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Goddess Risen	By : ladylaguna Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2876 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Zim and all related characters - Viacom... All unrelated characters - Jenn L. I gain no profit from this writing.

Chapter List
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Vermeil weighed his options carefully. His first instinct was to simply launch into the solution, hoping that the explanation of the “Megami problem” afterward would sting less. However, it would still sting, and Vermeil feared for his safety. Panic overwhelmed him, and all of his common sense escaped from it. In the absence of all other judgment he resorted to being petulant.
Pointing at Zim, Vermeil cried, “It’s all his fault!”
Unsurprised at the fact that something could be Zim’s fault, Dib merely glanced at him. Zim, however, reacted in a violent explosion. “What is this you are screaming?! That is no solution at all! You promised us a solution!”
Vermeil began to yell back at him, and soon the room was filled with unintelligible snarling and flailing antennae and the two of them jumped at one another yet again. Dib came between them, narrowly avoiding handfuls of thrashing claws as their complaints assaulted his ears.
“ENOUGH! Shut the fuck up!” he cried as he pushed them apart with one hand and a stump. “What the fuck is going on?!”
“Vermeil gave the girl’s body to a Tallest!”
The boy immediately reared backward, just missing Dib’s groping hand. Falling onto the floor, he cried, “I didn’t give him anything—“ But it didn’t matter. Dib’s hand was quickly encircling his throat, hauling him up and slamming him against the wall. The entire ship seemed to shake; Zim whirled as he heard dishes falling to the floor from the kitchen area. Gripping Dib’s wrist uselessly, Vermeil dangled just inches from the floor.
“Explain. Now. Before I lose my patience.” His hold loosened just enough to allow Vermeil a breath, which he drew gratefully.
And then he launched into it. “The Betrayer put the Tallest Purple into a useless body and left him on Irkland. I showed up and Purple tried to take MY body instead. I wouldn’t let him, but he gave me a virus and tried to take over my programming. He was obsessed with the Nymph! He wanted all the power she’d leeched from you when she was born. SohemademebringherbacktoIrkland I’M SORRY I AM SO, SO SORRY—“
As each word had tumbled out, Dib’s visage tightened into a rictus of anger that seemed to distort his entire face. His fingers twitched at Vermeil’s throat, and the boy feared his neck would be snapped right then. Breath speeding up, hands shaking, he looked back into Dib’s eyes like a frightened animal. “I have her data inside my Pak! Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me until I can restore those files!”
Zim stayed silent in the corner, unsure of how Dib would react to the whole messy business.
Staring at Vermeil, Dib could only see that scared little smeet curled up under that desk, all those years before. Cursing violently, he threw the boy aside. Shielding himself with his arms, Vermeil collided with the wall, turning quickly just to watch Dib storm out of the room.
The two Irkens stood in silence for a few moments, listening for any sounds of an impending temper tantrum. When no breaking glass or yelling could be heard, they both crept out into the hallway to assess Dib’s location. He was back in his quarters. Which were also Zim’s, of course. So Zim decided to head there. Against his better judgment, Vermeil followed, opting to face the “problem” head on rather than have it return to him later on its own terms.
They arrived to find Dib behind the bar, pouring himself a second shot and throwing it back. Hissing, he gripped the edge of the counter with his good hand, leaning across it slightly. He stared straight ahead at the wall as he waited for the liquor to do its magic, face still taut with the last vestiges of his anger.
Both Zim and Vermeil stood in the doorway, watching him cautiously. Without looking at either of them, his voice deadly calm, he said, “Tell me about this solution you claim to have found.”
Swallowing shakily, Vermeil nodded. “Purple formed some sort of symbiotic relationship with the Control Brains on Irkland, I think. The Control Brains created a blank Pak, I think. For Purple to write his files onto. He attached it to the Nymph… Trying to just rip it back off could kill her or cause irreversible neurological damage.” He winced when Dib’s fingers twitched dangerously against the wood of the bar. “During the brief period in which the Pak was overtaking her, I interfaced with it and managed to do a backup of her files. The best way to get her back would be to erase his files from the Pak completely, and write in the files I copied from her. I think.”
“You THINK or you KNOW?” His eyes finally turned in Vermeil’s direction.
“Th… there’s no way to know for sure. It’s never been done. It’s an Unforgivable Act…”
Zim’s antennae perked. “You’re talking about Pak erasure. Deleting Purple completely?”
As Vermeil slowly nodded in response, Dib moved to dig around in one of his cabinets. “Big fucking deal, right? I remember when those Irken soldiers came after us—The captain tried to use that—Disruption gun thing…”
“Much to the disappointment of our Tallests, that did not work,” Vermeil replied. Zim merely glared at him with a mix of triumph and indignation. “My friend that you saw on Nirvana, Jai, managed to access numerous files from the Irken archives we thought were lost forever. This includes private files from our Tallests during that time period.” With some hesitation, he stepped forward into the room. “I was able to access a number of files that were intended for my own personal use.”
Dib found what he was looking for: a less advanced, but still functional prosthetic arm to replace the one he’d lost. Attaching it to himself with a soft grunt, he flexed the fingers and nodded in approval. The liquor had made his movements more fluid, but his foul mood remained.
“Long story short, my Tallest Red employed scientists to… refine the Disruptor’s programming, and overcome the failsafes that had evolved in Irken Paks over the course of 500 years. They discovered that information embedded in our Pak IDs helps guard our personal data.”
“Taking a half-millennium step back? Sounds about right for those guys,” Dib mused, returning to the kitchenette to hunt down some food.
Lip curling in disgust, Vermeil shook his head. “NO. Just the opposite. My Tallest Red did what he considered necessary to ensure the future of our people. Just… watch.” He approached the large vidscreen in the corner of the room, feeding a wire into it from his own Pak. Soon, it flickered to life, and the Tallest Red stood onscreen, staring down at the three of them.
It’d been years since he looked the Tallests in the face, but Dib still shuddered at the crisp likeness before him. However, his eyes seemed so much softer, a slight smile on his lips. And then Red’s voice rang out:
“If you are viewing this video, it means that I have likely perished in an unfortunate accident. These times are uncertain, I’m sure. You must be TERRIFIED right now! So, I, in all my benevolent wisdom, have decided to offer you some advice.”
Vermeil stood mesmerized before the screen. Though he had already played this video in his own databanks, seeing the Tallest before him brought so many memories flooding back. His knees felt wobbly and he forced himself to sit down on the edge of Dib’s coffee table.
“My sweet little smeetling… I have created this video for you to find should the unthinkable happen. If you were smart enough to unlock it, I am confident that you will have no trouble wielding the program I have included with these files.” Smiling, Red tapped the screen affectionately. “Having a pair of Tallests, you understand, was unprecedented! Normally we would have been obliged to fight to the death, but I loved my Purple dearly. He was my best friend! I requested that the Control Brains allow us both to rule in tandem. Once one of us passed on, the other could continue to rule uninterrupted! And to his credit, my dearest Purple never tried to kill me even once.”
“That you’re aware of,” Zim snarked, creeping toward the bar and taking his place on a stool there. Vermeil’s antennae flicked but his eyes did not move from the screen.
“But, as the years passed, I became aware of the fact that my Purple was not exactly… aah… FIT to rule. Which I am sure you, my smeetmeat, are becoming aware of RIGHT NOW. What to do, I asked myself?” Red paced a little, the camera following him. Turning back to it, he continued, “I considered many options. I broke many laws, I admit now—since I’m dead! Ha HA! Finally, I managed to produce a final solution. A terrible one, to be honest… But if my dearest Purple refuses to go quietly, you must employ it. It has been coded to his Pak ID and his only. It cannot be used on anyone else. Once it has been employed, his data will be permanently deleted from himself. It will not download to the Collective. This is only a last resort, you understand—but if I am dead and he did not come with me, then it is likely all that you have left to utilize.”
“So, basically, he knew that eventually Purple would try to kill him, and he wanted to get the last laugh,” Dib observed, scratching the scruff on his chin contemplatively.
Zim nodded. “With a blank Pak like that, it is possible that Red’s own files could be copied over. But he probably didn’t get around to that because… WE killed him instead.”
Red was still talking, and Vermeil still sat, transfixed. Despite the increasingly personal nature of the video’s content, he could not bring himself to turn it off just yet. Seeing Red before him in such a way, after all these years, soothed his anxieties in a way that nothing else could. Dib watched him, a strange feeling welling up inside him. Red was Vermeil’s “father,” after all… If Professor Membrane were standing onscreen just then, Dib thought he might have the same reaction. It occurred to him that his father was, in fact, dead. With everything that went down on Nirvana, Dib forgot about it entirely.
“The way in which you were created is rather… unusual. And incredibly illegal,” Red stated, curling his arms behind his back. “But never doubt that you are very much my dearest Thing. Now that I am dead, especially… I want all to look on you and think of me. I want you to be the utmost of my many fantastic achievements. I know that you will not disappoint me, because you have come this far.” Red pulled a long breath, sighing softly as he stared down at the floor. Sadness seemed to overcome him; he was clearly not pleased at arriving to this “last resort.”
“Do you remember him at all, Champ? The Tallest Red.”
Now that Dib had reverted to his little “pet name,” Vermeil felt safer. Cutting the video and turning to look at him, Vermeil nodded. “Some of my memory files have been corrupted by Purple’s interference, but… I remember my Tallest Red. He always took the time to speak kindly to me and give me treats. He would allow me to sit in his lap while they watched the vids…” He looked down at his own lap, seemingly going back to that moment.
“He must have grown fond of you. That’s why he sent you away, and went this route instead.”
Vermeil’s antennae wilted. He knew that Dib likely spoke the truth: He’d been created as one of Red’s failsafes. Presumably, Purple had been in on the plan as well, but Red had never intended for Purple to make use of his body had an accident occurred. Otherwise, there would have been two clones instead of one, wouldn’t there?
“So, you have this program he’s talking about?”
“Yes,” Vermeil answered. “I’ve already looked through it, it seems legitimate and complete. Although the only way to know for sure is to try it. And the only way to try it is to interface with Purple’s Pak.”
“Alright.” Dib was a father too, and he understood doing whatever it took to safeguard the well-being of the little creature that shared his DNA. Though Dib assumed Zim could wield this magic program as well as Vermeil, he knew Zim’s chaotic nature all too well… “We’ll just have to go fetch her. Are you sure you can do this? You’re not going to pussy out at the last minute? He is your father, after all.”
“Purple is not my father,” Vermeil replied, brow furrowing. He stood, communicating how resolute he was about this point. “He tried to take everything from me. He’s already taken so much from me. He is a danger to our race. I want him to be eliminated.”
Nodding, Dib moved from behind the bar, approaching the younger Irken. “Then you’ll get your chance. We’ll get you close, you delete that bastard, and you copy Meg’s files back over.” Looking Vermeil straight in the eyes, he finished, “And then, when I have my daughter back, you will leave. And I never want to see your face again.”
Vermeil’s cheeks drained of color. He would rather that this man beat him within an inch of his life. But what could he say? It was all his fault that Megami was in this position. And what life could he truly offer her? Huddling underground in Veloixs with animal hides to wear? While her father lived in luxury with all the food, clothing and entertainment anyone could want.
“So be it,” he replied, face betraying nothing. Turning, he left and strode back to his own room, where he closed the door soundly.
Zim sighed in relief. At least Dib’s anger had not been pointed toward HIM…
Dib immediately turned to Zim, leveling a withering glare in his direction. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do something so fucking stupid—Okay, scratch that. I understand. You’re Zim. But… a goddamn Tallest? After everything we went through to get rid of them?”
Frowning at the fact that he had not been spared, Zim jumped to his feet. “When I died, I went to the Collective. I saw him. He taunted me. And then I woke up in a universe without you. Without my Dib. And I had these powers! I couldn’t die. I tried. I went looking for you, you know. So hard did Zim look! But all I found was another Irken. He tried to kill me and failed, of course. So I killed him. And then I went looking for those Control Brains instead. I took the corpse with me. I thought perhaps it would be useful. And when I found the Control Brains and Purple, it was. With a little of this silly magic they cursed me with.”
“So you pulled Purple’s files back out and stuck them inside this zombie?” If Zim could mindlessly reanimate a corpse, his mastery of the Meekrob, even without training, could far outstrip Dib’s. The mere thought made him shudder in both arousal and horror.
“Yes. I wanted him to feel my pain. To never die, to always suffer in a stricken body! And he tried, oh, how did he try to sweet-talk me, to beg forgiveness! He groveled at the feet of ZIM! I laughed and left him on that planet he created, your home that he destroyed.”
Dib couldn’t deny that there was a certain poetic ring to it. But words did not come to his lips. Instead, Zim came to him, hands immediately sliding around his form. “You are with me now. We will go back to Earth. Where all of this started! And exact our final revenge. We will retrieve our smeet, that I made for us, and all will be as it should.”
It was the first time that Zim had really referred to Megami as something of theirs, something they had created together, their baby. Sighing heavily, he wrapped his arms around Zim, pressing his face against the top of his head. “Yeah. That’s exactly what we’ll do.”
Meanwhile, Vermeil lay curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. He could still detect just a hint of Megami’s scent on the pillows; his antennae caressed the material as longing filled him. Since he’d left her, he knew deep inside that he’d get her back. And now she’d been taken away from him again, without any ceremony.
“I’ll never abandon you, Vermeil.” Her voice haunted him now.
Shaking his head, he covered his face. “It’s for the best. It’s for the best.”
Now that he could sleep without anyone encroaching on his dreams, he forced himself to do so. Anything was better than thinking of her for another moment.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thankfully, Earth laid only a short jaunt from Nirvana. In the time it took to reach their destination, Zim and Dib commenced planning. Immediately after setting course, Dib began to peruse shopping options that could intercept them en route.
“What… are you doing?” Zim asked him, peering over his shoulder as his fingers flew over the keys.
“Buying a ship and other necessities for the kid. Anything to get him out of my face ASAP.”
Sitting next to him in the co-pilot’s chair, Zim watched him for a few moments. “Do you… truly intend to send him away?”
Blinking, Dib glanced at him before returning to typing. “Did I stutter? Should I go tell him again, to make sure he understood?”
“I think that he… loves the girl. The way that I love you.” Zim tapped a claw absently on the metallic arm of his chair. “When she is around, he changes his behavior. On Solstice, I saw it.”
“Why do you give a shit if he loves her or not?”
“Because… I love you.”
Fingers stilling entirely, Dib groaned and turned fully toward Zim. “What the fuck is your deal, Zim? Just spit it out.”
“Losing you… killed me. Losing her… might kill him.”
“Empathy? From you? I can’t believe it.”
“YOU taught me these things! YOU taught me to feel! And now you tell me to ignore these feelings all??”
“You tried to send me away, didn’t you? And I ignored you. I ignored all the warnings and stayed with you. To what end? I lost my life to stupid romantic bullshit. It was a waste.”
Zim frowned, rubbing his chest uncomfortably. The Pak nestled there seemed to be bothering him.
Returning to his work, Dib shook his head. “He knows it’s for the best. Because he loves her, he’ll let her go. Because she can’t live the life he does. Nobody would want someone they love to live the life he does. Which is why I’m going to give him clothes and money and tell him to make the best of it.” Drawing a sharp breath, Dib finished, “Then the debt between us is settled.”
Vermeil did not emerge from his room the entire trip, and Dib did not disturb him, even when the shipment arrived. Tackling their upcoming problem took precedence in Dib’s mind. Since he was more accustomed to punching, shocking and occasionally kicking his problems, he was not well equipped to face a combatant in his own daughter’s body. He finally settled for a few tranquilizer guns, giving Zim a pair of them.
When they neared the edge of the Earth’s solar system, Dib finally called Vermeil to the bridge and handed him his own tranquilizer gun.
“Do you think this will actually work?” Vermeil asked.
“Not sure. Do you think he’ll understand how to use the Meekrob very well? Megami herself did not.”
Vermeil shrugged, tucking the gun into his belt. “The way that Paks interface with the nervous system is hard to predict with non-Irkens. The biological brain becomes secondary to the Pak’s functions. However, an important symbiotic relationship still exists between Pak and brain. While Purple seemed to have no trouble overtaking her body, her thoughts may still dwell inside either her brain or the Pak.”
“Maybe we can convince her to come along quietly then,” Dib said hopefully, though neither of his Irken companions looked convinced. They were not inclined to say so, however.
Even from space, the Earth looked much different than Dib remembered. As the ship broke through the thick clouds of pollution, he ran a surface scan. The biggest result, a vibrant swath of energy amidst thousands of tiny blips, lay near the center of Irkland proper. They saw the light pollution on the horizon before reaching the park itself.
“This is different from before. Everything’s been turned on,” Vermeil observed, squinting over Dib’s shoulder at the viewscreen.
They drew nearer, and found many of the old rides moving on their own with no operators. The ferris wheel turned ceaselessly, empty seats swinging in the humid air. Dib brought the ship back and turned toward the entrance. “Distraction tactic, maybe. And there’s no fucking way we’ll be able to land around here. We’ll just have to hit the parking lot and walk from there.”
When they had disembarked, Dib took a few solid steps forward, inhaling the musty air. Polluted as it was, rich oxygen still filled every breath Dib took. The crunch of the asphalt beneath his boots seemed to echo in the silence that surrounded them. Music and machinery jangled in the distance, giving the illusion of life that did not actually exist.
Zim, having no real sense of caution, walked ahead of them. When he heard Dib’s feet slow to a stop, he turned back to look at him. “…Dib…?”
“Shit.” Tears were leaking down his cheeks. Swiping at his face with the back of his arm, he shook his head. “Sorry. I just… wasn’t prepared.” Drawing a deep breath, he pressed on, passing Zim and Vermeil. “Home sweet home.”
The gates slid open easily and Dib tried to sense in what direction Megami was hiding. The interference from the rides and booths made this task difficult. Zim slid up beside him, nodding slightly as he pointed to the east. “That way.”
Surprised at Zim’s sudden competency, Dib followed, Vermeil close behind. He hoped that Zim knew for sure what direction to move in… “We need to stay together, no matter what. It looks like he’s already been planning on our return…”
“Of course he has.”
That voice. Both Dib and Vermeil whirled in place, eyes darting out over the horizon, from booth to ride to building. Finally, Dib spotted the source; sitting on top of a small stall some two blocks away, face nearly obscured by the street light shining down atop him. One leg dangled over the brightly painted sign at the front, proclaiming “SNACKS!” in purple and yellow. Leaning forward, a hand on one knee, he waved to the three of them.
“Since little Vermeil here couldn’t pull off the Tallest’s plans, our Tallest saw fit to bring you both here! Now his revenge can finally be complete.”
Dib’s fists clenched at his sides, breath growing all the more rapid as he took one, two, three tentative steps forward.
“Dib,” Zim breathed, “Do you know that Irken?” He seemed familiar, someone that Zim had possibly met in passing during their military training.
“He’s the one… that gave me this tattoo,” Dib replied, rubbing his back in agitation, as if it was somehow paining him just by association.
“Turn back around, Vermeil,” Tzin called, pointing authoritatively at the front gates. “Take that ship and go to Veloixs for reinforcements. Bring them and that Viral Tank back to your Tallest and all will be forgiven.”
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Vermeil shook his head. “Lapis is MY ship! Purple is NOT my Tallest. And you are not—nor were you ever—my superior. I am YOUR superior! Tell me where Megami is! That’s an order!”
“Conceited little shit!” Tzin stood, laughing. “You’ve aligned yourself with the Fuck Pig and the Betrayer because you could never amount to anything!”
Something about that phrase, that NAME, uttered from those lips, made Dib’s sensibilities leave him. Howling in anger, he broke into a run for the stall. His eyes glowed as the Meekrob began to crackle from his very pores.
“Dib!! No!! You said to stay together—“ Zim and Vermeil gave chase, but could not match Dib’s speed.
Laughing all the more hysterically, Tzin cried, “Come to papa!” before disappearing behind the stall.
Dib rounded the corner. Two seconds later, so did the two Irkens. They looked wildly in all directions for any trace of Tzin or Dib, but the streets sprawled out before them, completely devoid of life.
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AUTHOR COMMENTSES:
So I was really busy with life stuff for awhile. And then I forgot how to log in to this site. Whoops. BUT NOW I’M BACK. Thanks for the reviews! I’m not going to respond individually as I usually do because well it’s been like 2 years or something. But Nalz, I wanted to say I really appreciate your comments and if you see this, could you please elaborate on what you meant by “2^nd chapter”? I’m assuming you mean when Verm actually gets to Irkland with Meg, but I could be mistaken. I plan to go back over… well, everything when I have the free time again. I’d like to rewrite G*R and all the arcs. The damn thing’s 10 years old, after all. And I’ve been taking classes. On how write more good. :P
If you want to be kept up to date with the fic stuff and whatever degenerate shit I’m up to, follow me on Tumblr. I also have an “Ask the Boss (read: Dib and occasionally Zim)” blog that gives me great joy (that I also currently do not have time to update) so you can follow that and/or stuff it full of asks.
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Goddess Risen