Chapter 17: " Thy Adversaries; Thy Friends "

Purple strolled through the hallways, and allowed his mind to wander about some of the ways he could make for an introduction, or entrance. Red had been eagerly waiting for this day and it's arrival; the mere thought almost excited him. Purple found it amusing slightly, how energetic he became whenever they spoke on terms about this upcoming event. He supposed to himself that it wasn't entirely an immoral thing for him to be so enthusiastic. Despite the fact that it was punishment, it was for one who indeed deserved every bit and more. The lights in the halls shimmered a bright purple and illuminated his way down the empty corridor.

The tap of his shoes echoed against the steel walls, however he was comfortable and assured that no one was near to be alarmed. He approached a pocket door, and the lights flashed with a monitored sound, being equipped with motion sensors, and opened the bypassing panels. He was now inside the docking chamber, where they stowed ships in preparation of take off or temporal landing. The few officers which supervised the area were currently absent; they'd been notified of an important meeting in the Conference room. They were being informed of the recent indictments laid upon the Tallest and the following penalties, and their titles temporarily stripped. And were to be labeled as thus. A salute was no longer in due from their presence. Silence would be the alternative.

However Purple was confident. The people followed under them with an incorrigible loyalty. A devotion to them that could possibly be considered as an adherence. They pledged their allegiance daily, and so it didn't worry him to think that they would think less of them. As much as he was concerned, they despised Zim as well, and on virtue, would show an understanding rather anything else in it's stead.

Purple approached The Massive, and climbed the stairs leading to the base of it. Red was waiting inside, that he knew. He entered into the gates, and made his way to the pilot room. He walked upon carpeted floors, and bypassed the weapons stationed on the walls. Purple absent-mindlessly lifted his arm, and brushed his fingers against them. This was the weaponry. Where they created their arsenal and manufactured other devices for warfare and combat. They were used mainly by the Soldiers stationed on the ship. And occasionally the Invaders when assigned.

He grabbed one of of it's apoplectic state, removing it from the supporters, and settled it against his fingers. The wrist guards that concealed the majority of his hand, and even provided as a discernible weight made it harder to grasp. With only two fingers, his hands weren't made for this usage. However he liked the familiar feeling it brought, the cold iron against his skin. Falling into place of the parts he held, grasping familiarly as he did so many years back. The weight was a little more than he'd remember, but he figured it was because of his lack of experience.

He held it against his shoulder, and peeked through the crosshair. Purple managed a steady grip and he turned to face one of the targets. It wasn't required that he be specialized in this field of training, however he practiced anyway. He shot a few times, and the recoil shook his body. He removed his eye from the scope and sighed. It wasn't an ideal outcome, but it wasn't entirely disadvantageous. Purple replaced it back against the supporters and continued on. Keeping Red waiting wasn't ideal either.

Purple entered the chamber, and walked through the small corridor that opened to the larger expanse of the pilot room. The door opened and he made his way in. He began his way to the front and found Red already starting up the computer system. He glanced back, as he initiated the power structures.

" Well it's about time." He remarked, typing against the touchscreens and computer pads. Purple only grinned.

" Patience is a virtue, my friend." He said, approaching the dashboard. He folded his arms behind his back and waited at the side, while his colleague figured the data. Purple was able to observe the room with a different perspective. He scanned the chairs and the empty stations. Although being at the higher surface of the room wasn't much of a change, it was more of a mental effect. It was silent. And it wasn't populated by other occupants and officers and pilots. He didn't like it this way. It was slightly eerie, and it gave too much feed for the mind.

Red scoffed.

" Well...Dragging your feet isn't." He replied. Purple laughed and took the seat next to him. He typed at the pad that formed out of the frame of the dashboard. It required access authorization, and it was mainly by a sample of DNA or a personal password that only Purple knew; simple encoding text and cipher which he'd learned when he studied digital system and automated programming.

He typed in the concise order of numerical commands and enforced it. It beeped in confirmation and they gained access to the command center. There he tapped at the screen and initiated video transmissions. He paused, and watched the words pop up

Send transmissions to Computer System ID: 47ydRTS, and to Irken Zim: Status Invader?

Purple suffered his fingers a moment of paralysis, as a small itch gathered. He looked at Red, which he returned the look. Purple grinned.

" Let's raise some hell." He winked.

• • •

Zim kept his hands behind his back. His breathing was audible, but controlled. He was standing, and he tried not to make any eye contact with the others in the room. Straining his eyes to keep to the ground, he blinked constantly. However he was in thought. One that managed to lose continuity, and he would have to remember what it was he was thinking. It wasn't problematic, but it didn't help with his emotions. Zim closed his eyes, and released a deep breath.

" How did you miss it?" He asked, trying not to lose patience.

" I-I have no recollection of the event happening, Sir. I...I must've been shut down or updating my system if I have absolutely no memory of it—"

" Is that going to be your excuse from now on? You were updating?" Zim asked, placing his hand over his brow in exasperation. " Computer, there is no possible way that each and every time that Dib invades my house, you are so conveniently 'updating your system'." He turned to the screen now. Gir was sitting at the couch quietly, his hand having a thumb war. He was nervous. He always became anxious whenever Zim was angry; it made him uneasy at the pressure it gave in the room and the atmosphere.

" There is no other way that I could've missed it. I always monitor the cameras, I always do. I-I'm sorry, Sir. I really am, but I have nothing else to—"

" So I'm supposed to believe that Dib, some how, has omniscient power over all things digital? And can identify when you're not watching the surveillance? " He said, annoyed.

" I never said that..."

" By the Gods, I'm surrounded by idiots." Zim said, shaking his head. Blood rushed to his face, and he'd realized he was tapping his fingers. A habit which seemed to occur without his approval or notice. He mumbled to himself and anger swelled within. It rose his bloodstream, and heated his insides. There was nothing plausible about Computer's reasoning. There never was. Always resulting to excuses and far-fetched lies that he moronically believed himself. Sometimes Zim was convinced that his mind was as small as Gir's. He gave no evidence to show otherwise, and quite the contrary, always made the wrong actions. But he always threw the guilt into the air, and claimed innocence by pure happenstance and coincidental logic that played and bastardized Zim's luck.

He was tapping his foot now. He stopped it by pacing slowly. His eyes shot to Gir, who was gazing at the floor restlessly, shoulders hunched, thumbs twiddling and apprehensive.

" Gir." Zim called.

He looked up slowly, and reluctantly.

" How did you get the camera?" He asked, remembering it was in his untrustworthy possession before any of this occurred. Gir's eyes formed sadly and he brought his knees to his chest, and his eyes back down to the floor. He was scared to answer. For a while, he kept his silence in hopes that he wouldn't be required for a response. However little did he know ( Little did he ever know) was that it wore on Zim's patience. One that had a fuse shorter than a centimeter long.

Zim gritted his teeth.

" Dammit, Gir! Dib offered it to you, didn't he!"

He flinched, and covered his head.

" I-I just...I didn't—"

" And let me guess! You took it from him like the imbecile you are!" He snapped. Zim was tightening his fists, and an excited energy ran through his veins like fire. Gir was trembling. He had been before hand, but it was evident now. It always escaped his mind that Gir was able to breath, as he hiccuped and tried not to sob in front of his superior.

" I-I'm sorry..." He whimpered, and coughed. Despite his best efforts, Gir began crying. He cried quietly to himself, out of mortification. His metal exterior was formulated so it wouldn't rust against his tears, as he wailed. His mind was shattering all over again, and soon he wouldn't even remember most of this. He wouldn't remember why he was scared. He wouldn't remember why his superior was angry. Zim also knew that he didn't even recall the event of them crashing around the house, and caused his dislocated shoulder and his dented body. But it was his emotions that were strongest; and so that would be his only reminder. He knew he was to be afraid when Zim mentioned his head, and wanting to open it. He knew he was in trouble for something, but he wouldn't remember why. He knew to hide, so he could finally feel safe.

Zim was yelling at him for something he couldn't even comprehend. His memory was so short, he was surprised in the first place that he knew that he still had those dents in him. His mind was inexorably small. In the past, he would have random outbursts of illogical thinking from his backwards mentality. Mainly he did so out of his excitement. But now, after the unrelenting pressure of the recent events, his thinking was more progressive, but it only started to repress his memory. Not only was his A.I. chip defective, but he had literal junk within his metallic skull that did so little; Zim was surprised it did anything at all.

He straightened his back, and after that moment of realization, the anger calmed within the wave of another transmission. He pitied Gir, and Zim closed his eyes with a sigh. He'd grown too attached to the beings around him. Even more so to the point that it was disadvantageous to him in general. Pity came when he was indignant. Remorse when he acted upon it. It was becoming ridiculous.

Zim looked out the window. It was hard to believe it had only been 45 minutes since he came home. He shifted on his feet, and sat himself upon the couch. Gir stifled his cries to quiet and almost silent hiccups. He shifted away, and held his knees closer to his chest. Today was eventful. A roller coaster right from the beginning. Then again, that was how it was all starting to feel. Like a ride through emotional trips and sensibility. Driving through his sensations like a daily course. Zim closed his eyes and released a deep breath through his nostrils. He was wanting another walk, his legs still sending energy through his nerves for movement. But he was only able to during the night. Of which was no where near. In all honesty, Zim wanted this day to end. He was tired of feeling.

It was quiet in the house, for a long time. It brought no end to the hidden emotions, growing ever so fervently within the household. However, he could only estimate the amount of time when he realized that things seemed to calm, and loosen the aura around them. Gir wasn't sobbing anymore, and they all kept to themselves. Time moved on, and they moved along with it. Transferring them into another reality within the next second, calming the excitement that lit the room to a dull, haze of residual awkward and potential drama. Such situations only existed for the inconvenience of any individual.

Zim cleared his throat. He'd waited for almost an hour. It wasn't exactly a definite quality he was looking for, however it was something that he was able to achieve. Peace. Quietness in the hostile environment. Perhaps even better moods. He wasn't sure, but the more he realized, the more he began to recognize his emotions, and how bigger they were growing.

"How did you get the camera Gir? " He asked, deeply. Gir remained silent. He hugged his knees a while longer before he began taking deeper breaths. Zim was reminded of a child of his small structure, and behavior. Innocent and harmless...

He cleared his throat.

" Do you even remember anything?" He asked, solemnly. In his attempt, he also tried to make it softer. He wasn't sure if that was accomplished, but it didn't matter. He hated to care about such trivial things.

" I...I don't...know." He whimpered.

"...Dib give it to you?" Zim asked. Gir hid his face against his knees.

" I don't know." He replied, upset.

He watched him, and Gir tried not to allow tears to escape. But his sobs became emphasized. Zim didn't want to explain how he felt. He didn't even want to acknowledge them. Things that didn't need to be, and didn't deserve to be. He watched, and felt pity again. He turned his head to the screen, and placed his elbow against the armrest. He rested his head against his palm, and blinked.

" Stop crying." He said quietly. After a minute or so, Gir tried his best to comply. Sniffling and trembling intakes of breath, he managed to calm himself, somewhat. It was silent for another wave of minutes before Zim continued on. He focused his eyes on the TV screen now; at Computer.

" Computer; Turn on the TV." He said. After a moment of confusion, Computer did what he was told. The black screen flickered to life, and displayed an animated cartoon. The noise was boisterous, and expectantly inane. Bright, vivid colors splashed over the lines, with an 'eye catching style'.

However Gir enjoyed this. He enjoyed the humor and the illogical events that took place. It was sad to be admitted, but it was something he could understand; after being slowed to accommodate the small minds of children. It helped him forget. Watching TV, although the most mind numbing thing to do in the world, brought out the life of those with already numb minds. Zim glanced back at Gir. His eyes were already fixated on the screen, widened and curious.

Another thing that Zim realized; Gir was a child. Albeit not entirely true, however his mind showed evidence of the naive aspirations and frivolous nature of one. Zim had lived here long enough to know what one was; Especially the horrid ones. However, there were those who'd seem to be associated with morality and kindness. They would take in interest into his skin tone; all of them would, to be honest, but only few so daring to ask. Those who did, asked politely, whenever their parents weren't accounted for, or weren't looking. Zim would shoo them away, and abrasively ask for their immediate, quiet, and well needed departure. They were annoying, but they had innocence. Although Gir did have some weaponry additions to his bodily make up and functions, Zim could still make correlations without much effort.

It wasn't until now that he realized that he had children in his underground base. In his laboratory...

Zim shook his head. He was allowing these thoughts to wander upon his emotional natures. Which never lead to anything beneficial, and only prolonged, exhibited, and increased his feelings. Something that wasn't supposed to be. He became slightly annoyed at himself. He was becoming more vulnerable.

A few beeps sounded in the house, and Zim became alarmed. He looked to the screen for explanation.

" Sir. Receiving transmissions from...The...Irken Armada." He stated quietly. Zim's eyes widened, and his heart flushed all blood from his chest. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. His knowledge over the situation vanished, and he was left to shatter over the news.

Why...Why would they call to me?

His mind desperately wanted an answer, but in sequence, his frozen body wasn't willing for any movement. The nerves that once sent excited signals for exercise vanished, and was replaced with overwhelming energy, making his legs quiver. He blinked several times, and glanced back at Gir. He wasn't fazed at all; his mind too attended to what was in front of him. Zim didn't know why, but he felt worry. And another mixture of feelings that became unexplainable. But a needle in his synapse sent off a warning. It duplicated exponentially, and caused a formulaic reaction of a cold chill, and passed it down his spine and he glanced back at the screen. Zim only nodded, and ran to the kitchen.

Zim sprinted down the hallways. The closer he got to his Monitor room, the more his heart raced. The more blood that rushed to his body, and escaped his hands and feet. He didn't know what it was he was feeling. Fear? Excitement? It ran through his veins, coursing throughout his body and making chemical changes to his input of emotions. It wormed it's way to his stomach, and made it twist. It wasn't until the door was in sight that he remembered he could've asked Computer for a quicker transportation. Using the pink cylindrical tubes that allowed easier access. However lately his mind hadn't been too concerned over convenience in small traveling. Zim immediately forgot the thought as he charged.

Is this a second chance? Will I be redeemed?

Will I...be accepted?

He slammed through the door, and his lungs reminded him of his removed oxygen as he heaved for breath. His throat become dry and it was painful to breath. He nearly collapsed on the floor as his legs felt weak and his knees shook. His energy was physically wasted, but the energy of his mental output, and emotional reaction was surging ever so strongly. Zim walked to the blinking screen, flashing purple words that reminded him of who was requesting his presence. He sat at the chair, and he froze as his fingers were gently applied to the buttons of his keyboard.

Something was going to happen. Zim didn't know what. But the potentiality of it all was making his head spin. He was still breathing heavily. His visual self a physical mess. He was never self-conscious before. It wasn't until now that he realized. But it didn't matter.

Zim pressed the buttons and enforced the command. His eyes widened, and he could no longer sustain steady intakes of oxygen.

I can't let that show. I can't look desperate.

There he saw the two leaders. Purple and Red, waiting. Waiting for him to respond and retrieve the video transmissions for communication, and their eyes filling with spirit when he did. But he was mistaken; it was only amusement. They repositioned on their seats, and Red leaned forward. Zim was aware of his stature, and gradually fixed it to emulate them. Red smiled a long, sly grin. Their presence felt unreal. It felt like it was another TV cartoon. He felt that soon, the image would change into spontaneity, but it didn't. Red kept his smile.

" Well Zim..." He began. Purple watched with a smirk as well. They were casual, to be expected. Laid back. Nonchalant and uncaring. Hearing his name, pronounced by his leaders, ones who he devoted so much to, was almost euphoria. Why? Red's eyes skimmed over the details of who he addressed, and his smile became bigger. He repositioned on his chair, and shook his head. Zim wasn't sure what it was he was trying to analyze. He also wasn't sure if the word he used for him was for Red or himself.

" You look like shit." He stated, chuckling to himself. Zim's heart dropped to his stomach, and he remembered the last video transmissions. The mocking, and the spite. It brought back all of the painful words that whispered into his ear, and only brought back more embedded images and reminders. Feelings brought themselves out, but he managed to keep his body straight. His mind was falling. But he couldn't let that show.

He realized then that those emotions were coming from this. His held in reactions to the last event. Ones that he thought he could lock away, and seal them to obscurity. Little did he knew that they grew into a tempest as he foolishly hid them from reality.

Zim blinked and looked down at the keyboard. He hadn't been taking care of himself. He noticed that now. He hadn't showered. He hadn't eaten before, and only did he so recently eat one fruit, which was a week ago. His mind didn't allow him to notice. His mind concealed the details and brought up past wants. Wants to fulfill his mission. Wants to please the leaders of Irk. Wants to take over earth. Wants to test on his experiments. And it all came shattering down now. He was hiding the entire time.

Purple shook his head.

" Here on more. Official. Business." He reminded, shooting a glare at his comrade for his unnecessary remark. He glanced back at Zim and wove his fingers together.

"...We are here and only here to advise you on your charges and further on your punishments of the State of Irk."

Zim looked up.

" I thought my banishment was..." Zim paused, and his voice died down into nothing. Purple raised an eyebrow.

" Enough?" He finished for him. " No. Banishment over such crimes you've committed wouldn't nearly suffice." He stated effortlessly.

More punishments? More penalties? More suffering? what more could you do?

Purple shifted on the chair and blinked. Red watched with his incessant grin. He was amused. He was observing the ingrate and his obscure details. He was relishing in the fact he was responsible for such an outcome. Appreciative at how effective his last speech was. Amused at how pathetic Zim acted. It showed in his outward appearance so vividly, so clearly. Clothing wrinkled, gloves dull. Small, unmistakeable blemishes that splotched his face. It wasn't entirely clear what it was he did to himself, if those were bruises. His shoulder also a bit odd-formed. Bags underneath his eyes, and visible green at his lacrimal caruncles. His eyes slightly puffy at stress and—Was that over sleep? Zim, falling into sleeping habits and depression?

Ho ho, this is getting interesting. Red thought to himself.

Purple cleared his throat.

" Judging by the last conversation you two had, I'm sure that you are familiar with what you are being charged for, Zim." Purple said, his voice ringing in his recipients ears.

He stared at them for a few moments, before his mind clicked, and allowed comprehension to pass. He nodded pensively. Purple took note to his slowness in movement, and understanding. He pondered momentarily what it was that they shared with one another for him to be so dejected by the mere presence of this conversation. At the same time, it was disgusting. Zim, one who would show no mercy and who actually contained the honorary requisites of the mindset and tactics of an Invader, was being effected by mere insults. Betraying his own dignity and equilibrium to allow emotions to pass. A detraction of the already small image of which he could hold himself to. Was this the same person? It clearly wasn't. However he continued on.

" Further details on your charges will be explained on the day of trial. Further on, I'll go on to say—"

Zim's eyes widened. A quick flash lit them in the few moments he sat there bewildered. Purple exchanged the same expression.

" Trial? Y-you mean a—"

" Yes, Zim. Existence Evaluation." He said, heavily. He was partially scowling at him now, displaying his great displeasure to the fact he was just interrupted. His eyes were sharpened, and his impatience was evident. Red knew Purple did not appreciate any sort of interruption, not necessarily pertaining to anything. However it was most manifested when it concerned matters oral conversations, especially if the subject was of major importance.

Zim perceived this, and his stature tightened in response. He'd just remembered Purple's high offense to being hindered in his talking. Purple kept his severe glare centered onto him a while longer before he released most of his anger in a sigh, and straightened again. He now deposited disapproval, and haughtiness. His chin was raised, and the visage of him lowered Zim mentally. He felt pressured, and devalued. He could feel himself wither under their scrutiny, and their disgust. A thought occurred to him at that moment.

...Is this how Computer feels?

Purple cleared his throat.

" You will be summoned to the said Evaluation when it is necessary. However, the event will not partake in any current plans. You're not worth the trouble to stop our important operations at the moment." Purple said, slandering. His grin turned into a more crooked smile, and he folded his arms across his chest.

" Don't try to get any ideas. You will be under constant surveillance over the duration to ensure you don't try to do anything stupid." Red began. Zim's eyes switched to him.

"...You're going to watch me?"

Am I no longer safe?

Red stared a while longer, and his smile enlarged. Then he burst into diverted laughter, that rang loudly. It was like an acid to his ears, and Zim's heart twinged. Purple couldn't resist, and soon he was chuckling among his comrade, who was nearly tearing.

" You're an enemy of the planet! Do not tell me you didn't expect to be spied on after committing such crimes!" He exclaimed, joyously. " Oh that was priceless!" He added.

Purple was shaking his head. Zim could think of many words that could describe his expression. Readable, but complex. Derogative. Belittling. Scornful. Demoralizing. Thinking of the words, as he read his face, only began to bring out more and more of the tempest, seeping out of the brimming bottle that was his body. Zim could feel his muscles spasm, from the instability of his composure. His mind. The small frame that attempted to hold all of the content that was more than overwhelming. His eyes flitted back to Purple's and he watched with interest. However, it was Red who began to speak.

" Your Irken technology is still in use, no?" He asked, smiling. Red's cackling finally subsided, and was wiping his eyes. Remaining chuckles and snickers passed by his lips, however the event was nearly done. Zim nodded.

"...Yes...Why?" He asked, cautiously.

" Good. With that knowledge, we will disable your Computer's ability to thoughts, and mind. Your cameras are going to be linked to our video screens to ensure that you won't do anything stupid." He began, speaking simply, and casually. Zim felt his heart arrest when the first line hit his hears. He was horrified. It never crossed his mind that they could take away the very conscious of Computer. The ability of his reciprocal speech. His very own mind. Worry rose in his gut, and he needed some way to dispose of that idea, to show his concern. In any attempt to show it wouldn't be necessary. However he couldn't form words in his frozen mouth, his tongue remaining placid against his teeth.

" Well, Zim. I know last time I said I never wanted to see you...but that won't happen until next year...Something I can't long more for." Red said, demeaning. His poisonous voice making a caustic infection to Zim's mind. He watched as Red reached over beyond the screen, and the signals were cut. It wasn't until a moment later when his eyes were trying to adjust, that he realized the screen was black.

He immediately stood from the chair. His hands were shaking. The muscles in his body quivered, and shook his joints. Zim tried to keep his breathing intact, but it was becoming more and more unsteady. He stayed in that state for an unmeasurable amount of time, trying to regain his ability to speak. He wondered why he cared now. Why his existence suddenly gained importance. There was no reason. Zim thought that it might've been important ever since they met. It wasn't until now, when his life was at stake, that he realized it.

" Computer?" He croaked. He needed reassurance. They were going to kill him, and he didn't know what to do. His mind was constantly resetting, and searched for answers in desperation. However he fell apart and his logic wavered over his emotions.

" S-Sir..." His voice responded. "...I heard it." He added a moment later, scared. Zim immediately left the room. He walked fast, and forced the energy in his legs to move, and use his appendages, despite the stress and strain it put on his legs.

" Sir...W-What are we going to—"

" I don't know...I don't know..."

"...Oh no, and the kids!" He said, dejected. He Zim knew he was talking about the test subjects.

" What do they have to do with anything!" He yelled, confused.

"...Oh no...Sir...I'm having virus sightings."

Hiss eyes widened.

" What? What does that mean?!"

" Sir, I...I—I've lost vision! Sir!"

" Hold on! I'm trying to think!" He yelled, his throat constricting. Zim began running. Anxiety formed in his body, and it surged through out his systems. Reinforcing the coldness, and shivering of fear and hesitance. It wasn't a moment later to where his stomach twisted again, and he began to feel mortification, fear, nervousness all in once, swelling in his gut. He wasn't sure what it was he was running for; why he was rushing. Maybe it was the sense his mind tried to make for it being in shambles, as if it would matter by time if he could save his life. Zim didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.

" Invader Zim!" Computer yelled, his voice traveling far into the metal interior of the halls, shattering across the void. Zim heard horror in the reverberations.

" What!" He impulsively yelled back. In that moment, a shutter ran through the entire household, that rumbled the mere foundation. It interrupted the electricity, and the lights flickered. A notable drone was heard as the lights finally shut off.

Zim stayed still. Paralysis struck his entire nervous system, and a constant constriction and cold grasped his back, and prevented further motions. His heart beat loudly into his ears, and he couldn't see anything. He lived inside the cold reality of his underground basement. Alone. It felt like hours had passed, and alternate lifetimes. He released his breaths and quick inhales, and exhales, shakily and filled with terror. It was almost a minute later when the lights turned back on. However Zim remained still. His body trembled. His legs no longer willed to carry him, and he collapsed against the wall. His breath remained in his lungs, and for once, in his entire time of living in the home; was pure silence. Not even the small, generator hum that was heard within the building, that could reassure security, and safety.

"...Computer?" He nearly whimpered.

Silence.

"...Computer."

Silence. Zim's heart wrenched. He closed his eyes, and shook his head. He whispered to himself inaudible words of absolute dismay. His head was starting to spin, and he couldn't concentrate. He gathered a gust in his lungs.

" Computer!" He yelled.

...

He slid on his back, until he was sitting against the floor. He shrunk against the cold steel and tried to think of an explanation. His mind trying to reach for answers, when there wasn't any. He felt sick. His body was trembling, and he wanted to vomit. An unidentifiable feeling impaled his chest. Something that spread it's harmful disease and bacteria within him. Infecting him and slowly killing him on the inside. He brought his knees up, and cradled himself. Past conversations and arguments echoed in his mind, and brought back the liveliness of his voice in his head. However, it only brought him back to the reality he wanted to escape. The moment he didn't want to live; to no longer feel. Zim's mind came together, and formed the mental abstract and realization.

Computer was dead. And it was his fault.