"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you." - Friedrich Nietzsche

When Dib thought about it, he realized that his final, fateful decision had been made due to advice coming from a source countless light-years away. A very, very unreliable source.

"Oh, yeah, the Irken Pak is a nasty little device," Prisoner 777 had informed him. "It was meant to connect to a brain without any personality of its own, of course. Strictly speaking, it's not 'compatible' with anything that houses a consciousness already, so it overrides and destroys it. Hooks into the brain stem, takes control of the mind, eventually overwriting the host's original personality completely, if the Irken personality so chooses. The creature, in essence, becomes the dead Irken. Pretty HORRIBLE for the host. Unimaginable terror! Hee!"

Dib looked at him skeptically over the communications link, frowning at the screen. Zim's Vortian, erm, "contact" had obviously been a mind of great creative force once, according the computer's records. But, now, he seemed a little...off. "I already KNOW that. First-hand." He winced. "What I want to know is this: is there ANY other way to access the Pak's personality?"

"Oooh, right. Well, let me think. Um, no."

Dib gaped. "NOTHING?"

The Vortian chuckled. "Let me rephrase that. Not that I've ever heard of. Too much security in place. Too much protection, so no one can just go in and have access to 'the whole of Irken knowledge.' They have that downloaded into 'em, ya'know, when they're born. But, hey...in case you do decide to make some kind of hideous sacrifice, you should know that it takes at least an hour for any serious permanent changes to take effect. Until then, the host can be easily restored with the removal of the Pak. Mmyep. Oh," he added as he casually flicked a bit of green goop off of his forehead, "and forget about those test animals you've been using...the brain needs to be capable of housing an INTELLIGENT mind, so to speak."

"Right." Dib sighed. "And, um...the Irken personality. Is it..."

"Never degrades, without interference. Technically immortal." Prisoner 777 tasted some of the goop and made a face. "Blech, this prison food is TERRIBLE. Er, terribly delicious, that is! Nope, everything that he is in there. Everything important. Aside from being dead, your frien..." He seemed to notice Dib's expression. "Your, um, your Zim is just fine."

Dib pushed away from the console a little and drummed his fingers against his forehead. There wasn't much time... "Are you sure about all of this?"

Laughter. "No. Not at all. But keep in mind, I've been locked up here for years and years now, and after all that captivity, I've gone pretty crazy. Whoo!"

Later on, Dib figured that if something went terribly wrong, he'd always have the dire circumstances and a genius alien lunatic to blame.

"Welcome back from WHERE, human?"

It's ironic how much of what one uses to identify a person visually pertains to their manner, their habitual expressions, and the way they carry themselves. Actors take advantage of this every day, but it was...disconcerting, to say the least, to see evidence of this in Zita. While nothing (aside from the sinister pink-dotted backpack) had really changed about the way she looked, she was clearly not herself.

Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and shining with malevolence, and the way she was standing was somehow too purposeful, too formal. Dib had never given it much attention, but the way HE always stood, always walked, was undeniably like a soldier. Dib had been so quick to just think of Zim's background as "an alien" and leave it at that. He hadn't really seriously considered what kind of training he must have had, but it should have been obvious that some of it was military in nature.

Of course, Dib already knew for a fact it HAD been, from the base's computer.

"What are you STARING at, Dibstink?"

Dib shook his head and snapped out of it. Zita usually spoke in a slightly slurred but very chipper tone that he tuned out with relative ease. Her angry hiss DEMANDED his attention now...but that's because she isn't Zita anymore. Dib's palms sweat; he felt a smile forming on his face as his thoughts swam with the idea. After two years, she was really...it was really...

"…Zim."

Zim shut...her...eyes in annoyance. "You already SAID that. All right, Earth-filth. I have better things to do than stand here while you...while you...do whatever it is you're doing." She took a step forward...and collided with the glass.

Dib shook his head and grinned.

Zim rubbed her temples and looked around, noticing the lack of an obvious exit from the tube. Suddenly, she shook violently and looked up at Dib. "What is the meaning of this? I DEMAND that you let me out of here!"

Dib tentatively took a step forward, hovering a few inches from the tube. He clutched his hands together so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I can't."

Zim grimaced, spread her fingers, and slammed her hand against the glass in front of her. "Why not? Is your PRIMITIVE dirt brain too inferior to determine how to...how to..."

She stopped, and looked at her hand.

And wiggled all five of her fingers.

"What...what is this?"

Dib's eyes were glued to the ground. He couldn't bring himself to speak much above a whisper. "Please, Zim. Let me explain. I found you a...I mean, I...I put you in a new body."

"WHAT?"

Dib took a deep breath. This REALLY wasn't coming out right. "Your old one wasn't...isn't working."

"It isn't WORKING? What's THAT supposed to mean? Talk sense to ZIM, human."

"It's not working because…" Dib swallowed, thickly. "You're kind of...look, Zim. Technically, you're..."

How do you explain to someone that they've been dead for two years? How do you phrase it in a way that will be understood?

"Your body-shell, Zim. It…expired."

Zim didn't even blink. She just stood there, staring holes through Dib, focusing on something behind him.

Finally, Zim snapped out of it, and scowled. Anger is the opposite of fear. He glared at Dib in annoyance.

"Stop your irritating noise-making, dirt creature! That's ridiculous! ZIM is fine. He's just," she wrenched her hand into a tightly clenched fist, then touched her hair with her other hand. "Just sprouting and…smelly?"

She stared at him. She ripped at a clump of violet hair, wincing, staring at the locks that came out in her hand. She glanced down at herself, horror creeping slowly across her face. Finally, she brought one hand up to her nose, touched it, and inhaled, sniffing unpleasantly. Zim paused and looked up at the ceiling, brow furrowed in concentration; she seemed to be listening to something within, and when she spoke her words were uncertain, strange, and far away.

"You humans are so DIGUSTING...you smell terrible, even to yourselves. No wonder..." She reached down and felt at the lobe of Zita's ear, which was pierced through with a tiny gold earring. "No wonder you feel the need to DISFIGURE yourselves so..."

Dib blinked.

A slightly bitter laugh. Zim tapped the earring and grimaced. "How RIDICULOUS. It healed over once. She REMOVED the puncturing-metal and had to WOUND herself a second time. All in the name of your Earth fashions...you pathetic, fragile little worms." Zim ran her fingers along the ear slowly, closing her eyes, a nasty smile playing on her lips. "This ear got INFECTED once, and she cried like a SMEET at the puss and the fluids. It bled and bled and wouldn't heal for WEEKS..."

A chill ran up Dib's spine. ...what? How could he... Zim interrupted his half-formed thoughts, locking onto his face again, her eyes slitted, all traces of sadistic humor gone. There was something primal and old and vengeful quivering through her as she spoke...

"WHAT...did...you...do."

"I'm s-" The word caught on Dib's tongue. "Zim, listen. Let me explain."

Zim stepped back, raised both hands, and then THREW herself against the glass in front of front of Dib as hard as possible. The entire tube shook. Her eyes were wide, her teeth clenched. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

Dib stumbled back, muttering. "Zim, it was an...an accident. Well, at least at FIRST, it was. Sort of. Torque Smacky...HE really did it. You remember him..."

Zim drew back, brown eyes slowly widening, and then narrowing again. She smiled as disturbingly as Dib could have ever imagined her doing. Zim's madness, if that's what it was, was so much more evident through Zita's innocuous features...like illness seen more clearly beneath pale skin. "Oh, I DO remember."

Dib let out a breath that he'd held too long. "Yeah, he was in class with us. So..."

"I remember 'Foodio' and your wretched FATHER and your baby ghost bees. Mysterious Mysteries, being beaten within an inch of your life by your horrible SISTER...and me." She gripped her head. "Me, me, so much ME that I couldn't untangle us anymore! Couldn't unsnare my mind from YOURS quickly enough to comprehend the situation! Oh, I remember NOW, Dib. I KNOW what you did. You pathetic, stupid, insignificant, troublesome HUMAN!"

Dib fiddled with his scythe, trying to steady himself. FOCUS, Dib. Focus. "Um…"

"YOU." Zim pointed at him. "You...stole my ID Pak. You took my life support. My MIND."

Dib sighed, his composure fraying a bit. "Will you just LISTEN? LISTEN to what happened!" Don't lose your PATIENCE, Dib. "Zim, it was TORQUE! He hit you with a ball, during skool, and it knocked your Pak off. I had no idea what to do; didn't know it was...YOU. At least, not at first. I figured that I could use it against you, or at least keep it from you. So I took it. You were so angry and I... was scared. I picked it up and...and I just ran..."

"I'll KILL you!" Zim's hands rushed forward again suddenly, her hands colliding with the side of the tube again and again. She was trying to break out. "By the Tallest, I shall remove each layer of your putrid flesh ONE STRIP AT A TIME! Oh, if I could only TOUCH you..." One of her hands, curled again into a little ball of hatred, started to bruise; Dib could hear the bones in her knuckles snapping against the material, could see the muscles rippling...

"COMPUTER! Activate the containment system!" Dib's pulse raced and he stumbled further backwards; so much for keeping everything under control. The fine blue energy curled and lashed into his subject, harmlessly but painfully. Zim cried out, long and agonized, and sank to the floor, vines of light coiling around her and stroking her skin. She drew towards the middle, up on her arms, glaring up at him through mussed purple hair and snarling through her teeth.

"I will take you APART. Slow enough for you to FEEL it, DIB. I'll kill you, I'll kill you..."

"SHUT UP. Shut UP, Zim." Dib couldn't take it anymore. Anger surged through him, and he drew himself up fiercely. "You would have done it to ME. If you'd had an opportunity like that. In a SECOND. You wouldn't have even THOUGHT about it. So YES! Yes, I killed you, you moronic, ugly, awful green alien! I wanted to! You wanted to kill me, too! And," an exhilarated, sharp intake of breath, "it was WONDERFUL. So very WONDEFUL. It was the BEST day of my life."

Dib grinned down at Zim. She watched him, silently, from the floor.

"You got into my mind, Zim, yes. Latched into me and tried to overwrite me; I even lost control of myself, for a little while. You seem to remember that, somehow. But luckily, Gaz knocked your dumb Pak off of me before you could DESTROY me." He snorted. "THAT would have been ironic. Anyway, it just clattered to the floor, like a piece of scrap metal. You...well, your body...it tried to put it on, but it was even more INTENSELY STUPID then usual, and couldn't do it in time. I guess the ten minutes had gone by already; your lifeclock was up. By that point, you couldn't even figure out that it needed to go on your back. So you collapsed to the floor and DIED. Just DIED."

Dib grinned for a moment, his eyes alight with victory. "I killed you. I WON!"

He looked at his prisoner, watching the light wrap around her, his smile falling, his face fading to a mask.

"So I watched you die. And...I didn't know what to DO. My first thought was to just tell my Dad everything, hand both the Pak and your body over to someone, I don't know who," he hesitated to mention the Eyeballs. "But I wasn't sure what I should do; I hadn't thought things through clearly enough. Who should get you? How would I know that I would get credit, privileges...how would I know if I would ever see the fruits of...my work..." He looked at his hands again. "So I took you up to my room. I told my Dad that you had fainted. A 'medical condition' people from your country often suffered from. I told him I would look after my 'friend.'" Dib frowned. "He just accepted it. I doubt Gaz did, but she never cared, anyway. And no one noticed that I had an alien corpse in my closet, either...at least, they never said anything about it. I looked at it every day. Your eyes were still open, but there was nothing in them. Black. Dead. Staring at me. Nothing."

Zim stirred, weakly. "You bore me, human."

Dib smiled down at her. "But the PAK was alive. So YOU weren't dead, not really. I KNEW. And it occurred to me, eventually, that I couldn't very well hand over a dead alien. I mean, what a disappointment! A LIVE alien, who could talk about his culture and his technology and what he's seen...would be so much more impressive than a simple body!" Dib smiled evilly. "So much more INTERESTING; more worthy of media attention and prolonged, well-funded study! You even figured that out in your stupid holo-simulation. So I tried to re-attach the Pak to you. I thought it might REVIVE you, somehow. But...but nothing..."

"How long did you wait?" She almost sounded sarcastic.

"Um, well...two weeks."

Zim shook her head. "BRILLIANT, Dib. What until my cellular structure has already begun to DEGRADE in your PATHETIC Earth atmosphere. The recently dead are one thing; had you done it immediately, it would have worked. But the Pak is not infused with your...magically-Earthy...superstitious nonsense. You can't expect to slap it onto anything and have it spring to LIFE..."

Dib raised an eyebrow. There's no TIME for this! Remember what's about to happen! Stop dawdling and get down to business! "Aren't you even curious as to WHY I brought you back, Zim? Do you think I'd do all of this by MYSELF if I were only concerned with a live specimen instead of a dead one? That I wouldn't ask for help from anyone? I went to a LOT of trouble. I brought your body and your Pak both here, I managed to hack into your system and take control of your computer and...and the entire base. I've been trying EVERYTHING to get them to re-connect or to find some other way of talking to you." He bent over slightly, the exhaustion of the ordeal finally sinking in. "It's been a LONG time, Zim. Two years. I came here every day, for HOURS, not sleeping. I even told my family I'd joined the marching band. Again, Gaz didn't believe me, but she beat me up for being a 'band geek,' anyway."

She didn't look at him, and spoke quietly. "I KNOW why you did it, Dib."

Dib tilted his head, looking nervous. "Oh, really?"

"It's very simple," she grinned. "You're too WEAK. I KNEW you couldn't kill me. You pitiful humans are just...too...WEAK. Pitiful things; even in the simulation, you couldn't do it. With all your 'powers,' you couldn't FINISH it like you should have. A mighty IRKEN would no such compunctions."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm so impressed that your PEOPLE don't mind MURDERING others. But, I already know Irkens have no mercy, or guilt, or any other 'inferior wormbaby emotions,' ZIM. Your...oh, I'm sorry, I mean MY computer has been a wonderful source of information."

Dib ignored the angry glare this earned him, and turned his gaze inwards, frowning. He began cautiously. "You know, your crazy little robot said something to me once. Before you 'died.' It was after we hadn't seen each other in a while...I don't suppose you remember the circumstances?"

"Where IS that HORRIBLE SIR unit, anyway?" Zim said, ignoring the question and glancing around the room, then back in Dib's direction. "I suppose you've dissembled him?" he asked in a tone that could have been concerned, or angry, or relieved, or anything.

"No," Dib looked back at her, trying to read her expression. "He was...well, he was very friendly at first, to tell you the truth. He just wanted a Suck Monkey, so I bought him and that floating moose some freezey slush and taquitoes and they didn't bother me for awhile. But then, well, I guess they must have figured out that I'd done something to you somehow, because they started attacking me. The moose just kind of floated around and squeaked and bumped into me, which was more ANNOYING than anything else, but...his name's GIR, right? Man, Zim, I had NO IDEA he had all those weapons and stuff." Dib wiped his forehead. "Wow. And his eyes started turning red. He was hard to take down, but I eventually DEACTIVATED him...and, um, MINIMOOSE, too. But they're...fine. You can have them back, after…afterwards."

"Ah," Zim looked back at her feet. "Well, I'm certain there's some kind of a POINT to all this? Something you WANT?"

"Well...yes," he admitted, sighing. "I need to stop putting this off. Zim, I need your help. And I'm willing to make a deal with you."

"My help? Doing WHAT? Snapping your feeble neck, crushing your filthy body? Gladly!"

Dib growled at the back of his throat. "I need you to help me save the Earth."

"Heh. I can't believe it, but I actually feel sorry for Zita. My laughter may puncture her lungs."

"Very funny, Zim. Listen, you don't have much of a CHOICE in the matter...and it's not as though you haven't done it before! Besides, if you help me, you'll get your body back. I'll do EVERYHTING in my power to fix yours or SOMEhow get you a new one. You'll be free. You can even work with me, and help me do it. If not...well, there's no way I'm letting you KEEP Zita. She's a jerk, but she's innocent. This is just a temporary fix so that we can communicate. If you'll just agree to it, I can fill you in now, explain what's going on, and then we can figure out another way to talk to each other... "

"Sacrificing your fellow humans for the good of the planet, Dib? Or did her annoying WHINING in class just become too much to STOMACH? Her stupidity too much for your SUPERIOR mind to tolerate?"

Dib shifted uncomfortably. "It was the only way...there's an outside threat, and you're the only one who..."

"Not PERSONAL at all? Not even about the Crazy House for Boys incident?"

"Zim," Dib began dangerously.

"You could've just let me have YOUR body again, after all. And being inside YOU, frankly, would be DELICIOUS, relatively speaking." She tapped delicately between her own eyes. "There's not much in here, you know...the most interesting thing is probably staring at the back of my OWN HEAD for a year. I would actually PREFER having you. But you wouldn't do something so terrible to YOURSELF..."

Dib ignored the pain in his chest and his own growing curiosity; he resolved to try to figure out how Zim had such easy access to Zita's memories later. "I'm afraid that we wouldn't be able to accomplish anything PRODUCTIVE together with you trying to take over my mind."

Zim steepled her fingers in front of her mouth. She grinned. "Point TAKEN. Well, no DEAL." She waved him off dismissively. "I'd rather ROT than help you Earth filthies anymore."

"You don't have a choice, Zim. I didn't want to threaten you, but if I have to, I will." He put his hands against the tube and leaned forward, leveling his gaze at her.

Zim shook her head. "What are you going to do to me, Dibmonster? KILL me? Oh, wait, you already DID that!"

"Listen, space boy," Dib snarled. "If you refuse, I won't just let you rot. I could just rip you apart, like I SHOULD have in the first place, but even that would be more mercy than you deserve, Zim. You're the would-be murderer of my species; you won't get any compassion from me. And I'll FIND a way to make you suffer. I'll pick through your mind, make you FEEL and THINK and BE anything I WANT. The Pak is MINE now, Zim. MY property, my discovery, my specimen! I WON it; I can do ANYTHING I want with it, to it..."

"You...CHILD." Zim dared to approach the side of the tube again, reactivating the containment system in the process. She placed her hands on Dib's through the clear material as her face moved close to his, her nose touching it in front of his lips; blue lightening crackled through her. She trembled and gasped, but didn't fall or retreat. "You inferior, ignorant CHILD!" Zim pointed a shaking hand at her back, her features contorted with pain; he could have SWORN there were tears in her eyes... "This is not your TOY! This is not your POSSESSION! This is EVERYTHING THAT I AM!"

"And what are you going to DO about it? Kill ME?" Dib gasped, and raised a hand to quickly cover his mouth. "But wait! That's right! You're just a tacky-looking little pink EGG, aren't you? How silly of me! You can't THREATEN me. What would you do? Concoct an ingenious and sinister plan to pose as an inconspicuous Earth doorstop, or perhaps, horror of horrors, a paper weight? Or maybe you'll MARKET yourself to kids everywhere as a trendy skool accessory; just part of your MIGHTY plan to become the most powerful backpack in the universe!" He tilted his head back and looked at her derisively. "You're powerless, IRKEN. You're MINE. You have to help me. You've got no choice."

Zim writhed, unable to stand the pain anymore, looking as if she might black out. She stepped out of the interlacing energy, steadied herself, and closed her eyes.

The Pak made a strange, whirring noise. Something high-pitched, an almost screeching sound….No. Dib had locked the Pak's "tools" and weapons, obviously, to prevent her from using them…but she must have known something about its inner workings that he didn't. Zim's eyes snapped open and she smiled, sloughing off Dib's precautions easily.

The spider legs unfolded awkwardly in the small container. They bent and twitched and scraped against the sides, the sharp tips curling in towards Zita's small body like cat's claws. The Pak held her, the girl smiled, and as a leg moved towards her Dib wondered briefly why he'd never found himself impaled on one of those talons…

"Dib. You should never have placed her in here with me."

Zim closed her eyes as the tip began to dig into her neck. Dib stared for a few shocked seconds too long as the blood began to flow from where it pressed into the pale skin, running down her neck and soaking her dress…

"…SHIT." Dib looked up frantically. "COMPUTER! Disengage! Now, NOW!"

"Yes, Master. FINALLY." The computer reached down with its tendrils, wrapping deftly through the legs and grabbing hold of the Pak; reaching into and securing it. It wrenched the Pak out and off with a sickening snap, the legs retreating in a flash as it did so. Zita screamed angrily; then her expression flattened. Her eyes opened, glanced frantically around the room, and rolled back into her head. The girl's body convulsed violently as she collapsed against the tube, her skull cracking back against one of the sides before she slid, finally, into a puddle on the floor. Dib pressed a button that raised the tube up into the ceiling and ran towards her, almost tripping over himself in his rush to do so.

"Zita!" Dib crouched down and gathered her up into his arms. He bit his lip as he gazed down into her face. Still breathing.

"Computer, run a scan on Zita!"

It obeyed, and displayed a summary of her condition on a holographic screen in front of him. He sighed with relief; she had a shallow neck wound and her head looked a little bruised, but aside from that and a few other minor, easily-healed injuries, she was fine. Dib looked away from her and back at the ceiling.

"Computer, is Zim…is the Pak okay?"

"Analyzing."

"Hurry up," Dib snapped. "And be CAREFUL with it!"

"All riiight. Relaaax. It's fine, Master. Sheesh."

Dib collapsed backwards father onto the floor, still clutching Zita in his arms. As he examined her neck, he reflected, sullenly, that he couldn't really blame Zim for what he had said, or what he had tried to do.

He would fix this. He HAD to. And if the girl was unusable now, well…

There were always other bodies.