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Breaking Dawn, Pt. 3: Rise of the Red Helm

She was a normal, good solider. She truly was.

But she couldn't help but notice something wasn't...right...with her world.

She saw things...tolerated. Things that she could not stand. And she grew to despise these things. She didn't understand why they existed.

Until she met it. The crack. The rip. The Schism.

As she looked into it, knowledge ripped through her mind like a tidal wave, and she understood all. Understood what she was. Where she was. What she was meant to be.

And she realized now why she could not tolerate those things. Those...vermin.

She swore to destroy them.

They were all nothing more than robotic bugs.

And she...was going to make sure...everybody knew this.

Breaking Dawn, Part Three RISE OF THE RED HELM

The experience was...enlightening beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Simultaneously intoxicating and exhilarating, a breath of fresh air after years, YEARS of being locked away in the damp and the dark, beautiful...so damn beautiful.

And then that experience ended, and he was vaguely aware of a spectral, ghostly form gently patting him on one shoulder, a smile spreading across a draconic face with sweet, kindly eyes, black with a faint tint of green at the bottom, and pupils like a shining star. It spread it's wings over him, his Lord, his God, speaking in a voice so harmonious that the very words uttered from its mouth threatened to annihilate his very existence with their divinity. He was standing in the presence of sacred fire, and like Zeus before the average mortal, it was a wonder he could endure it and wasn't being burnt up.

"You're different...from most of the others." It told him. "...I think I could tolerate you more. You've got the seeds of real potential in you, my host. Are you prepared?"

"P-prepared f-for what?" Senior asked, stuttering nervously as Sude smiled broadly.

"I have need of you for a mission. I'll hide away within you...be only visible TO you, audible to you. Return to your charge, the once called Maht. I'll explain when you've returned to the ship you call your home." Sude informed him, wrapping his immense wings and powerful arms around him, almost sinking into his body. Senior gasped, patting his chest, his stomach, his arms...

The Irken in him was astounded, frightened, confused. This being wasn't an Irken! It was skaatel, it was...

Yet...the power...the sheer, awe-inspiring beauty that had filled his form...that had been more enjoyable than anything he'd ever felt. He'd felt tiny doses of it, listening to Earthen music...those quiet moments from the past with the two beings he had loved, were he capable of love. Pure happiness...that was it. Unbridled joy.

He WANTED to feel that again, above all else. And if he did what this thing asked of him, he might be able to feel it again. He would have done ANYTHING to feel it.

So he exited the restroom, heading back in Maht's direction as the service drone helped somebody back up from the ground, they'd tripped and had dropped all of their merchandise and Maht was putting it back in their cart for them. "You're very helpful, sir." The half-Irken, half-Vortian admitted as Senior stood by Maht, who nodded cheerily at the Vortken.

Senior nervously gulped. He didn't REALLY have anything personal against ANY Vortians or other species. His PAK had, after all, been encoded in a time when other species had been allies to the Empire, when it had been considerably less bullying, conquering not with cruelty, but with a kiss, a time when all the Irken race had wanted was for all beings to speak Irken, know Irken culture, trade with Irk, and it wasn't like there weren't perks to this...

Still, he was slightly...uncomfortable around half-breeds, or "mongrels". Most Irkens had sexual organs deeply embedded, useless like a human appendix. Stored deep inside, never to be used. Ignored. What crazy lunatics would undergo the procedure to bring those organs out and...and breed with other beings? It seemed so...barbaric!

He tried to summon up a smile and gave a half-hearted chuckle at the Vortken as he turned to Maht, pointing at an invisible watch on his wrist. "Methinks it's time we find the others and meet up for lunch. Let's head to the food district."

Making their way out of the warehouse and through the streets, Maht examined a magazine he'd bought, entitled "Irken Weekly". The headlines were quite attention-grabbing. "Resisty Rocks: Irken Resistance Movement gains in the Pollls Through Popular Programming", "How to style your lekku"-

EWWWW. People could PIERCE that part of the body? YECCCH.

Wait. What was this? "The Red Helm Strikes Again".

Red Helm?

Senior frowned. He'd heard reports about this "Red Helm" lately, this vigilante being that stalked the streets of Irk. People had a tendency to DIE if they crossed his path. Die horribly. Most of the time nobody was able to find all of the pieces of whatever poor soul had met the Red Helm in some dark, dingy alley. The only thing the victims had in common seemed to be that they had all been members of the Irken military.

What neither Maht nor Senior knew was that several miles away, in an underground bunker, Irken commanders of the local military were all discussing their latest problems, which could be summed up quite easily in one sentence.

"HE'S KILLING EVERYONE!"

Fists slammed onto a table as dozens of armed guards stood by the exits below a catwalk, the commanders sitting around a circular table. The Irken who'd shouted shook his slightly hexagonal head back and forth. "I had thought that we'd be able to put a lid on the media...why are they being allowed to report this?"

"We've TRIED, sir, but they keep moving locations. And word-of-mouth is spreading the news about the Red Helm like wildfire."

"You called us here because you've got a plan, haven't you?" Another commander asked, one of nearly black skin, eyes steely and cold as he steepled his gloved claws.

"No, I did not." The man from before mumbled, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, scowling behind his Elite mask. "I thought it was you. You've lost five officers, haven't you?"

"Today it makes six. SIX! Some of my best people."

"Oh, screw this." Another captain spoke up, standing up from the chair. "I'm done here. You brain donors wanna stick around-"

"Siddown, Captain Kroonch." A low, growling voice snarled out from atop the catwalk, as a being stepped out into the light, resting black-gloved hands upon the railing. It was a being dressed in black and red armor, a large red breastplate upon his chest with two spiky wings hanging low from his shoulder blades, with a horned helm. Two curled down the side of it's head like a ram, with a final spike jutting up from the forehead. It appeared as though the Red Helm had decided to make a personal appearance, and he was every bit as imposing as they'd heard.

His soulless red eyes blazed down at them as they felt a faint smile make it's way through the helmet that covered his head. "You've all authorized a recent...campaign. A secret one. Targeting defectives. You thought nobody would find OUT?" He growled. "Nobody reports the death of poor defectives. But poor soldiers dying in the line of duty? Oh, THAT sells."

"You ASKING to die?" The dark-skinned commander snarled. "There are easier ways of doing it!"

"Yeah, like yelling at the lunatic that's eviscerated every single military idiot he's come across with his hands alone." The Red Helm laughed darkly, shutting him up. "Now you tell me. Your hired killer. The one leaving bodies for yours truly to find and give respect...the name. I want the name."

"..." The Irkens at the table all looked around at each other. "...we're not telling you ANYTHING." One of the captains growled, pointing accusingly at the Red Helm.

The Red Helm's eyes narrowed as it pointed it's palm at the captain, a red circle glowing on it's palm as a burning blast of red energy shot clear through the air, snatching the captain up.

He barely had time to scream.

"That...is going to be all of you...unless you start talking." The Red Helm asked as everyone stepped away from Mr. Friz's head, Mr. Friz's right hand, Mr. Friz's left leg...heck, EVERYONE had a little piece of Mr. Friz to take home for a souvenir now.

"Earth culture's rather primitive, but it appears as though they're right about one thing...military intelligence truly IS an oxymoron. You're all really so dumb that you'll choose your empire over self-preservation? Yeah, just what your commanders taught you to. Mine..."

His eyes narrowed. "For me...it was different. As my commander lay DYING in front of me because of a mistake the Empire made, I realized then I didn't really give two shits what the higher-ups thought because as far as they were concerned, I was just cannon fodder. We're ALL just cannon fodder. I might actually be doing you a favor, giving you all quick deaths here..." The vigilante spoke quietly, dangerously, eyes glimmering as he raised his gloved hand high. "I promised him to make people like you pay...and, well...you should NEVER break a promise." The helmeted being said calmly.

"Wiyn! Her name's Wiyn!" The black-skinned Irken immediately blabbed out, Mr. Friz's intestinal tract f his squeedly-spooch dangling off his head. "She's an Elite Grunt! Dark olive green skin and even darker green eyes!" The commander squealed, covering his head with his arms. "We gave her the list of known defects three months ago!"

"Well...that wasn't so hard, was it?" The Red Helm said cheerily, clapping his hands as he began to shrink back into the shadows. "Just remember...I'm watching...and I'm waiting for you to slip up again. If you send another one of her out there...you're dead."

With that, it was gone, and the little makeshift military tribunal looked around at each other, wondering what they'd unleashed.

...

...it wasn't long before all of Senior's charges were sitting at a table at "Deep Fried Dan's Diner". Everything that wasn't fried and buttered was swimming in gravy, just the way most of them liked it.

"Hey, where's my sly-doo-dee-doo?" Dite wanted to know, shouting furiously as he banged his fist on the table. The head chef pulled out a smoking...THING...from a furnace, holding it aloft on a prong, and calmly fake-ran through the diner, holding the burning thing high and humming the theme to the Olympics as he deposited it on Dite's plate. "...I'll be grateful when this "Earth" fad is over." Dite mumbled.

Yes, everybody had ordered something that would surely give them heart attacks...save for Feyr, who had decided to simply have some potato chips. Lots of them.

"I think your hand is becoming translucent." Xeil mumbled as the pink-eyed consular stuffed more and more into his mouth, hungrily gobbling the chips down, pieces of the chips spraying out over a dark, steely-grey table. "So much GREASE."

"Like your deep-fried Blorblegax Breast has any less." Feyr muttered out in between mouthfuls, slurping down his meal with some orange soda. "My, you're awfully hungry today, sir, if you do not mind me saying so." He added, looking at Senior as his taller hungrily wolfed down cheesy nachos. "It reminds me of the prisoners in our holding cells, they're so starved it's like they're eating for two!" He tapped his lip. "That reminds me, has anybody seen the latest "Irk Weekly"? There's been more and more captures of Resisty supporters on this planet, they're becoming AWFULLY popular for such a stupidly-named group."

"It's the theme song." Senior reasoned as he swallowed the last of his nachos, noticing the television above the bar had been turned on to the very show so the waitress and other patrons could see what the big deal was. "It's just so friggin' hard to not like."

The world is a vampire...sent to draaaa-aaaa-aaaaain!

"Yeah, we're badass." The grey-skinned, horned being named Lard Nar said as he addressed the camera, his green-goggled eyes catching the light of a passing sun as their ship soared through the stars.

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage!

"Of COURSE you're gonna get sucked in after THAT." Senior insisted, waving his hand at the television as the show started.

"HEY!" The orange-eyed female smacked Maht's hand away from her tray, baring sharp teeth. "MINE!"

"Well, it appears as though the Resisty are doing a raid, a LIVE raid upon..." Jayd's eyes widened as he trailed off.

Wait. Was that...

"...is that...the alley behind this diner?" The waitress asked as Lard Nar grinned into the camera.

"Perception filters. New! Improved! We're practically invisible here we see the BEAUTIFUL capital city of Irk! So much culture! So many Irkens!...we're gonna blow this diner up." The Vortian laughed. "Mostly for kicks and giggles."

"Everybody out of the diner, NOW!" Jayd yelled out, eyes widening as he turned to see-

Senior was gone. What the?

No, wait. He was now on the television, facing down the Resisty, two familiar pistols...well, familiar for Maht, anyhow, held high. "Stop the countdown." He demanded. "I am giving you fair warning, this is the kindest I can be to known rebels like you."

"...hello...big "N"." Lard Nar said quietly. "...been a a while, huh?"

"...stop this, Nar." Senior said. "I'm sorry we blamed your people for Spork and Miyuki, I AM, but if your kind keeps resisting, you'll keep suffering more."

"We'll suffer no matter what your kind do unless WE do something about it. So...no. stop what we're doing?...we can't do that. And...we WON'T." Lard Nar spoke, looking squarely at the Irken as his men vanished, teleporting away one by one, only he and a hooded Vortian remaining. "In ten seconds it goes ka-blooey. What can I say? I LIKE it when things go ka-boom." With that, Lard Nar stuck out his tongue, giving a loud raspberry.

"I SAID STOP IT, YOU STUPID-!" Senior yelled, his PAK suddenly popping a tiny jet engine out from the end. He raced through the air right at Lard Nar...

But the hooded Vortian tackled him, and they were sent flying out of the alley as Lard Nar teleported to safety, the rest of the bar patrons running as fast as they could out of the diner before it could-

It was like an enormous sparkling blue dome rose up from the back of the diner, encasing everything within a 100-foot radius. It sizzled and sparked, the others watching, eyes wide...until at last, the dome faded...and everything that had been within it was...just gone. GONE. As if it had never been.

"...don't suppose anyone has a portable television on them?" Dite asked calmly.

Jayd pulled out a small, scanner-shaped object from his belt, and it "pinged" as it came to life. He tuned it to the right channel with small little dials on either side of the portable TV before finally finding the broadcast of the Resisty...and a message was going out by a hooded being wearing blue. She appeared to be standing before a large poster of the Resisty's that showed them all muscular and buff, with a faint light emanating to the right-hand-side of whatever room she was in.

"Greetings, planet Irk." A vaguely feminine voice crooned, a voice disguise filter keeping her real voice from being heard. "I am the Wing, who shields the Resisty. We are the new hope for this galaxy. Hope for a brighter future. Hope for a better world for all. We are willing...to allow Irk to become a part of that in exchange for it's surrender."

She gestured to the right, towards the soft light and the camera now focused on something that had manifested in an enormous storage bay...the diner that had just vanished, people being paraded out...not merely that, there were other buildings captured as well.

"They're TELEPORTALS. Miniature stations that send whomever's captured up to the Resisty!" Xeil realized. "Damnit, they've gotten smarter."

"We shall indoctrinate those captured, and they'll learn our ways...support our cause. If you seek a better life, you are free to seek us out. Defectives of Irk...those who desire more, remember...there is ALWAYS hope." The Wing insisted as the broadcast came to an end and they all looked around at each other.

"...always...hope? Well, they've not gotten any less corny." Dite laughed.

Meanwhile, Senior was grappling with the hooded Vortian in midair, spinning around and around, his PAK sending them higher and higher. "Stop this!" He demanded. "If you don't surrender now, we'll most likely BOTH die! Surrender and I'll spare your life, little Vortian!"

"I'd sooner die than be an Irken slave, you SCUM!" The Vortian spat in his face, trying to scratch him with her pointed nails. He grabbed her wrist, angrily glaring at her as a faint white light glimmered off his body.

"You will SLEEP now." Sude's voice came out of Senior's mouth. "I shan't let you harm my host."

The Vortian woman stiffened, eyes widening beneath the hood before she passed out in an instant, Senior looking stupidly down at what he had in his arms. "Did...did YOU do that?" He asked Sude.

"A, how shall I say this...fringe benefit." It told him. "I will do EVERYTHING to keep you from death."

Senior turned himself back towards the city, heading towards his charges, prisoner held carefully in his arms. "Well, this could work out even better than I thought..." He mused to himself as he touched down to where the others were. "Feyr, you're the one who deals with prisoners. Bring her back to the Massive, whilst I write up a report on what's occurred."

With that, the gang split up anew...nobody noticing where Dite was walking off too.

Nobody...save for Senior.

...

...vermin. All of them. Filthy vermin.

She hissed to herself, leaping from roof to roof, the stars shimmering overhead. Nighttime had fallen over her city. HER city. Hers and hers alone, for people like her.

And they weren't anything like the vermin she was hunting. She finally caught sight of him as she leaned on her knees by the edge of a high-speed monorail, eyes narrowing beneath the pink hood she wore. Dark shorts, shoulder guards, black gloves...Elite Grunt Wiyn was ready, and waiting...waiting...almost there...

She leapt down at him, laughing. "Riddle me this! What's pink and maroon, but covered in dark green?"

THWOMP!

"YOU!" She laughed, calmly getting off the terrified Invader as she pulled out a small electro-knife, lightning crackling from its tip. "When I land upon your sorry, wasteful behind."

"Wh-what do you want?" It whimpered, blue eyes widening in horror.

"Well...your eyes. And then your life." Wiyn explained calmly, her knees pinning the Irken invader to the ground below as she held the knife to the vermin's eye. "You can help me send defects like you a message."

KRAKKA-THROOOOM!

Wiyn was knocked through the air by a shotgun blast of power as the Invader "eeped", staring at his unlikely savior...the Red Helm himself, who lowered a smoking hand, balefully glaring at Wiyn as she rose from out of the trash cans she'd knocked into. "Well?...what's the message?" He growled.

"A SIMPLE one, actually. CARE TO GUESS?" Wiyn whined, tossing the knife away, pulling out two powerful-looking pistols as her PAK opened up, her arachnid-esque mechanical legs making her rise into the air like an armed spider. She grinned darkly, racing towards the Red Helm, firing away at him as the Invader she'd been terrorizing ran for his life, the Red Helm leaping away from her, spinning through the air.

She jumped after him, continuing to fire as he raced up the wall of a nearby armory, finally jumping off and slamming his booted feet into her face, knocking her back and forcing her hood down, revealing curled antennae and a horrid scowl. Deciding that the pistols just weren't cutting it, she snapped her fingers, two long blades sheathing out of the PAK as she raced towards the Red Helm, slashing and slicing as he danced away, trying to avoid her.

Unfortunately one hard PAK leg caught him under the chin and sent him flying into the wall. He panted heavily, some blood dribbling down from his helmet as he growled at her, a faint, spectral image momentarily appearing behind him. "So...you have all this power and all you do is kill people with it?"

"DEFECTIVES. Not "people"." Wiyn growled.

"That schmuck back there only had blue eyes!" The Red Helm snapped. "Who GIVES a flying-"

"Ido! They should be red! Or purple! Or green! Or brown! Anything else is DEFECTIVE! And you...I can clearly tell YOU'RE defective. Personalizing such a gaudy outfit." Wiyn hissed, spinning her blades in a circular pattern.

"Oh, you view ANY sign of creativity as defectiveness, huh? Bite me."

"I DON'T MIND IF I DO!" She laughed, snapping her jaws and racing at him as he managed to leap away again, pointing a palm at her, a blast of blazing red power slamming into her back and knocking her into a dumpster, making her screech in pain. "Did you look into the Schism too, then?" She mused quietly. "Your outfit's beyond simple defectiveness."

"...no." The Red Helm said calmly. "I've been bound to a superior being. But I know of what you speak." He admitted. "Reality is bursting at the seams, right? But I don't really care. I'm just interested in getting even with everybody in a uniform. You couldn't find a better piece of scum than people like them...like the people who gave you up to save their own hides!" The helmeted Irken laughed, thrusting two arms forward, sweeping bands of red energy pinning Wiyn to the ground as he approached her, cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, yes, I heard from them. They had to be disposed of." She remarked calmly.

"You KILLED them for telling on you?" The Red Helm asked. "No honor among thieves, eh?"

"I am putting the good of the empire before my own life in dealing with defectives. They could have tried to do the same. Self-preservation over the Empire? Unacceptable." Wiyn said, suddenly bursting free of the bands that held her down and kicking the Red Helm in the gut, making him keel over and vulnerable to a powerful uppercut that launched him through the air.

The Red Helm panted as he lay on the ground, groaning as Wiyn approached, one PAK leg held high. "I thought you'd put up more of an effort."

Suddenly the Red Helm was not an Irken at all. Now he was a towering brute, head spiked and red eyes a-glow as a bladed tail swept back and forth and muscular arms gripped a surprised Wiyn tightly. "Oh tHiS iSn'T a FiGhT. It Is A sImPlE sLaUgHtEr." The thing laughed.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Wiyn snapped. "PUT MY AMAZINGLY SUPERIOR SELF-"

Wiyn didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. The thing launched her through the air, clapping imaginary dust off it's clawed hands as it reverted back to the Red Helm, who sighed.

"She'll be back, no doubt."

"I shall be waiting, then. I'm sorry you can't stay here to finish the job yourself, but don't worry. Next time she shows up, I'll have a party waiting for her. And when I say PARTY, I mean a whole lotta people that are gonna kill her DEAD!" The Entity of Rage laughed darkly.

Senior's eyes widened as Sude whispered for him to be quiet. "It is him. Chulainn. Entity of Rage."

"There are others like you?" Senior thought back at his host.

"Oh yes. Several of them." Sude said. "And I could vaguely sense them here on Irk. I imagine they've all bonded with hosts the way I've bonded with you."

"...maybe it's time...you tell me where you're from." Senior whispered.

"I heard that, Senior." Dite the Elite roared out, turning his head in Senior's direction as the Entity of Rage manifested by HIS charge. Senior frowned, stepping out of the alleyway, his own Entity hovering nearby.

"Well...well." Chulainn murmured, red eyes a-glitter, muscular arms folded over his chest. "If it isn't Puff the Magic Dragon...and his host. Pleased to meet you. Won'tcha guess my name?"

"I've heard that song before." Senior spoke up, waving a hand in the air. "I don't like it. Dite...how long have you been...tied to this thing?"

"That doesn't really matter, does it?" Dite inquired calmly. "...not to me. There's a war coming." Dite explained. "The Resisty's just the beginning of it. Can't you feel it? Reality is bursting apart, schisms in time and space are ripping open. The War of Light shall come...all will blend, becoming black, and then the White will sweep everything away. That's why we need to make sure you're alive." Dite told Sude, pointing with a finger, the helm falling away, revealing his true face.

HER true face.

"...you're...a girl." Senior gasped.

"Yes." She said quietly. "I am. My own private little secret." She laughed.

"I want to help you." Senior said. "Tell me how this happened. Let me help you. Please."

For a moment, genuine surprise flickered over Dite's face, and then her expression became slightly sad. "...you're frightened by what I am. But this is me now. It's too late for me. I'm staying here...and just getting started."

With that, she thrust her fist into the ground, a flash of red light blinding Senior before...

She was gone. He blinked stupidly, scratching his head before turning to his own entity. "Okay, TALK. What is this "War of Light"?" He demanded to know. "If you're gonna make me your host, you're gonna tell me why you need a host, why one of my charges is dismembering people around my planet!"

Sude chewed his lip. "...I'll explain it." He murmured. "...but once I do, I warn you...there's no going back."

"I'm not...scared." Senior growled at the draconic being's face.

"...well..." Sude folded his arms and sighed before he held one clawed hand up to it's host's head, as knowledge began to fill Senior's mind, images playing out before his eyes.

"It begins as all tales do...In the beginning..."

...

...in the beginning, there was light. The universe belonged to the light. For seven hundred and seventy seven years there was nothing but blinding white light. It looked upon all it saw, all it was, and all it was...was pure and good. Then came the splintering of the light as the foundations of the black were laid...

The light became many as it's purity died away. It became passion. It became diligence. It became intelligence. It became will. It became hope. It became love. It became compassion. The Seven Heavens looked upon their universe and swore to make sure all felt their blessings.

But they were splintered further and further. The white became more and more corrupted, chipped away, again and again until it was barely a whisper. In response, three of the Heavens grew darkened by the spreading of the corruption...

And they began to plot and plan. They felt only their light was the true light, and the others became just tainted enough to believe this lie to be true.

They shall fight. They shall begin the War of Light.

And The War of Light shall return all to White.

Senior fell to the ground, panting heavily. He had witnessed the very birth of the universe and life itself. Entire planets had just been born and then destroyed before his eyes...he understood now. The knowledge filled him.

It was NEAT.

"You've met what was once my Passion. Now it's become Rage." Sude said. "I want to turn the corrupted entities good again...and find the others quickly. Stop this war before it spreads across the galaxy and makes innocents suffer. And I sense every single one of them is on this planet, a planet that holds the fate of much of the galaxy in it's hands." The draconic being insisted, clenching his fist tightly.

"Then...we need to ground the Massive. It's LEAVING in two hours." Senior realized out loud. "We keep it here, you and I will have more time to search, and any second counts."

"Speaking of "count", does this mean I can count on your assistance, then, Senior Communications Officer of the Massive?" Sude wished to know, tilting his head to the side slightly as he hovered around Senior, who stood back up on his feet.

"...please...call me "Nick"." The officer insisted. "...I prefer that among friends." He added sheepishly.

#invader zim #fanfiction #fanfic #zim #superhero #superheroes #Dib #Gaz #Senior #Dite #Wiyn #science fiction fantasy