Author's Notes: Okay before we started, I would like to give a shout out to nightfallzx who has agreed to help me mold this story into a masterpiece worthy of being called Invader Zim! Thanks, nightfallzx for all of your insight, and I hope you will stick with me through out this story.

With that said Chapter 3 here we go!

(Somewhere In Space…)

[One Month later…]

He wasted no time leaving,

After all, the upcoming war depended on his success.

'You've got three years.' Zim told himself. 'Use your time wisely, don't rush this. A mission like this could make you, or ruin you!'

Zim shivered in fear at the thought for he knew the punishment for failure, for it was the same punishment as everything else.

DEATH!

He looked over his shoulder at his ID PAK. Every Irken wore them. They held the collective memories of all the Irkens before them. Their personalities, their skill levels, their high scores…. but some Irkens, they got fitted with damaged ID PAKs. These people were called "Defectives," and must be deactivated and erased; never to be remembered.

To be labeled as a defective was a death sentence, and one small miss step could get you stuck with it forever! It was every Irkens greatest fear to be seen as a defective, and many lost valuable sleep over it, but not Zim. And not because he wasn't afraid of it either. No Zim like all Irkens was afraid of turning defective, he just didn't sleep because he found the act pointless, and a waste of valuable time.

So, he prolonged his need to sleep until he would sometimes pass out from exhaustion. It was a bad habit, he knew this, but he did get a lot of things done faster because of it. So, he was never really bothered by the risk.

Of course, this was all besides the point!

Zim shook his head; he had a bad habit of rambling on to himself in his mind. 'Well at least I don't ramble on and on out loud to myself, now that would be embarrassing, and rather sad.'

'Focus Zim!'

'Right!'

Zim placed his Voot into autopilot and began studying the data drives from the probes along with his mission file.

"Doom, doom, doom~ Doom, doom, doomy doom doom-!" GIR sang happily.

Zim tried his best to ignore the bot. But this song of his had started up about a month ago after Zim had mistakenly mentioned 'raining doom down upon our doomed enemy's heads' and it showed no signs of stopping. The constant drone of 'The Doom Song' had now become part of the ever-present background noises along with the hum of the ship's engine, and the occasional beeps of its systems.

Zim sighed and started tapping away at the computer, running several scenarios to keep himself busy, and help him learn about the planet he was headed to. It was a simple way of study, but it was this method that had brought him much success. Zim would read a small portion of the data, or watch a small segment of video, and then answer a few questions that the computer would generate for him.

The questions would start off easy, like the one he was on now for example: "What is the color of the sky on Earth?" His computer asked.

"Blue." Zim answered, "But that can change depending on the time of day or the weather."

"Very good sir." His computer praised.

"Thank you, now hit me with the next one." Zim ordered.

"What is grass?" The computer inquired.

Zim thought for a moment, and then answered. "Grass is a vegetation consisting of typically short plants with long narrow leaves, growing wild or cultivated on lawns and pasture, and as a fodder crop."

"Well, that is correct, but most humans would not describe it in such a robotic way." The computer said. "Try answering it like a human would."

Zim thought again, and said. "It's that green stuff on the ground, duh!"

"Well done sir!" The computer praised again.

Zim smiled, the Tallest's probes had done him a great favor by scouting the Earth for him. Also, the human made probe that was found by the Irken scouts had revealed a lot about human culture, and their speak patterns. Zim had already taught himself 10 different human languages, however he knew thanks to the probes that there were at least 6,500 spoken languages on the planet today. Still, only about 2,000 of those languages have fewer than 1,000 speakers. Not that it mattered to Zim, no he made it his business to know all of them, after all, one day Earth would be under his watch. And Zim had no doubt the Tallest would keep him there as more than a bodyguard for their precious resources.

'Maybe they'll finally make me a General and allow me to be the over seer of the whole planet.' Zim smiled It was a nice thought. However, the Tallest hadn't done so already because they feared Zim's 'I'm so bored all the time' attitude could get him in trouble while accompanied with that much power. 'But if I can follow their orders and keep this mission as low key, and as boring as possible they'll see that I am ready!' He assured himself, before going on to the next section of information.

"Humans age a lot slower than Irkens do, both mentally, and physically, and do not live as long." Zim read out loud. He knew this kind of information was crucial for planning his disguise. "Most human's ages can be guessed by their appearances, and height." He read, and then said. "Computer stop the lesson and scan my body type." He said.

"What for sir?" The computer asked.

"These humans are dumb." Zim said. "But if they assume your age by looks and size, I need to know how old I will appear to them, so I won't strike up suspicion. For example, if I appear young and know too much that might raise a few brows."

"Understood." The computer said. "Scanning body type now!"

A red beam shoots out and passes over Zim momentarily before the computer continues.

"Scan complete, comparing results with data files from probes." It spoke. "Comparison complete, according to my calculations you are the average height and weight of most male teenagers on Earth."

"Teenagers?" Zim asked. "What is a Teenager?"

"A teenager, or teen is a human child who is partially grown up, but not all the way."

"What?" Zim asked.

"Here let me explain this way." The computer said, knowing that Irkens are considered grown up by day two of their existence. "A human is born into the world the natural way, and starts out being 1 day old."

"Okay I get that." Zim said.

"However, unlike Irkens, information is not downloaded into them." The computer went on.

"So how do they know things?" Zim asked.

"They have to learn them slowly, through experience and lessons given by adults." The computer answered.

"Wow, no wonder their so dumb." Zim realized.

"Yes, because of this they mature slowly, making most of them take 20 years or more to be considered adults in the eyes of the public." The computer went on. "An offspring, or baby as the human's call them, are usually from the age of birth to that of 2 years old. Then come the toddlers from age 2 to 5, then the kids from 6 to 9 years of age…. Sir am I going too fast for you?" the computer asked, looking at a Zim who had saucer sized eyes.

"Nope." Zim answered, "Continue." He ordered shaking his head.

"Very well, 10- to 12-year-olds are pre-teens, and 13- to 19-year-olds are Teenagers. These are the categories in place for children on Earth."

"So, you're saying I have the body make up of a child?" Zim asked.

"Is that a problem sir?" The computer inquired.

"No actually from what I have observed so far children are viewed as just that and humans see children as innocent, this could really help me fly under the radar." He explained. "Besides what child would be accused of being an alien scoundrel bent on taking over the world?"

"I see your point." The computers said. "Therefore, I will adjust your learning material." There is a pause, and then the computer says. "Since children go to school to learn about their planet…"

"School?" Zim asked. "What is school?"

"It's like the academy back on Zec." The computer answered. "It's where the human children go to learn the science, math, and history that make up their world."

"Really?" Zim asked.

"Yes, and since the school will teach you what you need to know I will teach you what you need to learn to pass as a teenager in the school system first." The computer explained. "According to my research you could easily pass as a senior in high school that would make you age 17."

"Okay I am 17 years old." Zim said. "And I am a senior at high school which means I have the remainder of this school year left of my childhood education." He went on, reading through a few of the computer's findings that were displayed on the screen.

"Yes sir, but the human school system will only take you so far, if you want to know the world at a professional level like you need to in three years' time, we'll have to do private lessons during the times you are not at school in order to better prepare you."

Zim nodded. "Very well proceed with the new lesson plan." He ordered.

The computer proceeded, and for the next four weeks Zim learned many things. Like how the people of Earth are divided, and how humans come in several colors, shapes, and sizes. That they identify themselves as different races, instead of the same people.

Zim saw this as a win in his book. If they thought as a divided front, then in all reality he was really taking over several very small planets instead of one big one.

He also learned that not all humans had the right to freely roam, depending on where you lived decided how much freedom you had, or how much schooling you would be given. Because of this Zim decides to set up his operation on a stretch of land the humans called North America. According to his research the American's had the freest reign when it came to their free time, and personal interest, they also offered one of the best forms of education on the planet.

So, with this decision in mind Zim submerged himself into lessons about American Teen culture, and soon was met with his first real challenge.

English!

It was so confusing, and teens made it worse with their texting! So many letters, and so many meanings! For example, just three small letters like LOL would say; laugh out loud, ROL which meant rolling over laughing. It took some time, but soon Zim knew exactly how to communicate like a typical American teen.

Of course, he wasn't the only one learning.

"Doom doo-oohh! What's that?!" GIR shouted, pointing at some of the photos that accompanied the computer screen.

"It's information GIR! And when I am at school it will be your job to roam the streets as my own personal probe absorbing knowledge for me to learn, and use later in my after-school lessons. We must learn all we can about these creatures and their planet so that we can fit in and bring DOOM UPON THEM!" He shouted, shaking his fist in the air for dramatic effect.

"Yes, my master!" GIR saluted, eye lights glowing red as he scanned the entire page in a matter of seconds. "Sir I have absorbed all the knowledge of this page and have decide that pretending to be a lower life form such as a household pet would allow me to roam the streets freely and gather this information that you require!" the bot answered in a droned tone, eyes still blazing red.

"Very good GIR." Zim praised. "I'll do a lesson on pets and decide what kind I want."

GIR saluted before allowing his eyes to revert back to their light blue. "Now what was I doing again?" He asked then giggled "Oh yeeeaaah, I was singing the doom song!"

Dark pink eyes widened in horror "GIR no! I beg o-"

"Doom, doom, doom- Doom, doom, doomy doom doom-!"

With a groan of defeat, Zim ran a hand down his face. Well at least he still had something to keep him occupied while GIR sang his annoying tune.

Zim forced himself to focus on his studies, reminding himself mentally how important this all was. And in a matter of seconds GIR's annoying song faded into the background once more as the invader got lost in the overflow of information, absorbing it for all it was worth. Soon he would know all the knowledge an average 17-year-old could offer, and maybe even a bit more.

'The people of Earth won't even know what hit them.' He thought laughing manically.

(Back with Dib…)

{Another month later}

He wasn't sure about this…

Dib bit his lip as he remembered the chain of events that led him here to this dark, and creepy warehouse before him.

After being recruited by Darkbootie two months ago, Dib had continued his normal life waiting for his new partner to contact him. However, for a time the Swollen Eyeball Agent was quiet, leaving him to his own devices, making him wonder if he had imagined their whole meeting.

Until today!

This afternoon after school Dib had received a letter in the mail, there was no return address, just a sticker of a swollen eyeball. The letter read:

Agent Moth-Man,

I know I have been silent for many weeks, but I am too close in another investigation right now to meet with you. However, the council insist that I start your training now before the creators of that transmission you uncovered make their way to our home.

Therefore, I have set up a training exercise for you at Warehouse 13, by the docks come tonight after 12 so I can observe your actions, and cretic you.

-Darkbootie

Of course, Dib had rushed over the second his sister had drifted off to sleep, but now at 11:59 the teen was hesitant. Could he really trust this guy? What if he was the alien responsible for that transmission and was using this rondevu as an excuse to get him to go somewhere alone at a remote part of town?

Dib shook off his fears and took a deep breath as he walked into Warehouse 13, either way it didn't matter, he had a job to do. Because alien or not Darkbootie was right, this was his only home, and he swore to protect it.

Dib looked around the dark, and rather large warehouse shaking slightly. He squinted all around him, but he could make out nothing in the darkness. "Hel…hello?" He asked.

"Awe, you made it." A voice said.

Dib whorled around as the lights came on around him.

There standing before him was a robot with a screen as the head, and on that screen was a dark figure of a man's outline.

"I had feared that you had gotten lost." The man said.

"Darkbootie?" Dib asked.

"Yes, Moth-man it is I." Darkbootie answered.

"How come your not really here?" Dib asked cautiously. "How do I know you're who you say you are?"

"Your fears are understandable." Darkbootie assured him. "Listen I would have loved to have been there in person, But I could not get away with so much work to be done."

"Then why are you training me?" Dib asked. "I'm sure there are other agents."

"There are." Darkbootie agreed. "But the council believes your discovery is linked to my work. They believe the same beings I'm investigating right now are linked to the ones you listened in on."

Dib nodded this made since, but he still was unsure; then again Darkbootie could possibly be keeping him in the dark for his own safety. He was just a kid, with no street smarts when it came to hunting down aliens, or book smarts since it was hard to tell fact from fiction when it came to the library.

"Okay what's the lesson about?" he asked.

"Sit." Darkbootie ordered, the robot's arms gesturing to a wooden chair.

Dib did and Darkbootie began.

"Over several years the government has been covering up UFO sightings, and re-engineering weapons from crashed spaceships." He said.

"Well yeah." Dib said. "Everyone knows that superstition." He said.

"Well, what if I told you there was more." Darkbootie asked.

"More how?" Dib questioned.

"What if I told you that not all the UFO's were sighted, or that not all of them crashed? What if I told you that throughout our history aliens have influenced us by pretending to be human, and living among us?"

"Why would they do that?" Dib asked.

"Some believe it's to help us mature as a race, like all a superior being wants to do is help us out." Darkbootie scoffed. "Others believe they want to be worshiped which may explain some of our human history of gods coming from out of the sky, like the Greeks and the Egyptians documented about, however I have my own theory."

"Which is?" Dib asked.

"To spy on us Moth-Man." Darkbootie said, as if it was obvious. "Think about it, we humans spy on each other, why is it so hard to believe that some alien tyrant would send his own spies to watch our every move."

"So, you think there are alien spies walking around, pretending to be normal while gathering information about us?" Dib asked.

"I don't think, I know." Darkbootie said. "True I haven't found any current agents of the enemy, but I have dug up plenty of ancient burial sites, of respected leaders, and members of tribes, only to discover remains that are not of our world, with DNA that does not match any known creature on this planet." A fax sheet of data printed out from a slot on the robot's belly. "Here read this."

Dib took the data, and was amazed by what he was seeing. "Are these DNA strands?" He asked.

"Yes, they are, DNA that I took from the bones of the burial sites I investigated. I also looked up the history of the marked graves, one of those very strands was that of a pharaoh who was described by her people as the goddess of the stars." Darkbootie said. "Do you know who that Pharaoh was Dib?"

"Uh no." Dib answered honestly.

"It was Cleopatra herself!" Darkbootie exclaimed. "Her remains showed no human DNA."

Dib's eyes widen. "But how? How do they appear human?" Dib asked. "I mean Cleopatra had children! Where they aliens too?"

"That one is puzzling." Darkbootie admitted. "Some of her children's DNA had human components, but some of the building blocks are unknown."

"Almost as if their half breeds?" Dib asked.

"Yes, at least I think so." Darkbootie agreed, "But how they look like us is a good question, though I guess it wouldn't be too hard to believe that maybe, just maybe aliens aren't little green men out to get us."

"I guess they could look like us." Dib admitted. "But if their planets are different from ours that's unlikely." He said thoughtfully. "Maybe some technology of theirs can make them appear human to the naked eye."

"Yes, I thought as much too." Darkbootie's dark figure on the screen nodded. "However most of the remains are too old and damage to try to put back together, the only full body I've seen is Cleopatra's for obvious reasons, being mummified and all."

"And of course, she looks normal." Dib said.

"Naturally." Darkbootie mused. "As do her children."

"So, what's the lesson then?" Dib asked. "Trust no one?"

"No, the lesson is to know what to look for." Darkbootie answered. "Often the answer is staring right at our faces. For example…."

Dib stood as several cardboard paintings popped up around him.

"These are paintings, and newspaper photos of actual people in actual events around the world." Darkbootie explained. "I have identified 1 possible alien out of these seven can you find it?"

Dib looked at each painting, and picture before him, and shook his head. "They all look like people to me."

"Of course, they do." Darkbootie said. "No alien is going to risk looking different in such a judgmental society such as ours. So do not focus on their looks, focus on what else is in the picture."

Dib did as he was told, standing in front of each painting one by one, and looking them over. Of course, he could tell the importance of this exercise. To be able to point out an alien in disguise could save his life one day, but they all just seemed like ordinary people to him.

Then he sees it!

A picture with an item in the hands of someone who looked a bit too young to be holding it. It was a picture of a little girl with her long blond hair in pigtails, and she is sitting under a tree with a stack of books. Now at a first glance this seems innocent enough however upon closer examination the girl's books were way too advanced for a seven-year-old. And with a shiver he noticed that some of the topics filled his mind with possible end of the world out comes. For example, one of the books who's title he could clearly see read. "Dramatic Weather Changes Equals Disaster for the Planet!"

"You see it don't you?" Darkbootie asked.

"She could just be really smart for her age." Dib pointed out.

"Or she could be an alien studying on whether or not changing our usual climates will give her, and her people the edge they need to defeat us." Darkbootie insisted. "As a defender of the Earth we can't take any chances."

"So, was she?" Dib asked. "An alien I mean."

"Unfortunately, we'll never know." Darkbootie sighed. "I looked into this picture, and found out the Girl disappeared soon after it hit the papers. The picture was taken during the New Year's Day parade in England last year."

A cold shiver went down his back. There was no way she could be an alien, right? Sure Dib had searched for proof for years, but he was one of those people who was looking for the little green men! Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think that maybe the alien was hiding behind a familiar face.

Like a classmate, or a teacher, or even a 7-year-old Girl!

"You have your doubts?" Darkbootie asked.

Silence.

"Tell me Dib what did that transmission say?" Darkbootie, asked. "What did you hear?"

Dib's eyes widen, as he remembered the transmission.

"Dib?"

""The universe will be ours for the taking!" Dib whispered. "It's only a matter of time…"

"That sounds like war to me." Darkbootie said. "And how can they attack without first coming in under the radar and learning how we think, and how we respond to danger?"

"I…" Dib mumbled, still finding it hard to believe.

"Look if you are not ready, I understand." Darkbootie assured him. "But now is the time to tell me."

Dib bit his lip, and for a moment, he is tempted to back out, but something stops him. 'What am I doing? All my life I've wanted a shot at the real thing. I've searched for a moment like this forever, and now that I've found it, I'm just gonna run scared?'

"No!" Dib said. "I can handle this." He said firmly, shaking off the fear. He turned to Darkbootie. "Thanks for opening my eyes, I'll let you know if I see anything."

"No need." Darkbootie assured him. "I am closer than you think, and as your partner I will always be watching your back."

Dib watches the robot turn, and began rolling away.

"Goodbye Moth-Man." Darkbootie told him. "I'll call upon you again for another lesson soon."

Dib just watched him go; shaking slightly, and for good reason. Alien or not he still wasn't sure, but either way.

Darkbootie made his hair stand on end.

And that feeling of constant fear was unpleasant to say the least!

-To Be Continued