The Karma Circle: That Damned Zim!, an invader zim fanfic

What exactly is faith? You could say that it's belief. Belief in something supernatural. But it's more than that. Faith is holding onto something despite whatever changing mood you might have. It's something you stick to despite contradictory evidence or temporary emotions. One can have faith their dentist isn't going to do anything to them when they're being anesthetized…but they'll still tense up when the mask comes down. One can look at the many terrible things a race has done and it can seem as though they're irredeemable, yet…you will still have faith that they can be good, that they are basically decent deep down.

Or to put it more simply…take getting a splinter out of a child's finger. The pain the child's in will blind them to the obvious: the need to get the splinter out. It will hurt more to take it out, they can feel it hurt more, why should they believe getting it out will help them when it's clearly hurting? The evidence is showing it won't help!

But you know better. You know that the child needs to trust in you. What appears as painful will actually benefit them. They just need to have some faith in you to get over this little hump.

In a way, faith is really more logical than you'd think. It's about being willing to keep an open mind whilst trusting all will work out for the best. We all have our own faiths…in our loved ones…in our political systems. And, of course…in ourselves.

But what happens when we don't really believe in anything? Not even ourselves? Not really?

That, well…

Then you need a hand to reach out.

…and fast.

Soft light filtered gently through the crystal windows, cascading down onto the bowed heads of the congregation as the white-robed Irken clasped his hands together, head bowed with them in solemn honorance of this moment. His balled antennae bounced slightly as he raised his head up, spreading his hands wide, the green necklace he wore glimmering in the light as his congregation slowly opened their eyes, listening keenly to his soft, dark, yet entrancing voice. It seemed to be almost a mixture of hypnotized amazement and awe-inspired fear as his voice rose out over the chapel.

"Hear me well." He proclaimed. "Hear me well, for the Cornerstone of Light can sense your heart. He knows what lies within your spirit. After all, he gave it to you. The Cornerstone expects great things of you all...he gave you the gift of Compassion to spread kindness and understanding, and Intelligence to know what is right and what is wicked, and the Will to do what is right!" The white-robed Irken loudly proclaimed, clenching a fist into the air, tightening it as his white, sightless eyes seemed to somehow pierce through them all, as if seeing INTO them. "Go forth now! Do not be afraid! Do not falter! And you will feel Sude working through you. The Entity of Life, he who shapes our universe, loves you all dearly."

The Irkens in the congregation all glanced nervously at each other as the preacher's tone became gentler, more kindly. Though dark, there was a mercy to his voice that was clearly showing through. "He is with you when you suffer, for he is connected to all of us as the Entity of Life. He is there when you laugh, when you cry. When you are in pain, so is he. Yet he's given you all that you need to make your lives and the lives of others around you better. Act upon those gifts…embrace them." The preacher said, wrapping his arms around himself, slowly sinking to his knees before holding his hands up high.

"And his Light will shine upon you! Oh, Cornerstone of Light! Hail to you, Sude, Cornerstone of Light!"

"Sude, hear our prayers." His congregation called back, bowing their heads, clasping their hands in the soft red cushions of the pews as the preacher rose up, holding his hands up high.

"This service has ended. Go in peace, children of Irk." He proclaimed, all of the many Irkens slowly milling out of the church, cheerily smiling and shaking each other's hands, the preacher calmly turning around and heading for his office across from the large pearly altar in the center of the church, a visage of a dragon with rainbow wings displayed in a lovingly-drawn painting above. He was looking forward to tomorrow, Skoodge would be there, his old friend would be a most welcome presence-

It was then that a bit of calm, slow clapping alerted him to someone else in the church. He calmly turned around, arms folded across his chest as the clapping ceased, and a familiar voice rang out…

"Hello, Darithil." Zim remarked, lowering his hands and smirking at the blind Irken, Darth tilting his head slightly to the side as he "looked" in the direction of Zim, white eyes sightlessly staring, blinking only once in a slow, deliberate manner.

"Zerinim, why are you here? I don't even need to read your mind to know you don't put any belief in my teachings." Darth said, gesturing around the chapel. "I'm surprised you even found this place…"

"The Tallest sent me here to investigate. Called me away from my important mission on Earth for…THIS? Really?" Zim muttered, rolling his eyes as he glanced around the church, kicking the soft blue carpeted floors, each with stars and planets of the galaxy woven into every inch. "Zim is not surprised the Tallest consider you a threat. The high amount of of SCHMALTZ in your sermon is fatal."

"Yes, yes, I've heard my preaching can be so cheesy folks can feel their cholesterol rising with every exultation I give." Darth remarked as he put a hand on his chest, feeling the soft, silken texture of his clothes as Zim growled slightly. Darth didn't even need to see Zim to tell he was sneering at him, the sheer hubris and disdain infected every syllable Zim used, every inflection was tinged with smug detachment from Darithil of Irk's desired message.

"I'm going to report back to them…defective. They've been too easy on you because as a psychic AND Cardnial Consular, you've become the best interrogator Irk has. But I recognize you for what you are…you're weak."

"Because I actually care about other people?" Darth remarked calmly, steepling his clawed hands as Zim snorted.

"Invaders need no-"

"If that was true the Tallest wouldn't give every one of them a SIR UNIT, now would they?" Darth icily inquired as Zim's immediate sharp intake of breath told him he'd hit a nerve. "And would a true invader also require…say…creating a moose-esque doomsday robot? Or ask his former classmate and constant comrade who happens to be very short and very fat to do half the work for him? Because Skoodge has told me you once SHRUNK him to shoot him into Dib's body. He still has nightmares, the poor soul."

"This is not about Zim, it is about YOU, and your emphasis on emotions is simply-"

"Smart." Darth said, cutting Zim off with a wave of his hand. "Tak tragically and foolishly pretends to be above them. You're willfully ignorant of them, thinking you don't need them when you already demonstrate your own excessiveness."

"I NEVER feel. No Irken feels-"

"You're egotistical, cruel, selfish and idiotic. The Tallest are prideful, easily distracted, gluttonous and boastful. You don't call THOSE emotions?"

Zim was now turning purple. "I-that-I-just-that's-you're twisting everything around!"

"Getting in touch with your emotions will do you good, Zim." Darth said, heading over to the alter and putting his hand upon it, slightly bowing his head. "You'll be able to see your truest, best self. It'll be like veils have parted from your eyes, and you'll finally see for the first time. Why not come to another sermon tomorrow? Skoodge will be there. And I've got something planned I think you'll enjoy. Something he helped craft, a very lovely little sermon on Hope and Intelligence-"

"I'd have to be brain damaged to even think about listening to you." Zim snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'll be there. Just to mock you in front of your…FLOCK." He muttered, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Skoodge clearly can't be that intelligent if he's helping you….defective!" He added, exiting the church as Darithil sighed, bowing his head and shaking it back and forth as he clasped it in one hand.

"I don't know WHAT went into crafting his soul, Cornerstone of Light. Maybe he used to be a dead fern. It would explain why he always smells funny." Darth murmured. "Because without a doubt, everything about him is ROTTEN."

…

…unbeknownst to Darithil, Zim had a different goal in mind. One he was going to put into place as soon as he could…and without the psychic interfering. It had been HELL to not think about it one iota in the church...but Zim had been counting on that blind fool not trying to invade his private thoughts, peering too deeply. If he had, he would have known Zim intended to come back, alright…

But at night…with gas and a flamethrower, intending to burn the whole place down into a blazing wreck.

Zim giggled a bit as he placed the canisters of glass around the corners of the chapel, humming to himself as he waved a gloved hand back and forth in the air. "I'm going to BURN, BABY, BURN. Heh. What do you know, Earth culture HAS left a mark on me. I should thank Dib…once his swelling goes down." He grinned, thinking of his LAST plan, putting the last canister right by the altar, just by the large painting that hung overhead, Zim frowning up at it and sticking his tongue out. "Yeccch. Stupid Seraphi. "Ooh, I'm the Cornerstone of Light, I granted life to everything, I've a stupid face cuz I'm a stupidhead!" He muttered. "If you're so big and powerful, try and stop me from burning down your-"

The painting fell down, whacking him over the head as Zim let out an angry yell. "YEOOOW!" He roared out, rubbing his head, groaning as he glowered furiously at the painting…before realizing that somebody had just ducked into a doorway in the back. Darth? The defective? Oh, he thought it was funny, did he?

Zim angrily raced across the carpet towards the slightly open doorway, ripping it open and racing into the dark depths within, glancing left and right as the soft light of the moons of Irk that had been filtering through the crystal windows in the chapel began to fade away the deeper and deeper he went through the hall…

Until at last, he was alone with shadows and dust…alone.

All alone…

And then…another door opening at the far end of the hall…ever so slightly, with a faint, squeaking CRRREEEAAAAAK. Zim blinked a bit, approaching the doorway, a faint, odd pinging, beeping noise slightly ringing through the air with every step he made as he opened the door up.

Beep.

Something was very wrong…he'd found himself in an enormous hall, the floor beneath seeming to be on the verge of splitting open, foul, unholy green light, sickening and vile, poking its head through the large cracks. A cold, bitter wind seemed to be blowing through the ripped-open walls and roof of the church, exposing what appeared to be a dark, starless night outside, clouds whirling around overhead in a circular fashion, Zim slightly clinging to himself as he chewed on his lip.

"What's…has that defective been using the paranormal things that the DIB uses?" Zim murmured aloud. "Some kind of magic spell or…"

The ground beneath him shuddered, Zim quickly stepping away from one of the cracks as it seemed to hiss and growl at him, Zim cringing as he glanced left and right. "I need to find that filthy defective and I need to find him now!"

"You're looking for Darth?" A familiar voice rang out, Zim glancing to the far right, seeing Skoodge was sitting in a chair on a piece of floor that didn't have quite as many cracks in it as the rest, underneath large hung paintings of various planets. Skoodge's portly body looked like it should have been cracking the simple wooden chair in half, but…oddly enough, the chair had intricate designs carved onto it. The harder you looked at it, the more fascinating designs you saw, with delicate spirals and swirls, each made of tiny little letters that seemed to be spelling out quotes and phrases in various languages.

"Skoodge? What're you doing here?" Zim asked, frowning as he scratched his head, the wind slightly dying down, making it easier for him to hear his friend as Skoodge flipped through the book he was currently reading, a copy of "Brave New World", Skoodge momentarily pausing at one page, looking it over, going "hmm" as he read the page intently. "…hello!?" Zim asked.

"I like this part. You believe the main character is this person, but the true focus is on someone who's so much better and smarter than him." Skoodge said nonchalantly. "And so likable. He just wants to belong. He does everything right…I can see so much of myself in him, but…perhaps you see someone else, if you think hard about it. Isn't that right, Zim?" Skoodge asked, Zim cringing as he scratched his head, pursing his lips.

"Wh-what're you…look, where's the filthy blind defective?" Zim snapped. "I don't have time for this…" He murmured. "…my PAK…why can't I activate my PAK lasers?" He murmured. "My jetPAK addition? What did you do to my PAK? I could only have ten minutes to live!"

"I think you've got plenty of time, Zim. Trust me…that's the one thing you DO have. And besides…it isn't like there's much back on Earth to go back to. What, are you gonna slip ANOTHER shellfish into Dib's lunch?" Skoodge asked as Zim snorted and dismissively waved a hand in the air.

"BAH! You're just jealous of Zim's GENIUS!" Zim said as he turned away from Skoodge and folded his arms over his chest, not realizing cracks were beginning to form in the ground below him. "Zim's going to be a true Invader once he conquers Earth. I'll be back there soon enough and completing my greatest plan yet!"

"You had said that getting control of the MegaDoomer was your greatest plan, and you couldn't even hold onto that." Skoodge remarked. "You once said the Brain Parasite as your most amazing plan, and you didn't even-"

"Yes, well, this time'll be DIFFERENT!" Zim snapped, wheeling back at Skoodge and pointing accusingly. "Why don't you think I can do it?"

"…it's not ME who thinks you can't do it." Skoodge said. "Zim…where do you think you ARE?"

Zim frowned, waving a hand in the air. "Now you're just being stupid, I'm somehow stuck in the church, where's-"

Movement to the far left corner of his eye. He whirled around, seeing a form vanish into another doorway and raced after it, leaving Skoodge behind, leaping over cracks as burning green surged up through the floor. He barreled into the doorway, slamming it shut behind him as he glanced about, seeing he was now at a large flight of stairs leading up, up in a circular fashion to a large, circular globe-shaped room high above, sealed off from sight by giant red bricks. Zim began climbing up the staircase, frowning a bit as he walked past the doors, each one appearing to be that of a giant face, the faces…shifting…

The higher and higher he got up the staircase, the more the face-doors changed, going from Irken faces…to human. From his own…

And then...at the last one, the doorway to the room above…to Dib's. Zim frowned, opening up the doorway, Dib sitting in a chair, reading over a copy of "Pinocchio" as he tilted his head slightly upward to look over the book and at Zim.

"Did you know that in the original Pinocchio, he squishes Jiminy Cricket, the voice of Conscience in the story? Jiminy is always trying to tell Pinocchio what he should be doing, y'know. Trying to help him act like a real boy would, like a good boy would. And Pinocchio wants to be a real boy."

"That stupid story…" Zim muttered. "I remember it, we had to read it for CLASS. It involved a "blue fairy". Ms. Bitters said she'd been a fairy once."

"I don't even wanna imagine what she looked like. But the Blue Fairy was the one who could turn Pinocchio into a real boy. She kept warning him to stay away from doing wrong and turned him human because he did so much good." Dib admitted as he pointed down at the book, smiling broadly. "It was hard for him, but he became real because he loved his father, and he could do a lot of good by caring for him. It becomes easier to do good for others when you care about them."

"You sound like the filthy blind defective." Zim muttered, the room bathed in faint white light as he rolled his maroon/ruby eyes, Dib adjusting his glasses as he raised an eyebrow up at Zim. "I just need to be NICE and everything will work out. How stupid. True invaders show no remorse, no pity, no mercy."

"No compassion means no strength. Anyone can strike with a fist at one they hate. It takes more strength to help the one they hate up. To extend the hand in compassion." Dib said. "Come on, Zim. Sit down, let's talk."

"I don't want to talk to you." Zim snorted, waving a hand dismissively in the air, the room…slightly shaking? No, it was just his imagination.

"I've been trying to talk to you for ages, but you never really listen. If you just sat down with me, maybe you'd realize we have more in common than you'd think." Dib admitted. "Maybe you'd understand what you should really be doing. And now you have that chance. Just TAKE it already!" Dib admonished. "I mean, where do you think you are? Don't you get it, even now? This could be your last chance."

"I don't want to be friends with you." Zim snorted. "FRIEEEENDS. Yeccchhh. You're as soft and stupid as Keef! I don't know what you're trying to pull-no…NO…" Zim's eyes narrowed, his tone becoming dangerous, angry. "You're trying to trick me. This is some kind of magic spell. You want me to let my guard down…you and the defect cast some kind of spell on me, trying to brainwash Zim."

"Nobody's brainwashing you. We're trying to reach you…even you realize that. You just don't want to admit it."

Zim hissed angrily, antennae flattening against his head as he snarled at Dib, the room beginning to shake back and forth. "I've had enough of your games! Where's the defect?! Show me where Darithil is or I'll rip your thro-"

The floor beneath him gave way, Zim screaming as he fell down, down, tossing and turning about in the air as he fell in free-fall. He plummeted like a stone into the inky depths below, cold wind whipping around at him, a horrible, screeching wailing noise filling the air, his body feeling as if it was being assaulted by electric shocks as he howled again and again. "STOP! STOP! STOP-"

THWUMP.

Zim awoke to find himself in a confessional booth, a single window on the other end showing Darth sitting there in the darkness, head turned away from Zim, balled antennae bowed as he seemed to be praying silently. Zim panted a few times, seeking to catch his breath, holding onto his chest as he cringed before finally speaking up, his voice squeaky and pained as Darth slightly turned his head to glance towards Zim, most of his face still obscured by the shadows of the confessional booth, the walls of the booth oddly soft to the touch…

"What have you done to me?"

"I haven't done anything, Zim." Darth sighed out. "You're here because you want to be here. Because deep down, you understand…but the rest of you resists."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?!" Zim snapped out, gripping his knees, glowering darkly at Darth as the blind Irken let out a soft, sad sigh. "You've cast some kind of magic spell! The church I'm in has become hellish and foul! Nothing makes any sense!

"It does, Zim. You just don't understand yet. You're only confused and scared because you don't recognize what the rest of you does. Didn't you understand the hints you kept receiving?" Darth quietly inquired. "Hasn't it sunk in?"

"Hasn't WHAT sunk in?!" Zim snapped.

"Zim…think about it. REALLY think about it." Darth asked softly. "Haven't you realized yet? We've been trying to spell it out, but you keep ignoring what's right in front of you."

"I want to get out of this place!" Zim yelled, banging his fists against the window of the confessional, trying to whack Darth, his eyes glowering darkly. "Turn and face me, you coward! Why don't you just tell me what you've-"

"It's what YOU'VE done." Darth said, slowly turning his face to stare into Zim's…Zim seeing his own eyes reflected back at him, his mouth slowly widening, opening, closing, opening, closing.

"No. No, no, no, not-not possible, that…that can't be…I…I can't be…"

"Don't you GET it, Zim? I want it to stop. I want to be better. It has to stop, Zim. I have to be something else." Himself asked, his voice soft, quiet…pleading. "Because the way I am…nothing will change. Ever."

"This…this isn't right. I…" Zim clutched his head, shaking it back and forth, gritting his teeth, sweat beginning to drip down his brow, his tone becoming panicked and terrified. "No, no! This isn't happening! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! You're not me! You're NOTHING like me!"

"We don't want this anymore, Zim! None of us do! Wake up with us."

"You stay away from me!" Zim screeched out, crawling away from the confessional, going for the door, struggling to rip it open, the walls echoing his words back at him as he struggled in vain to rip the door open. He grunted and heaved, putting his full strength into tearing the door open, panting snarling as sweat kept pouring down his brow, and he banged futilely on the exit to the confessional. "Let me out, let me out, LET ME OUT!"

…

… "How long has he been like this?" Skoodge wanted to know, scratching his head as he stared at Zim's still, quiet form as he lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to a life support machine that was faintly pinging, barely reading life signs as Darth sighed, hanging his head and shaking it back and forth.

"Three days and he hasn't woken up once." He mumbled. "He flatlined for a few brief moments, the medics managed to bring him back but…he hasn't woken up. It's like his mind has just…closed off. He's just not responding, Skoodge."

Beep.

"It's so strange." Skoodge murmured. "Why was he in your church again?"

Darth was quiet, glancing over at Zim's unmoving body in the bed, the soft fluorescent light fixture above shining down upon them, the fan slowly swinging its blades back and forth overhead. "…it's not important. He just…had an accident. A painting in the church came off the wires I used to hold it up, hit him on the head, and I found him bright and early the next morning, almost tripped right over him…"

"Mr. Dib said he wanted to know if we could ship him over to Earth? He said it's for study." Skoodge asked. "Besides, the Tallest don't want him taking up a bed that should go to "really hurt Invaders, not losers that got booboos from portraits"."

Beep.

"Yes. "Study". I'm sure." Darth mumbled softly. "I'll let him know in a few more days."

"I'm sure Zim will have woken by then." Skoodge offered comfortingly as Darth stared deep into Zim's face, seeing beyond.

"…no…somehow…I doubt it." He murmured softly.

…

… Zim growled angrily, racing across the carpet towards the slightly open doorway, ripping it open and racing into the dark depths within, glancing left and right as the soft light of the moons of Irk that had been filtering through the crystal windows in the chapel began to fade away the deeper and deeper he went through the hall. It wasn't long before he was alone with shadows and dust until he caught sight of another door opening at the far end of the hall…ever so slightly, with a faint, squeaking CRRREEEAAAAAK.

Zim blinked a bit, approaching the doorway, a faint, odd pinging, beeping noise slightly ringing through the air with every step he made as he opened the door up.

Odd. Why did it seem…familiar?

Ah well. He kept inching towards the doorway, the odd beeping noise continuing in the background as he obviously kept moving forward.

Beep.

…Beep…

……Beep…

…………Beep…………