Chapter Text
Both the alien and the human noticed the bleak yellow glow that began to emanate from the Compass. And it needed not to be acknowledged, they both knew it meant that Dib will have to leave soon.
Zim felt weird, anxious. It was as if he was about to miss his chance at something. As if a door in front of him was slowly closing and he hasn't moved an inch in its direction.
But why would he?
What exactly awaits behind this metaphorical door?
After revealing so much to this other-worldly dirt child he didn't feel like talking to him more than was necessary. He was almost ashamed of how open he's been with him.
Even more so considering that he was still obliged to regularly go on those psychological evaluations, during which he refused to speak his mind.
When the signal of the airlock opening went off, Dib dived under Zim's bed, not leaving behind a single hint that he was ever here. This allowed Zim to calmly exit the quarters, following the service drone.
Dib, however, wasn't going to preserve the alien's nerves any longer, as he managed to slide his book between the airlock doors right before it closed.
- Cool! - he admitted, fixing his glasses.
He managed to sneak behind the two aliens down the hallway, before veering in the opposite direction.
Isn't it weird how the Massive's layout is almost the same in so many universes?
Soon enough he reached his destination: the maintenance department. That's where he'll get all the information he craves. He wasn't convinced that this Zim had just straight up told him the truth about himself. No, no, he needed to have a reliable source.
Not without some effort, he accessed the report files on the Irken computer and scrolled to find Zim's name.
He then hastily made notes of everything he found interesting enough, lingering quite a bit on this so-called "minute before death" protocol.
Huh.
So Zim was telling the truth.
He stared at a blurry image of Zim - not Zim anymore? - who struggled to settle in a too small for him - or was he too big for it? - ship, with an extra pair of arms and.. Were those wings? He didn't know Irkens had those.
He drew a quick doodle of this form of Zim's, before closing all the tabs he opened and exiting the room.
Mission accomplished.
***
- Would you say you felt content, knowing that your mission was important to the Armada? - his psychologist asked.
- Yes. - Zim said the opposite of what he was thinking.
There was a mere moment of silence before:
- Ookay then...
Zim tried to push the fear of being found out away, as he watched the Irken before him write something down onto the tablet. His antennae were still hooked up to this device that would go off if Zim was even slightly nervous.
- Do you feel like you're important to the Armada now?
- Yes.
Because sure he was. He was a very important tool.
- And onto the next question...
***
The Almighty Tallest Red and Purple have been leisurely laying on the couch, as they've been always doing ever since they've become the Tallest.
Purple sipped some kind of soda from an obnoxiously long silly straw, while Red ate chips, close to falling asleep from boredom.
Suddenly Purple spit their soda and pointed their finger at the screen. This, however, failed to catch Red's attention, so Purple nudged their side with their elbow.
Focusing their gaze on the screen Purple've been so insistently pointing at, Red's mouth fell open so the chip almost dropped from it.
- It's the urthling that called us "alien scum" once!
Red honestly did not know what their co-leader were on about, but they were utterly disgusted by just how enormous this "urthling's" head was.
- Purple, we need to get this thing - they scrunched their face in distaste - off the Massive.
- Agreed. Let's get Zim to destroy it. This pest is from his base after all.
- Call the guards while I come up with a plan. - they stared at the little figure on the screen sneaking around.
***
Zim entered his room and the other Dib was nowhere to be seen.
Zim's antennae fell.
Looking underneath the bed left him with a still glowing Compass.
He threw it onto his bed and started to pace back and forth in near panic.
"No. Nonononononononononononono!" - swarmed in his head.
A series of short beeps of the opening airlock caught Zim standing in the middle of the room, tugging at his own antennae.
For some reason it was difficult to tear his gaze off the floor and turn it to his Leaders.
Two Irken guards stood by their sides.
- Get the SIR unit. - Red ordered.
GIR was awakened from his sleep by the guards holding him above the ground by the arms.
- You know what will happen if you try to resist, right, Zim? - the role Red used to play now discarded.
Good thing they wouldn't have to baby one of the worst defects the smeetery has ever produced anymore. He should be thankful for this little play, because now the play time is over.
Zim's squeedily spooch dropped as he realised that he wouldn't be able to save GIR even if he wasn't frozen in terror. Tears were starting to prickle his eyes, threatening to well up in them.
He felt his body transforming as his PAK activated the.. Well, the name of the protocol doesn't really matter at this point, does it?
Everything went according to Red's plan. They were almost worried that they might've overestimated Zim's pathetic clinging to any type of machinery he was allowed to own.
Purple gave the confused little SIR unit a look. Red didn't tell them what the plan was going to be beforehand and they weren't sure if they liked it. But maybe it, once again, "wasn't made so they could like it".
A nasty feeling swirled inside of them.
What was this feeling?
Maybe they didn't understand Zim's tendency to get attached to pieces of junk, but what they did understand is that what Red were doing right now wasn't fair.
Were Red ever fair?
Zim stood up straight before his Leaders.
He was still conscious, unbeknownst to the Irkens in front of him, but all he could do was feel. Feel his powerlessness in his own body. His wrath towards his, previously thought to be infallible, Tallest.
- Kill the urthling. - an order.
And Zim could not disobey.
The metal spider-like legs emerged from his PAK, making him appear even more threatening.
The other Irkens in the room cleared the passage to the hallway for him by stepping aside.
Zim's body knew the way like a homing missile knows how to reach its target.
***
Dib ran for his life even though he knew he wouldn't be able to get away. He just didn't stand a chance.
His brain was scattered, not helping him focus on the ship's supposed layout.
His heart pounded, threatening to break his ribcage. Sprinting from a hallway to a room to another hallway, he pushed the Irkens that were unintentionally blocking his way.
The boy began to hope that he managed to break the chase off and could now stop, at least for one second, to take a breath, but his hopes were short-lived as he heard clacking of metal hitting metal behind him.
This was inevitable, after all Dib merely had superficial knowledge about the Massive, while Zim knew the place like the back of his three fingered hand.
Dib tried to fasten his pace, ignoring the pain in his side and nausea.
Zigzagging, as well as running into the crowd, didn't help at all. It was as if Zim somehow was always ten steps ahead.
Forward.
Turn left.
Left again.
Forward.
Forward.
Forward.
...
A dead end.
Did he fail to remember the correct way? Or was this universe's Massive just different enough?
The boy regained his composure.
Doesn't matter. He won himself some time.
His hand reached into his pocket. Then, his movements more jerky now, into another one.
The Compass.
It must've fallen out of his pocket in Zim's room.
He desperately and fruitlessly pounded on the solid wall with Zim getting closer and closer.
Dib turned to face the alien.
The last thing he ever saw were dull pink eyes covered in light cracks; as well as something glowing yellow in one of the alien's hands.