The revolt was small. Impetuous. Crazy. Much like Zim himself, who now glaring at several view-screens from the steel desk at which he sat. He was greatly displeased with the images flashing before him, though usually the site of human suffering was a pleasurable experience.

"Why is this still happening?! Haven't those filthy little stink beasts figured out how doomed they are?" he hissed, pounding a black-gloved fist on the desk. Revolts like this should have ceased when BrainStem had been shut down. Zim's pupiless eyes narrowed, and a sly grin arched across his face.

"Pitiful... Did they really think an operation such as BrainStem could fell my armies? Sad to think that so many of my clones had to be wasted on that ridiculous uprising," he muttered to himself. Then why had they lasted so long? Zim hated to admit it, but his former nemesis had done a commendable job at resisting him. But it didn't matter anymore. Dib was carefully locked away and no one could possibly infiltrate his finest security.

Far from the office, and even from Zim's grand throne room, there was built a large containment center. Inside were rows upon rows of tubes, all containing anyone who had been deemed too much of a threat to keep in prison. Amongst the rows of human bodies frozen in their glass containers was a slightly older Dib. Suspended in some sort of Irken preservative, his eyes gazed at nothing, a look of total despair on his face. Zim had left him that way on purpose. The small alien often wandered down the halls of the containment center when he was bored, stopping to relish the wonderfully defeated look on his former enemy's face. Zim still remembered when that expression had been fresh and new, a few seconds before the tall boy wearing a trench coat was lowered into the vat of fluid.

No one regularly visited the Containment Center accept for occasional janitors who swept the dust from the floor and cleaned the surface of the tubes. The halls were dark and ominous that evening, but not empty. Scuffed boots bumped carefully across the floor leaving behind small puddles of water as they passed. Gen brushed a stray lock of red hair from her face and pressed on, trying not to throw up at the sight of all the frozen humans.

So...this is what Zim has reduced our race to? That sick, twisted, freak... she thought sadly to herself, vowing that she would complete her mission.

Finally, she reached the tube that had been set apart from the rest. A quick glance at the small plaque at the bottom assured her that is was indeed her leader. "Most foul of stink beasts and most doomed of prisoners," she read it aloud in a soft whisper. The young girl's pale face lifted and she stared into the once bright eyes of her beloved leader. Something inside her stirred with pain as she stroked the glass with a fingertip.

"I'll get you out..."

Heart hammering, Gen pulled a small instrument from her coat with a sucker-like tip at the end. She shoved it into one of the small holes exposing the wiring at the bottom of the tube. Flipping a switch, Gen watched with satisfaction as the container's systems shut down and the lights that illuminated the prisoner's body flickered out. Goo drained from the tank, gently lowering the dripping body to the floor.

"Oh, Dib...look what he's done to you. Our precious leader..." she gasped, putting an ear to his chest. His heart was no longer pumping and his lungs did not expand. "No...No, this can't- Okay...Calm. Down. I know how to help... CPR..." Gen told herself. Taking a breath she leaned closer to his face, her lips falling upon Dib's cold mouth. Gen's heart raced as she breathed life into him, her arms pushing at his chest as she continued their lip-lock. Suddenly, and without warning, Dib's eyes snapped open and he was confronted with the warm lips of a girl pressing against his mouth.