Chapter Text
Zim chuckled to himself as he placed his contacts onto his large magenta eyes, blinking a few times to allow them to seal properly. Today he had the best plan. It was all carefully thought out, each step meticulously mapped out as clearly as it could be (which probably isn't saying a lot because GIR was screaming in the background for 2 hours straight whilst Zim wrote it), and today, it would be set in motion.
Zim had been stuck watching a horror movie with his little hyperactive robot companion, and had noticed something quite interesting in one of the moments where he bothered to pay attention to what was going on in the film. One of the characters had used a chemical substance to put another human to sleep. The name of the chemical was far too complicated to remember, clora- cl… or… foam? Whatever. All that mattered was the end result of Zim's master plan.
With the help of his ingenious knowledge of chemical science, Zim had managed to perfectly create this chemical, and would use it on each and every human in the world through a SCARY GAS CLOUD that would be released through the ventilation systems of the buildings in the city, starting with the school. And afterwards, that would give him the perfect opportunity to capture them all, and inevitably repeat the process until the Earth was asleep and RIPE for the taking!
Yes, it was simply perfect. Slipping his wig on, Zim turned to face GIR, who was watching that weird monkey show he liked so much.
"GIR! You're in charge of the house until I'm gone. I'm not sure how long I'll BE gone but it'll probably be a while. Don't. Break. ANYTHING!"
"GOTCHA MASTAH!" GIR said sternly, hopping to his feet and saluting, eyes red as he prepared for his duties. However this ceased immediately, as GIR collapsed back onto the couch and continued watching his show.
Zim sighed, shaking his head as he opened the door to leave. He really couldn't get mad at that weird little SIR unit.
The walk to school was uneventful, as usual. There wasn't much to look at in this sleepy town, especially with all the kids heading to school. But as Zim approached the building, he began to realize something. It was going to be incredibly hard to place the gas machines he created in the vents if everyone was going to be there to see him creeping around. He had to get there while it was still early!
Zim rushed into the crowd of children who were piling into the building, pushing kids aside left and right, a scowl on his face as he silently cursed himself for this oversight. Gah! If only he could use his pak legs to speed himself up! As Zim squeezed his way through the sea of kids, he slammed into someone, who shoved him to the ground in retaliation.
Zim's head hit the concrete with a loud crack. Zim yelped in pain. Hopefully that would heal soon. Seeing stars, his hand went to the wound on his head that seeped bright pink blood, covering it up. Zim growled, whipping his head around to face the assailant.
It was Torque, that jock kid, he was scowling at Zim, probably for bumping into him. "How DARE you attack me, you wretched stink beast! You shall FACE MY WRATH!" Zim snarled, approaching him with his teeth bared.
However, to Zim's dismay, the look on the kid's face did not shift into one of pure terror, but rather confusion, as he stared into Zim's furious eyes.
"What? I think I stated myself pretty clearly, don't you?!" Zim huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms defiantly as he maintained his gaze with the confused human.
Torque's face only became unreadable, as he walked away shaking his head, saying something to Zim that he couldn't quite make out.
"That's right, RUN AWAY! LEST YOU MEET YOUR DOOM!" Zim yelled after him, shaking his bloodied fist.
The crowd had mostly dissipated by now, much to Zim's annoyance. Oh well, he would have to find some other way to enact his genius plan. Rubbing his aching head, he inspected himself for any other injuries. Nothing much, a few scrapes that were luckily not that deep, due to his clothing shielding his skin, but however, he had a slight dent in his pak. Ugh. He'd fix that later, clearly it wasn't too serious.
When Zim arrived in class, everyone was seated already. He silently joined them, sitting at his designated desk. The second bell had not yet rung, so his classmates were still chatting with each other and relaxing. Unfortunately for Zim, that meant a certain someone would most likely be confronting him soon.
And Zim's predictions did not fail. Walking up to him with a smug expression was his nemesis Dib Membrane. Stopping at Zim's desk, Dib slammed his hands down on the wooden surface, and pointed, presumably at Zim's injury.
What Zim expected to hear was some crazy accusation of his plans not going correctly, causing some horrific accident that resulted in the wound. But just as he was preparing a comeback for this inevitable accusation, Dib began to speak. Or at least, he tried to.
The noises that came out of the boy's mouth were unintelligible. A weird conglomeration of sounds that made absolutely no sense to Zim. What in the name of Irk did he think he was doing? Zim raised one eyebrow, expecting the kids around him to notice Dib's odd behavior, but nobody batted an eye.
"I don't know what you think you're saying, Dib-stink, but whatever it is, you've clearly lost your mind." Zim said matter-of-factly, resting his head in his hands.
Zim expected Dib to be embarrassed, to be angry, anything but the same annoying face that Torque had shown Zim earlier that morning. And not only Dib looked at him this way, but pretty much everyone in earshot of the two.
Zim furrowed his brows, "WHY does everyone keep LOOKING at me like that?! Can you all not see that the Dib is the one acting crazy?! Just listen to him!!" Zim was met with silence.
Dib said something to Zim, still speaking those weird noises. His confused look quickly morphed into one of triumph as he put one foot on Zim's desk, and turned around to face the whole class, yelling something that everyone was quick to roll their eyes at, and return to what they were doing. Zim was beyond perplexed at this point.
Dib grumbled, shooting Zim a dirty look before stepping off of the desk, and walking back to his seat, not breaking eye contact the entire time.
Zim shook his head, and began to eavesdrop on the other kids. But the more he listened in, the more he began to realize… Dib wasn't the only one who was speaking weird. Everyone was. Zim's antennae shuffled underneath his wig, trying to discern what they were hearing. The gears slowly started to click in Zim's head. Something was very wrong here.
Zim whipped around to look at his damaged pak, and he finally started to understand. His translator chip was broken. The chip installed into every Irken pak at birth. The chip that allowed the Irken empire to communicate with every lifeform they encountered.
Zim began to hyperventilate, struggling to keep calm. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't! Was Zim really speaking Irken to these kids, and he didn't know it?! His language always came out as English to the humans he spoke to. Their language always sounded like Irken to him. Zim was so used to being able to understand everyone that he never even thought about the possibility of not being able to!
Zim's claws raked the wooden desk as he stared at the clock on the wall. The bell would ring any second now. Then Zim would be trapped in this place for the whole school day, unable to understand anyone, only being able to speak Irken to these humans. He'd have to make a run for it. He could still make it!
Bolting away from his desk, he dashed out of the door to the classroom. But just as he was about to run down the hall, someone grabbed the collar of his shirt, halting him immediately. Miss Bitters. Great.
She looked down at him, eyes squinting. She asked him something, clearly expecting an answer, to which Zim gave her a shaky smile, terrified. She growled, shoving him back into the classroom, giving him no choice but to trudge back to his desk. He could feel Dib's gaze burning into him from across the room like hot coals.
Miss Bitters began to speak, most likely announcing what today's lesson would be about. Zim never would've expected to wish so desperately to know what the subject would be. He stared ahead, dripping sweat. He had to get out of here.
About 20 minutes had passed, and Zim had been able to squeeze by without being spoken to. Miss Bitters had raised an eyebrow at him at some points, as if she expected him to fill the classroom with the sounds of his absurdly loud voice, but other than that, she seemed to be enjoying the calm.
Dib on the other hand, looked like he was about to explode. He had been staring at Zim this entire time, just ITCHING to call him out on his weird behavior. However, he managed to stay silent, knowing he would be instantly shut down.
Ms. Bitters must have asked the class a question, as some hands began to raise. Zim didn't raise his, trying to avoid any interaction whatsoever, but the one word that Zim could understand without his translator chip sliced through the silence like a knife.
"Zim." Ms. Bitters called on him. Damn it.
Zim was out of luck, his only hope was to pretend he couldn't hear her. Zim looked down, his gaze remained locked onto his desk as he desperately wished he could just disappear. But Miss Bitters just kept saying his name, each time becoming more aggressive than the last. She then approached his desk and repeated her unintelligible question loud and clear, right to his face.
He looked up at her, and with the same awkward smile he had given her earlier, he shrugged. Miss Bitters looked furious, but her angry expression was overtaken by one of pure curiosity and suspicion. She leaned in closer and asked him something with a tone as cold as ice.
Zim shrugged again. With a massive sigh, Miss Bitters said one word, which Zim, judging by the familiar tone alone, was sure he knew what it meant, and she returned to her desk, calling on someone else. He would just have to sneak out of the school and back to his base before she could find him and drag him away for detention after school.
The lunch bell could not have rung any sooner, Zim sprinting out of the room as quickly as possible to hide in the bathroom. And maybe sort out what was wrong with his pak. He bolted into one of the stalls and slammed the door behind him, heaving a sigh.
Zim then removed his pak, keeping an eye on the life clock as it began to tick down. He inspected the dent, opening up the bottom right glass hatch to peer inside. Placed just barely away from the mess of complex technology that was sealed away from touch with an electric barrier to keep it safe, there was the designated spot for the translator chip. It was placed outside the protective barrier so that if it was ever damaged, it could be repaired. But when Zim looked inside his pak, he could easily see that his chip was missing.
Another wave of panic swept over the little Irken as he tugged his wig in horror, "My chip, IT'S MISSING! How could it have fallen out?! It must be LONG gone by now!! HOW WILL I CONTINUE MY MISSION WITHOUT IT!?" He wailed in despair as the hatch closed, and his pak reconnected to his back.
Zim's tantrum was interrupted by the loud sound of the bathroom door slamming open, and the sound of Dib's voice. He was calling Zim's name. Without thinking, Zim began to protest.
"LEAVE ME BE HUMAN! NOTHING IS WRONG! JUST GO AWAY!!" He yelled from his hiding spot.
Dib fell silent, as if in thought. He called something to Zim, before the sound of the door closing could be heard. Zim sighed, relieved, opening the door to the stall. He could barely even make it two steps out of the stall before he was slammed to the ground again, his limbs unable to move.
There was a weight on top of him, and Zim turned his head up to face it. Dib. He had tricked him. Zim hissed and spat, yelling curses to his captor as he held him down, staring intently at his pak. Dib must have noticed the dent, because something seemed to click in his brain.
Dib clapped a hand over Zim's mouth to shut him up, and he tried to speak slowly to him, as if that would help. Dib seemed to realize this and facepalmed, before thinking of something else.
Zim had settled down by now, but was still fidgeting under Dib's grasp, very displeased with being held down like this. He was surprised when Dib began to speak broken Irken, his tongue failing to wrap around the sounds properly. He seemed to be recalling some of the words Zim had spoken to him earlier.
"Jist… liii..listenn? Too.. hhimmm." Dib said pathetically, clearly struggling with the pronunciation.
Zim perked up, managing to wiggle out of Dib's grasp. He stood up, trying to recall what Dib had called to him when he entered the bathroom. He tried to replicate the noises, to which Dib winced, shaking his head and groaning. He then began pacing in circles, muttering to himself, clearly having a fierce mental battle with himself over something.
Zim decided this was his chance to escape. He shuffled to the side, eyes darting back and forth from the door, and to Dib. Once he was close enough, he carefully opened and closed the door, slipping out into the hallway unnoticed.
He'd have to make a run for it back to the base. There was no way in hell he was going to risk being forced into conversation once again while he was still in this state.
Stopping at a corner, he gripped the edge of the wall, and peered over it, inspecting the hallway. Nobody there. Everyone must be in the cafeteria already. If he took a left down this hallway, it would lead to the cafeteria, but if he went straight, there were only more classrooms. The one way out would be through the cafeteria, and he most definitely didn't feel like running into more humans.
Looking up at the ceiling, he spotted a large vent. Oh right. He was planning to plant a gas bomb there. Surely he could do that on his way out of the school, but… agh, no. He'd need to return to capture everyone, and the effects of this chemical only last so long. Oh well, he'd just have to do it later.
Making sure nobody was coming, Zim extended his pak legs, and reached up at the vent, working at the screws. By the time he had managed to open up the vent, causing it to come crashing down, he heard something. Footsteps. And shouting. Dib.
Zim's eyes widened as he saw Dib rushing down the hallway, looking determined and angry. They locked eyes, and Zim screamed, immediately launching himself upwards to grab onto the vent's opening, pak legs folding back into his pak. He thought he was home free as he struggled to heave himself up the whole way, but then he was yanked back.
He yelped in shock, looking down. Dib had grabbed onto his leg, and was hanging from it, attempting to pull him out of the vent.
"UNHAND ME YOU FOUL CREATURE!" Zim shrieked with a wave of his leg, his claws digging into the metal in a desperate attempt to push himself further along into the vent, but Dib didn't let go. Instead, he yelled something at Zim, and grasped further up his leg with his other hand.
Zim hissed, and took out one of his pak legs, reaching down to slash across Dib's face. As it made contact, Dib let out a cry, and finally released Zim's leg, falling to the cold hard floor with a loud slam. Retracting the pak leg, Zim finally made it all the way into the vent, hyperventilating as he made a beeline for the general direction of the exit. He could hear Dib's frantic yelling, but made no effort to try and guess what he was trying to say.
The way home was a rough journey. For one, it's hard on its own to sneak out of school, especially through the vents when you have no map, but Zim felt as if his entire world was spinning and he was going to collapse on the ground halfway there. So when he finally made it back to his base and slammed the door behind him, the sound of GIR's excited voice filled him with a sense of overwhelming relief that he never thought was possible.
"HIYA MASTAH! YOU'RE HOME EARLY!" GIR squealed, leaping up from his spot to come see Zim (and promptly falling on his face when he reached him).
"Oh thank the Almighty Tallest I can at least understand YOU…" Zim breathed as he sank to the floor, his back against the door.
"You can?!" GIR said, utterly astonished, standing back up and soaring over to crash back on the couch.
Zim got up, and immediately turned his attention to a solution to his pressing issue, "COMPUTER! Create a new translator chip, IMMEDIATELY! Mine has gone missing!" He demanded.
"That is unfortunately not possible." The computer stated plainly.
"WHAT?!" Zim yelled, "Why not??"
The computer sighed, "Translator chips are made out of incredibly complex Irken technology sorted and stored in smeeteries, hidden away from the average Irken. The tech used to make these chips are so complex and rare to obtain that even getting your hands on it would be an impossible feat."
Zim's mouth fell agape, and he stared blankly ahead of him in silence for about 30 seconds, before leaping to his feat and clutching the sides of his head in horror, "NONONONO NOOOOO!! THIS CAN'T BE!!! I need to be able to communicate with Earth life if I am to complete my mission! This is BAD!" He wailed, beginning to pace in circles.
GIR looked incredibly confused, scratching his head before tilting it and asking "Why's ya so upseet?"
Zim however, was too preoccupied with freaking out to notice GIR's question. He did however notice a loud knocking on his front door, causing him to scream, and jump away from it.
"I'LL GET IIIITTT~!" GIR sang, leaping off of the couch and pulling on his dog suit.
Zim leaped forward, desperately trying to catch the little robot, "NO, GIR, DON'T OPEN THE-"
But it was too late. GIR was too quick for Zim, and had already opened the door wide in greeting of their visitor.