Chapter Text
Emergency upload signal = positive;
Executing: Neural-Projection Protocol…
Unpacking Data.PAKid315799905.Zim…
Unpacking… 30%
Unpacking… 65%
Unpacking… 99%
Err: host(PAKid315799905.Zim.pak)corrupt file…
Executing: Corruption Wipe Protocol…
Corruption Wipe Protocol = positive;
Activating Override Execution
Override Accepted…
Decrypting file(PAKid315799906.ZIM.pak)
Decryption… 100%
Compiling source packets…
Launching Executable(NPPchip.exc)
Connecting…
Connection Successful
Source(PAKid315799906.ZIM.pak)Online
Upload Complete
Execution Complete…
Welcome Online!
Zim grunts as the world shifts before his eyes. Inertia and vertigo overwhelming him. Murky red skies and pink covered sands fade in an instant, replaced with familiar blue walls. The soldiers that had been beside him now just an image in his memory. He can still hear the echos of their cries. His vision won’t stop spinning. He grabs for the nearby chair.
He phases right through it. His arm hurts after awkwardly landing on it. The trickle of pain that shoots up his arm is sobering.
That’s right, just a moment ago he didn’t even have that arm. The Irken gazes down at himself. Open palms, his usual black gloves.
He can see through them. He can see through all of him.
Alarmed, Zim climbs to his feet and takes in the room he’s in. It’s the same one he remembers, but it’s been changed. The cork board and paranormal posters are all gone. The bed is bigger, with a mess of black and grey sheets balled up in the corner. His blue ghost blanket is gone, and he now has black curtains drawn over the window, drowning the room in darkness. There isn’t even a single picture of him to be seen.
He worries, maybe he’d been gone longer than he thought…
He has no idea what date or time it is. When he tries to check, all he gets from his pak is an error code.
Err: command(sourcefind_PAKid315799905.Zim.pak_geologicaltimestamp)invalid
He finds it strange. His pak is built to function under any and all conditions. He’s used to the bajillion error codes but he’s never had its basic functionality fail on him. Perhaps it was damaged somehow?
But that couldn’t be right. He doesn’t remember…
…he doesn’t remember what?
What… does he remember?
He remembers a vast sandy desert, on a planet with raging winds and cloudy red skies. A storm was on the horizon. He remembers trekking through the sand with his group of soldiers. He remembers coming across a camp, and then…
Pink covered the sand. There were bodies all around him. He had lost his arm, and when he looked up-
-blue walls greeted him.
The door clicks open. Zim startles when the Dib human’s parental unit enters the room. He ducks behind the chair, grateful for the dim lighting. The human pushes the door shut behind him and collapses on the bed.
He had never seen the Dib-father without his usual science-robe. It was weird. He never would have guessed how thin and frail the human-unit actually was. What a clever way to hide his true weakness.
The Irken snickers behind his hand. A weakness kept secret no longer! He would remember this, should he have need for blackmail in the future. With that, he quietly creeps towards the door.
He doesn’t understand why the human would trade resting chambers with his parental-unit. Perhaps it was yet another human custom he would never understand. Either way, he needed to find the Dib-thing in order to prove if his suspicions are correct or not. And then from there…
His expression sours at the thought of it.
… he might not have much choice if it’s true.
Transparent black gloves reach for the doorknob. A familiar ping breaks the silence. His hand pauses. He turns back to face the human, who reaches for a pair of familiar glasses sitting beside the bed. Amber eyes squint at the brightness of the phone.
This is unmistakably his human. Zim curses himself for not noticing the glasses earlier, then again for how long he’d been gone for. He remembers that humans leave their hive once they are matured. He’s lucky the Dib hasn’t yet.
“Disgusting Dib-worm.” He sneers, stepping closer to the bed. It is his human who has become unbearably thin. It is his human with the dark circles beneath his eyes. “I have returned, wretched human worm-boy! Bow at my boots and beg for mercy as I have come to bring misery upon your pathetic existence once more!”
Only to be met with silence. The Irken glares at his subject, offended. Dib quietly taps away on his cellular device. His brows are furrowed, mouth pinched down the slightest bit.
“You dare ignore Zim?!” The Irken growls, stomping closer. Dib sucks in a deep breath, staring intently at the screen. A ping, and he suddenly releases the breath as if he were one of those human air spheres that suddenly got a hole. It’s as if the last of his energy left him with that breath. He looks defeated.
Zim bares his teeth.
“You think you can get away with-“
“I’m not crazy…” Dib whispers, laying the phone face down on his chest. He stares up at the ceiling, distraught.
Zim deflates.
“Dib.” He tries, serious now. No response.
Zim reaches out with a gloved hand to touch the resting platform. He expects to phase through it. He’s surprised when he doesn’t. The Irken climbs atop and stands beside him. Crimson eyes shine in the darkness. Black gloves clench into fists. He bends over him, holding his head directly into his line of sight. Troubled Amber stare right through him. Something in his spooch twists uncomfortably.
“Why can’t you see Zim?” The Irken questions.
Again, no response.
“Ah,” He tries. “You should know better than to think that your foolish Earth tricks have any effect on me, pig-smelly.” Zim states, allowing himself to sit on the mattress beside him. “Zim is the superior being. I will outlast this childish game you’re playing...”
The silence stretches on.
He thinks about red skies and pink covered sands.
Why was he there?