Operation: Incentive - Invader Zim fanfic (ZADF)

Transformation

The blinding lights faded.

Dib took stock of his surroundings; he was back in the lab. The cord that he assumed was in his back was now lying limp on the cold floor, and he made to leave, for he had enough information for the next part of his plan, but it seemed the computer had other ideas.

Some black text on the screen.

"Does 'Dib' accept Item: 'Dib's PAK?' Y/N".

Dib's PAK? Zim...wasn't lying? He actually made a PAK?

That completely changed Dib's view of the guy, and maybe he would've gone up to talk to him if he had not  caught his reflection in the screen.

He was completely Irken...except for a few white patches on his arm. It looked like whatever happened, his humanity would stay with him, and it was this that comforted him more than anything. But when he raised his eyes, he had to look into a face he didn't realize, and he swelled with rage.

"Computer!" he called. "Did Zim leave or make anything else for me?"

The computer didn't reply, but instead lit up a dark corner, in which there was a door Dib had never noticed before. He jogged over, and saw that there was an eye sketched on the front.

Weird.

He jiggled the handle and it swung open, revealing... His bedroom? No, it couldn't be his bedroom, but it was an almost exact replica.

The only difference was a mannequin his exact height; and on it was an Irken uniform. Dib let out a gasp. This suit was perfect! Instead of the red and pink of Zim's, it was different shades of blue, and instead of shoulder pads, a Prussian blue trench coat was draped around the soldiers. The boots were even the exact color and design of his sneakers!

Dib was stunned, but the familiar sight calmed him down enough for rational thought to once again enter his mind.

He walked out of the room, and headed towards the elevator.

He needed to have a word with Zim.

As he clambered into the elevator, he thought that it felt like so long ago he crept in here wishing ill will on Zim. Now, truth be told, he didn't know what to think. Was the alien really his enemy? He wanted desperately to know how Zim truly thought about him, for until then, he wouldn't be able to sort out his feelings either. Dib respected Zim as a powerful enemy, and he had thought about almost nothing or no-one other for years. Zim was Dib's alcohol; bad for him, but he always wanted more, to best him, to defeat him. Dib always thought Zim felt the same way, but now he just didn't know.

The elevator slid open, revealing Zim pacing the room. He walked the length of the room four times before he had realized Dib was standing there.

"Dib."

"Zim." 

There was something curious in the air. Not quite hostility, yet not quite friendship either.

Dib flushed.

He couldn't do this. Not today. 

He pushed past Zim and walked out of the house.