Gaz felt that the strange, round, red eyes were boring into her soul. She felt as if they had stared at each other for hours, but when she realized she was holding her breath she knew it had only been a minute. Dread settled in her stomach at the sight of them. Sure, this… thing had seemingly saved them, but what if it was just for its own gain? Zim had proven to be an attractive target to the army, so was this yet another threat? Maybe this was some other alien coming to get him? She tried to calm herself, and focused on where she was. The sounds of the forest surrounded them, crickets and the wind blowing through the trees. There were hollers and yells from soldiers echoing in the distance. Gaz felt a shiver run down her spine as the cold late September air whipped around her, the smell of old leaves and must filling her nose. She blinked, waiting for the figure in front of her to do something, anything. The red eyes blinked, and Gaz tightened her grip on Zim's hand. In her other hand, she squeezed his useless pistol. At the very least she could throw it at the strange creature if it attacked. The eyes blinked again, looked down, and the sounds of leaves crunching filled the air as the figure adjusted where it stood. It didn't come any closer, but it began to mumble to itself, in a tone that was almost confused.

"Oh now, come on…" A masculine voice drifted into the night air, and the red eyes squinted with frustration. "Where's the- I swear you'd think I'd be able to see- Ah!" A flashlight turned on, shining in the face of the figure, who quickly averted the light away from his eyes. Gaz was only able to get a quick look at his face, all covered in some sort of fur. She felt another quick jolt of fear go down her spine as she realized that whatever this was, it wasn't human. She winced at the beam of the light shining into her eyes, lifting a hand to shield the brightness.

"Oh, sorry." The figure said politely, pointing the flashlight at her feet. "You know, we should get going now, more soldiers are probably coming." The flashlight waved a bit, as if he was beckoning them forward. Gaz finds herself nodding numbly at this, as her subconscious recognizes that what he was saying made sense, and Gir shifts and squeals a hello at the stranger.

"Shh!" The figure scolds. He takes a few steps back, and gestures again with the flashlight for them to follow, the dry leaves crunching underneath every footstep.

"What-" Dib stammers. "What are you?"

"What a rude question." He replies in an offended tone, rolling his luminescent red eyes with annoyance.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm just confused." Dib says. He takes a step forward, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"We'll talk later." The figure huffs. "We need to be quiet."

"But I wanna sing!" Gir interrupts, wiggling in Gaz's grasp.

"Gir!" Zim says, finally focused on the situation at hand. "Kho elaopti!" Gir whimpers, and kicks his feet into the air like a toddler. Struggling to hold him, and feeling her arms grow tired, Gaz hands off Gir to Zim.

"I don't wanna be held!" The robot complains. "Let me go!"

"Shhh!" The stranger sighs, the flashlight swaying as he turned back to face them again. "Can't you keep that thing quiet?"

"It's a little hard." Gaz mutters.

"I wanna walk!" Gir squeals.

"You can walk if you promise to be quiet!" Gaz whispers. Gir nods, whimpering as if he was pleading, and Gaz nods her head for Zim to put him down.

"Alright." The man says. "With that sorted, can we go now?"

Dib crosses his arms, trying to seem intimidating. "That depends. Go where?"

"To somewhere safe. Are you coming?"

"Y-yeah. We are." Gaz finally decided, even though she was secretly nervous. "Come on guys." She walked forward, with Zim quickly following behind her. Dib frowned, but quickly shuffled to follow along.

"Can I hold your hand?" Gir asks. Gaz sighs, tucks Zim's gun into her pocket, and holds her free hand out, the cool metal of Gir's hand wrapping around hers. The group trudges on, following the light held by the figure, the beam swaying side to side as he walked. The sounds of distant soldiers and trucks grow weaker as they walk deeper into the forest, the sticks and leaves crunching under their feet. Gaz winces at the sound, irrationally worried that someone will hear them.

"We shouldn't be following some stranger in the woods." Dib mumbled. "He could be leading us right to the soldiers."

"You don't have to follow me if you don't want to." The figure responded. "But do I look like a soldier to you?" He laughed quietly to himself at his small joke. Gaz was almost shocked that this weird creature had a sense of humor.

"I don't know what you look like!" Dib snapped, but then paused. "But, I guess not…"

"We'll talk later. Quiet." In the corner of his eye, Dib sees Gir hold his finger to his 'mouth' in the universal symbol of 'quiet'. Silence falls in the forest again, and they walk together. In the distance, flashlights and headlights shine through the woods, but they're too far away for the soldiers to see them. After walking quietly for a few more minutes, Gaz speaks up.

"As much as I hate to say this, Dib has a point. Who exactly are you?"

"My name is Phil." He responds casually, not pausing in the slightest.

"Oh." She says, puzzled. "That… that was not what I was expecting." Phil chuckles.

"No one ever does."

"Why were you out here in the woods?" Dib asks. "Are you going to kill us?"

"I live here, and goodness, no!"

"What, in the forest? Like some kind of… hippie?"

Phil scoffs. "Don't be rude. I did just save you."

"Yeah Dib." Gaz says. "Be nice."

"Hang on, how exactly did you do that?" Dib questions.

"Do what?"

"Take out those soldiers?"

Phil sighs. "I'm not proud of it, but a quick strike to the head will do it."

"Oh… yeah I guess so." Dib mutters to himself. The gang continue to walk in silence, stumbling over the occasional log or crevice in the dark, and then suddenly, Phil stops.
"We're here." He says. Gaz looks around in confusion at the dense foliage around them.
"There's nothing here!" Dib exclaims. "Just trees, a-and dirt."
"Well, I'm glad you think that, because that is exactly what I want them to think." Phil tucks the flashlight under his arm, and leans down, pulling a three foot by three foot flat board covered in leaves and other plant life aside. With the slight illumination from the tilted flashlight, they can just see that the fake out plantlife and board were hiding… stairs? A set of metal spiral stairs descended into the darkness below.

"No way!" Dib cried out, taking a step back. "I'm not going down there! You could be a murderer for all we know!"

"I'm not-"
"Dib," Gaz began. "What choice do we have? It's this, or the army. He's helped us so far, and hasn't said a single thing about Zim, so I'm voting this." She took a brave step forward, and stood at the top of the stairs, the hollow sound of her shoes hitting the metal echoing down below her. Phil tapped her arm with the flashlight, and she took it wordlessly.
"I'm going, Dib. You can come, or get caught." With that, she began her descent with Zim and Gir following behind her. Dib was left alone, sputtering to himself in the woods with the strange man.
"I'm not going to kill you." Phil sighed, motioning for Dib to walk down the stairs. "But I do need you to go in so I can close the plant disguise behind us."

"But-"
"Come on, son. Make up your mind." Dib looked at the vague form of Phil, then back at the distant flashlights and headlights of the army, and huffed to himself.
"Fine! But I'm only doing this to protect my sister!" He said, stomping down the stairs, the metal clanging against his steel toed boots.

"Good grief." Phil muttered, quietly walking down after him.

When Phil reached the bottom of the stairs, the three of them, plus Gir, gave him a wide berth as he carefully made his way through the small concrete room to open the lone door. He stood before it, shuffling with a ring of keys, before finally finding the right key, and opening the door. He stepped through it into another dark room, and then turned on a light, illuminating Phil for the group to see for the first time. They stared at him, speechless, and then Dib's jaw dropped, and he shouted in shock.

"What the fuck?"

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

"This is hopeless." Ian grumbles. "They could be anywhere by now." He crossed his arms, and leaned against an army truck, staring off into the darkness of the thick West Virginian woods. They were close this time… So close, and the alien and the membranes got away. Again. Ian sighed, and tightened his arms around him, trying not to shiver in the cold of the night. Alex paced back and forth about twenty feet in front of him, on the phone to someone. Ian watched him with baited breath, as Alex grew more and more agitated.
"You think I don't know that?" Alex hissed into the phone. "Of course I know this is time sensitive! I am very aware!" He paused in his pacing to listen to whoever was on the other end, and Ian just watched. He knew Alex was stressed about his potential promotion, and the fact that this was taking so long was not boding well with how the higher ups viewed him. Ian winced as Alex began to yell into the phone again in frustration. Obviously he wasn't talking to one of those higher ups now, as he would be very fired if he was. Ian looked away, and watched some returning soldiers milling about, annoyed and frustrated by their failures to locate the subject. It's as if he disappeared into thin air.

"Hey!" Ian snapped his head up to watch Alex marching towards the soldiers who were standing around, smoking cigarettes in a clearing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Get off your asses and look for them! They've got to be here somewhere! Make camp to the north of the city! We're not leaving until we turn over every stone, under every log, and inside every nook and cranny! Do you hear me? Hop to it!" Alex gestured for them to move, and the soldiers all quickly put out their cigarettes, fumbling for their guns and flashlights.

"Go on! Move!" Alex huffed in frustration as he watched the soldiers quickly walk away into the dark, stumbling over the fallen foliage and ups and downs of the forest floor. Ian watched as Alex kicked a few rocks in frustration, and ran his hands through his hair in stress. Taking a deep breath, Ian pushed himself off of the truck, and walked over to Alex.

"Hey, are you good?" Alex's head snapped towards him, and he frowned.

"No! No, I'm not! There's a dangerous alien roaming the country, and you ask if I'm okay?"

"Well, I was just-"
"Look, Ian. This is incredibly important! Not just for me, but for the country! With every second that we don't catch this… thing, that's every second that it could be planning to take over, o-or murder the president or something! Christ!" Alex threw his hands in the air in frustration, turning away on his heels to face out towards the woods, grumbling in anger.

"You think he's dangerous?" Ian asked, not even really thinking about what he was saying. Alex looked at him as if Ian had just shot his dog,

"Of course he is! He's an alien, who came here with weapons, probably intent on taking over."

"Well… what if… he isn't?" Alex narrowed his eyes, and gritted his teeth.

"Excuse me?" He growled.

"I'm just thinking… He had the chance to kill people the last time we encountered him, and he didn't. Maybe-"

"Do not tell me you're sympathizing with this monster!" Alex took a threatening step forward, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"I-I'm not! I'm just worried that-" Just then, two soldiers burst into the clearing, yelling complete nonsense at them, and waving their arms wildly in the air in a panic. It startled Ian, and he looked them over for any signs of injuries, and he was relieved to find none, just some disheveled clothing. As they approached they continued to yell out and shout nonsense, at such a pace that he struggled to understand them.

"Woah, woah, slow down!" Ian cried out. "What's going on?"

"We almost caught them!" One soldier pants, leaning down to put his hands on his knees.
"You did? What happened?"
"We were attacked!"
"By the alien?" Alex asks, suddenly looking interested. The soldiers frantically shook their heads, their voices overlapping as they tried to explain.
"Stop! Stop, I can't understand you." Ian said, beginning to get frustrated. "Can uh, you, tell me what happened." He points at one of the soldiers, who takes a deep breath and steadies himself before talking.

"There was this thing! It was… huge!" He gestured with his hands to show the size of the creature, reaching way up above his head. "And had glowing red eyes-"
"Doesn't the alien have red eyes?" Alex asked, beginning to feel as if these two were just complete idiots.
"It wasn't the alien! This thing had, it had wings! It flew in and ripped me clean off the ground!" He exclaimed, animatedly talking with his hands, still breathing deeply as he hyperventilated.
"It had wings." Alex deadpanned. Nevermind about the idiots idea, these two were insane.
"Yes! Obviously it had wings, it was like a… a giant moth!" He finally stopped talking, and just stood to catch his breath, along with the other soldier. Alex and Ian stared at them in silence for a few moments, processing the information.

"Let me get this straight." Ian said, taking a step forward and rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. "You were attacked, not by the alien, but by... mothman."

"Yes!" The soldiers yelled at the same time, devolving again into their frantic talking and explanations of what happened. Alex frowned, and simply turned and walked away, leaving Ian alone with them.
"This night just gets weirder and weirder…" He muttered.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Deep in a concrete bunker underground in West Virginia, Dib was freaking out. He pulled at his hair with his hands, and stuttered and gasped, almost in a panic as he couldn't believe his eyes. His shock began when Phil turned on the light, illuminating a surprisingly well decorated living room, complete with a persian rug, sofas, paintings, and a reading lamp positioned over a comfortable looking armchair. For a room that was so deep underground, it surprisingly smelled clean, with no dust or smell of dampness in the air, the concrete walls of the abode painted in a pleasant and clean beige color. But that's not really what had him in shock. They followed him into the home, and watched as Phil began to calmly make tea in an adjourning kitchen. Dib finally seemed to find his voice, and began to yell at Phil, extending his hands in shock in front of him, as if asking the others if they were seeing what he was seeing.
"I can't believe this! No way!" His eyes were as wide as saucers, and whenever he wasn't talking his jaw fell open in shock. "Y-you can talk and you're… you're… wearing a suit?" He tilted his head in confusion, dropping his hands to his side in an almost defeated manner.
"Tweed looks good on him." Gaz muttered bewilderedly, not even noticing how anxious Zim seemed to have gotten, his antenna twitching while he tapped his foot against the ground rapidly. He crossed his arms, and glared at their rescuer, not saying anything, just observing.

"Thank you, young lady." Phil chuckled, turning back to the kettle that was heating on the stove. "I have always been partial to it. It's quite comfortable, and looked good with my skin tone back in the day." Gaz softly laughed, unable to come up with a response, and just watched him. Phil was tall, taller than Zim even, and had a broad stature. He had a thick brown fuzz covering all of his visible body, almost like hair, or feathers. His fingers were long and thin, ending in insect-like points, but he still had the same basic hand shape as a human. He had two long and fuzzy moth-like antennae sticking out from the top of his head, curling delicately downwards near the ends. They were so long they almost brushed against the ceiling. Large, surprisingly bird-like folded moth wings stuck out from slits in the back of his jacket, the tips of the wings brushing against the ground. The weirdest thing of all was the well tailored tan tweed suit he was wearing, complete with a tie and dress shoes.

"This is insane!" Dib shrieked, beginning to pace back and forth in the small kitchen.

"Seriously, Dib, chill." Gaz said, not able to peel her eyes away from Phil.

"But he's the mothman! The real mothman!"
"Oh, I wouldn't call myself the real one." Phil said casually. "I'm much too young for that." As he waited for the kettle to finish boiling, he pulled out four mugs, placing tea bags into them, and set them aside on the counter.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dib crossed his arms, tucking his hands in his armpits, trying to get his brain to slow down and make sense of what was happening.
"Can I have some waffles?" Gir interjected, finally realizing he could be noisy again.
"No!" Dib responded. "Is there another mothman?" He asked bewildered. Phil shrugged, pouring the hot water into the mugs.

"Could be. I don't know, I've never seen him. The original one might be dead, or never existed at all."

"What, is he like your father?"

"Good God, no." Phil laughed. "My father is buried in Cincinnati."
"What?" Dib's voice raised an octave, as he paced back and forth. "How is he buried in Cincinnati?"

"Well, he lived there, and typically people are buried where they die, young man."

"But… but there have never been any sightings in Cincinnati!"

"Of what?" Phil asked, glancing up to look at Dib, his bright red eyes shining almost mischievously.

"Of mothman!" Gaz continued to stare quietly, not bothering to attempt to shut Dib up, and enjoying the new smell of freshly brewed herbal tea.

"Well I wouldn't think so. I've never seen a mothman in Cincinnati."

Dib growled in frustration, and reached his hands up to pull at his hair. "All my life I've built up the mothman to be this powerful, terrifying cryptid, and here he is, wearing a suit and making jasmine tea!"

"Actually, it's chamomile. You should try it some time, you sound like you need it." Phil offered a mug of steaming hot tea to Dib, but in his anger and frustration, he slapped it out of his hands.

"I don't want your tea!" He yelled.

"Dib!" Gaz broke out of her trance to admonish him.

"Ah, ah, we do not hit." Phil said calmly, not even wincing or looking annoyed. "We use our words. Why don't you grab a mop and a broom, and then you can clean this up." He said, gesturing to the shattered mug and spilt tea.

"I'm not-"

"Yes you will." Gaz hissed. Phil pointed to a small cupboard in the corner of the kitchen.

"Mop and dustpan and broom are in there, Dib." Dib sputtered, and then gave up trying to make his brain work, walking towards the cupboard. Phil turned to Gaz and Zim. "Now, you two can have some tea if you promise not to break my mugs." He joked, picking up two mugs and taking a step towards them.

"What is tea?" Zim asked, taking a small step backwards, looking at Phil with suspicion.
"It's like… It's hot leaf water, I suppose." Phil chuckles. "I promise you it's good. There's many varieties of it, some people take it with sugar-"

"Sugar?" Zim's antenna perked up, and he looked less concerned. "Sugar in the tea?"

"If you'd like. Here, let me put some in for you. Miss, I'm afraid I don't know your name, would you like some as well?"

"Oh, my name is Gaz." She said, still trying to wrap her head around the whole situation. "This is Zim, and that's Gir."

"Hello!" Gir shrieks.

"And I'll only take a little sugar, please, but put a lot in his. He loves the stuff." Phil placed the mugs back on the counter, and reached into a cabinet for a container of sugar.

"How much is a lot?"

"Like, more sugar than tea." Gaz jokes. "It's probably best to let him do it himself." Phil takes a step back, and offers Zim the container of sugar, but Zim doesn't move. He glances at Phil, then at the sugar, and then back at Phil. Gaz opens her mouth to ask what's wrong, before Zim quickly reaches forward, snatching the sugar out of Phil's hand, and stepping back away from him. Phil furrowed his brows, confused.

"Now that wasn't very polite." Zim just stares in response, clutching the canister of sugar close to his chest.

"Yeah, Zim, come on, he helped us." Gaz says quietly, concerned at why he's acting this way. He says nothing, and continues to stare at Phil, nervously tapping his finger against the sugar canister. Phil purses his lips in thought, and then takes a large step back, and gestures to the mug of steaming hot tea.

"Go on, you can put the sugar in there if you'd like." Phil said calmly, putting his hands in his pockets. After a few seconds, Zim takes a tentative step forward, giving Phil a wide berth, never once taking his eyes off him. He reaches the tea, glancing down quickly to locate it, and after fumbling with the sugar canister for a few seconds, he opens it and pours almost half the canister into the mug, causing the tea level to rise almost to the top of the mug. Zim's hands shake as he adds the sugar, and he taps his foot against the floor. Phil shuffles where he stands, and as soon as he moves Zim snaps his head back up to look at him, staring at him with an unidentifiable look. As Zim finishes mixing the sugar, and raises the trembling mug to his lips, Phil mutters a single word.

"Interesting."

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Tak sighed, and slouched into the seat of her voot ship. She always hated this part. The check ins. Mimi sat quietly on the floor next to her, waiting for her mistress to issue a command. Tak readjusted her position in her seat, and grumbled to herself, fiddling with the communicator pad in her hand as she waited. And waited. She frowned. That fool was always late, and then would have the gall to tell her she was late. Whatever, a job was a job. Finally, the communicator began to ring, and a large holographic screen popped up in front of her. Quickly, she sat up in her seat, and answered the call.

"Tak!" The man on the other end grinned and giggled. "G-good to see you!" He swayed where he stood, clutching a glass in his left hand, the liquid sloshing each time he moved. Tak rolled her eyes. Of course.

"Good to see you too, sir." He nodded, bringing the glass to his lips for a sip, and then turned his attention back to Tak.

"How-howzit goin'?" He grinned stupidly, taking another sip from his drink.

"It's… I'm having a hard time holding on to the signal."

"Wh-what? Why?" He leaned forward, heavily placing his free hand on the table in front of him to support himself.

"I'm not sure, sir. There's just something wrong with it, and it comes in and out sporadically. I think it was possibly damaged in the crash."

He rolled his eyes. "Can't you f-fix it?"

"That would require finding it, sir."

"Oh." He hiccupped. "I guess."

"Yeah." Tak watched as he lifted his glass again, only to look confused to find it empty. He frowned, and let it slip from his hand, smashing onto the floor.

"L-look, this shouldn't be that hard! It's a s-simple job!"

"If it's that simple, why don't you do it."

"Wazzat? If th-that's disrespect I hear, you wouldn' wan' the Tallest to hear about that…"

"No sir, I do not."

"Good. Hey you!" He gestured to a servant off screen. "Br-bring me some tshaj, okay?" The servant scampered away, and Tak sighed as she watched her boss sway.

"If you overdose, do I still get paid?"

"Sh-shut up, Tak." He growled.

"I'm just checking." Tak sighed, and leaned back into her chair. "So that's all I've got for you today, I'm afraid."

"That's not good en-" He was interrupted by another servant coming into the room.

"Sir? The tallests would like to speak with you."

"Awww man! Ugh, fine." Abruptly, the video feed was cut off, and Tak was left sitting in the dark of her voot cruiser.

"Of course." She mumbled to herself.