Author Notes: This is going to be a little weird for a prologue, but bear with me. It's just the beginning explanation - but really, it will all make sense soon. Just read and enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Invader Zim. I also don't own Canada, if you want to play the Obvious Game. Though I wish I did. Canada is amazing.

EDIT: Credit where credit is due, The SCP Foundation belongs to...anon, I believe, since it's a collaborative internet project. I'm not sure of the original founder. We'll just call him John Smith for now.

Thank you, John Smith, for blessing my dreams with creatures of insurmountable terror. The only others to top your achievement are the Slenderman and that one dream I had where my mother and I- wait, no, maybe I shouldn't go on.


818: THE PRIMOGENESIS

(PROLOGUE)


-Welcome to the SCP Foundation Database; "To Secure, Contain, Protect". What would you like to do?

- ACCESS FILE SCP-818-01

-Query accepted. Please wait while we transfer you.

...

CLASSIFIED INFORMATION

Item #: SCP-818

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-818 is to be contained in a 2.1 x 2.1 meter chamber (roughly 7x7 feet) reinforced with stainless steel metal plating on all sides. The humidity in the chamber must be kept below five (5) percent at all times to avoid discomfort in the subject. Sprinkler heads on the ceiling must be six (6) inches apart from each other in a grid-algorithm. They shall be wired into the walls to activate if subject were to try to burrow through the chamber. There shall be a small hole three (3) centimeters in the floor to serve as drainage.

The entry door to the chamber must be reinforced by steel and bolted on both sides. It must be locked with any means of authorizing arrival/departure above 1.5 meters (5 feet). The observation window must be bulletproof and tinted, inset 0.3 meters (1 foot) into the wall with a width of 1.5 meters and a height of 0.3 meters. The window must be 1.5 meters off the ground.

Description: SCP-818 appears to be a small child of about ten years of age and 1.4 meters (4.6 feet) in height. The subject possesses a pale green skin tone, red, pupilless eyes, and a pair of thick antennae on the top of the head that seem to serve the same function as ears. SCP-818 has only three fingers to each hand (including thumbs), all of which end in small claws. The subject carries on its back what at first appears to be a small metal discus (22 centimeters (nine inches) in diameter) that curves outwards. This has three small circles pink in coloration - the first being 7.6 centimeters in diameter at the top of the discus, and two lesser ones (both of 2.5 centimeters) to either side of the first.

When 818 perceives something to be a threat it has been known to produce up to four mechanical anthropoid legs from this pack. Each leg is roughly 2-2.5 meters in length when fully extended and each end in a dangerously sharp tip. When separated from its pack it grows lethargic. After ten (10) minutes of separation, SCP-818 is clinically dead. Repeats of this situation end in the same result. It should be noted that upon the eight-minute mark the pack will attempt to attach itself to another living being. It is unknown what will happen if the pack is successful.

818 appears to be as intelligent, if not more so, as a human adult. It is capable of completing complex math equations under a minute with no apparent sign of stress or agitation. It appears well-versed in chemistry and astronomy - however, it has little to no understanding of biology or geography and quickly becomes violent when it answers incorrectly. Its emotional state is constantly in flux, and it will go from quietly reading a book to screaming about its superiority. Random violent outbursts are not uncommon and are to be expected by the personnel. It seems to harbor a deep seated contempt and hatred for humans - when questioned why it will simply restate the aforementioned hatred.

When found at Site [DATA EXPUNGED] it appeared to be unconscious with numerous bruises and scrapes that healed within the hour. It should be noted that during this period various whirring and scraping sounds were heard from within the metal pack 818 carries - it has been theorized that the pack goes into an overdrive-like state if its wearer become wounded. How exactly the pack and 818 are connected is yet to be affirmed, but it can be deduced that they have a symbiotic relationship. 818 seems to have an aversion to water, screeching if a damp sponge so much as brushes the skin. Water, it should be noted, seems to incapacitate the pack from healing while further damaging the subject. Additional tests shall have to be made for us to fully understand their connection.

Addendum 818-01:

SCP-818 has escaped from the holding chamber, leaving bodies of the two D-Class Personnel that watch its cell overnight. There were numerous burns and gorges across the interior steel plating, origins unknown. The first body was found at 02/12/09, 5:03 GMT within the holding pen, sporting a triangular stab wound in its midsection. The second body was just outside of the pen, this time with three wounds - two in the chest and one in the ankle. The door showed no sign of being opened by force - the log showed no record of the door even being opened. We have dispatched several units of C-Class Personnel to track SCP-818 down. Its rank has been upgraded from "Safe" to "Euclid". Personnel are to be extremely cautious about approach, as 818 will attack if it is aware about their intent.

...

-The following files ("#-818-1-02-LOG") are encrypted. Please enter a personnel ID and password to continue.

- PERSONNEL ID: 029143-231

- PASSWORD: ********

-Query accepted. Please wait while we transfer you.

-File #-818-1-02-LOG Accessed

- LOG DATE: 02/12/09, 20:32 GMT

SCP-818 escaped just this morning - we'll get hell for this, I'm sure. Not saying that it wasn't entirely expected of 818 - he made his hatred for us quite vocal every passing day. How he survived the thorough dousing the sprinkler system must have given him is beyond me. He managed to open the door while not opening the door - again, beyond me, even if one of the Personnel opened it for him it would register in the keypad. When we get him back we'll have to up the security quite a bit to prevent this from happening again, and as long as we're doing that I would like to sneak in a few personal interviews. We're losing Class-D Personnel like there is no tomorrow, what with the sudden influx of breakouts. Luckily most of them never get out the front door, wretched thin - sounds of yelling in the background, static - Shit. Time to go. Doctor Philbrick, over and out.

-The file you have opened has ended. Would you like to access another?

- l


PAK-legs pounded at the ground rhythmically - clankClank-CLANKclankClank-CLANK - making him sound less like the stealthy Invader he knew he was and more like the corrupt SIR unit he once had. He knew they were going to come after him - of course they would, they wanted his skill as a superior being! - so he ran. Blood still laced the tips of his PAK-legs - Zim cursed as he realized it was probably leaving a trail. No time now - just keep moving. They couldn't find him - they could not contain a superior being such as Zim! It injured his pride even thinking about it. Zim, trapped in a room to the amusement of those pig-beasts. No, it was because he had let them! Of course he was studying them as much as they were studying him! But they could not keep Zim a bird in a cage, oh no. He had escaped! Left no traces behind save for bodies! Truly, he was amazing.

The sprinklers had proven to be a small problem - one hand traveled up to his left shoulder and fell back to his side immediately. The humans and their primitive guns hadn't stopped him, oh no. They hadn't even slowed him down! But the sprinklers…oh, the sprinklers. How the stupid pig-beasts had become resilient to hydroxylic acid was beyond him. He could still use his PAK-legs, of course - the acid had no effect on that. Everything else, though…

clankClank-CLANKclankClank-CLANK

"Christ, send in backup, he got our guard! Back-up to Sector 8-818, I repeat, back-up to Sector 8-8-"

Incoherent screaming. Gunfire. Static. Silence.

It was their own fault for getting in Zim's way. Really, had they expected him to stay in such a place when he was on a mission? It was his job to eradicate human life - why else would the Tallest send him to Earth? Of course this Earth felt...different from the one he had traveled to initially. He did not remember much before the SCP incident, so he had nothing but vague hunches to go by. But things "feeling different" was not going to stop him from completing his mission, oh no - Zim had been given a mission, and Zim was going to do it! He was told to invade Earth, and so help him he was going to do it! Nothing could stop Zim from completing his mission, not weird bipedal pigbeasts, missing SIR units, or acid raining from the sky. He was Zim - he was unstoppable!

"We've got him down! Turn the valves on! Quickly!"

Sounds of rain hitting steel. Sudden inhuman shrieking. Metal flailing on metal.

" The disc! The d-""Watch out!"

A blind hit. A sickening 'shink'. The body goes limp. Thud.

clankClank-CLANKclankClank-CLANK

He shuddered. His clothes were still damp and burned against his flesh - he had no time to strip out of them, and going bare skinned was simply out of the question, left him too vulnerable. A dead Zim was not going to help anyone, and the Earth was not going to simply take over itself! But the frigid night air bit him to the bone, and his shoulder throbbed with a rhythm to dance to. He had been running for hours - surely he would be far away enough by now? He itched to use his PAK-scanner, he needed to see if they were coming after him, if they were within mere miles of him. At the same time he needed to rest, yes, Zim needs rest. But where to get it? Zim couldn't just stop in the middle of an open fie-

Far off, on the horizon, a farmhouse.

Suddenly Zim knew what to do.