A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long gap between chapters again. Anyways, just a quick note for this chapter. If you don't get the last line, I suggest you go back to Chapter One. I realize it's been a long time since I originally posted it, so many won't get the reference, but I really wanted to end this chapter the way I did. Also, this is the final chapter, but I was wondering if you guys wanted me to write an epilogue. I feel like I could make it work if I wrote one, but I also find that the story works well with this ending, too. I'll post a poll on my page that you guys can vote on, or you can just write your opinion on the idea in a review. Thanks!

Chapter Six: Static

Now, I've come full circle, assuming that you're not interested in hearing about the last few months of my life—trust me, you're not. Nothing really happened; it was four months that consisted of boredom and Zim's last pathetic attempts to conquer Earth. Believe you me, they were pathetic. I almost feel…sorry for him. After Dib left, he never really got himself put back together again. He still put on a façade of enthusiasm and zeal, a desire to still ruin Earth. That personality was like a wall, meant to hide the true pain inside; what he didn't know was that that wall had been made entirely of glass.

That's when it clicked in my head. Dib was really the only reason Zim was still here. Dib had kept the idea alive in Zim's head that there was a mission that he was fighting for. However, after everything he said to Zim on that last day, after that failed call to the Massive, that idea—and Zim's will to live—died. He had lived for his mission; now, he had no idea where to go. He was trapped on a planet that represented everything he despised. It was, in his eyes, "a spinning ball of dirt." It meant nothing to him except failure. I suppose he could have just flown off into the depths of space. He still had his Voot Cruiser, and it was fully operational. But what was out there for him? He was Irken, a race everyone in the universe loathed—nowhere was safe for him. Not to mention the fact that if he ever encountered any other Irkens, especially those on the Massive, he would be killed instantly.

Anyways, there's not much left to say. I've told you my story, and now, it is time for it to end. I'll be long gone once you find this. Don't even try to stop me.

I…I'm sorry for all of these years. Well, not really, but I pity you; so, I suppose "sorry" is an appropriate word to use.

Lastly, just remember me, remember my story. Or don't. I don't really care anymore. This was just to give you an explanation. No matter: if you hold on to anything, hold on to this:

My name is GIR. And I was a human. Perhaps not physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, I was human.

Oh, I do have one final request: if you ever see Gaz again, tell her I say "hi."

~(*)~

The screen filled with static. The room was dead silent except for that noise. After several minutes of this, the base's computer broke the unbearable tension.

"Master, can I turn of the screen? It's giving me a headache."

"…What? Oh, yeah. Fine, sure, whatever…"

The room filled with silence as the computer screen was switched off. The lighting in the room seemed odd, now that the bright screen had been turned off. The only other lights came from the keyboard, but soon the computer had hidden it back into the panel in the wall in which it normally resided. Then, total darkness.

"What did I just watch to? Could any of that have been…true?"

"GIR!" Zim yelled out in his normal anger-filled, commanding voice. From above him, Zim could hear the metal lid of the trashcan being opened. Zim walked over to where the elevator rested and looked up. He was met with the bright cyan eyes of his little robot.

"GIR, what kind of sick joke was that video you left for me on the computer?" It was clear that Zim was angry, but only because he feared the truth. Everything that had been said in that video might just be true—and it killed him to think that. He could not bear to be alone—Dib had gone already, he just couldn't lose GIR, too.

"I'm gonna watch the Scary Monkey Show!" And with that, GIR closed the lid of the trashcan and scampered off back towards the living room.

Zim, once again in darkness, sighed. His anger had faded. How could he be so naïve as to believe GIR would actually mean any of that? It must have been some joke, or computer virus. He knew GIR, and that wasn't him. Besides, hadn't the voice on the video sounded different? It didn't sound quite high enough to be GIR's. Plus, he hadn't actually seen the narrator of this tale. While it had been a video, the screen had been dark the entire time; it might as well have just been an audio file. Who knows who it really was?

Zim shook his head, eliminating the last negative thoughts from his mind. He then walked over towards his computer screen again. He asked the computer to turn back on, for he needed to continue planning his next greatest threat towards humankind.

As he typed away on his keyboard, a quiet thought scampered across Zim's mind:

"Isn't Christmas only a few days away?"