Chapter 29: " Same Difference "

It wasn't until he arrived at the store that Gir remembered his indentations, becoming more self conscious. He took a deep breath, the buzz of anxiety resounding in his body. He'd been here before. That in of itself wasn't a new experience but recently he hadn't much social interaction with others, and unknown to him, that caused his walls to slowly grow back. What was food for his entertainment was now signal to his means of preserving identity being breached.

He waited impatiently in line. The air entering his synthetic lungs felt heavy and burdensome. The knot in his stomach warmed his blood, but it made his nerves pass adrenaline. People stared at him, still trying to comprehend the event with that there was a walking dog amongst them who, judging by his presence in the store, also owned residence inside the neighborhood. Gir should've been used to this quieted, constant beleaguering by the customers around him, visually prodding him in and out as if the answers lied on him physically. But within this certain allotment of time, their eyes burning on his neck made him inwardly quiver.

A lot of them, actually, refused the idea of being behind him and often argued quietly with other customers as to who should go. When Gir would look back, they would all freeze and watch every next subtle movement, like deer caught in headlight. Even in front of him people cringed against his presence and when he tried to close in upon the sizeable gap they'd arranged upon his arrival, they screamed at him incoherent warnings and grabbed fly swatters or other elongated objects to publish the words' validity.

Gir hugged himself under the scrutiny, and willed he didn't shake. He tried to coax his mind into ignoring the activity around him but it was hard to quiet the adrenaline flowing in the environment, petrifying the people and their feeble composure upon contact. So much so that some people, that had entered the store at random intervals—when upon first examination—had dropped their jaws and ran out to catch the comfortable, rational life they believed was fleeting from them. He jumped when they did that and tried not to make himself aware of the contagious effect it had on everybody else. He looked down at his groceries and closed his eyes.

Gir was dreading this exposure. He felt as if he was being pinned and mentally dissected by the hundreds of eyes that bore down upon his back, sewing through the folds between reality and confusion. Their lack of understanding was what offset this. Staring with a steady caution as if to avoid some manufactured endangerment they believed was before them. But Gir didn't know why that was the case, why his 'unsolicited' reside was something so dastard and terrifying. Didn't everybody know what dogs were?

But Gir supposed to himself that even that didn't matter. In sequence, almost like some retaliation of some sort, Gir didn't come to understand them either. He just wanted to go home and hide behind the safe haven's doors and not be followed by prying eyes and criticizing minds.

The small robot moved forward in line when the people in front of him exited the store with overt haste. Gir stood there for a moment in blank thought of what was supposed to happen next before he remembered that his items needed to be scanned by the cashier. He looked around him, grabbed another nearby grocery basket and flipped it over to stand on. It wasn't until moments like these that his mind became aware of his actions. Whenever he felt socially vulnerable, he became self-conscious of his behavior and easily embarrassed by things that might momentarily inconvenience others or make him stand out even more.

Gir climbed onto the basket, knelt down and grabbed a few items from his own. He began placing them on the automated belt which started moving them to the cashier.

" Well I'll be darned!" The cashier said. Gir stopped what he was doing and cautiously looked over. Her wide grin caught him off guard and it wasn't until a moment later he realized her age. She looked 89 at youngest. She started moving his items through the scanner, took a few moments to catch another glimpse at the abnormally special customer, and continued on scanning.

Gir managed a small, inaudible hi in return. Chills spread down his insides and he continued putting more items on. The cashier stopped what she was doing and put her hands on her hips.

" Ain't you just the cutest? Where's your owner?" She asked.

Gir looked up at her again at the same pace.

" My owner?" He asked quietly. Instead of explication, the old lady slightly gasped and put a hand against her chest.

" Well I'll be." She said, breathless. "...It's a talking dog!"

Gir stared. His mind couldn't run to any conclusions for a few moments. He examined her facial expression and how it lightened up with a jolly smile. When he saw that she was genuinely enthralled by his presence, he was confused. He remained awkwardly silent at first, the process of formulating words for response becoming inherently hindered. Although, as it appeared, saying anything at all would arouse her excitement. It reminded him of their neighbor next door, who had given him the card to buy these groceries with in the first place. Gir wondered if they knew each other.

" You can talk!" She stated excitedly, but almost as if asking for his confirmation. Gir nodded slightly to respond. He also wanted to elaborate he was a robot in disguise, seeing as how much she delighted on the subject that was a thin as lying and deception could allow, but he knew that would compromise the fact that he wore this in the first place. Gir then pondered how different the initial reaction would be if his encounter with the humans were, seeing as it was only the factor of her age that affected her intuition, if he were to present himself naturally. Though a few more moments of pondering soon abated his curiosity, as he came to remember that robots weren't a custom in human society.

Gir smiled shyly, not too much to avoid seeming pleased by her reaction but enough to show attentive understanding.

" I can talk." he confirmed. The elderly woman gave a few dry chuckles and continued scanning. She smacked her lips quietly before she glanced at him again.

" This generation...is full of surprises." She said. " They...Everything used to be simple. I liked it that way...Not that...Not that now is bad." She remarked in slow, carefully executed tones and sentences. Gir noticed her grey and whitening hair, and how much her body was riddled with unsteadiness, causing her arms to shake when handling with his groceries and other items governing weight. She fixed her glasses on her nose bridge and looked down at the computer cash register and typed slowly.

Despite her behavior, she hadn't many wrinkles like the other old people Gir had seen before, with faces sagging low and arms with floppy undersides. He then took in consideration her skin tone and wondered if that was a factor that played in with her complexion.

" Now is great." Gina continued, Gir found out by reading her name tag. " But I'm too old to keep up with...now...So many things happening n' I get all flustered."

Gina looked at the screen, smacked her lips again and continued typing. A hmm came here and there and she would look up again, and continue typing. She re-scanned a few items before she looked at Gir once more.

" Youse just so cute. Here...I-I have one of them..." She mused, and patted her pockets. She pulled out her phone and hmm'd at that too when she looked at it through her glasses. Gir wondered if the lip smacks and muted hmms were subconscious actions based on their frequency. She tapped at it a few times and furrowed her brow. There was small activity to his right and when Gir turned to address it, it was the other customers in line whispering. Again, they froze, not as comically as before, but nevertheless stopped what they were doing and watched the suspicious dog's behavior. Gir turned back to Gina and his mind opened up to his fear once more, almost as if it was something had subdued underneath his awareness. It rose back up within his heart, piercing him through and made him a little more self-conscious and aware of himself, but he forged it down as much as he could.

He was still being watched. He had to remember that...He wasn't safe here.

" I think this is how you...take a picture." She said, effectively blinding the small robot as the camera flashed two times. " Ooh dear." she said soon afterwards, almost apologetically. Gir rubbed his straining eyes, inside which his synthetic retinas stung from the surfeit of intake. It was here where he realized the truth of his and surrounding conditions, which he felt was something that was issued to him before as means for his education upon the nature of the people around him. Gir wasn't sure if Zim was the purveyor of such information however Gir couldn't say otherwise from his lack of knowledge. People here, albeit coated with an impermeable husk of fragrance that assumed the shape of innocence, were liable of deception. Trust wasn't put forth in means of preserving identity and privacy, as in any otherwise withholding from precaution and careful discerning lead to the limbo of possibilities. It was the quiet abstraction of such unpredictable gain that was measured to be reckoned with. And Gir rather he not lay his trust upon those who cared not if they did so; Even if not by their knowing.

Gir looked up at the elderly woman and met her smile. Gina continued talking about topics that her mind interwove, connecting them by the spine of speech that held the ability of convoluting even the most defined, meticulous of aspects. He paid for the items, smiled his ambiguous, unassuming grin and left her while she bid him goodbye with her cheerful, welcoming color. He left the shop and fell to gladness and security under the cascade of snow from the clouds. In his mind, Gir fell sullen, jaded by the achievement of this understanding. But his heart remained at pace, steadied. Almost peaceful. Almost oblivious.

• • •

Gir made it in the neighborhood when the snow brought among them an icy breeze that lifted loose deciduous leaves and sifted through evergreen and shrubbery. He gripped the bags he held tighter, testing the amount needed for keeping them in position. The cold front sleeved the atmosphere, rode upon the winds' current and pushed against him. His nerves reacted, registered the sensation and the metal plating chilled just slightly. He found it pleasing against his frame, in what once flowed cortisol to spawn his surging anxiety. He blinked and continued walking.

Gir was thinking again about the elderly woman, Gina, when he arrived at the lawn of the house. In result, his mind involved the others who'd occupied the store with him, mitigating the peace he first felt when he recalled the gentle nature. As he walked through the path towards his door, the wind cast another front and streamed through the atmosphere, rustling leaves and grass through each encountering wave. Gir stopped at the entrance and fished through his pocket, and allowed himself through with the key he was given and stood before the dark that enveloped the inside of his home. His eyes adjusted to the gradient shift in light and made recognizable the perception of depth and his surroundings. Inside the shroud of blue and gray tint, lie an object at first he couldn't decipher. After moments he came to realize that object on the floor, motionless and quiet, was Zim.

Gir stared.

His mind made no immediate conclusions. Pinpointing reasons and answers became a slow process to complete. The vagueness of the situation offered little clue to the situation, not enough to create stable grounding for the ability to create story and not enough to interpret the cause that set the events of this to occur in the first place. Gir slowly put his items on the ground, his muscles mimicking his current mind functionality. He blinked. His breathing came out of his system in slow meager exhales, deliberate and voluntary. His brain wasn't able to find logic to reason, and soon he felt his nervous system alight.

" Zim?" Gir called out. His mind took reassurance to the idea of him sleeping, but once he made himself aware of the fact that Zim wasn't prone to falling unconscious at random intervals, his nerves passed a surge of anxious and fearful energy. How was he to react in this? Was he attacked?

Nothing came from him. The sound of the wind whistling through the air eerily passed by his body and swam through the house. Gir blinked a few times and turned to look behind him, surveying the outdoor surroundings the opened door gave when a chill passed down his spine. The white of the sky blanched out most of the liveliness outside. Still, no one was around. No one was in the observable field. But something felt present...Something that threaded out culpability and pricked him with the needle. Gir moved the groceries out of the turn radius of the door and pushed it slowly until it closed. He turned back to Zim. The air grew thinner, as if the available oxygen was being utilized by only one occupant.

" Zim?" He tried again, this one coming out quieter. Then his mind brought up the children and he immediately shut his eyes and balled his hands. What if they did this? How could they? Last he could regrettably recall is that they were wired and locked inside the laboratory...But who else could do this? No one else lived inside the house with them. The image of them gaining mobility caused his stomach to twist and he held his breath to calm his upsetting system.

Just move and check. You're worrying too much. Don't over think this. Gir uttered to himself. It gave him some stability. He opened his eyes and viewed down the room where his master lied. He moved forward cautiously. His feet felt as if they touched foreign ground, treading on an environment unknown and unpredictable. But he continued steadily, with his heart becoming more audible in his audio receptors. When Zim came closer into view, Gir's stomach began to tighten.

He stopped and stood before his unconscious superior, watching closely. He knew he had to be more interactive in order to have a better understanding of the situation, but his legs felt numb and paralyzed, mentally cementing him to the floor. When Gir watched to see that his master was still breathing, relief ran down his body to surfeit. Gir closed his eyes and the tension in his stomach felt for the most part mitigated. But he still needed to consider why he was unconscious, and what caused it. After he opened his eyes back up, he looked around to see if there was anything that could've been used as a weapon. Nothing was nearby, and Zim didn't appear to have sustained bodily harm. He then realized that if there were an attacker, they would have had to of done this within the gap Gir left to the store. No doubt it was plenty of time, however Zim by all means was capable of defending himself against some petty intruder, without considering the weapons he had in his PAK device.

Gir looked around the interior, regarding the placement of the furniture in the house. Everything was the same when he left. The robot looked back down at his superior, twiddling his fingers. Was it possible he literally fell asleep? He thought about it, chided himself because he felt stupid for thinking it, but kept it in mind to consider because it was the only thing he could think about. What else could've happened? No break-in, no weapon to knock unconscious, and unless within the 50 minutes he was gone Zim became morally hypersensitive, fainting wasn't something to regard seriously.

Gir blinked and looked down at Zim's back. He made himself aware that Zim was lying on his stomach, with his left cheek against the face of the floor. It was worth checking to see if there were any injuries on the side of the body that he couldn't see, but he wasn't too sure. With hesitance, he dug his heels into the carpet and placed his hands against Zim's unconscious body. He mentally prepared himself, and then exerted force. But the body moved too easily, and it caught the robot off guard, helping him to a face plant on the carpet.

Gir coughed and looked up at him with slight confusion. But the sight of a strange metallic object held his interest. The small robot sat up slowly, pondering what it was. He leaned over and reached for it, the better part of his investigative nature grabbing hold of him. When he lifted it and weighed it in his hand, Gir analyzed the details, rotating it in his hand to observe it at all angles. He could see it was made with similar Irken metals, so it was something Zim received for his mission. It was also possible that it was something he made, but Gir wasn't too sure about that.

He blinked and stared at it a little longer before he looked up at Zim to realize the shape of this device matched the circles on his PAK device as well. He furrowed his eyes and raised the item in perspective, comparing the two. He lowered the object and watched his superior, contemplating the possibility it could've been taken from it, though also noticing there was no evidence for support. Gir moved closer to him.

The small robot stopped when he was close enough and looked at the item in his hands. After a short pause Gir came to realize three small markings on Zim's PAK device. He leaned in closer to see that the engravings formed a triangular shape, almost as if it was intentional. He blinked, looked around at the object in his hand for anything similar and came to observe three, small protruding prongs. Gir was feeling that it was more probable it originated from the PAK device. It wasn't something that should be assumed, though, especially in consideration that the subject was Zim's PAK device.

That idea alone already brought why it should always be tended with utmost care. But seeing how it was the only thing that was seen after Zim becoming unconscious, brought the link between the two closer the more Gir allowed himself to think about it. He pursed his lips, unsure and hesitant. Then something came to him. Gir remembered the shape of the object now; It was bulging from inside Zim's pocket when he'd left to go to the store. Zim didn't interact with it much, and the small robot in turn never thought too much about as he thought it irrelevant.

He sighed. The idea seemed even more reinforced, but the SIR unit was still unsure. With his thoughts circulating around the idea, and without any other option, he shifted on his knees and extended his arm to the PAK device. As soon as he turned the object respectively to the engravings, the object immediately engaged the PAK, catching him off guard. It was here that he even heard drilling and a small engine beginning to activate. His thoughts seized and the small robot stood there, partially shocked. Once the drilling stopped, the mechanism vibrated for a what felt like a minute. The device lit up a few times with small, miniscule LEDs that Gir hadn't seen on top and ejected itself, not before beeping in completion. The legs of the item retreated back inside, and it fell away.

The small robot stared, and remained quiet.

Gir troubled himself trying to say something— anything that might make the situation better but he hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do anything, fearing that doing more would make the situation worse. Finally his mouth and his ability to speak caught up with his thoughts.

" Zim?" He called. He called again, and then a third time. Gir moved closer and placed his hand on his shoulder. He began shaking him.

" Zim...W-wake up."

He analyzed his face, trying to sense any sense of life within him. Then he rested the tips of finger against the side of his neck, checking his pulse. There was nothing. Gir looked up and closed his eyes, thinking that reducing one sense might, by some miracle, give him the heightened ability of touch to feel tinier perturbations. Despite it, Gir couldn't feel anything. Fear bloomed inside rapidly, spreading inside his nerves with an icy anxiousness.

" Zim." He repeated louder. The robot shook him even more and continued calling his name. But he had to stop himself when he realized his actions were becoming hysterical, and that the sounds of Zim's name was beginning to echo in the room. Gir removed his shaking hands from the body and balled his fists, covered his eyes and tried to control his unsteady breathing while his nerves passed heavy bouts of fear.

The ambiance of the room was beginning to feel colder and thinner, passing through the still air with impossible movement. The wind outside curved around the house and the trees, whistling quietly through the passage of obstructions, reaching to the ears with barren character. The room remained silent, resembling an emptied core the atmosphere held to itself like the dead held to hollowness.

Gir gritted his teeth and sucked the air through them, noticing that his methods of trying to calm himself weren't working. His mind didn't fail to run through again the idea of death, permeating the fabric of the room and his frail mentality. The quiet wind explored the sky now with a howl, as if the clouds were ruminating on the idea of a snow storm. Gir jumped when the sounds amplified slightly. He willed himself to open his eyes, take in the eery dark colors of the room through bleared vision. The robot then recalled a scene from a cartoon movie he'd watched countless ages ago.

It was mainly enticed by comedic effect, but nonetheless Gir hadn't disregarded it's technical use. In the movie, they used what he believed was called STR. They would press and push against the chest of a person who was unconscious, and they would move around like a dead fish. The friend receiving STR was choking on a morsel of food, but the friend giving it was using the wrong procedure. He would then proceed to try rescue breathing, which limbs of the 'unconscious' friend would bloat like a balloon. It wasn't logical, but Gir had laughed at it no differently.

He looked over at Zim with concern. But he didn't give himself the time to hesitate. He rushed over, placed his hands against the crevice underneath his ribcage and began pushing. His thoughts encircled around how small his hands actually were and how it might affect the efficiency of this procedure, but he dismissed it. Before Gir could continue this for another moment, Zim began twitching erratically. Gir stood up immediately, startling him. But when he saw that nothing else was occurring, he continued and Zim began coughing heavily. The robot was immediately thrown off his chest and he landed on his back. He sat up to see that Zim was conscious; He'd turned over on his hands, hacking uncontrollably. Gir rested his head back down after a few moments, his system practically overriding with relief.

Zim's coughs sounded coarse, as if he was trying to gag out his lungs. But the SIR unit could only be glad in the moment that he was alive.

" Gir...What the hell were you doing?" He croaked. The robot lifted his torso up again from the ground, and faced his direction. He watched him animated a few moments longer before he thought about responding.

"...I-I—You were unconscious. I didn't know what to do—I thought you were—"

Zim's loud coughing interrupted his answer. When it subsided, He took deep breaths, trying to get as much air inside as possible. He swallowed, the trachea moving visibly in his throat, and furrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

" Gir. CPR wouldn't have worked. I don't have human anatomy, you know this." He wheezed. He coughed a few less ragged sounding expels of air, and resumed trying to breathe enough for his system. Then his body convulsed, preparing to vomit as his stomach sank and his head extended forward but his wrist rushed to his mouth to stop it from completing. His throat jumped, but he kept himself from discharging. It happened a few times more, and Gir could only watch with worry. A vein was now visible on his temple. Zim's eyes closed and he paused for a few moments; with great disinclination, he swallowed. His body began shivering afterwards and he coughed quietly.

" Gir, what you were doing induces an Irken to vomit." He said weakly, sounding if he was on the verge of tears. But he was only shaking his head. " We don't have diaphragms. You were pushing directly against my squeedlyspooch."

The robot sat up more, his hands instinctively holding each other as he felt pressured for his inadvertent wrongdoing.

" I'm sorry, Zim. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I saw it in a movie and—" Before he said anything else, Gir stopped himself for two reasons;

He called his superior by his name. If it was in reference in the event that he wasn't present to hear, using his name would only then be appropriate. But doing so now was recognized as disrespectful. The other reason was because was about to explain his reasoning behind his actions from the event of him watching a movie. A cartoon movie at that. Almost as if reading his mind, Zim looked at him in a sidelong glance, catching the prominent misdemeanor. His eyes were greening.

" A movie." He coughed, his tone sounding close to a pejorative dubiety. Gir's lips flattened and his elbows came closer to his sides with his antennae falling, abashed and guilt-struck.

"...I'm sorry—"

"Just..." He stopped him. Zim lied back down and turned on his back with a sigh, closing his eyes. His breathing came out in lengthy intervals, more audible than normal. "...Stop talking."

Gir watched him a while longer, his heart now beating through his audio receptors. He didn't have a face made from flesh, but he knew it would be flushing with blood if it was, coursing with his mortification and guilt. He watched him a little longer. His eyes taking in the details of his movement, his breathing.

Gir blinked and looked down at his hands, still covered by the fabric layer of his suit. The room was once again relieved of conversation. It dispersed a silence among them, accompanying the howl of wind traveling outside, bringing with them thick fonts of snow. Gir hugged his legs and closed his eyes as well. His mind remained stagnant, didn't adhere much to thoughts and drifted silently amongst the quietness around them. After a while of their existing in the house, nothing could be heard, as if the snow subdued all natural sounds. And it was throughout this interval of inaction, which spanned beyond the seconds and minutes Gir could infer through his undedicated attention, he began to feel the disparaging effects of sorrow twisting at his synthetic heart. With it traveling up his throat and causing it to constrict, he forged down his unruly emotions and willed himself not to let it exhibit.

Zim finally opened his eyes, and at the same time came to a realization. He looked around the dark room, and saw that it was snowing heavily. It was late. Later than when he last remembered. He turned on his side and used his elbow for support, looking at the groceries at the front door. His mind took a few moments to cycle the information to understanding and he blinked. It wasn't much of a surprise for the items to be here, but it felt uncoordinated in how they came to be. His remembrance of it was disjointed, and the passage between his two memories felt as if they were mere seconds apart. He rose up from his position and sat against his heels.

Zim woke up to Gir, and he remembered being annoyed by that. But it wasn't until now he caught up to the events consciously to notice the missing information his mind searched for. If what Gir said was true, how did he go unconscious? However his head began throbbing, and the blood pulsating inside heated a piercing pain. It ate away at his vision and he furrowed his eyes as he held his swimming head. He leaned forward to hold the floor for stability. The dizziness began to abate gradually after a few more moments and he was able to see again without feeling too disoriented.

Something glinted in the light of his peripheral, and he glanced over. It was a purple, metallic device, shining in the light of the windows. Zim blinked a few times, his mind flickering in the sight of it, tearing him away from his confusion. He furrowed his eyes. After a bit of observation, trying to understand the mental sentiment his mind was experiencing, he stretched his arm slowly, reaching for the strange allure the device had on him. When his hand made contact, the nerves in his fingers alighted. He brought it back to his lap and held it in both of his hands. He stroked the small bulbs he saw lodged subcutaneously within the device. The Irken turned it around, almost fascinated.

" Gir." He called out, sub-consciously wanting to know if his subordinate had any knowledge of the device. In the light, the purple shimmered and unveiled a light wave of brightened magenta. He liked the way it shined. Zim glanced over at Gir, who seemed to be watching the device as well.

" Did you find this?" He asked. The robot's eyes met his superiors and thought about his question for a moment. Then he shifted uncomfortably and looked back down, ashamed.

" I...I did." He muttered. Gir looked back up. " But I found it with you..." And then his eyes shifted to the device. "...You had it."

" I had it?"

"...Yes."

"...I was still unconscious, wasn't I?"

The SIR unit nodded. Zim looked back down at it, observing thoughtlessly for a while. He turned it in his hands, allowing the near blinding light to hit his eyes, seeping the bracing color through the cornea. It made his eyes water, the superfluous amount of light his retina was absorbing.

" I thought..." Gir paused. Zim glanced back at the small robot, inverted colors now swimming around in his vision, the color receptors in his ocular implants bleached and overstimulated. He blinked a few times. Before Gir continued, the wind howled some more, and the snow was starting to build up on outside surfaces. Gir shifted again. "...I thought you knew what it was." He remarked.

Zim lifted his hand with the object in it.

" This?"

" Yeah...I...I thought...you know...you made it."

Zim pondered his words and his sub conscious delved back further into his mind, searching for any pertinent memories. He looked back down at the device. It wasn't something he remembered, being notable only by it's foreign standing.

He weighed it in his hands, the object owning a sense of it's ample mass within the compact, slender structure.

" Yeah..." Was all he said.

The lamp outside turned on, orange light beginning to filter through the blue tinted snow, reaching inside the window. Gir rested the side of his cheek against his knees and hugged his legs tighter, sighing. The room was now melding with the atmosphere, the darkness beginning to own more of their presence.

" I brought the groceries..." The SIR unit said listlessly. Zim looked up slowly, addressing them. He saw wrapped in white plastic different types of grains and clothing. There were a few fruits and vegetables and a few gallons of water.

" Yes you did." He responded. The Irken looked over at the subordinate, and saw he was shivering in the cold. As a reminder for himself, his body did so as well, the cold traveling up his skin.

" Thank you." He said. At this, he allowed a small, crooked grin to turn the corner of his lips.

Gir looked at him. Zim could almost laugh at how much Gir's face froze, and how much he tried not to let his bewilderment show. He looked back down at the device, stared a while longer while it still held his intrigue, and then held it out for his subordinate. The robot moved back slightly, wondering at first what he intended, and then gingerly received it from his superior. The Irken stood up and approached the groceries, threading his arms through the holes and lifting them with his forearms. He was about to enter the kitchen before he stopped himself, and walked towards the thermostat and activated the heat. Then after that, he vanished to the under dwelling.