Elyon

Light

"I'm it!" The SIR giggled. "You caughts me, now I gets you!"

Tallest Red rolled the little cyan orb in between his claws, staring at it. It should have been red. All SIR unit antennae tips and eyes were red. So why was this one cyan? It shouldn't matter that it had been defective. There were plenty of defective SIRs, and all were red.

"Whatcha gonna dooooo with that? Is it a wafflemaker? Am I gonna be a waffle? Am I gonna be a—" CRUNCH.

He tossed it up and down, thoughtfully. Not much was left after the compressor got through with the SIR. The module had been destroyed, along with that infernal message. Now all they had to do was track down these infernal Krissirks who had downloaded the message and execute them. Then this concept would grind to a halt. A few public executions would shut everybody up.

And it would be easy to find them, he grinned. As easy as it had been to find the SIR unit. Blindfold himself? Hah. This new sight, this extra sense or whatever it was would probably help him pinpoint traitors right away. It had already helped him find the SIR unit. He just had to figure out what was different about them.

He glanced at the pile of metallic dust and rubble that had been the insane SIR. His mouth curled into a smirk as he surveyed the destruction. "Where's your message now?"

A wisp of light caught his gaze, and his smirk froze.

Just above the pile of dust, a light was flashing. It was a small, wavery light that curled upward like smoke. For a moment, it hung there, uncertainly, curled in a little ball. Then two more appeared, one on each side of it, flashing brightly. Joyous laughter exploded from the light sources, and Red had to squint as he shielded his eyes with his claws. He didn't recognized one of the voices, but he could almost swear the other sounded like that defect Zim he'd executed a few months before.

The two brighter lights zoomed in toward the wispy ball, circling around and around playfully. The wispy ball in the center grew brighter, and larger, and began to shimmer with laughter.

Red growled at the light, swiping at it with his claws. "What are you?"

The lights merely dodged his claws and began circling his head. Voices spoke urgently to him, something, but he couldn't understand. It was like he was hearing them through several closed doors. Frustrated, he swatted at them again, and they withdrew. They hung in front of him a moment, silently, as if remorseful that they could not communicate. But that only lasted seconds before one giggled, and that spread to the other two. With a last burst of joy, the three balls uncurled into smoky wisps, and darted out of sight.

Red stared at the empty room for a moment, before unleashing a long string of Irken curses. What had just happened? Were they mocking him? Or was he really just losing his mind?

...

Note: Some of you may have noticed a pattern in my fics. GIR either dies, or is heard very little from. Well, my reason to you is twofold. I don't write crazy well. I write tragedy well. Dead GIR fits both very easily. By the way, just for the record, I'm pretty sure I won't actually be writing the Invader Zim version of the gospels. If you read any kind of Christian fiction, you will see that that concept of Jesus-comes-in-another-universe/time has been done to death. Not that it isn't done creatively, I mean, see Eli by Bill Myers or the Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker for proof, but I just can't see myself being able to put forward anything creative enough to justify indulging in the cliché. I think one should only write a cliché if they have a fresh take on it. Why yes, I did just plug two of my favorite authors.