Chapter Text
This was it. This was the moment Dib had been working toward for so long. Everyone had doubted, had pushed him away. And now here they were, all eyes on him. His peers, his colleagues, everyone he had ever resented stood before Dib, helplessly captivated by his discovery: the Irken invader Zim.
The alien was cuffed at his wrists and ankles. The metal board that hoisted him upright wrapped around his PAK to contain those pesky spider legs. Zim’s prized uniform was in tatters as a result of their most recent battle, one that had proven to be their last. His ever-present look of rage was still intact, however.
Good.
Dib lifted his arm next to his head and pressed a button on the guantlet he wore, making the metal tray lay back so that it was three feet off of the ground. He walked over to Zim’s side and was immediately met with a stream of curses in Irken as well as several Earth languages. Dib smiled. That was all that Zim could do right now. The mighty Irken was completely at Dib’s mercy, and they both knew it. Dib didn’t retort with words. Instead, he retrieved a scalpel from the nearby table and raised it above Zim’s chest.
There it is.
Zim’s eyes were large, his body still, his teeth clenched in anticipation now instead of hatred. He was afraid. Dib’s grin grew bigger.
“Time to see what you’re made of space-boy,” Dib said. “Now smile for the crowd.” He turned to scan the rows of onlookers past the stage. There were familiar faces among them. Many Swollen Eyeball agents had shown up to see the spectacle, including Dark Booty himself. His classmates were there too, wearing faces of awe. Camera drones swirled around above them all, tuning even more in at home. Even President Man from President Land had made an appearance. And then there was his sister and partner, Gaz, who was standing by their father.
Their father.
Their fucking dad.
Dib stared at the tall scientist giving him a thumbs-up. This wasn’t right. This was all wrong. Why was his dad here - the man who Dib could never prove anything to, never make proud? Dib’s pupils narrowed and his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, let out a snarl, and plunged the scalpel into Zim. Nothing. No screaming, no struggle. Dib opened his eyes to find a new look on Zim’s face - one of pity.
“No,” was all that Dib could say. “No, no, no…” He hated the way Zim was looking at him. He had won! Zim was the one who needed pity, not Dib! He turned his scrunched face to the crowd, only to find that they had all gone. It was only he and Zim left.
But he had finally won.
Containment ERROR
Subject 1 REJECTED
Initiating emergency protocols
Dib was underwater. There were long, thin things wrapping around him, keeping him in place. Probably seaweed or debris, he thought. He’d had nightmares about this sort of thing ever since his run-in with a siren. His theory was disproven after he grasped one of the offending objects. It was metal, and snaked from his chest down to a floor that Dib could not make out amidst the green, hazy fluid. Then everything was red and chaos. The water rushed forward and he went with it. He landed on cold, hard concrete, the feeling of which broke him out of his haze. He sat up and took in his surroundings with new clarity.
Dib was in his father’s lab, it seemed, though it looked a bit different than how he remembered it. Batio 4000, the robot that his dad had built to spend “father-son” time with Dib while he was away at work, still stood in the far corner, unused. The tables full of experiments and vials were still present, but there were four new additions along the wall behind Dib. They were large, cyclindrical tubes that stretched from floor to ceiling and were filled with green liquid. Inside of each was a person, excluding the one that Dib presumed he had just fallen out of. It was who the people were that made Dib go pale.
They were them.
Two familiar little girls with spiky, purple hair occupied the two pods furthest from Dib. Metal cables snaked down to bury themselves into his sisters’ bodies at various points. And then there was him. In the next pod, Dib saw himself. A perfect mirror, save for the blue shirt in place of his usual yellow. Dib, er, he just floated there, suspended in that green liquid. What the hell was happening? Why had Dib woken up in a pod in his father’s basement? Why were there clones of he and his sister?
Had the life he’d been living all been just a dream?
Dib moved frantically over to the table opposite of the pods. There were papers arranged in neat piles on top of it, the contents of which made Dib’s stomach lurch. They were clones. They always had been. They weren’t his father’s children, they were experiments. What was worse, it seemed that they hadn’t even been the only ones. Dib and Gaz had only been the first in a line of failed children - each being condemned as the last had. Dib skimmed over the conclusion of each generation.
Dib Alpha: Naturally curious, a good trait for a scientist, if he did not spend his energy hunting down various wise-tales. Dib Alpha also exhibits narcissistic tendencies as well as a manic personality. He is prone to violent outbursts and is drawn to sadistic activities, including running experiments on his sister, Gaz Alpha. I presume that a mixture of unknown errors during the cloning process and a lack of socialization while in the lab at a young age is to blame for these issues.
Gaz Alpha: She shows interest in video games, though this can quickly consume her day if not kept in check. Gaz Alpha is usually apathetic or angry. Her apathy leads to Dib Alpha often taking advantage of her to run experiments. This will need to be addressed in her successor.
Dib Beta: Again, Dib Beta finds a special interest in pseudo-science. This is growing tiresome. Though this generation is much less violent, the narcissism and mania remain. However, they have been tempered through alteration of memories. Dib Beta seems to care about others and the planet much more than Alpha had, which I had hoped I could leverage to introduce him to real science. He is obsessive to an extreme. This has proven to be difficult to weed out.
Gaz Beta: The love of video games was retained from the previous generation, though Beta enjoys art and engineering as well. She has proven to be quite skilled in converting her stuffed animals into robots. Though Gaz Beta is more capable of standing up for herself, her rage is often too severe. I have yet to find a way to temper this.
Dib Charlie: EVALUATION ONGOING
Gaz Charlie: EVALUATION ONGOING
Dib felt like throwing up. Membrane had stuffed him into the basement just because he hadn’t been satisfied with his work. Worse, there was an imitator running around with his face. His memories. He gripped the skin of his face and pulled down. It was all too much. All of this was too much. He hadn’t even realized that he’d wrenched the metal bat out of Batio 4000’s hands until he was stood before Dib Beta. Dib saw white as he brought the bat to the glass. It shattered and the imposter inside spilled out onto the floor beside him.
This shouldn’t exist. I can’t look at this.
Dib raised the bat above his head. Dib Beta just lied there beneath him, blissfully unaware of what he was as he lied comatose. Dib roared. He kept roaring as he brought the bat down.