what's wrong with you?" Purple asked when he realized subtlety wasn't going to work, "You look really bummed."

"Nah, I'm just tired, that's all," Red made excuses, but Purple wasn't fooled and continued to stare at Red knowingly, "Really, Purple. It's been a long day, and I need to get some rest is all."

"Long day? We played video games for two hours, and then oversaw the interrogation of some prisoners on Vort," Purple pointed out, "Overall you couldn't get a more relaxing stress-free day. So, what gives?"

"Nothing! Just leave me alone!" Red snapped before getting off the royal couch and storming out of the bridge.

Purple was left alone to ponder what had just happened. Red normally loved eating curly fries and making fun of Zim. Purple tried to think about what Zim could've said to upset his co-Tallest. After all, when something went wrong it was usually Zim's fault somehow.

Zim had said he tried to take over the world using a super large mirror to cast light over the city he was living in that would burn up the inhabitants. His plan was foiled (as usual) by a human smeet called Dib. The Dib thing blasted Zim's giant mirror into pieces using some sort of ionic fusion cannon. Then Zim yelled at the boy before being stung by bees Gir had been carrying in his head.

Purple couldn't help but chuckle again. Zim kept being bested by a mere child, and he treated it like an entire planet's armada was coming after him. It was hysterical! Overall though it was just another stupid failure on Zim's part. Nothing special.

So, why was Red so upset?


Red sat on his bed in his private quarters and huffed out several deep breaths. That stupid Zim! Of all the plans he could've concocted in that defective mind, why did it have to be a light beam?

Red's mind wasn't really in the room with him anymore. Instead he felt it being pulled back to thoughts he didn't want and flashbacks he couldn't bear. He forced himself to look in the mirror on his dresser. He examined his robes and his gauntlets.

"I am Tallest...I am Tallest," Red repeated as if it were a mantra, "I am not on Methlame. I am not a soldier anymore. This is the Massive. She's not here. This is the Massive, and I am Tallest now. Methlame is light years away, and I am Tallest. The light..."

That was when Red couldn't speak anymore. Why did Zim have to use a light beam? Why!? Red had spent the past two centuries trying to forget. Of all the conquests the Empire had commissioned, most had occurred when Red and Purple were the Tallests, but not all of them. Some planets enticed the Empire even under the reign of Miyuki. Some planets refused to accept Irken superiority, and for that the elite soldiers were sent to punish them.

"I am Tallest," Red began again, "There are UV-based lights all over the ship. She's not here, and she never will be again. I won. I'm alive, and I am Tallest. The universe itself is my rival now. She is nothing to me..."

Still, Red could not banish his wayward thoughts. He hadn't thought of Methlame, or the rival he had found there, in years. He probably could've made himself forget forever, if it weren't for Zim.

...

It had all started two Irken centuries ago. Red was a medium height elite soldier. This was before he and Purple had even met, and the Irken military had allowed for more disciplines than merely combat. Red was an engineer that had been trained by Vort allies, and he worked on the current flagship of the armada: The Adequate.

While Elite Red understood the need for military training and combat skills, his true passion had always been the inventing of new weapons and tinkering around with the ship. He loved his job, but he was also ambitious.

When Tallest Miyuki declared war on a planet rich in resources for the Irken Empire, Red was eager to volunteer to assist in the conquest. He was assigned to a small country on the planet and ordered to obliterate every life form that dared to oppose the Empire. Then he was given a box.

"Um, sir? What is this thing?" Red asked his superior officer.

"What are you, stupid? You're goin' to Methlame, soldier!" Was the only reply he got.

"Um, yes sir, I understand that sir, but what is this thing?" Red repeated; trying to sound respectful when all he felt was impatient.

"That soldier is a UV light box," The officer replied gruffly, "When you press that button on the side it will turn into a large box that will envelop your enemy. Once the enemy is inside a light will come on that will incapacitate and torture your enemy; rendering them helpless for the kill."

"How can light trap someone if it isn't electro-shock based or plasma-based?" Red asked skeptically.

"You don't know much about Methlame, do you kid?" Red's superior asked in disdain, "Ugh, fine! I'll tell you more. Methlame is a planet where the orbiting star never directly shines. The aliens that reside down there are gaseous life forms that cannot be captured by conventional means. Light, however, renders them powerless and unable to escape. To them it's like being set on fire and held down by a weight all at the same time. Now, your weapon is an air filter that will separate their molecules, ripping them apart horribly and causing their painful demise. Any questions?"

"Yeah, when you say gaseous, do you mean that they smell bad?" Red asked apprehensively.

"Yes. Very bad. Now move out!" Red's superior barked at him; causing young Red to run away in a hurry.

For the next few weeks Red and countless other Irken soldiers went around the planet trapping and vaporizing the Lame-Os; the name the Irkens had given to the citizens of Methlame. The Lame-Os themselves didn't believe in naming conventions either for themselves or for their cities. They were an ethereal people obsessed with the finite nature of the universe and therefore didn't believe in getting attached to things. Red could understand that. Irkens didn't let emotions cloud their judgment either. Well, at least not the goopy emotions.

One night (for it was always night) when Red was stalking around a burned up city (and boy did it burn! Thanks, methane atmosphere!) he saw a black spectral figure swaying in the distance. It was another one of those ugly smelly gas creatures. He readied his box for probably the hundredth time and threw it in the direction of the unsuspecting being. When he threw it, however, the Lame-O turned around and released large claws that sliced through the box before it could activate; rendering it useless.

"Hey! You can't do that!" Red protested, "You Lame-Os are powerless nihilists!"

"Why do you plague us, Irken invader?" The creature spoke in a raspy voice, "Our people have barely begun to explore the stars, and now you wish to take them away forever. Well, I won't allow it! My people may think I'm crazy, but I want to live, and I want to dream. You will not take our home and our lives prematurely, Irken scum! I will fight you to my last cycle of methane!"

Then the figure transformed into an exact replica of Tallest Miyuki, and for the first time since Red landed on the planet he was scared, actually terrified, of one of these inferior gas monsters.

"You're all doomed, just as we are!" That thing had Miyuki's face, but the raspy voice remained, "Prepare to perish, Irken meat sack!"

Miyuki's slender digits then turned into long branching claws, and the spider legs came out of the PAK. Red knew he had to destroy this thing, but he didn't know if he could without the incapacitating capabilities of the UV light box.

Red turned on his air blaster and tried to destroy the creature, but the creature separated its body; meaning the blaster was useless. Red continued to fire, and the Methlame creature continued to attack. The spider legs tried to impale Red, but he was faster. He tried to blast the creature, but it was too swift as its flowing ethereal form danced around him like a swaying curtain or a cape. Even with the appearance of Tallest Miyuki, there was something very phantom-like about this creature.

It took several minutes of them wearing each other down before either of them dealt a critical blow. The Lame-O thrust one of Miyuki's green talons in Red' directions, and knocked him over while also cutting him across the torso! Red fell down, and before he knew it the Methlame creature was surrounding him with its own body.

"Any final thoughts before you die, Irken?" The creature asked in a soft almost echoing voice that chilled Red to the core.

"Yes," Red managed to say despite his rising panic, "I make one final request. Don't kill me while using the form of my Tallest."

"Oh? And why not?" The creature asked in a neutral tone that gave nothing away.

"It is...unnatural. I can't explain it, but it doesn't feel right for an inferior smelly thing like you to look like Tallest Miyuki," Red replied, and then realized too late that insulting this monster probably wasn't helping his case.

"I see. You want a different form for your executioner," The Lame-O pondered, "Very well. But try not to scream. I hate your voice."

"The feeling is mutual," Red grumbled in discontent.

The methane creature then shifted its black smoky body into the form of another, more random looking, female Irken. She was shorter than Red, had red eyes, and brandished large steel claws.

"Better?" The raspy voiced creature asked in a bored tone.

"Yeah," Red replied, "So, are you female, or does your species even have genders?"

"That's not your concern, condemned Irken," The creature replied with contempt, "If you don't mind, I have other Irkens to kill today."

"Actually, I do mind," Red replied with a sinister smirk as he readied another weapon in his arsenal; a pair of energy cuffs.

Red turned on the cuffs and threw them over at the Irken-looking body of the Lame-O, and the UV light from the cuffs held the creature in place.

"No, no, nooooo!" It wailed as it tried to free itself, "I'm not ready! I'm not ready! You mustn't do this! No!"

Red paid no heed to its plaintive cries as he retrieved his air blaster from a few feet away. He casually walked over to the creature and smirked, earning an animalistic growl from the Lame-O.

"I'm just curious," Red was almost gleeful as he spoke to his captured prey, "Most other Lame-Os don't care if they die. They practically welcome death by our hands and don't bother transforming into anything. What makes you so different?"

"She's crazy," A random Lame-O said in a deep yet hollow voice, "Ask anyone that's left."

Red, annoyed, fired his blaster on the random Lame-O and listened to his screams as he was dissolved into the ether by the blaster. That one didn't even bother to try to dodge the fatal shot.

"I am not crazy!" The trapped creature shouted even though the name-caller was already gone, "Just because I want more out of life than not dying doesn't make me crazy! I'm an astronaut. I've seen the stars and felt the pain of both success and failure. It's a beautiful pain I wish to experience again. I can't do that if you kill me, so I ask you to let me go. After all, what is one life form to a being as powerful as you and your people are? I am young, and I just want to live a little longer before I'm doomed. Please?"

"No," Red shot down her request as he aimed his blaster.

He fired, but she split her body in two so the shot didn't harm her. Red continued to fire, and the Lame-O continued to dodge. Red was starting to get annoyed at not even being able to hit a target a point-blank range. Finally, after several minutes of struggle, the Mathlame creature managed to free herself from the burning prison of the stasis cuffs. She floated away, vowing to return to kill Red.

...

Red sighed as he recalled that first meeting. It was the beginning of a rivalry that would last for years. Red became obsessed with killing the Lame-O, and the Lame-O was equally obsessed with killing him. The last time he saw that monster was when the Irken Empire initiated Operation: Zap Happy, which was when the Irkens layed down UV light traps all over the planet and killed every Methlame inhabitant.

"What did we turn that planet into again?" Red asked himself, "Oh yeah, a mining planet. Eh, big deal. The air was already practically unbreathable."

Red said these things to keep his mind off the flashbacks, but beneath the surface they were still there. So many plans that failed, so many times the transforming smoky alien nearly killed him, so many times he wondered if it was all even worth it. He was sure the traps had killed the beast. No one had seen a Lame-O in over a century, maybe longer.

Still, part of him wondered if it was still alive.

Red hated listening to Zim's rants about the Dib. There were many banished defectives throughout the Empire, but Red hated Zim most of all. Zim reminded Red of that little part of himself that had also gone crazy with worry and ambition when he was an elite soldier. He reminded Red of her.


Dib watched Zim from across the classroom. After that giant mirror incident Dib was ready for whatever stupid plan Zim would come up with. If he could just catch Zim in the right moment, then he could expose Zim to the classroom and then the world! He just had to wait for the right-

There! Zim was pulling out some weird alien looking device! Now was his chance!

"Hey, look everyone!" Dib shouted as he pointed an accusing finger at Zim, "Zim's got some strange spooky alien machine in his hand! I told you he was an alien!"

"Silence, foolish earth boy!" Zim snapped angrily, "He lies! It is only my...Toothbrush!"

"That thing is round and has a laser on the end of it!" Dib pointed out in a desperate attempt to get the class to believe him, "That is not a toothbrush!"

"You lie! LIAR!" Zim screamed.

"Enough!" Ms. Bitters barked at the arguing children, "Sit down, both of you! Stop being so annoying, Dib."

"But...but..." Dib sputtered uselessly, "Evil! Zim! Toothbrush!"

Ms. Bitters growled and hissed, forcing Dib to go back to his seat and shut up. Zim grinned in triumph, and Dib scowled back at him.

"Yeah Dib, stop being annoying!" Sara taunted as she stuck her tongue out.

The other kids started laughing, and Dib fumed at once again having the human race practically beg for extermination. Why didn't anyone see the truth? Zim wasn't even trying to be subtle anymore, if he ever did, and it drove Dib crazy that he was the only one even trying to stop mankind's destruction.

The rest of the day passed much the same way for Dib. He would watch for Zim to do something evil, Zim would do something that was probably evil, he would call Zim out for it, and the kids would defend Zim while Ms. Bitters scolded him. He was getting so sick and tired of it that he barely acknowledged his final assignment; a worksheet of 200 math problems.

He continued to observe the alien freak, but Zim finally seemed to stop unleashing his unholy madness upon the skool in favor of working on his math paper. Dib decided to do the same, and to his horror he saw, written in red, a note that read: Dib, my desk! After class!

Oh, crud! He was being summoned by Ms. Bitters. It was one of his nightmares come true. Dib, despite the bravery and heroism he tried to show to the outside world, was in fact a boy that wrestled with many fears in his life. He feared the paranormal and unknown, he feared his little sister Gaz, he feared hospitals and men in white crazy house uniforms, he feared cats, and he feared some of his father's crazier science experiments. Most of all though, hidden deep within his heart, he feared Ms. Bitters.

He knew Ms. Bitters was something otherworldly, what exactly he couldn't tell. She was cold, angry, and almost animalistic in her movements and speech patterns. Most strange phenomena he could handle because he wasn't close to it. Even Zim wasn't as big a deal because at least he could fight the alien monster on equal terms. Ms. Bitters, however, was his teacher. For eight hours a day she had absolute power over his life and his future. It wasn't a paralyzing fear like a phobia, but there was a wariness just beneath the surface that kept him on edge.

The class bell finally rang, and children poured out of the building like batter from a bowl. Dib, however, trudged over to Ms. Bitters' desk in preparation for whatever fate awaited him. Her demeanor seemed casually cruel as always, so he wasn't sure what exactly it was she wanted with him.

"You wanted to see me, Ms. Bitters?" Dib asked as he sagged his head and avoided eye contact with the old crone.

"No Dib, I just wanted to see if you actually look at the assignments I give you," Ms. Bitters replied sarcastically, "Apparently you do look at your work and then choose to ignore it. If you're not going to pay attention in class or make any stupid friends, then why are you here at all? Nobody likes you and your big head is annoying."

"Gee, thanks a lot," Dib sulked.

"I'm serious, Dib. Just go home and rot your brain with cartoons or whatever," Ms. Bitters groused, "You're obviously not getting anything out of being here."

"I can't just ditch skool!" Dib exclaimed incredulously, "And what kind of teacher are you for trying to get me to drop out?"

"An old and tired one," Ms. Bitters deadpanned, "You interrupt my class almost every day for your end of the world nonsense. End of the world nonsense is my job! You also don't do your skool work or your homework, and your grades are slipping. Why bother wasting desk space if you've already decided to be a drain on the system? You might as well start collecting your welfare checks now. I'm pretty sure your mental disability will fetch you a nice paltry check so you can chase all the imaginary creatures you want."

Dib couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was used to his teacher's fatalistic tendencies, but they were never directed specifically at him before. He was used to insults from children, and even from some adults, but to be called a waste on the skool system by a teacher? Never! His brain power was the one positive thing he had over all the other students, and he had always been an overachiever. Had his obsession with stopping Zim and saving the world really forced his grades down so badly?

"I can get my grades back up!" Dib practically pleaded with his teacher, "You'll see! I can do better!"

"I know you can. That's what makes it worse," Ms. Bitters growled, "You can do better but you choose not to. Not that it matters. We're all doomed anyway. Might as well give up and start coasting through life while you can. Trust me, caring only leads to disappointment. Now, I have papers to grade, not including the one you DIDN'T do, so get out of my face. Go!"

Her sharp tones snapped Dib out of his bad news induced stupor, and he dejectedly left the classroom. His dad was going to be so disappointed in him when he found out about this. Dib knew his father thought he was crazy, but despite this Prof. Membrane was usually tolerant of his son's insane experiments. Bad grades, however, were an unforgivable sin in the Membrane household. Dib needed to get his grades back up before something horrible happened.

Ms. Bitters listened until her last student had gone, and then settled in for a long night of grading papers. She sat at her usual chair and let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a growl. The fluorescent lights buzzed about her head, making the place sound like a giant bug zapper awaiting a fly. Terrific.

Ms. Bitters didn't really like being a teacher, and didn't particularly care for her students, but every few years she would find a student that got under her skin. This year she had two.

Dib was such an idealist. He believed he could save the world and be beloved and respected for his heroism. Such foolish nonsense. Ms. Bitters knew how it felt to see dreams go up in smoke. Space was a cold cruel void, and earth was a hot cruel void. Either way she knew the boy wouldn't find the peace he was looking for until he accepted that some things were better left to entropy.

The other student that got on her last nerve was Zim. Now there was a voice that could peel paint! Ms. Bitters had watched Zim with detached apathy since he came through her door for the first time. She did her best to intimidate him, and it oddly enough seemed to work. Intimidation was all his kind understood. Well, that and submission, but that would just be ridiculous.

Parent teacher night had been a fun little mind game for Ms. Bitters. The way Zim squirmed when he found out he had been recorded, and the way he ran around like a headless chicken trying to contain his 'parents'. All the while Ms. Bitters played the ignorant authority figure and didn't say a word about the incident. In fact, after a while she actually forgot he was there.

"Why would you tape that?" Zim had asked in nervous confusion when shown the recording of his lapse in attention to his teacher.

Why indeed... Ms. Bitters thought as she silently chuckled to herself.

Irkens were such fun to mess with. Oh sure, eventually they always won and eventually everything they touched was doomed, but they were fun to mess with in the moment. Ms. Bitters knew Zim was an invader from the beginning, and because of this she knew the earth would soon burn to cinders.

She considered leaving earth after Zim infiltrated her classroom, but it hardly seemed worth it at this point. She was old and had nothing to live for or care about. Might as well run out the clock. It's what her family would have wanted for her. Acceptance of her own doom.

That was the main reason she couldn't stand Dib. He stood for everything she used to be, and everything she had to reject in order to survive. He had youth, optimism, and a sense of ambition. He saw the Irken as a conquerable foe that could be vanquished like in the fairy tales of old. Dib was the knight, and Zim was the fearsome fire breathing dragon. Only in the story books there weren't thousands of other dragons waiting to ambush the knight as soon as he thrust his sword through the decoy. That was all an invader really was anyway, a decoy to distract from the real threat of the armada.

Night had fallen outside the skool. Ms. Bitters got up from her chair and walked over to the window. She wanted to go outside, just for a moment. It wasn't an urge she got often, and she needed to keep herself in check lest the sun come up and evaporate her like a puddle on the sidewalk. Still, it would be night for a few more hours, and the papers were graded. What was the harm?

The she saw a bush blowing violently in the wind, and paused. She had been about to open the window and escape her chalk and paste scented prison, but she thought better of it. The wind would scatter her very cells for sure. Grunting in disappointment, she took her withered hand off the window and went back to her desk.

Not knowing what to do with herself until skool started again, she rummaged through the desk looking at items she had confiscated from disruptive children. She found a rubber frog, a cell phone, a rubber snake, a dead rat, an inhaler, and a harmonica. She picked up the harmonica, examined it, and shrugged to herself.

If anyone had bothered to walk by the skool on that windy moonless night, they would've heard a harmonica being played badly by a bored spectral gaseous creature posing as a human being. Maybe it was for the best that no one walked by the skool that night.