God, I'm on holiday, but it sure as hell doesn't feel like it! I've been running around like a crazy person trying to sort out things! So to peoples who are sending me messages and such and such, I apologize for taking a while to reply ^^; I should be a bit more free in the next couple of days.
At least I have time to update stuff (lik my stories) and I have also posted a few new pics on DA if you guys are interested :)
My goal for this fic is to reach 300 reviews so I urge you guys to PLEASE! Review! (this is SPARTA!) XD Yeah, couldn't help myself there (3
Zim spent the night alone in his labs, Skoodge staying upstairs staring blankly at the snow-filled TV screen as his mind tried piecing together Zim's strange new attitude. Nothing fit where it needed to. Nothing made sense anymore. Ten years. Things had not gotten better but they hadn't gotten worse! Perhaps that was it. Nothing had changed in Zim's mind during these ten long years.
But then…why did it need to be the Tallest to spark of this new change? Because they started it? Because Zim just felt now was the time?
What was happening? And what could Skoodge and the Computer do to stop it?!
When morning eventually arrived, Zim was still found in his labs, not having moved an inch from when he had seated himself in his favourite chair. His eyes were shut tightly; his hands were interlinked upon his lap. His look was blank but his mind was summersaulting, thoughts and ideas and reasoning trying to make itself known within him. Every once in a while, he would give a slight blink, an irritating or negatively skewed thought entering the exhausted and strained mind of his. He tried shaking it off and moved on to another more complex puzzling idea that involved a more positive outlook. But as the night progressed, those thoughts were getting harder and harder to find.
He looked up, his antennae picking up movement in the attic. Skoodge snapped awake from his relaxed laze upon the couch, falling off of it in a thud. He moaned, rubbing his head.
He enjoyed napping in the lounge when he got the chance, especially after a long night of complicated thinking. But a rude awakening was always the down side of sleeping. He got to his feet just as the elevator leading from the labs opened up, "Skoodge, come on."
Skoodge stumbled over to his comrade, a bit taken aback at the moment. The elevator reached the attic within a few seconds. The two stepped out and were greeted by two Irken Elite soldiers, weapons in hand. They didn't hesitate, "Are you Irken Zim?"
"Yes, I am Zim," he took a step forward.
"Come with us. We are here to take you to Planet Molton for your meeting with Emperor Scarlet," the other confirmed.
Zim looked at Skoodge who had a quiet panic in his eyes, "Well, Skoodge. It has been interesting. Look after the base while I'm gone." He was careful in his wording, not even suggesting whether or not he was going to make it back, just that he wanted his base to be looked after in his absence.
Skoodge noticed this immediately and the panic grew, "Come back in one piece, please."
His lifelong 'friend' smirked, Skoodge seeing a glimpse of his former self in that smugness, "Zim will be back as better Irken than ever seen before, don't you worry about it."
Well, he was referring to himself in the third person again, the first time in two years. This was both a good and bad thing. Skoodge's frown grew, feeling helpless, a crushing worry in his chest.
Zim walked with the soldiers into the large ship, the doors immediately shutting behind him as soon as both feet had touched down into this metal death trap. He looked around, breathing in that all too familiar smell of fresh Irken machinery. This model was new.
These soldiers, being as cold and unfeeling as ever, moved swiftly towards their seats and positions near the controls. Zim found his way over to a seat near the rear of the ship and quietly took it, strapping himself in. The Irken soldiers activated some form of cloaking shield over the ship and began activating the main thrusters, getting ready for their take off. Lights blinked around the ship as Zim felt the ship leave the ground. A warming smile beamed off his sunken face as they took off, a pulse flowing through his body and sinking into his stomach. He missed that feeling. That 'adrenaline rush' as humans called it. He sat back, his eyes half open as his smile disappeared. This was it. His last chance.
He knew what he was doing would mostly likely end in him being killed. He knew that he couldn't possible trust those monsters he once called 'My Tallest'. He knew he was going against Skoodge's wishes and was being incredibly selfish as this point in time. He knew.
But he had spent ten years locked away in his labs, trapped on a planet he hated surrounded by filthy worthless humans…he didn't want to believe that death was the way out. He wanted to believe that taking a chance was the way out.
What if this worked? What if this is what changed the course of where his life was heading? He was waiting for something big like this to happen for years now. If he passed it up, what else did he have to live for? How much longer could he wait?
He shut his eyes. This is what the mighty Zim has been reduced to. A thrill-seeker who enjoys playing with fire. Irk, how did this happen?
He knew how this had happened, but he would never really admit to it.
His upper lids moved to reveal more of his scenery, looking over at the approaching soldier. The armoured Irken stood before him, dressed in one of the finest uniforms Zim could imagine, "Irken Zim. We will be arriving Planet Molton in a few minutes."
"Fine," Zim muttered, looking away. Damn, this ship really was one of the top models if they were arriving in a distant galaxy within minutes, wasn't it?
"You are required to wear a Representative's uniform for this meeting, provided by the Empire on your behalf."
Zim's antennae perked, his look remaining the same, "Understood."
"Come with me," the soldier turned, heading down a purple lit corridor in front of them. Zim unstrapped himself and followed him slowly, feeling like such a stranger now. No familiar converse, no recognition of him as a person. It was hurting his vanity now, but he knew he had enough strength to take it.
The walk felt long and never-ending. Zim felt cold the further he went into it. It was so closed and badly lit; it reminded him of when he first tried repairing his base. Passages and corridors beneath the house were caved in with blinking lights and leaking pipes. He nearly got trapped in search of a tunnel leading down to his labs where most of the equipment he needed lay.
The soldier finally led him into a room lit in red. A small room, covered in vents and fans lined with wired meshes. The solider went over to one of the side lockers and began riffling through it. Zim stood by the steel-like door frame, rubbing his arms. It was near freezing in here. The soldier turned around and handed Zim his outfit: a black fitted body suit type thing along with a long collared, sleeveless coat that reached the floor. Zim looked at it, rather confused by this outfit. Even by Irken standards, this was pretty ugly.
"Your boots and gloves are in the locker from where I got that. Get changed in twenty minutes or less, then prepare yourself for landing."
The solider began walking past him. Zim called out to him, "Hang on."
Emotionless, he turned, "What is it, Irken Zim?"
"The Tallest said I would be briefed on what I needed to do and say to the Emperor during our meeting," Zim said boldly, noting the half-confused look the soldier was now sporting.
He nodded slightly, "They informed us that all you needed to do was be silent and follow what the Emperor said. Nothing more."
With that, he continued his stride down the long and narrow corridor.
Zim stood there, feeling something was not right here. He shut the door and tossed the clothing onto the floor, having nowhere else to put it. The red light and slight shake the ship gave every once in a while was giving Zim a headache, but he chose to ignore it, taking off his purple loose fitted shirt and pulling down his dark navy jeans. He brought up the body suit and gave it a strange look. Then began pulling it on. It fitted him tightly. The Tallest failed to realize that over the years, Zim had gotten taller, something he and Skoodge – who had also grown a little taller, but still a lot shorter than Zim – were rather surprised about. But around important things like his stomach and arms, it fitted normally. Zim was very skinny, a side effect from skipping meals and not getting much exercise. He grabbed the large coat and flung it on, the extravagant collar annoying him already. He pulled on the black boots – just like the ones he used to wear as an Invader– and the ruby pink gloves next to them.
He gave a sigh, shifting himself in different positions and postures as he stood, trying to get comfortable in this awkward outfit.
Some things were troubling him. One thing was for sure. This was not what Irkens wore when they were representing Irk or the Armada. This was far from it, actually. He looked down at the gloves, flipping his hands in all directions. Where have I seen this before? Who wears this outfit? It looks familiar but…
"Irken Zim, take your seat," the intercom above him rang. His suspicious look grew as he turned, heading down the hallway once more, his coat turning dramatically much to Zim's annoyance. That was another thing bothering him. He was instructed to simply follow what the Emperor told him to do.
No Irken representative, especially one meeting with one of Irk's most hated enemies, would do such a thing. Irkens were too proud for that.
Zim reached his seat and buckled himself in, his look growing as cold as the room he had just come from. Surely if they were closing in on Planet Molton, things would be getting warmer, not colder. Their planet was named that for a reason. Their atmosphere was boiling and could melt the skin off your bone.
Yet the inside of the ship was like a freezer. And no matter how advanced it was, it couldn't match that to the heat Planet Molton gave off…right? He could understand if the outside was somehow made cooler to counteract the heat, but…not the inside. Irkens had no control over that.
The soldiers didn't seem to be effected at all, but they were wearing their suits. They were programed to protect Irkens from all elements.
Zim grabbed his seat's edges, unfortunately losing his thought as the ship shook violently. He gave a look, now understanding why the ship was so new: most ships, Irken or otherwise, were never able to make it past the atmosphere of Planet Molton unless it was made on Planet Molton itself. This is why the Armada could never properly invade it.
The Planet was lined in thick smog created by years of rising smoke and sulphur-like gases. Any strong enough metals which could penetrate this nature-made force-field were incredibly expensive and near-impossible to find.
The Irken vessel shook more, alarms going off. The once calm, monotone soldiers were now barking orders into transmitters, yelling for guidance and help! Metal grinded. The smoky smell of an engine overheating filled the air. Zim shut his eyes, holding on tightly, gritting his teeth. Damn it.
The ship had had to have hit a flat surface, Zim guessed, with a heavy chilling thwack. Zim yelled as his head hit the back of his titanium seating rather hard. He then was launched forward, the strap snapping as the ship jerked to a stop. He was sent flying down the corridor and hit the door – which he had thankfully shut after he walked out – at the end of it. Had he left it open, at the speed he was going at, he would have broken through the netting covering the vents and would have ended up minced.
After a few silent moments, sense came back to the poor Irken, his eyes opening. The alarms blurred in a dimmed tone as he tried getting to his feet. He crawled his way down the corridor, leaning against the wall which was currently doing most of the work.
When he reached the end of the passage, he looked to his left, hoping to find the soldiers up and trying to get the ship back into gear. But what he found was two dead men, green oozing blood covering the controls in front of them. Zim's eyes shook in fear. Damn it!
He quickly turned as white sizzling beams broke through the metal walling that had been the door leading out of the ship. Someone was breaking in.
The door was violently kicked open and in walked three fierce Red-Winged Minions. Zim stood frozen. They looked more horrifying in person. They saw the Irken and toothy grins consumed their faces, "Are you the…" the one started, clearing his throat, before continuing that thought, "The Representative sent from Irk?"
Zim took a moment, still trying to comprehend what he was seeing. He stepped forward towards them after this hesitation and composed himself somewhat, "I am he. You are to address me as Invader Zim. I am the Representative from Irk, sent by Tallest Red and Purple." An introduction he was sure needed to be made in such a manner to show these beasts he meant business. But they didn't even seem to acknowledge any of it. The men just looked at one another and nodded, "Come with us, little man."
They jumped out, Zim slowly following. He looked back one last time at the dead Irkens, something twisting within him, before he continued onward.
Zim emerged from the near unrecognizable ship and looked around in amazement. He had never laid eyes on Planet Molton before, only ever seeing glimpses of it in pamphlets and postcards in Malls.
A well-built civilisation filled with hanging cities and homes. The ship had crashed onto one of the floating highways used by the monstrous ships used by these creatures.
What made this place truly awe worthy was its stunning crimson sky, the colour being created by the red hot sun infamously known by all galactic races, including Zim's. Its strong light managed to break through the smog and created a colour Zim never imagined possible.
The men opened up their neatly tucked away wings, the span being three times their own large sizes. Zim was convinced now on who these men were. The bigger the wings, apparently, the higher up in rank they were. These men were obviously soldiers.
Two flew off, heading towards one of the hanging castles, that being most likely where the Emperor was presiding.
The other grabbed Zim's coat and took off, the poor Irken trying desperately not to scream as he went.
Remember Zim, you don't have a fear of heights. You have a fear of falling...so hang on tight!
Well, I am off to finish more work. Check in with you guys later! :)