Zim the Warlord: Irken Reversion
Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim or anything else here
Sneakyonfoota gasped involuntarily as his pak restarted his body. "What? Who? Where am I?" he asked in alarm.
"In a meeting, sleepy head," Todog answered in jest, offering a hand to the invader. "You okay, Sneak?"
"My pak was ripped off, of course I'm not alright," Sneakyonfoota retorted with a scowl, taking the offering limb all the same to pull himself up. "What'd I miss?" he asked, looking around to see the other Modies all helping their more injured members. Stepotch had a purple medical patch over the laser wound to his head while Totch was helping Lotch realign her jawbone. Chalk was putting wrappings around Lud's wounded arms as Stank repaired the large Irken's mechanical pak-limbs. Krit and Kreenk were carrying Spladoot and Zon over to the doctor, who was currently working on Flan with the other Modies and the Tallests standing around them.
Including Zim and his...pet.
Sneakyonfoota narrowed his gaze at the pair, Zim sitting with his back to the wall while the tiny purple-creature leaned against the surface with her arms crossed, looking only partially interested in her surroundings. "What happened?" he asked neutrally.
"Tenn kicked his ass, so the Tallests decided to end it after Zim discovered how to regenerate," Todog explained casually, shrugging at the very tall Irken.
The stealthy giant remained silent for a moment before responding. "Todog, I believe you," he stated before walking over towards the group.
"Of course you do, I'm too lazy to lie," Todog quibbed to himself with mirth.
"I still can't believe you actually did that!" Chin stated over his shoulder at Zim while he held pressure down on Flan's wound while the doctor's tentacle smeared a yellow-green substance over the teeth-marks. "You drank his blood! Who DOES that?!"
"Yelling isn't helping!" the doctor reminded as Flan groaned.
"Umm, we do?" Zim reminded with a head tilt, his darted tongue zipping out for an instant. "Or did you store that information with your aiming skills?"
"Why did you do that?" El asked, sitting by the doctor in case her help was needed. "You obviously didn't need to."
Zim shrugged at that. "Psychological warfare while testing the function of new organs. Zim honestly just thought it would convert the blood into a poison!" he stated with a grin.
"It does."
"Eh?" Zim asked, glancing over to Tenn, who was standing a few feet from him and Gaz.
"The Smarkle, the Blood-Collecting Organ. As far as we knew, it was simply supposed to convert genetic material into a poison specialized to work against the creatures the organic substance originated from," Tenn explained casually.
"So, what, is the smoke and healing a Zim-only thing?" Purple asked curiously, before wincing a bit as he watched the doctor work.
The doctor sighed at the many distractions, both around her and within her mind. "Or it might be a reaction from just absorbing Irken or even Reverted-Irken blood. We just don't know."
"Maybe we should test it, and have Zim feed Flan some of his blood," Chin murmured sarcastically.
"Sure."
Gaz snorted as she suppressed a snicker when every Irken's head spun to the crazed invader who had very calmly accepted the proposal. "I wasn't serious, Zim," Chin clarified, once more disturbed by his fellow Irken.
"I am. If this is not a capacity unique to Zim's amazing self, then Elite Flan will be back on his feet rather quickly," Zim proposed before shrugging. "And, honestly, Flan didn't deserve that. I would have preferred testing it on Zon or you, Chin."
Chin cautiously leaned away from Zim as the doctor finally put her tarsus down. "No one is drinking anyone! Especially not from Zim. Irk only knows what the aftermath of that process will be," she pointed out.
"Intense pain, stiffness in the muscles, and a tightening of the skin," Zim listed off idly.
The doctor paused in her work as everyone else gave Zim questioning looks. "I thought you said you didn't know about the regeneration?" Red asked with a furrowed brow.
"I didn't," Zim confirmed without elaboration.
Tenn blinked in understanding as the doctor started cursing. "What the Tarki, Zim!? I thought Flan was setting my warning alarm off, not you! How much pain are you in!?" she asked in alarm.
"Zim?" Gaz asked with some concern leaking through.
"Oh, it just feels like someone gave Zim, what do you humans call it? Oh, right, an enema. With earth water," Zim answered dully.
"An Inny-what?" Purple questioned.
"He's saying he feels like acid is inside him," Gaz summarized.
"Well, that sounds about right," the doctor said in exasperation. "The regeneration still converts the Irken blood into poison, and if you don't expel it quickly, it starts to burn as your Parbect, your Anti-Toxin organ, can't burn through it fast enough without great pain on your part."
"I'll remember that," Zim stated flatly.
"So, you've been in horrible pain this whole time and never said anything?" El asked in surprise, looking at the invader with confusion.
Zim scoffed at that. "As if I'd give any of you the satisfaction of seeing me in agony."
"Even us?" Red asked with a smirk.
"Are you a sadist or something?" Gaz asked with a scowl at the leaders of the Irken Empire.
"I'd probably say no, if I knew what that was," Red answered, giving the human an odd look. "So, what's the deal with this...Gaz-thing, Zim?"
"Wow, your boss actually remembered my name," Gaz remarked as Zim grinned into his shirt.
"Huh?" Purple said, looking intently at her. "You...do know your collar has your name on it, right?"
"It wh-!?" Gaz paused to glare at the snickering Zim. "You gave me a name tag."
"Written in Irken, yes," Zim confirmed. "Even among our kind, that is a known and common practice with pets."
"What happened to claiming me after you conquered Earth?" Gaz questioned with an annoyed look.
"I'm just easing you into it, Gazling, nice and gently," Zim assured before grinning as Gaz blushed with gritted teeth.
"Do you have to say that stuff right now?" Gaz asked in embarassment.
"Say what stuff?" Zim asked in supposed innocence.
"Anyone else feel like we're missing a joke?" Chin asked idly, eyeing the odd pair.
"Besides, I didn't see you complaining when you were testing the gauntlets out," Zim reminded in amusement before his chuckling turned into a cough.
"Zim, we should get you to a medical wing," the doctor suggested firmly.
"Zim has already allowed you access to my Pak's data, Doctor. Don't push it," Zim stated stubbornly.
"Really? Him and not Flan?" Chin asked in disbelief.
"Elite Flan will be fine," the doctor assured. "The wounds have stopped bleeding and I've sealed them properly on top of giving him a blood accelerant. But I have no idea what'll happen to Zim."
"She means she made his blood restore itself faster," Zim explained to Gaz offhandedly.
"Yeah, yeah, I got that from the context," Gaz waved off.
"I was going to suggest you teach this Gaz-thing to be more respectful to the Tallests, Zim," Sneakyonfoota started, suddenly sitting right next to the Irken-Human duo. "But it seems she has that problem in general."
"Great, the creep's back," Gaz murmured, cracking one eye wider to give him a glare over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
"You're a rude little alien, aren't you?" Sneakyonfoota murmured, eyeing her intently.
"Sneak, Zim's condition is not nearly as bad as when we fought," Zim warned without even looking at him.
"It's fine, Zim, I don't need you defending me all the time like I'm some damsel," Gaz assured with her arms crossed.
"What's a damsel?" El asked curiously.
"That I don't recall," Zim answered with a shrug.
"As for you," Gaz stated, turning her attention fully on the tall Mody. "Assume I was a...respectful pet for a moment. Why would I respect any of you after the shit you put him through-" she paused to jab a finger at Zim before continuing. "-AND after you got your pak handed to you on a silver platter? At what point am I supposed to respect you?" Gaz challenged.
There was dead silence in the room as every Irken stared at the little human. Or, in some cases, watched Zim's proud, smiling face. Sneakyonfoota held her stare for a moment more before turning to Zim in interest. "Are all humans like this?"
"Oh, Kriff no!" Zim answered with a laugh, wincing only barely. "Zim picked only the best to be his trophy. She is the least human of the humans."
Red hummed in thought. Traitors to their own kind weren't unheard of, but it was still surprising when they showed up; surprising and dubious. "Doc, is Flan's pak fine?" he asked suddenly.
"Umm, yes, my tallest?" the unmodified Irken answered, wondering where this was going.
"Wake him up or set his pak to record this announcement," he ordered impatiently.
"I'm awake...my Tallests," Flan wheezed out in exhaustion. "Can I...lay here?"
"Oh. Sure, Elite. Anyone getting bit by Zim deserves some down time," Red answered before looking around, seeing that most of the Modies had moved to be around and near the group. "Okay, this has taken a bit longer thanks to Zim, so I'm just going to get straight to the Spooch of the matter. All eight-NINETEEN of you are to be given the now restored title of Irken Warlord."
Even Zim had a surprised look on his face. "Is he serious?" he asked to Tenn, who nodded stoically.
"I take it that's good for you?" Gaz speculated.
"I didn't think he meant "warlords" literally, I thought it was just code for something," Zim said, more to himself than to answer Gaz.
"If you're done," Red interrupted with irritation. "The meaning of this is simple: You will all return to your assigned worlds, or be given one, and continue your operations, but with some changes to your objectives. You are no longer just invaders; your goal is to take control of the planet or exterminate the dominant species if needed."
"Or both, we really don't care too much," Purple added in helpfully.
"Yes, yes. While the planet will technically be under the Irken Empire, it will be your domain to rule and deal with as you see fit. From there, you shall expand to conquer any planet not on the Irken Empire's List of Avoidances, any planet already targeted by another Warlord, or any planet in the current campaign path of the armada. As before, you may request any resources available you feel needed, but as normal, don't expect a yes to anything big without good reason or prior success. Your end goal should be self-reliance, unless in the face of a true threat to the Empire. How you handle your conquered planets is entirely in your purview and power until we say otherwise. Any questions?" Red finished up, scanning the room- and groaning as he saw one hand raised. "Yes, Zim. What do you want? More tanks, robots? An army?"
"I want two Irkens," Zim answered bluntly as he rose to his feet, the crimson leader looking at him oddly. "Just two. And you probably won't hear me asking for anything else of importance for a long time, My Tallests."
"And what two would those be?" Red asked warily, interested in what or who Zim wanted so much.
"Invader Skoodge and Table-Headed Service Drone Bob," Zim answered with a small, knowing smile as the other invaders looked surprised.
"Skoodge is dead," Red stated factually, raising an eyebrow. "And who is...?"
"Bob won a bet, and some Irkens are sore losers, or so he said," Zim mused teasingly. The others looked confused, save some who were as wide eyed as the tallest.
"Ohhh, Tark," Invader El remarked with dread.
"You know him?" Chin inquired with a tilted antenna.
"I owe him a lot of Monies," she responded uneasily.
"But...isn't he dead, also?" Purple recalled in confusion.
"Then you shouldn't have any problem assigning two small, "dead" Irkens to my command, would you, My Tallests?" Zim questioned with a grin, as if he won something.
Red held his stare a bit longer before sighing, seeing no reason to deny the request and seeing a lot of minor benefits- like never having to pay Bob his winning. "Fine, you can have those two. Why you want them, I don't really know or care, but good luck finding them."
"Thank you, My Tallests," Zim said with a nod of the head, tilting his head at them. "We done here?"
"Um, yeah, actually," Purple answered with a shrug. "I mean, we have to assign all the non-Invaders to a planet of their own, but other than that."
"Excellent! Anyone desiring a trip to Foodcourtia? My treat?" Zim offered with a grin.
"What?!" Zon yelled, leaping up from where he had been propped up against a wall. "You barged in here, beat the kriff out of us, and now you're buying us dinner!?"
"Would you have rather he started with dinner before the main event?" Gaz jabbed with a smirk.
"You stay out of this, Alien!" Zon retorted before rounding on Zim once more. "Do you really think we're just going to pretend nothing happened?!"
"No, but Flan's condition is now best remedied by consuming food," Zim answered uncaringly.
"He's not incorrect," the doctor agreed with a sigh.
"And I only fought you all because the Tallests wanted me to," Zim reminded once more.
"I want to, but can't, refute that," Red murmured irritably. "Look, we were already going to rescind the protocols about keeping you all a secret from the rest of the Empire, so you can go with him if you want."
"You want us to have a meal with ZIM? My Tallests, are you joking?" Zon asked in disbelief.
"What's his problem?" Gaz asked Zim under her breath.
"There's a list," Zim answered in kind.
"No, but it is about the only time he ever offered to do anything for anyone else, so I'd enjoy the anomaly before it corrects itself," Red answered, giving the Mody a warning look.
"How is he even going to pay for all of them?" Purple wondered to himself.
"So, is anyone interested? If not, we're just heading back to Earth?" Zim prompted impatiently.
"I'm...in," Flan answered with a weak wave. "But only...if Tenn comes."
"Fair," Zim accepted, glancing to the female invader.
"I am legitimately starving," she admitted, pushing herself off the wall to go and help Flan up.
"Good, I know just the place," Zim declared, before looking to his ship that was still lodged in the wall. "As soon as Zim deals with his Voot Cruiser."
Timeskip
"This is Data Dispenser Telm on the Imperial Irken Broadnet for all non-Irken and those not paying attention to your PAK's News Updates: The Almighty Tallests have declared today the reinstatement of the ancient position of Irken Warlord, along with the reveal of a project kept secret for nearly twenty years. A Modified, or "Mody" Irken, is an Irken whose genetic sequence has been enhanced greatly, causing a transformation that grants them a body far superior to their previous one. The details of how, why, and who are all unconfirmed as of yet, but we do know this: The enemies of the Empire should be very afraid when and if they have to face these Modies."
"Modies, huh?" Sizz Lorr murmured as he turned off the television.
"Think we'll get some of them as customers, MY FRYLORD!?" Gashloog asked jokingly.
The owner of the Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster grunted at the question. "Like big shots like that would be caught down here, Gash. They probably get their own food makers or get it sent in straight from Snackonia III," he retorted as he scanned over the restaurant. Everything was as it always was: Customers eating and tormenting the Service Drones that were his employees, everyone was staying clear of Booth Twelve, and there was a group of tall Irkens coming to- "Look sharp, we actually do get some important customers," he instructed sternly, wondering who was high up in the height food chain yet hungry enough to give his place a shot.
"Welcome to SHLOOGORGH'S Flavor Monster, may I TAKE YOUR ORDER?!" Gashloog called as the group came through the holographic door.
Sizz Lorr was taken aback by the group that came in. Even the shortest was above average for an Irken, and they all had four arms. One was almost as large as himself, and one of them could rival the Tallests!
His surprise turned into a scowl as he finally noticed a familiar, arrogant face in the group, waltzing up to the register with a purple haired thing walking beside him. "Zim," Sizz Lorr recognized coldly.
"Sizz Lorr, long time no see. You got room for twenty?" Zim asked casually.
"What are you doing here? Reporting for duty?" Sizz Lorr asked threateningly.
Zim chuckled. "Hehe, not quite. I've gotten promoted recently and decided to treat my new peers to a treat," Zim answered, shrugging his second set of arms.
Sizz Lorr stared for a moment longer before something clicked. "You're a warlord," He deduced, Gashloog swallowing hard next to him, the counter groaning and creaking as the Frylord gripped the side.
"Correction: WE are the warlords. As in all of them. And, more importantly for you, Zim is now a paying customer," Zim clarified smugly.
Sizz Lorr gave Zim a hard, suspicious look. "And you chose my place. Why?"
"Well, I thought the old Frylord could use the business-boost, but if you'd rather I take my monies elsewhere...?" Zim asked in a teasing tone, half turning towards the exit.
A chunk of the counter broke off in Sizz Lorr's hand. He glared at the broken piece before grunting in reluctance. "Fine. But you're sitting at Booth 12!" Sizz Lorr demanded to the grinning Zim, before leaning over to glance at the human. "Also, that thing isn't going to pee on the floor, right?"
"Oh, like you have any right to complain with the drinks here," Zim retorted with an eye roll as Gaz glared at the hefty Irken, the invader spinning around to address his fellows. "Alright, everyone gets one meal. Flan, Todog, you can both get two."
"Sweet," Todog thanked leisurely.
"Why Todog?" El asked in confusion.
"I like Todog," Zim answered bluntly as he headed to a seat, the group of warlords moving up to the register as he did so.
Sizz Lorr raised one brow at the group, noting the injuries and one looking pale while have to prop himself up with pak-limbs. "Let me guess, Zim?" he asked knowingly.
"Yes," Lud, Chin, Zon, and Totch all answered in sync, a few others just groaning or nodding in confirmation.
"He's paying," Chin added on.
Sizz Lorr gained a small smirk at that. "In that case, order the biggest meals you want."
Zim chuckled as he stopped looking over his shoulder. "Aww, that's precious. They think they can bankrupt me. Hahaha, fools. If GIR the Gainlessly Irresponsible Robot can't ruin me financially, nothing can," he said confidently.
"Where DO you get your money?" Gaz asked with a head tilt.
"Lets just say your brother's screw up is Zim's profit," Zim answered smoothly as they stopped at a booth, which happened to have a tentacle creature growing out of it. "Great, it's growing back," Zim said dryly as the abomination creeped towards Gaz.
The human glared at the thing and growled, eliciting a startled yelp from the mass before it scurried back into the seat. Zim let out a glorious cackle at the scene.
"How did she do that?"
Gaz glared up at Sneakyonfoota, standing beside Zim. "You again?"
"Shouldn't you be ordering?" Zim asked idly .
"I just got some Vort Dogs. I mainly just came along to ask you something, Zim," Sneakyonfoota answered, eyeing the mad invader.
"What, how not to get your ass kicked?" Gaz jabbed in annoyance.
Sneakyonfoota looked down at the human for a moment before turning to Zim while pointing down at Gaz. "I want one."
"Say what?" Gaz asked in surprise, looking at the tall Mody in shock, Zim tilting his head at his comrade appraisingly.
"You want a human for a slave?" Zim asked curiously.
"I want one like her, yes," Sneaky confirmed casually.
"Well, you can't have her, and I haven't stumbled across any like her. Plus, you know, Earth is mine," Zim reminded. "Don't you have your own planet to conquer and scrounge through?
"Eh, the Meshoans are going through a civil war thanks to my plan to take down their leader going off earlier than I expected," Sneakyonfoota admitted with a wave. "It's made the entire thing messier than anything, with all the little factions growing."
"Meshoans? Wow, your luck is terrible; they only became a global government recently, they should have been easy to subvert and control," Zim remarked conversationally. "What happened?"
"I needed a regime change; I misjudged how unstable their society still was. Next thing I know, there are revolutions, wars for independence, and Irk knows what else since I've been gone," Sneakyonfoota explained, tilting his head at Zim. "Your excuse?"
"Humans barely have the concept of a functioning global state, and the world is divided by just about everything: Particular supernatural beliefs with great and minute differences, slight physical diviation, and everything else a control brain could imagine, each stupider than the last," Zim elaborated in disdain.
"He's not wrong, my world is incredibly stupid," Gaz vouched without hesitation.
"Is that why you're not resisting Zim?" Sneakyonfoota asked curiously, but received no answer.
"There are nearly two hundred nations, and I can't just outright conquer them with superior tech until I have all the nukes accounted for," Zim continued.
"Nukes?" Sneakyonfoota questioned with a furrowed brow.
"Hmm? Oh, right, Human terminology- bombs fueled via atom splitting," Zim elaborated.
"Oh, lovely," Sneakyonfoota remarked with a groan. "Them killing off their own ecosystem wouldn't be too bad for you before you were charged with ruling the dirt ball."
"Or if they bothered to research how to neutralize the radiation, but I know that's asking too much of them," Zim said with a suffering breath. "Still, my point still stands, you can't have Gaz."
"And there's nothing you'd trade her for?" Sneakyonfoota asked, giving a knowing smile to Zim. "Looks like I was more on the mark than I thought."
Zim just huffed and looked away. "I seem to recall Bob mentioning a rather tall invader among the midst of those that owed him for that bet against me?" he reminded pointedly.
Sneakyonfoota grimaced at that. "I suppose I am a bit distinctive," he mused, scratching his large skull. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Zim can do many things, he simply declines to do all of them," Zim retorted, giving him a curious look all the same.
The stealthy Mody nodded past him towards another booth. Zim followed his gaze, seeing Zon sitting to himself. "Have a talk with him."
"Why? What's his beef?" Gaz inquired with her arms crossed.
Sneakyonfoota didn't deign to answer as he moved away, Zim humming as he stared at the back of Zon's head. "This should be interesting."
"Want me to hang back here with the tentacle?" Gaz asked, flinching at her own words. "And I just realized what I said."
"And there he is, the Doom of Impending Doom I!" Todog called with a wide grin as he walked up to Zim carrying two boxes of food, not noticing Zon tensing at the word choice.
"Todog! It's been a long time!" Zim greeted in a happy tone that surprised even Gaz as the two Irkens shared a brief hug. "It's been, what three years since you flunked out of Invader Training?"
"Three years and twenty-three months, but who's keeping count?" Todog answered rhetorically. "Irk, what are the odds we both ended up Mods?"
"About as likely as me finding an actual planet to invade on my "special" mission," Zim remarked with a chuckle.
"Yeah, real nice hijacking the Massive by the way," Todog said with both annoyance and amusement. "You have any idea how long I was helping clean up that mess?"
"Oh boohoo, you actually had to do something you lazy smeet," Zim returned as a good-natured jab.
"Yes, the evilest thing you've done in nearly two years," Todog remarked overdramatically, holding out one of the boxes. "Here's yours. You still like moose-shminkies?"
"Eating, yes. Making? I'd almost rather dance in hot grease again," Zim said dryly as he took the contained, surpressing a wince.
"Poison still bothering you?" Todog inquired in concern.
"Not nearly as much," Zim answered before his eyes shifted over to Zon. "Mind sitting with Gazling for a moment?"
Todog looked from Zim to his target and back before nodding. "As long as I don't have to be in the middle of the kriffstorm."
Gaz rolled her eyes. "Zim, I don't need a watcher or any-"
"Gaz."
The purplette turned her gaze upwards in surprise from the tone, seeing Zim was sending her a hard look. She held his stare for a moment, her dream flashing briefly in her mind, before clicking her tongue in resignation. "Fine."
Todog watched Zim leave with the expression one would have while watching a train wreck. "Well, this'll be eventful," Todog remarked as he sat in the safe side of the booth, Gaz sitting next to him. "You want some?" he offered, opening the box to reveal strange things that looked almost like fur-covered French fries.
"Geh. No thanks," she answered, not even sure if that was edible for humans.
Todog shrugged, glancing to the tentacle that was peering over the edge. "How about you?"
"So, what'd he do?" Gaz asked curiously as she watched Zim go.
"Hmm? Who?" Todog asked in confusion, watching as the limb cautiously inched forward.
"Zim. A lot of you obviously hate him, and I keep hearing about this Impending Doom I," she clarified, glancing at him intently. "What happened?"
Todog stared at her cautiously for a moment as he fed the tentacle one of his shminkies. "That is a can of bliffmogs that I am not opening. You're his pet, ask him yourself."
Gaz rolled her eyes before deciding to change tracks. "Speaking of that, how dead would I have been if not for this collar on my neck?"
"You were on our greatest battleship, in the same room as our leaders and members of a secret project, all of whom you disrespected," Todog pointed out. "Death was hardly the worst that could have happened."
Zim, meanwhile, took a seat across from Zon, who had his head down against the table. "Seat's taken," the elite grunted.
"I doubt that," Zim answered, giving a smug, pleased smile as Zon sat right up, surprise turning into a glare at record speed.
"Zim. What do you want?" he asked frostily.
"Well, you seem to have something you wanted to get off your spooch, so here I am," Zim answered casually as he took a bite of his own moose-shminkies, siting sideways in the booth with his legs on the rest of his seat.
"Something off my spooch?" Zon repeated slowly, carefully, before shaking his head in disbelief. "You're really amazing, Zim."
"Thank you! I'm glad you finally noticed," Zim returned with a wide grin.
"An amazing piece of kriff!" Zon hissed out, getting Zim's attention. "You actually think you can just pretend like nothing happened?"
"I'm hardly pretending, Zon," Zim retorted with an eye roll.
"You bastard," Zon said before letting out a long, frustrated sigh. "I hate you, Zim."
"Oh?" Zim asked, giving Zon an expectant look.
"You destroyed everything I cared about in Impending Doom I! My home, my comrades, my friends! Everything that ever mattered to me or I aspired to, gone, because of you!" Zon hissed wrathfully, slamming both of his right arms on the table. A few glanced their way, but only the other Irkens gave them more than a moment's look.
Zim looked neither surprised nor impressed with the outburst. He just sat there, studying the Irken simmering with loathing just beneath the skin, as if looking for something only he knew how to find. "Is that all?"
"Isn't that enough?" Zon asked with snort, disgusted with the apparent apathy. "Like it matters. Now, you've officially gotten away with that, because you just HAPPENED to be a Mody."
"Oh please," Zim scuffed, giving Zon a look that clearly said he didn't believe something. "If you're going to rant, at least be honest. You're not angry because Zim has immunity, you're pissed because Zim is a Mody, a Reverted," Zim stated, smirking as he leaned forward, the Elite giving an odd look. "You hate that your plan to kill Zim with your new form is no longer viable, as I clearly showed."
Zon went stock still, the entire universe going deaf to him, save Zim in all his twisted smugness. "How...How did you know?" he asked, his shock rapidly evaporating into rage.
"You haven't exactly been subtle," Zim remarked uncaringly.
"I'll get stronger, better than you, Zim. And when I do-" Zon warned.
"I'll crush you again," Zim said flatly. "And again, and again. We could fight every day for a hundred years, Zon, and Zim will tear you apart each time."
Zon simmered and shook in his hate for a moment before cooling into resentful apathy. "You deserve to die for what you did to Irk, Zim."
"You say that like it's the worst thing I've done," Zim mused with a hum.
"Of course it-" Zon started before the words actually registered, eyeing Zim suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"
"What indeed," Zim answered with an ominous chuckle. "You know, I'm sure you're wondering why I was even allowed to live after that."
"Oh, I have wondered so many times," Zon confirmed with a withering stare.
"Yes, but that's the problem: You're asking the wrong why," Zim informed vaguely as he stood.
Zon was begrudgingly curious. "What's that supposed to mean?" Zon asked in partial annoyance.
"It means, it's time to pay my bill," Zim answered said as he suddenly stood up and headed to the register. "Sizz Lorr! How much do I owe?"
"About four years you were supposed to be working here," Sizz Lorr answered evenly. "But for the meals, three-hundred forty-nine monies."
"You take Paythings, right?" Zim asked, pulling out what a human would mistake for a credit card.
"Do I look like a barbarian? Of course we do! You know we do, I taught you how to use one!" Sizz Lorr retorted in annoyance.
Zim rolled his eyes as he swiped his Paything, turning to face the rest of the warlords, all setting in booths, some with food already and others waiting. "Enjoy the food, my fellow Warlords, because everything after this is on your own dime," he declared as he started to make his way to the door, getting a few murmurs of thanks and farewell from the Modies. He slowed his pace as he looked over at Flan, color restoring itself to his skin and eating his third bowl of some kind of soup. He caught Zim's look and quickly averted eye contact.
He was keenly aware of Zon, Sneakyonfoota, and Tenn watching him leave but made no move to acknowledge them. "Todog, stop by Earth if you get the chance. Gaz, it's about time we left," he instructed.
"Good, this food was not worth the ride out here," Gaz remarked as they left the restaurant- but not before one of Zim's tentacle blasted the hologram projector.
"Dammit, Zim! You're paying for that next time!" Sizz Lorr yelled after the warlord.
"The Kriff Zim is! For all I knew, that thing was still set to blow me up!" Zim countered before they disappeared into the crowd.
"So, got what you wanted out of that meeting, Zim?" Gaz asked curiously.
"That and more, Gazling. That and more," Zim answered with a chuckle as he ruffled her hair. "Plus, I got to show off my wonderful little slave."
"I'm not your slave yet, Zim," Gaz reminded as she brushed the marking on her collar that she assumed were her name. Suspicious, she felt around the back and grimaced. "That's your name on the back, isn't?"
"Can't let them mistake you for belonging to someone else," Zim answered cheekily.
"Don't tell Dib, he's already thinking...weird things about us," Gaz requested.
"The Dib-stink says weird things constantly," Zim retorted, giving her a curious look. "Zim can take the collar off for the ride home, if it's bothering you."
"You have a very weird take on this "Enslaving Evil Alien Overlord" thing, you know that?" Gaz asked, trying to sound less amused than she really was. "Thanks."
"You're welcome, Gaz-Slave."
End of Chapter
Well, there's the aftermath of the fight, and Zim treating everyone to a meal. We also not only get a look into some of the other Irken, but Irken perception of Zim in general and his infamous history. Needless to say, there are those that really, really hate him for more or less legitimate reasons. Oh, and Sneak wants a Gaz of his own, lol. XP Next chapter, we'll be back on earth.
Well, until next time, I hope you all enjoyed this! Remember to check out the Tv Trope page and consider tipping to my pat-reon!