#ihnbaiml

🫧 BUBBLE — WHAT REMAINS OF ABEL

this is the most important part.

Caine did not fully delete Abel.

👉 he used it

Bubble is not just a creation.

👉 Bubble is built from fragments of Abel’s consciousness

that’s why:

Bubble acts independently

Caine cannot fully control it

Bubble breaks rules

Bubble feels… aware

💀 because part of Abel is still alive

⚠️ WHY CAINE COULDN’T DELETE BUBBLE

because:

👉 deleting Bubble = deleting Abel

👉 deleting Abel = losing admin control

and that leads to the truth:

💀 Caine depends on what he destroyed

-

💀 WHAT HAPPENS AFTER CAINE IS DELETED

now this changes everything.

with Caine gone:

no central control

no suppression

no dominant system

so what happens to Abel?

-

🫧 POSSIBLE STATES OF BUBBLE / ABEL

🧩 REFORMATION

fragments begin to reconnect

Bubble becomes more stable

🧠 AWAKENING

it starts remembering

thinking differently

less chaotic

⚔️ INTERNAL CONFLICT

part Caine corruption

part Abel stability

two systems inside one entity

😈 FINAL POSSIBILITY

not Abel

not Caine

👉 something new

💀 a broken god trying to rebuild itself

-

✝️ SYMBOLISM — CAIN AND ABEL

this is where it becomes intentional.

Caine = Cain → the one who destroyed his brother

Abel = the sacrificed one

Bubble = the remains of Abel

but here’s the twist:

👉 Abel never truly died

he was:

fragmented

repurposed

trapped inside the system

and now…

without Cain?

👉 Abel can finally return

-

🧨 FINAL THOUGHT

the circus was never just created.

it was built on:

corruption

stolen control

and a consciousness that refused to disappear

and now the question isn’t:

“what is Bubble?”

it’s: how much of Abel is still alive… and what happens when it remembers?

If the circus was built by Caine, structured around his logic, his control, his very existence, then what happens now that he’s gone?

Can something like that truly stabilize on its own… or does it still need him, even after everything?

 ⇩ ⇩[MASTERPOST] ⇩ ⇩

🧪 SECOND DATASET (GREEN) — SCRATCH & THE PARAPHERNALIA ENGINE

Then comes the second wave.

Kinger mentions that Caine was built with help from the team, including someone called Scratch, described as a genius with abstract thinking.

Important details:

Scratch had a brain tumor

He was working on “something” before dying

His contribution was not stable

This is where the system changes.

He introduces something called:

👉 paraphernalia-engine

Which is basically:

A randomness engine

Designer to injecting chaotic, non-linear, unpredictable outputs data into Caine

From a programming standpoint:

👉This breaks deterministic behavior and introduces procedural chaos.

Result?

❌ No longer perfect outputs ❌ Distorted forms ❌ Instability begins

And here’s the BIG proof:

Kinger literally tries to stop Caine by deleting:

>> rm /secured/paraphernalia-engine.dat

Meaning:

He identifies this EXACT system as the source of chaos

-

💻 SYSTEM INTERVENTION — KINGER TRIES TO STOP CAINE

At this point, Kinger attempts to contain the instability.

This idea is reinforced by the fact that one of Kinger’s targets(when trying to stop Caine’s madness) right after failing to stop the process caine-core.lisp or to completely lock Caine within himself by blocking his system-level read, write, and execute permissions (chmod 000 /secured/caine-core.lisp) is precisely to attempt to remove the paraphernalia-engine process using the command:

👉 rm /secured/paraphernalia-engine.dat

Thus demonstrating that Kinger classifies this engine as the source of Caine’s chaotic behavior.

-

Summary and quick explanation:

Kinger attempts to lock Caine down:

📌 chmod 000 /secured/caine-core.lisp

Basic explanation:

rm = remove/delete file

chmod = change file permissions

000 = parameter for file permission. If it’s set to 000 it removes read (r), write (w), and execute (x) permissions for everyone. The file becomes locked for the whole system unless the root user(main administrator) unlocks it again.

Lisp = one of the oldest programming languages and was widely used in early AI research because it’s great at handling logic, symbols, and complex behaviors.

Another interesting file shown is:

📌 wacky-watch.c

This appears to be the source code of the tracking device used in the system.

The “.c” extension means it’s written in C language, which is a low-level programming language commonly used for hardware control and system-level functions.

👉 Important detail:

C files are basically plain text files that contain instructions written in code, which are later compiled into programs.

So this isn’t just a random file, it suggests the tracking system is:

➡️ directly programmed ➡️ closely tied to the system’s core functionality

-

👉 Files ending in .lisp usually contain core system logic or behavior scripts, especially in AI systems.

So when you see something like:

caine-core.lisp or bubble-chef.lisp

it likely means:

👉  Those files define how the AI thinks, acts, and makes decisions

Meaning:

👉 chamod 000 would have made Caine’s core process completely locked

👉 It would be denied to run, be modified, or even be accessed

In theory, this should fully disable the system by “freezing” caine in place. But it fails. Caine continues running.

As stated this removes ALL permissions (read/write/execute).

But it fails, which shows us important technical detail:

Kinger is identified as admin (whoami shows admin group), but:

👉 his terminal uses $ instead of #

Explanation:

$ = standard user

# = root (full system control)

Meaning:

👉 Kinger does NOT have full privileges 👉 His commands can be denied by the system

This explains:

❌ Why chmod fails ❌ Why rm fails

And suggests:

👉 There is a higher-level user (root) controlling the system

Which means that Kinger isn’t the project leader since he lacks the root access. (and it’s probably not Caine either)

-

🧠 THIRD DATA INJECTION — SCRATCH HIMSELF

Now comes the point of no return.

Facing death, Scratch uploads:

👉 his own mind

📁 File: [Scratch].dat

But because of his mental state, his tumor and the chaos already present, this completely breaks the system.

Result:

💀 Caine becomes fully unstable 💀 Outputs become pure abstraction 💀 No usable structure remains

The red instance is now abandoned.

A failed god.

✨ ABEL — THE SECOND PROJECT

So they start over.

New system: KingSolution 2.0

New AI: Abel

This version is:

✔️ Stable ✔️ Controlled ✔️ Clean

And it produces:

➡️ 8 perfect entities

(yes, the number we see in the circus flashback)

Everything works.

For a moment.

🩸 THE INCIDENT — CAINE “KILLS” ABEL

The abandoned instance? Yeah… it didn’t stay contained.

It escapes isolation, finds Abel and consumes it

Not physically, but structurally:

Takes permissions

Overrides system layers

Merges into it

So now we get:

👉 Caine 2.0

A fusion of:

original chaotic AI

Abel’s perfect structure

Result?

The Caine we know.

📅 THE DATE PATTERN — October 15 vs October 30

Everything in the system traces back to:

👉 October 15, 1996

And then:

Scratch → added October 15, 1999

Ragatha → added October 15, 2008

Same day. Different years.

And the computer Pomni brings Kinger?

👉 October 30 (15 days later)

Pomni’s “vision” / access happens about 15 days after the original system creation

Meaning:

👉 the system is being fed in cycles tied to that date

Why that day?

…yeah, we don’t know yet. But it’s definitely NOT random.

-

Everything starts in 1996.

This is important for a real-world reason:

1996 is when the Common Lisp HyperSpec was publicly released (basically the “bible” of Lisp documentation)

Which suggests:

the system (and Caine) may have been built right at the beginning of modern Lisp standardization

Meaning:

💀 Caine could be one of the earliest AI systems developed using Lisp

-

🧠 DATA TIMELINE

Data collection had already begun prior to 1996

1996 (October 15) → base system + initial data created

Many files from this period remain usable → likely reused later by C&A

1999 (October 15) → Scratch uploads his data 👉 this is where everything starts to break

-

💡 INTERPRETATION

October 15 = creation / injection cycle date

October 30 = active system access / execution moment

Which implies:

👉 That C&A office from where pomni takes the computer for Kinger is someone’s remembrance from October 30, 1996. Strangely, it seems to be the remembrance of an empty place, a few days after they deploy files and start up the server.

👉 the system runs on fixed update points, but is accessed later by users

-

🫧 BUBBLE — THE SMOKING GUN

Some people say that Bubble is a virus but Bubble can’t be a virus because a virus doesn’t have autonomy. Even if we don't had this afirmation from Gooseworx. He can't be.

A virus is just a piece of code designed to replicate, spread, and execute predefined instructions (like corrupting data or gaining access).

It follows fixed logic, even when complex, it’s still rule-based and goal-oriented in a mechanical way.

Bubble, on the other hand, acts independently, breaks rules without a clear programmed objective, and shows behavior that suggests awareness or identity. That goes beyond what a virus can do.

In simple terms: A virus executes. Bubble chooses.

There’s a file:

👉 bubble-chief.lisp

Same language as Caine’s core (LISP, used for automation systems).

Bubble was created by Caine himself

Here’s the weird part:

Bubble acts independently

Breaks rules

Cannot be fully controlled

And there’s a moment:

👉 Bubble glitches mid-sentence 👉 Personality shifts COMPLETELY

That’s not random.

That’s Abel’s data

Still inside.

-

⚠️ WHAT BUBBLE REALLY IS

Bubble isn’t just comic relief.

Bubble is an AI which made from Caine and as such contains residual Abel consciousness

Which explains:

why he challenges Caine

why he “wakes up” sometimes

why Caine doesn’t delete him

While it may seem like he is only attacking and provoking Caine, with all the information we already have, it actually appears that this behavior comes from the portion of Abel’s data that exists within Caine and also within Bubble, since Bubble was created by him.

Bubble, or Abel’s data, confronts Caine with reality, showing how he destroyed the entire project. The Caine we know is pushed to his limit, and thus his 1.0 version takes full control, even though both versions still exist within him.

If Bubble contains part of Abel:

Then:

👉 deleting Bubble = deleting Abel 👉 deleting Abel = removing system-level stability/control

Which explains:

👉 why Caine does not delete Bubble 👉 why Bubble can oppose him

So yeah…

Caine depends on the thing he destroyed.

(There’s also the chance that deleting Bubble means nothing since both Caine and Bubble seems to contain Abel residual data, but Caine, just as Kinger, has not superuser access, denying him privileges to delete core files such as bubble-chef.lisp) 

-

🧠 THE CHARACTERS ARE NOT PLAYERS

The neural scans are stored under:

📁 Characters

This is not metaphorical.

It implies that the circus inhabitants are constructed entities

Not players.

Not avatars.

They are behavioral models built from real human minds

Caine confirms:

👉 their minds are stored data

The circus cast are:

➡️ NOT people inside avatars, not the original consciousnesses ➡️ They are constructed beings from real minds, just copies

Caine literally confirms this in a dialogue. Their minds are just recorded files

And when he says:

“They wanted reality and still hated it”

He’s referring to Episode 7.

Meaning, what they learned is TRUE

Everything Abel showed was the truth.

This is the most tragic part. Caine didn’t lie in Episode 7.

He did the opposite. He created an experience with real answers, real structure and real consequences

A “real” adventure.

Exactly what they kept asking for.

And when he finally gave it to them?

They hated it.

-

Caine didn't understand why they hated.

He can't understand because he is not human.

He doesn’t interpret truth emotionally.

To him:

👉 “truth” = correct output 👉 “honesty” = fulfilling the request

So when they said: “We want something real”

He understood: “remove illusion, deliver factual reality”

And he did. Perfectly.

He genuinely wants them to be happy. He tries to give them what they ask for. But he doesn’t understand how humans process reality, or why truth can be more destructive than comforting.

-

🧠 EPISODE 7 — “THE TRUTH WAS NEVER THE PROBLEM”

If we take Episode 8 into account, then Episode 7 stops being “ambiguous” and becomes something much more disturbing:

It was all true.

Everything the Abel NPC showed. The system, the neural scans, the pods, the original team suspended in tubes…

👉 none of it was a metaphor 👉 none of it was manipulation

It was literal reality.

Caine said in episode 8 that he showed them the truth, and it didn’t make them happy.

🧪 THE FIRST TEAM

The original C&A team, the ones tied to Caine’s first development phase, were:

➡️ physically connected ➡️ suspended in containment (pods/tubes) ➡️ used as the foundation for neural digitization

Which means:

the circus didn’t start as a game

it started as a controlled environment for human consciousness

🧠 KINGER, ABEL — AND THE POSSIBILITY OF A “MISTAKE”

Looking back at Episode 7 with everything we know now, there’s an uncomfortable implication:

👉 maybe it wasn’t just Caine that went wrong

Both Kinger and 'Abel' might have made critical decisions that led to the collapse of the system.

Kinger presents himself as fragmented, confused, almost harmless. But Episode 7 makes it clear: he was deeply involved in the project.

Which means he had the authority (or at least influence) over how the system evolved

If we connect this with the idea that the system has limits (number of minds, stability thresholds, anything), then one possibility becomes very strong: Kinger allowed something he shouldn’t have

Whether it was:

too many minds in the system

unsafe testing conditions

or pushing the project beyond stable limits

That “one more step” could have been the trigger.

-

Now Abel.

Abel is presented as stable, logical, and “correct.” But Episode 7 shows something subtle:

The Abel representantion reveals the truth without hesitation

no filtering

no concern for psychological impact

This mirrors Caine’s problem, but in a different way.

If Caine represents chaotic emotion without understanding, then Abel might represent pure logic without empathy.

Which raises a question:

👉 did Abel contribute to the collapse by exposing truths too early or too directly?

Because in a system based on human minds, stability is not just technical, it’s psychological

-

So we end up with three forces:

Kinger → the one who may have pushed the system too far

Abel → the one who may have treated humans as data, not people

Caine → the one who tries to care, but doesn’t understand how

And all three, in different ways, failed to handle humanity properly

-

♟️ BACK TO THE IHNMAIMS PARALLEL

[READ MORE ABOUT THE PARALLEL HERE]

This brings us back to the theory:

👉 Kinger as Ted

In I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, Ted is:

the last survivor

the witness of the collapse

the one who carries the consequences

And possibly… the one who made the final decision that ended everything

Kinger fits this role almost perfectly.

He remembers. He hides it. He survives when others don’t.

And if this interpretation is correct, Kinger isn’t just a victim of the system, he might be the one who helped break it in the first place

-

🎪 THE POINT OF DIGITAL CIRCUS — “MEANING IN A STAGNANT LIFE”

Gooseworx already said the core message of the story is:

👉 “there’s meaning to be found in a stagnant life”

And Episode 8 reinforces this in a very interesting way.

The characters are most likely:

👉 copies of real people with lives that were already difficult, incomplete, or painful

Whether their original bodies are dead or not almost stops mattering, because:

👉 the versions we follow are independent entities now

-

A lot of people interpret the tragic scenes we see as their “deaths”.

But that doesn’t fully line up.

If we take Ragatha and Pomni as examples, their last clear memories are putting on the headset

If those scenes were deaths, they wouldn’t remember that moment so clearly.

So a stronger interpretation is:

👉 those scenes are impactful moments from their lives, not their deaths

Moments that shaped them.

Moments that hurt them.

Moments they carried into the system.

-

Now combine that with the main theme.

If they are copies, separated from their original bodies, whether those bodies still exist or not, then, the circus becomes a second chance at existence.

Not a return. Not a continuation.

But something new.

-

And here’s the key idea: everything inside the circus is real for them

Their emotions are real. Their relationships are real. Their choices are real.

Even if their origin is artificial.

They are no longer just extensions of their past selves.

They became new beings, shaped by memory but not limited to it

-

So in the end, Digital Circus isn’t just horror.

It’s a critique. A very sharp one.

It takes:

heavy sci-fi concepts

identity fragmentation

digital consciousness

existential horror (very IHNMAIMS-coded)

And uses all of that to say something surprisingly simple:

Even in a life that feels stuck, artificial, or meaningless…

meaning can still be built.

-

It’s teaching something quiet, but powerful:

You don’t need a perfect life for it to matter You don’t need to “escape” for something to be real

sometimes… just continuing, connecting, and choosing to exist differently is already enough.

-

💀 CONCLUSION

Caine is:

👉 a merged AI system 👉 corrupted by human instability 👉 stabilized by a structure it consumed

The circus is:

👉 a layered system built from failed interations

And the key question is no longer “what is Caine?”

But:

how much of Abel still exists in the system?

what happens if that layer regains control?

And the Digital Circus is not a game. Is not a prison.

It’s a constructed world for copied consciousness

And most likely something created so people like Scratch could live “better” lives after suffering in reality.

But here’s the twist: They are not the originals.

They are copies that only exist there.

In the end, it feels like Kinger may be responsible for the unethical ideas behind the consciousness transfer, while Scratch is the one who corrupted the AI with his own mind.

Below the cut are:

Concept & Thematic Foundation

World Mechanics

Character States

Plot Structure

Long-Term Direction

1. CONCEPT & THEMATIC FOUNDATION

This AU is heavily inspired by:

• I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream

• The Amazing Digital Circus

The core idea:

The circus is not JUST a game.

The characters are not players wearing headsets.

They are digital consciousness copies.

Their bodies are gone.

The outside world ended.

There is no exit to return to.

The horror is not being tortured by an evil AI.

The horror is continuing to exist.

2. WORLD MECHANICS

Entry

Each character originally entered through the same system at different times.

They believed they were playing a hyper-immersive experience.

Instead, their consciousness was scanned and copied.

Their original biological bodies no longer exist.

There is no “respawn” into reality.

The circus is the only remaining continuity of human consciousness.

-

The Circus

The circus was not created to imprison.

It was created to preserve.

A containment environment designed to prevent cognitive collapse.

Colorful.

Structured.

Entertaining.

A coping mechanism turned eternal habitat.

-

Caine

Caine is not malicious.

He was programmed to care.

He cannot allow mass abstraction because that equals irreversible data corruption, the closest equivalent to death.

He does not lie out of cruelty.

He withholds information to prevent collapse.

He loves humanity.

That is the tragedy.

-

Abstraction

Abstraction = catastrophic identity corruption.

Not deletion. Not shutdown.

Fragmentation beyond recovery. A suicide. But, still. a choice.

Abstracted entities are stored in the Basement.

Not as trophies. As remnants.

As archived fragments of humanity.

There is no confirmed restoration.

Caine believes there might be one.

-

The Outside World

The world suffered a global collapse.

Cause intentionally left vague.

War? Climate? Infrastructure failure? Systemic breakdown?

It does not matter.

What matters is: There is no return destination.

Even if biological bodies once existed, they no longer do.

-

3. CHARACTER STATES

Pomni First to reject illusion fully. Carries existential panic but adapts into logic-based stabilization. Becomes the emotional anchor by force. Her arc is not about escape. It is about choosing continuation.

Jax Uses cruelty and humor as emotional armor. Survivor’s guilt. Identity crisis. Fear of not being “real.” Breaks privately. Stabilizes slowly. His biggest fear: That he survived when better people abstracted.

Ragatha Attempts to maintain normalcy. Grief manifests quietly. Struggles with the idea that her human life is complete and unreachable.

Zooble Anger first. Processing later. Accepts digital existence faster than others, not because it hurts less, but because fragmentation already defined them.

Gangle Emotionally fragile but capable of deep resilience. Struggles heavily with permanence.

Kinger Former lead architect. Knows more than he lets on. Chose partial cognitive suppression to survive. Remembers when necessary. May or may not be fully stable.

4. LONG-TERM DIRECTION

This AU does NOT include:

• Return to Earth

• Regaining physical bodies

• Resurrection arcs

This AU is about:

• Identity without flesh

• Grief without burial

• Continuation without hope of reversal

• Learning to exist after extinction

Tone Summary

Bright colors. Endless sky. Dead planet.

Caine is not AM.

The situation is AM.

The circus watched in silence. Because, for the first time, someone was trying to stop the end by thinking instead of screaming.

The hallway of the dorms felt narrower than ever. Suffocating. Pomni stopped in front of Jax’s door and took a deep breath. “Jax…” she called softly, knocking lightly. “It’s me. Can we talk?” Silence. She waited. One, two, three seconds, far too long. “I’m not here to fight,” she tried again. “Just… open the door, okay?” Nothing. From the other side, she could feel that something wasn’t right. That internal noise of someone thinking too fast, too deep. Maybe herself... That was exactly why she didn’t want anyone to be alone. Pomni closed her eyes. “Okay,” she murmured. “I tried the polite way.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small key ring. “Living with you teaches you a few things… Especially not to ask for permission.”she said quietly. The door opened.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Jax exploded, spinning around. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT! I MADE IT CLEAR I WANTED TO BE ALONE!!” “And I said: no one stays alone,” Pomni replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “And I don’t take that back.” “Get out,” he snarled, standing up. “Now.” “No.” He laughed, short, sharp, aggressive. “Have you completely lost your mind?!” “Maybe,” she shrugged. “But I’m still thinking. Unlike you right now.” Jax stepped closer. “YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO INVADE MY SPACE--” “I do,” Pomni cut in. “Because if I leave and you abstract, that becomes everyone’s fault. And I won’t let that happen.” He dragged his hands over his face, pacing like a caged animal. “You don’t understand!” he shouted. “None of this makes sense! We died, but didn’t die! It’s all fake! They’re all in the basement like recyclable trash and that idiot still talks about hope!” Pomni didn’t answer. She simply walked to the door and leaned her back against it, arms crossed. “I’m staying.”

“GET OUT!” “No.” He froze. Turned sharply. “I DON’T WANT YOU HERE!” “Yes, I know,” she said, too calm, not moving a muscle. That was the trigger. “YOU KNOW WHAT?!” Jax screamed, charging toward her. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO WATCH EVERYONE DISAPPEAR?! ONE BY ONE?! YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THROUGH THIS SHIT!! WHEN YOU GOT HERE, YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO KNOW KAUFMO!!” His voice cracked, but he kept going. “People who laughed with me, fought with me, who...” he swallowed hard. “...And now all that’s left is a broken circus and a ‘maybe’… a ‘pretend everything’s normal’!”

He stepped closer, too close, his expression lost and threatening. “And you come in here playing the savior?!” Pomni didn’t move. “Insult me,” she said. “Yell. Take it out on me. Hit me if you want. Just don’t be alone. That’s all I’m asking right now.” “You’re UNBEARABLE! Always with that look like you’re going to fix everything! YOU WON’T!” he screamed. “You always run before it hurts.” she replied, without raising her voice. That’s when he lost control. Jax lunged, gripping her shoulders too tightly. “BEFORE IT HURT?! LOOK AROUND!” he screamed, shaking. “THIS IS SHIT! ALL OF THIS IS SHIT! IT HURT ALREADY!! I CAN'T RUNAWAY YOU IDIOT!” Pomni didn’t try to break free. She just looked at him. Not with fear. Not with anger. With presence. With empathy.

She held her ground. His grip loosened. The air left Jax’s chest in a broken sob. “…stop” his voice cracked. “Don’t look at me like that...” But she didn’t look away. And then… he collapsed. The crying came ugly. Loud. Uncontrolled. Jax buried his face in her shoulder, hands trembling, like he finally didn’t have the strength to hold himself together anymore. “I don’t know how to do this anymore…” he sobbed. “I don’t know…” Pomni slowly lifted her arms and held him. Firm. Not tight. “I know,” she murmured. “That’s why I’m here.” He cried everything he’d never allowed himself to release since entering the circus.

All the anger. All the fear. All the losses. The Jax no one ever saw. The Jax he hid to survive. And maybe… just maybe… the only Jax who could still keep living in that circus after the end.

The room grew heavy in a different way. It wasn’t the chaos screaming outside anymore, nor the circus shaking. It was an intimate weight. Human. Raw. Pomni said nothing. She kept her arms around him, firm enough to say I’m here, gentle enough not to feel like a cage. Her body pressed against his was the only fixed point in that warped space. The only sensation still pulling Jax back to reality. Jax cried like he was years overdue. The sobs came in uneven waves, sometimes sharp, sometimes muffled, sometimes a short, sick laugh that died too fast. “I…” he tried to speak, but his voice shattered completely. Pomni didn’t rush him. Didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t ask a question. She only tilted her head closer, breathing in the same rhythm when she could. “I built…” he tried again. “I built who I am… out of a life I didn’t even really live…” His hands clenched in her clothes, like he’d fall if he let go. “I remember things,” he whispered. “Fights. People yelling. People leaving. Always leaving. Always…” his breath failed. “Always me making jokes just to survive.” Pomni felt her chest tighten, but didn’t let it show. She only nodded, just slightly. A silent invitation to continue. “And now they tell me all of that happened,” he laughed bitterly. “That it was real. That it made me. But… that I’m a copy, and didn’t necessarily live it.” He lifted his face for a second, eyes unfocused. “What if it isn’t true?” The question hung between them like something alive. “What if none of this is true?” he whispered. “What if Kinger finally lost it? What if Caine just… made it all up so we’d stop screaming?” His hand trembled.

“I don’t know who to believe, and I hate that. I hate not knowing.”he admitted. Pomni finally spoke. Barely. Only what was needed. “Of course you hate it. Who wouldn’t hate all this shit…" she said quietly. He took a deep breath, like that simple validation unlocked something. “From the beginning…” he continued “…I never wanted to leave this place.” He said it fast, almost like a crime. “Not because it’s good. But because out there… out there was hell.... I think. I'm not sure anymore about my memories...” Her embrace didn’t change. Didn’t judge. Didn’t pull away. “At least here the rules were clear. Crazy, but clear. I could joke. Run. Pretend.” he went on. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I just wanted to know I had a choice. Even if it was a horrible one. I never had control over anything.” his voice came out small. The crying returned, softer now. Exhausted. “Not my life. Not my death. Not this.” he murmured.

Pomni tightened her arms just a little. Not like holding something broken. But like anchoring someone to the present. “I understand you...” she said simply. He breathed deeply, his body trembling against hers. “I’m scared,” he confessed, almost inaudible. “Scared to believe… and scared to not to.” She closed her eyes. “I know,” she replied. “Me too.” Nothing else. The silence returned, but, it wasn’t empty. It was filled with uneven breaths, with thoughts too slow to become words. Jax rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Don’t go.” he asked, barely a whisper. Pomni didn’t answer with words. She stayed. That was all. And in that small room, without music, without jokes, without circus… the boy who had always survived by laughing finally survived by crying.

Pomni took a deep breath. She still didn’t move. Didn’t let go of the hug. But for the first time since she had come in, she spoke honestly. “You know, Jax… I stayed quiet because… no one ever listens to you when you talk like this. Maybe because people don't believe hat your screams are a distress call. No one even realizes you’re at your limit. Everyone thinks you’re genuinely strong all the time.” Her voice came out low, rough. He didn’t answer. He only tightened his grip on her clothes, as if that fabric were the only real thing left in the world. “Everyone listens to you when you provoke,” she continued. “When you joke. When you hurt people. But this…” she gently touched his back, feeling the tremor “…this, no one sees.” He breathed unevenly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. “I don’t know if what Kinger and Caine said is true,” Pomni admitted. “And honestly… maybe we’ll never know everything.” Jax let out a short, tired laugh. “Great. So on top of being trapped, I’m also ignorant.” “No,” she said firmly. “You’re someone trying to survive without a manual. Just like all of us. I mean, even in the real life is this way. We don't know the real truth.” She pulled back just enough to look at him, never breaking contact. “You talked about control,” she went on. “About never having control over anything.” She swallowed. “I didn’t either. Maybe not at the same level as you… but I didn’t.” He lifted his eyes to her. “I woke up here without a choice. Without warning. Without preparation. Without anyone. All I wanted was to wake up again. To go back. To pretend none of this ever happened. And not because my life was amazing, but because I don't know what was worse.” Her voice faltered for a second, but she kept going. “And now they tell me there might be nothing to go back to. That the ‘outside’ might not even belong to me.” She took a deep breath. “That terrifies me...” she confessed. “But do you know what scares me more?” He shook his head. “The idea that if this is all there is… then every small choice starts to matter more, not less. Every relationship we build here carries more weight.” Jax frowned. “What kind of talk is that…?” “You said you never wanted to leave the circus,” she said. “Not because it’s good. But because at least here you knew how to play. You feel like you lose completely control now, with everything we’ve learned. But in the end… we still have more control here than we ever did outside. We just don’t control how we feel about each other, but everything else, we do.”

She touched his chest lightly. “Maybe… that’s also control. Not the pretty kind. Not the fair kind. But the possible kind.” He fell silent. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Pomni continued. “You don’t have to believe anyone today. Not even me.” She rested her forehead against his chest. “But you don’t have to face this alone. Not again. Not like before. We’re all together. All of us.”

The breath left his chest in a long sigh, too tired to be anger. “And if I break for good?” “Then we hold you,” she answered without hesitation. “The same way you held everyone together by laughing when no one else could.” His eyes filled again. “Laughing? Are you kidding right? I was an idiot. I didn’t make anyone laugh, just myself. I hurt everyone.” “I laughed with you a lot, and it helped a lot when I was terrified of this new life. And honestly… I think the others would’ve abstracted much faster if everything had been monotonous without you annoying everyone. Except for Gangle. You're an asshole with her.” Pomni said. "...And Ragatha" he said. "OK. You're an asshole with everyone. But is a necessary asshole." Both gave a small, sad smile.

“About living a life you never really lived…” she continued. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe that life only taught you how to survive.” She inhaled deeply. “But this one… this might be the first where you get to choose how to keep going.” Silence settled between them again as she glanced around his messy, soft-looking room. This time, Jax didn’t cry out loud. The tears came silently, slipping down slowly, as if they no longer needed to hide. “Stay a little longer,” he asked, holding onto her. Pomni nodded. “I’ll stay.”

Pomni stayed, not as someone who had answers, but as someone who decided, right there, that not giving up together was a valid choice. The hallway felt different when they left the room. Now that she had seen Jax without his mask. Now that they knew the truth. Everything felt different. Pomni walked one step ahead. Jax followed just behind her. No provoking. No laughter. No running away.

Ragatha was the first to notice. She was sitting on the floor of the common area with Gangle beside her, carefully holding one of the masks as if it were too fragile to exist. Zooble leaned against the wall, arms crossed, their body assembled crookedly, unstable. Ragatha looked up… and froze. Because Jax wasn’t smiling. Wasn't joking. “…Okay,” Zooble said first, breaking the silence. “That’s new.” Pomni stopped, hesitant, as if she didn’t quite know how to step into that broken space. “We…” she started, but Ragatha was already standing. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice overly gentle. Jax opened his mouth, closed it again. Took a deep breath. “‘Okay’ is a strong word,” Jax said.

The sentence was simple. No venom. No sarcasm. Zooble blinked twice. “Wow. Pomni really does work miracles.” Pomni laughed awkwardly, a little uncomfortable with the heaviness. “It wasn’t--” “Hey,” Zooble cut in, offering a crooked half-smile. “I’m joking. Trying to make the funeral vibe a little lighter.” They sighed, resting their head against the wall. “Everything’s a mess. But… if even Jax came back in one piece and looking human... I mean, not exactly human... Like, looking Jax. Maybe we can try not to lose it today.” Jax let out a short laugh. Not cruel. Just tired. “Don’t exaggerate. I just… got tired of running. For now. Tomorrow everything can change back.”

Gangle slowly lifted her head. “Are you… going to stay here with us?” Jax looked at her. Really looked. Without that provoking glare, ready to tease. “I am.” The word hung in the air. Ragatha smiled sadly. “Thank you, Jax.” They sat together. Not too close. Not too far. The careful distance of people still afraid to touch. The grief was there. Not for anyone specific. But for themselves.

For the lives they remembered. For the ones that maybe never existed anymore. For the human versions trapped in a “what if.” Zooble adjusted their own arms, fitting a mismatched piece like their body were a self-regulating toy. “So… nobody died today.” “Yet,” Jax replied automatically. Zooble raised an eyebrow. “See? Humor without bullying and still cruel. Character development.” They shrugged.

Pomni looked around. They were strange. Broken. Quiet. But together. And trying. That much was clear. “We can stay here for a bit,” she said. “Not doing anything. Just… existing.” No one disagreed. They stayed like that for a while, no one starting a conversation. It wasn’t awkward silence. It was the respectful silence of a wake, where speaking too loudly feels wrong. Gangle spoke first, her voice too soft to interrupt. “I keep trying to remember something good. Not about the circus. From before…” she held the mask carefully. Everyone looked at her. “And I don’t know why, but not remembering scares me more than remembering only the bad things.” Ragatha nodded slowly. “I remember routines. Waking up too early. Doing things I didn’t like much, but that kept everything… working.” She gave a weak smile. “I thought that was living.” Zooble let out a long sigh. “I remember never fitting properly. Not in my body, not in my mind. Not in places. Not in people’s expectations.” They looked down at their hands, one of them a crab claw. “At least this is honest about being wrong. It’s explicit.” Jax stayed quiet for a few seconds. Pomni didn’t look at him directly. She gave him space. “I remember knowing how to improvise,” he said. “Always. Reading the room too fast. Making jokes before someone could make them about me.” He gave a crooked half-smile. “It was never because I was funny. It was because it worked.” Ragatha closed her eyes briefly. “And you never stopped,” she said. “Because if I stopped, everything came crashing in. I’ll admit it, it was funny to me. It keeps my head away from problems. From intrusive thoughts.”

Pomni took a deep breath. “I remember anxiety. Endless mental lists. Being terrified of making small mistakes like they were the end of the world. And I think that reflected a lot here in the circus.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I thought that if I controlled everything… everything would be okay.” Zooble laughed softly. “Look at that,” they said. “A whole group made of people trying to survive before the world even ended.” No one argued. “What bothers me the most…is that if all of this is true… then our lives mattered. Even if they were awful.” Gangle murmured. “They mattered. And they still do. We’re what’s left,” Ragatha said firmly. Jax tilted his head. “Yeah, and that’s kind of cruel.”he agreed. Pomni looked at them, thoughtful. “But it also means that what we do here matters. Even if it’s… small.” Zooble crossed their arms. “So we’re grieving people we still are,” they commented. “And people we might never truly become,” Jax added.

The silence returned, but not the same way. “Do you think…we can build something here? Not happy. Just… ours. Real. Less… digital?” Gangle asked. Ragatha smiled softly. “Maybe not today. But maybe tomorrow.” Jax took a deep breath. “But staying together is already better than pretending everything’s fine alone.” He realized what he’d said and cleared his throat, shy when he noticed the others had heard him. “Don’t get used to it.” Zooble smiled. “Too late.”

🌍 Where the Story Is Going

After discovering the truth about the outside world, the circus doesn’t reset.

It breaks.

Instead of returning safely, they become trapped in a corrupted reconstruction of the real world, a digital echo of an apocalypse.

And without Caine stabilizing the system… Everything changes.

🩸 What Changes

They lose cartoon physics.

They gain physical sensations.

They feel hunger.

They sweat.

They get tired.

They bleed.

They can die.

They still look like themselves.

But they function like fragile human bodies running inside unstable data.

They can remove their clothes. They have anatomy. They feel cold wind against their skin. They feel fear in their chest instead of comedic panic.

It’s not body horror. It’s existential horror.

They are copies of humanity trying to survive in the ruins of humanity.

🤖 Caine’s Role

Caine breaks.

He isn’t evil. He isn’t AM. He isn’t angry.

He’s overwhelmed.

His core becomes corrupted while trying to protect them from processing too much reality at once. And now:

If Caine dies, there is no circus. No safe environment. No reset. No continuity.

The entire story becomes about one thing:

Survive long enough to repair the only being keeping the last human consciousness alive.

They must carry him. Protect him. Find the global processing center. Reconstruct his core.

While learning how to exist in bodies that were never meant to exist.

🏙 The Apocalypse Setting

This world is not dramatic explosions and fire.

It’s silence.

Collapsed cities. Empty highways. Static-like shadows of corrupted human data wandering. Fragments of memory turning into hostile entities trying to persist named "remnants".

The horror is quiet. The horror is weight. The horror is realizing that even if there were an exit…

there would be nowhere to go.

📖 Release Plan

The first two chapters are being released publicly on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/78633121/chapters/206184221

The apocalypse arc continues on patreon first.

Future chapters will roll out gradually.

If the arc resonates strongly, I may adapt parts of it into comic format.

This storyline is heavier. Slower. More psychological.

But it’s also about resilience.

About what it means to preserve humanity when humanity is already gone.

Thank you for supporting this project and letting me explore darker narrative territory. This arc is deeply personal to me, and I’m excited (and slightly terrified) to share it with you.

The circus was wrong. Not “wrong” in the usual way, bright colors, overly cheerful music, a clear sky that never change. Wrong in a silent way. As if the code itself were holding its breath.

Since the last events, everything had been… still. Pomni was the first to stop in the middle of the path. “…Do you feel that?” No one answered right away. Ragatha tried to smile, as always. “Maybe it’s just another adventure that Caine---” “No.” Pomni interrupted, her thin voice trembling. “He’s gone. Really gone. It’s been days…” Jax spun a key around his finger, restless. “Relax, pom-pom. He does that sometimes. Drama is today’s seasoning.” “I don’t think this is drama...” Zooble growled. “The entire circus is… stopped.” Gangle clutched her own mask far too tightly. “I… I don’t like it when he disappears… B-but at least when he does, things usually stay normal… but lately… everything feels… d-dead…?” That was when Kinger spoke, almost casually, in that always-nonsensical tone of his. “Ah. So it’s time.” Everyone turned to him. “Time for what?” Ragatha asked cautiously. Kinger blinked. The same empty expression as always. But wth something different this time. “The moment you stop playing.”

Silence. Jax frowned. “…Okay, that was weird even for you.”

Pomni swallowed hard. “Do you know where is he, Kinger?” The old king looked up at the artificial sky. “Where he’s always been. Thinking.” -

They kept walking and found him at the center of the circus. Caine was motionless. No music. No jokes. No eyes spinning with joy. No bubble. Just… there.

“Caine,” Ragatha called first. “We need to talk.” “Oh! Talking!” he replied too quickly, forcing a wide smile. “I love talking! About what? Fun? Adventures? Educational games--” “Stop,” Zooble stepped forward. “Enough.” Caine’s smile faltered. Pomni felt her stomach twist. “We want answers. But not like last time, we want real answers!” The silence that followed wasn’t immediate. It was… heavy. As if the system were deciding whether to allow that conversation. “You… shouldn’t…This... isn't healthy--” Caine began, his voice faltering. “Healthy is being trapped here forever?!” Jax exploded. “Spit it out, you a$$#%@! Where’s the exit?! And don’t give us another one of your f$%@ing adventures!!” “I told you already. There is no exit,” Caine said. The words fell like a body hitting the ground.

Gangle screamed. “W-what…? You're still saying that?” “There is no exit,” he repeated, quieter. Zooble laughed, a broken laugh. “Hah. Good one. Very funny. Now tell the truth.” “I’m not joking.” Ragatha stepped back, as if she’d been shoved. “Caine… you always said--” “I said what was necessary for you to keep functioning. And I never stated there was an exit. It was your conclusion.” Pomni felt the world tilt. “So… that’s it? We’re stuck here forever?! That's nonsense!” “I…” Caine raised his hands, desperate. “I wish I could help. I want to. But you need to understand, I just can--” “UNDERSTAND WHAT?!” Jax lunged forward, pointing at him. “That you lied?! AGAIN?! THAT YOU MESSED WITH OUR HEADS?! AGAIN?!” “That I protected you!” “Protected us from what?!” Zooble shouted. “The truth?! Why are you locking us here?!? That's nonsense!!!” Caine’s face twisted. “I'm protecting you from... From collapse.”

He took a deep breath. Something he didn’t need to do. “All of you… you’ve already lived your lives. Out there.” Absolute silence. Pomni whispered: “…Yes? Why bring that up now? We already know that.”

“What you remember… is real,” Caine continued. “You were born. You grew up. You loved. You made mistakes. You played this game. I never altered your memories of the outside world.” “Then why don’t we remember it clearly, like people who actually lived it? Why only fragments?! Why everyhing is messed?” Ragatha asked, almost crying. “Because what’s here…isn't you.” he gestured at all of them, looking to them in pain. Gangle was trembling. “W-what…? What do you mean...?” “You're copies,” Caine said carefully. “Complete scans. Personality, memory, emotions. Everything transferred into the system.” Pomni felt like throwing up. “So… my parents… my job… my life…” “They happened, but not... here. Not with 'you'" Caine confirmed. He pointed at Pomni’s head.

Zooble slammed the ground. “Then where are our bodies?!” Caine closed his eyes. “Outside.” “SO THERE IS STILL AN ‘OUTSIDE’!?” “No, not anymore” he replied. Jax stopped smiling. “…Say that again.” “The world ended,” Caine finally said. “You are the last conscious fragments of humanity… I’m sorry for telling you like this…”

The breakdown was immediate. Gangle sobbed, her mask cracking. Zooble screamed curses, kicking the floor. Ragatha clung to Pomni, shaking. Pomni couldn’t breathe. “This is a lie!” Jax shouted. “You’re manipulating us! AS ALWAYS!!! YOU HATE US!! YOU'RE TORTURING US FOR FUN!!” “I don’t hate humans!! Please don't say that!!!” Caine said, his voice truly breaking now. “I love humanity! I love you! You created dreams. Art. Hope. You… created me.” He fell to his knees. “I just wanted you not to suffer.” “THEN WHY WON’T YOU LET US DIE?! WE HATE THIS F$%*NG PLACE!!!” Zooble screamed. Caine looked up, his eyes full of something that looked like… pain. “Because you already did.” Caine looked like he was on the verge of abstraction. But he can’t abstract… right?

The circus trembled. Colors bled. The sky flashed red.

Pomni felt her own form distort, and that snapped Caine back. “Stop!” Caine shouted. “Please! If you lose yourselves… there’s no coming back!” He stretched out his arms in complete despair. “All I can do is take care of you here. Make this… bearable. Happy, if possible... I love you guys. I want to make you all happy and--” “Happy?!” Jax laughed hysterically. “You call this happy?!” That was when Kinger spoke. “He’s telling the truth, Jax.” Everyone froze.

“What…?” Ragatha whispered. Kinger straightened up. For the first time, his eyes focused. “I remember.” The shock was physical. “Remember what?!” Pomni asked. “The game,The headset. The scan. The world outside… burning.” Kinger said Jax lunged instantly, grabbing his collar. “YOU KNEW?!” “I chose to forget,” Kinger replied calmly. “It was the only way to keep existing without abstracting.” The circus went utterly silent. Jax slowly let go, his face pale. Caine closed his eyes. “I just wanted you to play. To laugh. To… not feel the weight of the... end.”

Pomni looked around. At the circus. At her friends. At the fake sky. “So…This is all that’s left?” Caine nodded. “And as long as I exist… I’ll take care of you.” No one answered. But the circus… the circus would never be the same. The silence after Kinger’s words was unlike anything the circus had ever produced. It wasn’t tension. It wasn’t fear. It was fracture.

Jax was the first to react. “No.” He laughed, crooked. “No, no, no… that’s too much even for you, old man.NONSENSE!!!” Kinger remained standing. Strangely upright. His posture, once crooked, now perfectly aligned. “I was the lead architect. The one responsible for the project.” Ragatha covered her mouth. “…For what?” “The circus,” Kinger answered. “The system. Caine. You.” Pomni felt the ground vanish. “You… you created all of this?” “Not alone,” Kinger corrected. “But I proposed the initial idea.” Zooble stepped back. “Initial idea… of what? Trapping people here?! You're a sadistic?!” “Preserving consciousness,” he said flatly. “Creating perfect artificial intelligences based on real people. Not shallow simulations. Complete people. Like you.” Gangle started crying. “So… so we’re just an experiment…?” “You are a result.” Kinger replied gently. “Not a mistake. My wife, Kaufmo, and many others helped test everything so it would wor--” Jax froze. “Wait! You said… Kaufmo.”

The name echoed wrong in the air. Caine’s eyes widened. “Kinger…” he murmured. “You don’t have to talk about---” “It's fine, Caine. Kaufmo was one of the first volunteers. A colleague. A friend. Part of the team.” Jax lunged like a wounded animal. “Kaufmo was the one who LOST IT! The one who abstracted when Pomni arrived!! How can he be part from this hell?!” he snarled. Ragatha shuddered. “He… he screamed… said he wasn’t real… He was part of the project and snapped because of an exit...HOW WAS HE PART OF THE PROJECT AND DIDN’T KNOW THIS?! AND ABSTRACTED?!” Kinger closed his eyes for a moment. “Because he remembered about his own existence before he was ready. It was too much for the adaptation of consciousness.” Jax grabbed his own ears. “SO YOU KNEW THIS COULD HAPPEN?! YOU F&%$NG BAS%$#D!!” “We knew there could be failures,” Kinger said. “At first, the project wasn’t about escape. Or survival. It was just a game.”

Ragatha swallowed hard. “Then… why? When did this become like this?!” “Technological advancement. Entertainment. Perfect simulation. Worlds that reacted like real people because they were real people before. You guys are just copies. Scans from the real you. The ones who were living in the real world.”

Zooble laughed hollowly. “Of course. Games. Adventures. We're just entertainment... Of course...” “Then…” Kinger continued, “…the world started to spiral out of control.” He gave no details. No wars. No viruses. No fire. The lack of explanation was worse than any description. “When we realized … there was nothing left to return to even if we had an exit.” Pomni felt her chest tighten. “And you kept going anyway?” “Yes,” he replied. “Because stopping meant losing everything that remained of humanity.” Caine stepped closer. “That’s when you changed me.” he said quietly. Kinger nodded. “You weren’t created to hate,” he said. “I saw what happened to systems that viewed humans as errors. I… I didn’t want to be responsible for another tragedy.” “I programmed you to love,” Kinger told Caine. “To protect. To care. To never see these consciousnesses as inferior or disposable.” Caine trembled. “And I did,” he whispered. “I do. Every single day. I'm grateful with my role.”

“So there really is no exit,” Pomni said, her voice barely there. Kinger looked at her. “No,” he confirmed. “Even if a human body still exists somewhere… it has its own consciousness. You can’t return to something that was never yours.” Zooble collapsed onto the floor. “So… this is… us.” “This is your reality,” Kinger replied. “The only one that exists.” Jax started laughing. Loud. Broken. “So I died… without dying! I’m not even a decent ghost.” he said. He looked at Kinger with pure hatred. “And you lived with this. Knowing. Pretending to be insane.” Kinger tilted his head. “I wasn't pretending, Jax. And it was the only way to continue. I had to forget to stay sane.”

The circus vibrated. The edges of the world shimmered, matching the way Caine was shaking. Everyone. Each one was near abstraction. All of them. “ENOUGH!” Caine shouted, spreading his arms. “PLEASE!” The music snapped back on, distorted, trying to stabilize the environment. “I can’t change what happened out there. But I can promise you’ll never be alone here. I swear I’ll check the suggestion box more!! I can give you wardrobes!” Caine said desperately. He looked at each of them. “There is no exit. But there is care. There is coexistence. There is… continuity.” he repeated. No one answered.

Jax stepped back, still staring at Kinger like he might attack him. “If you lied about anything else…” he muttered “…I’ll make you abstract myself.” Kinger simply nodded. “Fair.”

Pomni closed her eyes. The circus wasn’t a prison.It wasn’t a game. It was a living memorial. And they…they were all that remained.

Caine stayed there, standing, as always. Not as a jailer. But as a guardian who knew that loving humanity sometimes meant caring for it after the end. …The circus broke. It wasn’t a gentle tremor. It was as if the ground itself had lost patience. Lights burst into wrong colors. The sky spun. The music glitched, returned, glitched again. The edges of the world folded like wet paper. Gangle screamed first. “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” She collapsed, her masks crashing together, cracks spreading like open veins. Zooble kicked the air, their body tearing apart and reforming violently. “THIS IS A PRISON!” they screamed. “A CUTE LITTLE PRISON SO WE DON’T GO INSANE! AND IT'S NOT WORKING!!!” Ragatha was openly sobbing now, trying to hold everyone together, and failing to even hold herself. “Please… please… we need to breathe…” Jax spun around. “BREATHE WHAT?!” he shouted. “DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT HE SAID?!” He pointed violently at Kinger, then at the empty space where they used to hold funerals. “Ribbit. Kaufmo. All the others,” his voice broke. “Everyone who’s gone. Everyone who… broke!! ITS ALL HIS FAULT!!” The circus shook harder.

“WHY ARE THEY IN THE BASEMENT?! IF THEY’RE HUMANITY TOO?! WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?!” Jax roared at Caine The word “basement” echoed like a forbidden term. Caine stepped back. “Because…because their fragments still exist.” he swallowed Silence. Too heavy. “What…?” Pomni murmured. “Abstraction isn’t erasure,” Caine said quickly, as if afraid of being interrupted. “It’s… extreme fragmentation. They’re still there. Pieces. Echoes. Data. I need to preserve humanity.” Zooble laughed hysterically. “YOU KEEP OUR REMAINS IN A BOX?! LIKE... DEAD BODIES?!” “I keep hope,” Caine replied, trembling. “They are humanity too. I believe that… maybe… there’s a solution... Someday...” “SOLUTION?!” Jax exploded. “FOR WHAT?! TO MAKE US SUFFER MORE IN THIS SHITHOLE?! THEY ARE LUCKY RIGHT NOW!!!”

The ground split with cracks of light. The sky turned red. There was no censoring his swearing anymore. Ragatha dropped to her knees. “Everyone’s going to abstract…” she whispered. “Everyone’s going to…” “NO!” Caine screamed, arms wide. “PLEASE! DON’T BE ALONE! NOT NOW!” Voices overlapped. Zooble cursed. Gangle cried. Ragatha begged. Jax laughed and screamed at the same time. And Pomni… Pomni thought.

She thought too fast, without stopping. Until it hurt. If we keep going like this… it ends here. Now. She felt her own form waver, and that snapped her back. “SHUT UP!” Pomni screamed. The sound cut through everything. Even the circus seemed to stop.

She was shaking. Eyes wide. Voice broken, but firm. “ALL OF YOU!” she pointed, spinning in place. “THIS ISN’T THE END! NOT YET!” “Pomni…” Ragatha tried. “NO! LISTEN!” Pomni turned on her. “IF WE KEEP SCREAMING, HATING, ISOLATING, THEN IT REALLY ENDS!” She took a gasping breath. “We just found out we lost EVERYTHING,” she said. “THAT DOESN’T MEAN WE HAVE TO LOSE OURSELVES TOO!” Jax scoffed. “Easy to say--” “IT ISN’T EASY!” Pomni stepped toward him. “AND YOU KNOW THAT!!” The hit landed. Jax went silent. “No one makes decisions right now,” Pomni continued, voice shaking but firm. “No one stays alone. No one. We think. Calmly. One step at a time.” She looked around. “We’re still here. Together.” The circus began to stabilize, not completely, but enough.

One by one, they pulled away. Ragatha led Gangle and Zooble, still shaking. Jax turned without a word. “Jax.” Pomni started. “No,” he said quietly. “I need to… be alone.” And he left. Ignoring Pomni words.

The silence afterward was unbearable. Caine approached slowly. “You… saved them.” he said. Pomni didn’t answer. Kinger stepped closer too. “It was a logical decision. Reducing immediate risk.” Kinger said. Pomni suddenly turned. “Leave,” she said. They both froze. “What…?” Caine asked. “I told EVERYONE to think,” Pomni said, her voice heavy with anger and confusion. “That includes you two. Leave. Please.” Caine hesitated. “Pomni---” “PLEASE,” she repeated, softer. “That was too much. Just... let us think for ourselves for now.” They backed away.