Unappreciated? Not Any More!

11:Invader Zim (Russian Roulette - Rihanna)

Smoke billowed from the surrounding equipment, most of which had begun to short-circuit or had already been destroyed. Lasers were being fired from every direction, rubble from the inside of the ship bouncing around from the stray bullets. The Resisty and Irken Amarda were finally clashing, and in the midst of it all, a specific Irken was on a mission of his own.

‘Take a breath, take it deep,

Calm yourself, he says to me,’

Puffing slightly, the legs of your PAK extended, catapulting you through the air to flip over the opposing Irken, once your brethren, now your enemy. Your black antennae were pressed against your head, the dense metal extensions pricking at the back of your skull as one of the legs of your PAK impaled one of the Flying Commando’s of the Armada. Bright green liquid spurted as you retracted the arm, and you had to avert your attention in shame. The lifeless body limply thudded to the floor, the bright liquid spreading across the metallic grating.

Your fists clenched as the few bodies around you twitch consecutively before each PAK disconnected from their designated body with a hiss. The PAKs quickly extended smaller versions of their normally long, spider-like mechanical legs and began to scuttle around for an exit, most likely attempting to retreat back to their archives. You frowned at the thought of having the memory of every each and one of these Irkens deleted. How dare the Control Brains perform such nonsense and take away the memories of others. How dare the Irken race take what is not theirs.

Your nonexistent brow furrowed as you stepped over a PAK-less body, black boots slopping about in the puddle of blood from the same Irken. You were ahead of the rest of the Resisty, and it was your duty to kill off your former leaders – the Tallest.

‘If you play, you play for keeps,

Take the gun, and count to three,’

The numbers were dwindling now, and it was unclear as to who would win this war. If the Resisty won, they would make everything right once again. Every species still existent would get their home planet back, and you would be able to live in peace with the thought that everyone you loved was indefinitely safe. You paused, the thought of a certain Irken taking up space within your mind. He was the reason you were working so fast – you wanted to try and avoid him at all costs. However, the quiet clicks and whirring of another PAK alerted you. You reacted with barely any time to spare as a laser singed the edge of your customised outfit. While swivelling on the spot, you reached back into your PAK, the mechanism opening up and instantaneously pushing a single, powerful gun into the palm of your hand. Before you could make a move, however, your body was throttled to the floor, the back of your head bouncing off the metal grating with a loud thwack. You would have gathered a concussion if it weren’t for the blunt curves of your metal antennae extensions cupping the back of your skull in a manner quite similar to a helmet. The sharp point of an extendable PAK leg was pressed against your throat.

‘I’m sweating now, moving slow,

No time to think, my turn to go‘

No sooner had you made that thought, a breathtakingly hot beam of plasma shot the Irken Elite off of you, and you quickly sat up, eyes following the body as it hit the wall before slumping to the floor, the smell of burnt flesh filling the expanse around you. Turning your head to the other side, you wiped the blood that had been trickling down your neck. Your eyes locked on the Irken who quite possibly just saved your life.