SOOOO SORRY THAT THIS IS SO LATE PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND DON'T HURT ME WELL OKAY YOU CAN HURT ME BUT PLEASE LEAVE MY LIMBS INTACT!! I've had rEaLLy bad writer's block...Mmyep. Umm, okay. This chapter is a little...odd. But I SWEAR that next chapter, you will begin to see Tak's new personality shape. Why did I suddenly make the subject Tak? Because more interesting things will be happening to her in the next few chapters, I believe, and I am really trying to make this interesting. Sorry if this chapter is a little too dark, but right now, as these two Irkens are growing, they are experiencing many more emotions, I suppose, and I really like writing...different STUFF.

ON WIT DA CHAPTER, HERE ARE YOUR HERRINGS AND EMPTY ROOT BEER CANS!!

Reviewers THIS time will get...

Copper Scrubbing Pads and candles. Confadulations.

~ME

P.S. Sorry for the short chapter.

The guard prodded Zim's back with his spear.

"HEY!" The female protested, rubbing her back. 'Jee, it's still nice place' she thought bitterly. "How DARE they treat the almighty ZIM in such a way..." She said just loud enough to be heard by the guard, still headstrong and loud after 19 months of prison.

Sentenced for the burning of an entire Academy and the deaths of more than a few dozen Irkens, she had no chance of getting out any time soon. Tak, however, had a chance of release; considering her history of being obedient and docile, it had been decided that she would be allowed to leave soon, and that only served to piss Zim off even more.

It was afternoon and they were being escorted back to the cell they shared by a positively /charming/ guard, who would hit them or prod them for no reason whatsoever. When they were thrown in the tiny cell, they as usual ended up with either their heads or their backsides hitting the ground hard.

Tak rubbed her head. "Owww... Man, I just can't wait to get outta here, you know?"

Zim snarled just a little, her already bad mood made worse. "Yeah, well, at least you won't have this on your record! Because you were deemed to not be a part of the virus, it won't end up being on your record, and you'll actaully have a chance to become an Invader..." She said bitterly, glaring at the wall so as not to meet Tak's eyes.

"An Invader? I'm not so sure. More like an Elite Soldier, and if the need should arise, then I'd become an Invader." Tak said, rather gloomily. She wanted to tell Zim so badly that she would find a way to get them both out, no matter what. She wanted to be forgiven; she had been meek and quiet her whole life, and only now was she becoming what would define her future. She curled up, too alert to actually fall asleep. She'd rather just lay there and enjoy the silence that was so special in the prison. Most of the time they were working, each having their respective jobs, or eating, and then there was always the sound of machines and Irkens and fighting and despair, for there were those Irkens who had been bent so far they've broken.

Zim had never bothered to really listen, to really take in her surroundings. She thought herself higher than the other prisoners, and any that opposed her would meet a spork, Zim's new weapon. Why a spork? For Zim had faith in the most under-rated utensil in the universe. A faith that no one quite understood, but now respected.

Tak, however, had decided to keep a low profile in the prison. It was easier that way. She had reverted back to old ways and become quiet and respectful. Because of this, she was another face lost in the crowd, no one really knew her. She liked it that way. Sure, she was pushed and shoved, but though she put on a guise of not caring about the oppression, deep inside she was formulating a plan, for even if she would get out before Zim, it would be at least 30 or more years. Hence, the good behavior and cavity-formingly-sweet dispostion. Tak kept a quiet mouth and a quiet mind; new thoughts always formed, new plans, new methods.

She was smarter than she made herself out to be, and in the beginning the guards had suspected her. But after a few months, they had decided that she was just another normal Irken being, albeit a quiet one.

The was one problem about being so quiet. The sounds and the voices that she heard at night, that no one else could. Or, perhaps the others did hear the sounds, but decided to drown them out with endless chatter, endless banters. But Tak and Zim rarely talked now; Zim was pissed, and decided to let the world know by ranting about the unfairness of it all during lunch. Most just passed by her, but some threw rotten food at her, or just got in an argument to kill time.

Tak heard scratching in the walls again; she curled up tighter. She always heard the same scratching, that sounds that always sounded like creatures moving in the walls. She imagined Slaughtering Rat People coming out at night and devouring prisoners one by one, she imagined the screams. She didn't know what the sounds were, and that worried her. But what worried her most were the thoughts in her head. When had she become so morbid, so paranoid? It was, after all, probably just janitorial Irkens cleaining the vents, or small bugs. But then what explained the missing Irkens? In the morning, there was always a missing Irken.

The guards never bothered to check the walls.

The scratching was, indeed, caused by movement. The walls had been carved out over the years by stolen eating utensils by prisoners, and after such a long time, the wall-road to freedom was complete. Every night, one Irken would go through, right after telling someone whom they trusted completely. The next night, the Irken who had been trusted with the information would tell a prisoner whom they trusted and escape, so on and so forth. This way, all of the trust-worthy Irkens were free. They could not risk letting word get out.

It was astounding to think that Irkens who were not even fully grown had come up with the idea. This prison was actually the Irken equivalent of Juvenile Hall.

What was more astounding is that no one but the escapees had a clue it even existed, and the only reason that the guards had never checked the walls was because prisoners made up phony tales of seeing giant rodents come out of a vent at one time or another, or heard a terrible shriek, or woken in the morning to see gray fur in their cell.

The Irkens who designed the railroad in the first place later became scientists, and were currently designing weaponry for Operation Impending Doom. But they needed help in making things blow up like they were supposed to; they decided to visit jails, and rescue inmates that had been put there for blowing things up.

Their latest target was a short, red-eyed female who had designed what was now considered the most powerful computer virus of all time; Zim was soon hailed as a hero in underground communities and amongst weapon designers all around Irk.

Of course, she had no idea of this. She was, in fact, stewing in anger, making up more and more reasons to hate Tak.

Tak was shaking as she listened to the scratching in the walls, the crawling, the clawing. She imagined a rodent sticking its long, furry snout out of the vent, whiskers bristling. She shivered and shut her eyes tightly. She had never been truly afraid in her life; only anxious. But she was experiencing fear, she knew it, and she was ashamed.

She heard a hiss break the silence; she lay stock-still, eyes widening with fear. Another hiss, this time louder. It was coming closer, the rodent was coming closer, she could imagine the feel of whiskers softly brush her back. A hiss, a growl. She whimpered softly. She screamed when she felt something brush her back.

Suddenly, raucous laughter, cackling that could belong only to Zim. Tak jumped to her feet, horrified that Zim would do such a thing. Their eyes met, Zim's shining with laughter and glee, Tak's set in a glare. She said nothing; she didn't feel the need to. The violet-eyed female merely stalked to the corner of the room, and curled up once again, eyes closed, yet mind still conscious.

SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF THIS HELL HOLE!! She screamed in her mind, wanting out of this place that provided nothing but fear and hopelessness. She wanted to scream. There was always so much noise, yet there was never any reason for it. There was incessant noise and deafening silence, for the noise was never heard by her antennae. This was a juvenile prison, yes. But most ended up growing up and getting moved to a regular prison if they weren't released. Prisons on Irk, no matter whom they were designed for, adults or children, were brutal and awful, the air full of shame and fear.

Over 82 percent of all inmates were deemed defects and shut down. There was no escaping it. All acts were considered traitorous, and because of this, depending on the severity of the case, those who committed them would be 'justly' punished. Most were executed. It was not spots off their Pak; executing another Irken would only mean one less mouth to feed. The Empire believed that Irkens ran only by their Paks; they never thought of their brains. The Pak was nurtured, and information was downloaded into it. The brain was left to rot.

This was the only reason why an Irken needed a Pak to survive. Plus, the government was given full-power due to the fact that no Irkens had the ability to think independently. Well, some Irkens could.

These were the criminals. These were the 'defects'. These were the ones that would, in the very distant future, carry out a revolution that would shake the foundations of Irk.

But for now, Tak, who had no idea of her future, dreamed of fighting, violence, blood and weapons, death and fire, in a world where war was fought on your doorstep and laws had disappeared long ago.

She awoke to a gruff voice explaining that as of now, she was free.

Violet eyes opening, the girl sat up groggily and yawned widely. Zim was glaring at her, feeling betrayed. Tak gave her a lingering look and sighed sadly.

Her hearts hardened; life would go on, and she had much training to attend. Not even her friendship with Zim would stop her from reaching her dreams. She had an Empire to serve, and that was where her loyalties lie.

To the Empire, for the Empire, she thought as she breathed in the scent of freedom. She vowed to change from the meek, quiet Irken she had been.

She set her sights Southward, where the underground military training units resided. She threw her past to the wind; there was no need for memories now. She'd rather forget Zim.

*