Cartoons » Invader Zim » Against the Machine Author: FaithfulWhispers
Rated: T - English - Sci-Fi/Angst - Reviews: 20 - Published: 11-03-19 - Updated: 11-26-19 id:13424843Chapter 1: The Shocking Truth
Zim stood at attention, his eyes focused on the two large figures displayed on the main monitor. He waited for a brief moment, then gulped down a large breath and pointed to his newest invention. It was a grey, block-like machine with a red satellite dish hovering over a model city.
"My Tallest, as you see here, I have my best plan yet."
"Looks like garbage to me," Purple scoffed.
Red shook his head. "Also Zim, we were in the middle of something quite important."
"More important than the highly secret mission that you bestowed upon me?"
Purple chuckled. Red, on the other hand, cringed. Their joke on the ex-invader was starting to get old...
Rubbing his temple, the crimson irken was ready to bring the call to a close. "Yes, it was of great urgency. We simply don't have the time to-"
"Oh, this won't take more than just a moment!"
"Okay, then show us, but be quick about it." Purple commanded through a mouthful of his doughnut. This only caused Red to sigh.
"Right! Well this over here is a model of the pathetic city I'm currently stationed near." Zim scampered over towards the machine. "And this is my brilliant, newest invention. Observe."
Then he lifted a small controller in his hand and promptly flicked the switch. A low hum vibrated through the air, followed by a flash of blue light. In a mere second, the model was reduced to the size of a quarter.
Red raised his brow in skepticism. "So you made a shrink ray? What are you going to do with it, shrink the planet?"
"Oh, of course not, that'd make the planet useless. I'm merely going to shrink all of the humans and the cities they inhabit. Then squash them like the insects they are!"
Looking rather pleased with himself, Zim flashed a huge grin "I plan on giving you two front row seats to the destruction of humanity through a special broadcast."
Tallest Purple's left eye twitched in disbelief. "Wait, wait… so you're just going to stomp on and squish everything? That sounds… amusing…"
"And dumb," Red whispered to Purple, before turning his attention back to Zim. "Well anyways, good work, Invader. We have important business to get back to, so we will be contacting you when we're ready for this, uh, show."
"Yes, my Tallest!"
A week had passed since Zim's last transmission with his leaders. He remained at his post, eager for their call to arrive. Although, as the hours droned on, his patience wore thinner and thinner until his shoulders finally slumped in defeat.
"It probably slipped their minds. They do have busy schedules as the Tallest, after all," He shrugged. "I will give them a call to remind them that their entertainment awaits."
He started typing away at his console, but then paused. If he was really going to go through with the plan now , there were things that needed to be attended to. Stepping away from the controls, he turned to his little minions, GIR and Minimoose.
"You two, go distract the Dib. Keep him away from the city at all costs. Make him think we're going to go blow up a volcano or something."
GIR bounced around Zim, screeching his little robot brain off. "Oh, I'm going to stuff that volcano full of rubber piggies! They're gonna' taste soooooo good."
"Neh!" Minimoose affirmed.
"Yes, yes. Very good. Just, before you go, make sure you did what I asked with the cruiser," he shoved a pointed finger between GIR's eyes. "And stay away from that explosive goop you spilled all over the bay floor earlier."
The robot's lights flashed red. "Yes, Sir!"
Zim watched as GIR grabbed Minimoose and jetted his way up the elevator. He only prayed that the moose could keep that robot in check. He would not have the smelly human child be a thorn in his side.
Not today of all days.
He smirked at imagination of what his rival's face would look like when Dib found his beloved, awful city in little pieces. It would be so delightful to see him cry. The smirk grew into a wide grin before he maniacally cackled. His laughter grew louder as he turned back to the console to begin preparing.
Even GIR couldn't mess up attaching the ray to the bottom of the cruiser, it was the easiest task he had given the robot that day. So all Zim had to do was activate the remote software for the ray to be deployed when he was ready.
Then the next thing on his list was to notify The Tallests. His laughter came to a halt as he checked his uniform and the room behind him. Nothing was out of line, which was surprising, since his base was always a mess.
"Computer, call the Tallest."
"Calling the Tallest," it echoed back. "Call declined."
"Hmmm, that's not right. They were expecting to hear from me."
"The connection was definitely blocked. And Sir, are you sure about that?"
"Don't you snark me. Call them again," He commanded, placing claws on his hips.
If the computer had eyes, it would have rolled them. "Call declined. Again."
"Oh fine, I guess I'll just leave them a message. They can tune into the broadcast when they're ready," Zim sighed as he proceeded to work with the controls. It was time to initiate the plan. "Now, connect to Irk. You know what to do."
"Uh, whatever you say. Connecting to Irk's Telecommunication Network..."
The Tallest could only stare at the scene displayed before them in pure horror. They were in the middle of a very important call with the ambassador of Junt, but a sharp familiar shrill filled the deck, interrupting all negotiations. The next thing they knew, every other screen had the same image of the small laughing irken on display. Zim's insufferable voice grated on Purples nerves, while Red wanted to scream.
Of all the times for Zim to be a menace, it had to be now.
The cackling grew more and more obnoxious until a loud boom thundered. Suddenly, the images shifted to what looked like an outdated Voot Runner exploding from the inside-out. A rain of pink little creatures fell from the blast.
Zim's wailing followed, "Not rubber piggies! Curse you, GIR!"
A small snicker sounded from behind, bringing the two leaders back to focus. Right, they had been in the middle of a call.
"You there, terminate that broadcast, and I want it done now !" Purple commanded. "I will throw you all out of the airlock if you don't get moving!"
Red left it to Purple to get a handle on the situation while he turned his attention to the other screen to do some damage control. The yellow alien folded his tentacles smugly across his torso.
"Ambassador Xun' tok, I apologize. It seems someone decided to air the comedy program a tad too early-"
"Oh, save it, Red. I've heard many stories about that little drone, and honestly, I'm a bit disappointed." He paused, glancing up and down at the leader before him. "I was hoping to see the real strength of your empire. The deal sounded so promising, but now, I would rather not waste Urth-ogg's time with-"
"Sirs, we have full control of all systems. Broadcast is now offline!" One of the technicians announced in the background.
The ambassador sighed. "If this is the finest Irk has to offer, then I'm afraid the deal is off. Don't bother reaching out again."
Red stared in disbelief as the screen went blank. He could hear Purple pacing frantically behind him. It took them weeks to get this meeting arranged. Weeks! And all of that work got thrown out because of that little, rotten-
"We need a soda!" Purple screeched to the service drones.
In a flash, the leaders each had a drink in their hand. Red sipped on his, while Purple chugged down the entire thing. Both of them were fuming at the loss of potential, valuable resources.
Now they were going to have to waste even more time conquering that planet and hope they don't lose anything as a result. The Juntax were a petty race, and they would rather blow up their own planet than let another species conquer them. After all, they had some of the rarest ores known on this side of the galaxy.
Precious metals that could have improved the entire amory.
Purple chucked the empty cup over his shoulder. With unbridled fury etched on his face, he stormed right over to the main call screen. Red followed in suit, still gripping onto his soda. It took every ounce of self control to stay calm, preparing himself to unleash his rage only on the single Irken who lost them the deal. How dare that little bug hack into their systems again .
"Open a connection to Zim. He's going to answer for what he's done."
"Incoming transmission from the Tallest," The computer announced in a booming voice.
Zim jumped and smoothed down his tunic. His plan hadn't gone quite as well as he had hoped, but he did manage to show off his clever engineering skills. Clearing his throat, he stood straight and faced the screen.
"Well, answer it!"
He folded his arms behind his back, eyes glimmering with excitement. His Almighty Tallest had called him back for must've had praises for his intellect and abilities, and even enjoyed the entertainment that had been provided.
However, the excitement dulled as a lump formed in his throat. Neither one of them had been smiling when the image appeared on the screen. In fact, Zim saw the opposite, and their antennae had laid flat against their skulls.
He would not let that discourage him. After all, he was their favorite invader…
"My Tallest, I hope that you found my, uh, test run to your liking? Yes, that was only a taste of what my machines can do!"
Purple clicked his tongue. Zim, you-"
"Great Irk, no matter where you are, you only cause problems!" Red shouted, slamming his drink down onto the table drone next to him.
Zim flinched, then he fidgeted where he stood. "My Tallest, if you could allow me to explain."
"No. This-This has gone on for long enough. There will be no more explaining. No more reports. Just nothing."
"Yeah! Nothing!" Purple echoed.
Red folded his arms. "You really are just a Defective, and as such-"
"D-Defective?"
"Yes, Defective. Did you really believe someone as small and worthless as you could ever have a top secret mission?"
The small irken's antennas drooped down. "But you said-"
"Well, I lied. You can't face reality even if it slapped you in the face, and kicked your squeedily spooch."
"Ugh, I'm just going to give it to you straight. You're banished and have been this whole time. Get that into your PAK. So stay on Earth or self-destruct, preferably self-destruct." Purple shook his head in disgust. "But you would even fail at that."
"Either way, it doesn't matter to us. You're finished," Red chimed back in. "From this moment forward, if you come within range of any Irken territory or ship, you're dead."
Tension ebbed at Zim, all the way to his very bones. The Tallest bore their gaze down on him through the glassy monitor. The decree repeated back in his head as commanded, cutting deeper and deeper.
The long pause only confirmed that their words had finally sunk into the tiny irken. For once, there wasn't any indication of back-talk from the former invader. Their steeled expressions held, and finally, Red turned towards the crew, signaling an end.
"See you never," Purple spat out right before the screen flashed to pitch black.
"Transmission terminated."
Zim stood motionless with his breath held. Banished? But, how? This couldn't be right… He had to think about this carefully, but as he tried, everything drew to a blank. What was he to do?
But wait.
Wasn't today going to be great? This was supposed to be the day he conquered, after all. Everything had been laid out for 100% success. Zim's immense urge to please rose over the conflict that stirred within. The Tallest were going to be so happy and proud, but yet they-
A sudden spark shot from behind his head. His back spasmed as an anguished cry ripped from his throat.
"Warning: System Overload," His PAK called out.
Zim face-planted the cold, unforgiving floor. Searing pain ruptured from the center of his spine. With as much strength as he could muster, he pushed himself back up off the ground.
Did you really believe someone small and worthless as you could ever-
"Critical Error: Device Unavailable."
Zim screamed again as another wave of shock jolted through his small body. He stumbled, wobbly legs carried him to the elevator.
"Computer, take me down to the lab, n-now!"
"Yes, sirrrr."
"Warning: Divide Overflow."
As the elevator descended, Zim could feel the memory unit in his PAK cracking as another spark flew past his antennas. His claws clutched at the back of his skull. Old, almost forgotten memories came rushing back to him.
What's a smeet like you going to do as an invader? Be bait?
"Warning: Connection Failure 303."
Zim, that has to be the stupidest idea any irken scientist has ever come up with.
"Critical Error: Failed to Connect to Drive 00041"
"Critical Error: Unable to Locate Drive 00049."
Look at him! He looks like he's going to cry, Red!
Aw, look at those sad little smeet eyes. Are you gonna cry because I took your snacks?
"Warning: Connection Failure 505."
Real invaders like us deserve these snacks, not a puny little engineer wanna-be like you.
The elevator stopped. Zim gasped as a sharp grinding reverberated from his PAK.
"Warning: Unable to Process Data."
"C-computer, set a timer. My PAK-"
Another pop, followed by a sharp pang to his skull. Smoke started emitting from the heated PAK.
Give it a rest, you're the worst invader this squad has ever seen. Go back to the labs and build your useless inventions.
"Error 651"
"Now!"
Zim tore the PAK off with an ear-splitting screech and slammed it down on the tool bench. The life-clock ticked within the corner of his vision, counting the precious seconds. He had ten minutes, but only eight of them would be of any use before his brain capacity shut down.
He had no idea where to begin, but he didn't have the time to think. Grabbing his wrench, he tightened some bolts, then noticed some of chip-sets had loosened. He quickly re-seated them and worked his frantic fingers into the guts of the PAK.
Around his hands, devices continued to spark. His heartbeat pounded in his skull, breaths uneven. A quick glance at the time indicated he had only five minutes left. However, as he dug around, there were compartments he had never noticed before. Wires hung loose from them, and without a second thought, he tore them out.
"Hopefully this will be enough," He groaned, tearing out more faulty cabling.
"Warning, you have two minutes remaining."
Zim's thoughts were starting to dull. He needed to reconnect before a stupid decision could be made with the repairs. Bracing himself for the connection, he set the PAK back onto the ports. The critical messages had stopped playing, but pain shot through several different limbs followed by faint pops.
His PAK was still malfunctioning.
At the very realization, he screamed in frustration. This was not how the mighty Zim would fall. If he was damned anyways, then there was no other choice-
"Computer, bring up the override workstation. Plug my PAK immediately and prepare the interface connection."
"Master, that would be unwise. Tampering with the PAK's base code can result in a fatal error."
"Don't argue! I have nothing left to lose, you infernal machine!"
"Ugh...yes, my master"
A large, orange projection displayed as the computer analyzed Zim's PAK. An assortment of diagrams were shown with labels, but then a padlock with a smiling irken symbol appeared and blocked the entire view.
"Warning, unauthorized to access critical PAK data."
Zim's eyes went wide. "What? That doesn't make sense. Why not?"
"You are not of rank to access that information."
"Screw the ranks. We're banished, so Irken laws no longer apply." He raised an unsteady fist, "Now, show me!"
A loud moan echoed through the room as the computer complied to its owner's request. The padlock was cleared away, which allowed Zim to dive into the files.
He was not a PAK technician by any means, but Zim had the training and genetic code to be a great scientist. Surely, he could figure out how to fix his without assistance. The throbbing pain wasn't going to be enough to keep him from doing so.
He bit down on his lower lip as he opened the "Attributes" folder. Within that folder, there had been several other folders. The one labeled "Inhibitors" had caught his eye. Inhibitors sounded important, probably was necessary to his well-being.
"Mood stabilizers? They're offline, but the description says-"
A flashing critical symbol appeared in the corner of the display, cutting Zim from his train of thought. He moved his attention to the modifier schematics to investigate, while wishing for the ache in his spine to cease.
"Wait a minute, is that a loyalty enforcer? Those are only used on scientists from conquered, inferior species..."
"It appears so, and it's overclocked to 250%," The computer confirmed.
"How is that possible?" Zim whispered. The muscles in his back spasmed as another crack resounded. He took a deep breath and pushed the disbelief aside. "Either way, it's obviously malfunctioning, so we should disable it."
He opened the configuration settings and hovered over the disable switch. However, it was as if an invisible force held his hand still. A sharp pinch radiated in his wrist, followed by a wave of nausea.
Perhaps I shouldn't...
Why? It needed to be disabled, but yet an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him. The sensation in his wrist spread through the entirety of his arm. His eyes began to water, and he could barely hold his breath down.
It shouldn't be this hard-
"Well, I suppose I could assist you," The computer interjected, "It's attempting to boost to 300%, and you're clearly in distress. My code does state I must assist you in dire situations…"
Then, as if it were nothing, the enforcer was disabled.
Zim's hand dropped as if it had been weighed down by a sack of rocks. The churning nausea receded, but an unfamiliar feeling replaced it.
It was a vague notion that the small irken couldn't quite grasp.
A moment passed as he tried to comprehend what it was, but the continuous throbbing in his head was far too distracting.
What is even causing that?
Zim delved back into the detailed schematics, desperate for relief. He ran a quick query on units associated with his nervous system. The station brought up a diverse list of programs, hardware, and modules as a result.
Then the grinding in his PAK returned, a faint memory slipped past his thoughts.
...40 shmillion mistakes…
"Of course, the memory conduit!" Zim shouted in realization.
He tore through the data and pulled open the logs, in search for any anomalies. With each batch, his shoulders grew more and more tense. The information provided had made no sense.
Then it dawned on him.
He couldn't spot any abnormalities because everything was inconsistent.
The error log was useless!
He paused his thoughts for a moment to reconsider. Maybe it wasn't so useless. What was causing all of those errors to trip? He scanned through the logs once more in search for any specific keywords or clues. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed there was a program that would execute at almost every turn, causing the majority of the memory issues.
"Overwrite Purge?"
That program wasn't new to him. Every Irken had things they would write off and wish to forget. Even so, the program would only run when the owner ordered it to. Zim never asked for the code to execute this much.
He did a quick search to locate the main source of the program and found it located within section with similar to the attributes folder he was in before. The list of different programs composed of thought inducers, behavioral limiters, and quarantines. His main concern fell to the overwrite protocols and suppressors.
"Why is all of that even in here? W-wait, no time. We need to disconnect them first."
Reading over the Overwrite Purge framework, the code had a separate path within his PAK that the host could easily access, but there was another function that ran passively in the background. The settings indicated that the script would run every time he thought or did something that was considered against Standard Irken Protocol.
But Zim always upheld irken standards. He was the greatest invader ever! How could anyone, including the Almighty Tallest, not see-
"Ow, my spine!" He cried out in agony as a sharp stab ebbed within his upper disks.
Then not even a full second later, a foggy feeling blanketed over his mind, even dulling the ache in his skull. He glanced back at the error log, his suspicions had been confirmed. A new entry sat at the bottom with the timestamp written from a moment ago.
It was no wonder why he had such terrible memory.
"Computer, shut that thing off right now!"
Zim steeled himself. The computer did not make a sound, but something within him clicked, indicating that the deed had been done. Then the notion he felt earlier only became clearer, which unsettled him.
All this time, he was never truly able to be himself.
He had always felt so restricted and rigid.
But even now, it made sense to follow the law. Every Irken should feel proud to serve the empire. Zim was no different, and he needed to be the best Irken he could be for the Almighty Tallests he had admired. But did he actually feel that way? Was it even the correct way to be? Or was it because these very modules, that he had no prior knowledge of, had told him so?
With thoughts unraveling, Zim became a bundle of nerves. An urgency overtook his thoughts to deactivate everything in that unit.
Using the computer's help, he was able to render that entire section offline. Just to be safe, he even had the AI isolate and reformat it, deleting all traces. He had to be thorough. Although, with that task out of the way, he had a gut feeling that there was more to his meltdown than malfunctioning behavior enforcers.
Something must've caused them to overload in the first place, which if he had done nothing, would have killed him.
If Zim wanted those answers, he was going to have to dig further, even deeper inside his code. He opened up a toolkit within the interface and began searching for the status and operator settings. The PAK contained everything that made up Zim, but perhaps something went unnoticed due to his amazing display of character.
He highly doubted that was the case, but at this point, the pain had been too excruciating for him to simply ignore that probability. All too real.
"Show me the status overview screen."
"Okay."
Many indication bars and charts filled his vision. The data would be overwhelming for any standard irken, but Zim was not just a run-of-the-mill soldier. He gave the screen a quick glance through and one particular graph caught his eye.
"Behavior levels?"
The chart had bars of different erratic lengths, some highlighted in red, while others were yellow. They indicated where the acceptable thresholds were located, and how his actions had far exceeded the allotment.
He scoffed.
Using the toolkit, he ran a script to remove the barrier thresholds. The chart disappeared, as if someone had deleted all of the data. His antennae twitched, and a light tingle ran down his spine.
But the sensation hadn't been painful.
He glanced back at the overview screen. His heart-rate and breathing levels were displayed, and while they were high, he wasn't concerned. When it came to his emotional state, he simply chose to ignore them, unless it was another stupid restriction.
With each item that had been removed, he felt lighter, unnaturally so. The painful reactions of his PAK had lessened as well, to the point where he had to really focus on it to feel it. Everything about the state of his code had just felt so wrong.
And it made him nervous.
Zim had never been this anxious in his entire life.
Why is this even happening to me?
Whatever the cause may have been, it didn't matter. Survival was his central focus. These strange, tingling feelings had no room to run rampant in his thoughts. He ignored them the best that he could, along with the weird numbing by the base of his spine.
Finally, he started getting into his main personality and PAK composition. While he would have gloated over his scores from past accomplishments, they were not his concern at the moment.
They were not the mistakes he was looking for.
No, the one thing that really bothered him, once he spotted it, was the allowances given to his PAK. The nutrients were enough to keep his body stable, but if it wasn't for the fact that he was so small-
"Wait, that's the amount of hormones I was issued as a smeet?" He asked in a hitched tone.
Sure enough, after pulling up expanded details, Zim was provided a growth rate chart. He squinted at it, scrutinizing every detail. If what he was seeing was correct, then it would mean every irken had a predetermined height. That they were assigned to their status at birth.
"B-But that doesn't seem very fair-"
He stopped, mouth clamped shut. Realization hit him hard.
"I guess I really am a Defective. The system had failed to mold me into a perfect unquestioning drone to serve the empire."
He looked down at his gloved claws, the trembling from earlier hadn't completely halted.
"The stress of keeping my emotions and personality in check was too much for my PAK to handle anymore…," he whispered.
Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. Now was not the time to dwell on it. After all, Zim had already come this far. He needed to finish what he had started. Invaders never backed down or gave up.
There was nothing he could do about the allowances at this moment, if even at all. So with renewed concentration, he continued to work through removing any leftover restrictions until all that remained was simply Zim.
Then the only thing left to handle was his rank: Food Service Drone.
"I am no fry-cook," he hissed out.
Without hesitation, he typed away, starting the encoding protocol. His biggest fear of being re-encoded would have stopped him before, but now, he wanted to be stripped of the pathetic branding. He had terminated the behavior module that would have subdued him into a mindless drone without a rank
There was nothing holding him back as Zim flicked the switch.
In response, electric currents ran through his entire being, causing all of his muscles to jerk and twitch in rapid succession. He squeezed his eyes shut at the shamefully familiar sensation, praying for a quick release.
Then finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, it ceased.
A quiet beep indicated that the rank had been stripped clean.
The PAK remained stationary within its ports, no sparking, grinding, or popping. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of his back.
Zim could breathe.
"Maintenance complete. PAK is fully operational. Congratulations, you are no longer bound to The Irken Empire."
Suddenly, the reality of the situation came crashing back down. Relief too short lived. Without the override protocols to sweep away the treasonous thoughts, what he really felt came flooding back.
Tallest Red had told him his mission was a lie . That everything had gone on long enough. He spent almost two miserable years on this planet, trying his best to please them, but it was clearly a cruel joke on their part.
"Red had always been a jerk. Purple too, that ass." Zim seethed out, memories from their invader days were still fresh in his mind. Earthen jargon was suitable to use for the likes of them .
Zim glanced back at the PAK holographic projection. He had gone through hell for his empire, for his Tallests, and this was his reward? Trapped forever on Earth with discarded scraps of junk he had the nerve to call great irken technology?
His PAK nearly self-destructed as a result!
At the thought of his PAK, he had to wonder, what were all of those misconfigured settings? It was hard for him to believe, because Zim had always known of his greatness, as well as his eagerness to please. But now, only it was only his greatness that remained. His squeedily spooch twisted at the thought of all the times he bowed down to his leaders, groveling for even a scrap of their attention.
Sickening was what it was.
And of course, the control brains weren't called as such for nothing. They literally attempted to condemn him to a life of fry-cook servitude. Just because he came out 'wrong'. That wasn't even his fault! If Red and Purple had just-
Zim's fist slammed on the bench before him. His small body began to quake once more as everything he had ever bottled bubbled up to the surface. He took a small vial in his hand and hurled it across the room, a loud shatter rang through the air. Then another container fell victim. It just wasn't enough. With a sweeping force, he shoved all of his tools off the bench, then kicked the table right over.
PAK legs unfolded themselves out of their compartment and Zim brought the sharp ends down onto the override station. The display distorted before completely dissipating, unlike the irken's anger. He let out a shrieking scream of frustration, continuing to stab the work station with the metal appendages. Over and over again.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Shmillions of light years away, a transmission was received on the Massive. The encapsulated message was a very special kind, only ever sent out when a PAK's monitoring device was damaged by means of self-destruction.
Almighty Tallest Red and Purple stared wide eyed at the screen. Jaws were ajar and snacks had fallen to the ground.
"He… he actually did it?" Purple asked, barely a whisper.
Red shook his head. "No way."
There was a pause as the situation processed in their minds. Purple turned to his co-leader, hoping for an affirmation.
"If Zim is dead, does that mean there's no more problems?"
"No more Zim, no more problems."
"I thought this day would never come."
Author's Notes:
Thank you for reading the first installment of 'Against the Machine'. I have always loved Invader Zim, ever since I was little kid. After the movie came out, I was inspired to get back into writing fanfiction, and honestly, I'm super excited. Having my friends encourage me really helped to get this chapter out, and I can't thank you guys enough.
I look forward to posting chapter 2. If you enjoyed this chapter, keep an eye out. There's more to come :D
Update: I drew up a cover piece for this work. It's based off a scene here in Chapter 1. Here's a link to it : post/189241153388/cover-art-i-drew-for-against-the-machine-its