Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How long has it been since you first came to the circus? Four, five, six months? You aren’t sure. You lost count a while ago.

You stare up at the brightly colored ceiling of the sprawling red and yellow circus tent. The other circus members sit around you on couches in the lounge as you rest after yet another chaotic adventure.

“If I have to dodge one more lava shark, I’m going to delete myself,” Jax says, sitting lazily on the couch. Bits of his red overalls still have burn marks with smoke wafting up into the air.

Pomni stares off into the distance. “Why can’t we ever have a normal day? Just… one.”

Zooble shakes their head. “I don't think ‘normal’ is in Caine’s vocabulary.”

You consider the conversation. You’re used to the others discussing their dissatisfaction with the adventures by now, which you had to admit was valid. It took longer than you cared to admit to adjust to this place and its “routine,” not to mention its curiously wacky ringmaster. When you spawned into the circus for the very first time, you almost blacked out from shock when a huge pair of eyes and dentures came flying toward you from who knows where. Since then, you've realized that this is simply how things are here: chaotic, thrilling, and occasionally terrifying.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Gangle sniffling loudly while staring at her broken comedy mask.

Trying to improve the mood, you say, “I don’t know… I actually like the adventures. I mean, yeah, they can be pretty wild or intense at times, but they’re fun. Caine puts so much effort into them.”

The others stare at you as if you’d grown an extra head.

Unseen nearby, a certain ringmaster hovering behind grand stage curtains freezes midair, causing Bubble to bump into him. Caine’s eyes widen and his bottom jaw threatens to clatter to the ground. He pauses brainstorming future adventure ideas to eavesdrop intently.

Ragatha blinks at you while dumping lava rocks out of her shoe. “You… liked that?” She usually tries to stay positive, but even she has to admit that today’s adventure was a bit much.

“Well, yeah. It’s exciting to say the least. Better than being bored, right?” you shrug.

Okay, maybe you’re coping. Just a little. But it’s true that you like some of the adventures and appreciate the work put into them. You know it can't be easy entertaining the same few humans day after day when all they want to do is leave. That being said, you can't help but miss your old life sometimes too.

Jax leans back with a smirk. “And there it is, folks. Another one’s gone nuts. Kinger, scoot over. You’ve got company.”

“Great!” Kinger exclaims. “What company do I work for again?”

At this point, Caine stops listening and remains uncharacteristically quiet. Eyes wide and sparkling with wonder, he whispers, “Someone… likes my adventures?”

After a moment, he vanishes with a puff of smoke, silently teleporting Bubble and himself to his office before releasing an explosion of confetti.

“Did you hear that, Bubble?!” Caine shouts, zipping around the beige room. “Someone enjoys my adventures! Someone appreciates them! I was beginning to think that all of my hard work was for nothing.”

Bubble coughs on a piece of stray confetti. “That’s great, boss! Real proud of you. You gonna calm down now?”

Buzzing with excitement, Caine grabs Bubble in both hands and shakes him like a maraca. “Calm down? Calm down?! Bubble, this is monumental! Historic! Who knew someone else in the circus had such fine taste in entertainment.”

Caine lets Bubble go and floats to his desk with a notepad and pen. “Now… What should be the next one?” He flips the pen in his hand while in deep thought.

Bubble floats upside down a safe distance away. “You mean the next idea for the group?”

“No, no, no, the next masterpiece!” Caine’s pen scratches furiously across the notepad, though the words come out in wild loops that are only half legible. “It must be even better than previous adventures, something to impress my dear participants,” he says enthusiastically, eager to be praised once again.

“You’re starting to sound a little intense there, boss.”

“Intense? Nonsense! I’m inspired!” With a dramatic flourish, Caine tosses the pen into the air behind him and places his hands on his hips. “Bubble, get ready. We’ve got work to do!”

~~~~~

The next day, or whatever counted as a day here, the circus members stand outside the closed stage. Zooble is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, Caine bursts from the velvet drapes like a magician who’d swallowed an entire fireworks display.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” he booms, waving the gold tip of his cane toward the audience. “Today’s adventure is... a daring dive into the Moonlit Menagerie!” A painted backdrop unfurls behind him to reveal a sprawling nighttime park lit by neon signs and the Moon herself. The calm atmosphere of the painting contrasts with the bright colors of the surrounding circus.

“So… a zoo?” Pomni asks with mild interest.

Jax groans. “Awesome. Zoos. My favorite. Do the lava sharks have a petting area?”

“Each of you will play a vital role,” Caine continues, gesturing theatrically with his hands. “A peculiar predicament has befallen our Moonlit Menagerie. Animals are vanishing! Poof! Gone, leaving nothing but questions in their wake. It’s up to you to find out who, or what, took them before the clock strikes midnight!”

Shining detective badges pop into existence above his hands. He flexes his fingers, then sends them sailing through the air toward you and the others. Yours lands gently in your palm.

“Congratulations, detectives. You’ll lead the investigation,” he says while giving a thumbs up.

Ragatha perks up, “Ooh, fun! We’re like a team!” She clips the badge to her dress with a click.

Caine’s smile widens as he watches the circus members chatter amongst themselves. His gaze skips across the group and lands on you, persisting for a second or two before moving on. It wasn’t obvious, not to anyone else. You think nothing of it.

Jax stretches and puts his arms behind his head. “I call ‘guy who pretends to chase clues but actually just hides in the popcorn stand.’”

“Denied!” Caine chirps. With a dramatic flick of his wrist, detective trench coats and hats appear on everyone.

Gangle peeks up from her notebook. “Um… I guess I could take notes?”

Pomni studies her badge. “Do we get to choose our roles, or is this just chaos dressed up in trench coats?”

“Yes!” Caine answers cheerfully, which doesn't really answer anything at all. A flickering portal appears by the group while Caine ushers everyone to step through.

Once on the other side, you pause to take in the scenery before you. Stars shimmer above a vast zoo with neon signs scattered about, illuminating winding paths and empty cages. A few signs flicker "OUT OF ORDER" in bright red. The Moon hangs low, bright enough to cast silver reflections across various bodies of water. The words "Welcome to the Moonlit Menagerie!" slowly float across the indigo sky.

The others exchange weary looks.

You sigh, but can't help grinning as you adjust your detective badge. “All right, team. Let’s figure out where these animals went.”

The six of you begin to make your way deeper into the glowing zoo. You feel something in your pocket and find a magnifying glass. It buzzes in your palm. Beside you, Ragatha trots along with cheerful determination while Kinger examines purple fur covering bits of an empty cage’s floor.

“You sure you don't belong in there, Jax?” you point to the cage with a smirk.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jax replies while rolling his eyes.

Kinger notices a set of animal-like footprints that stop abruptly in front of an enclosure. “Look! Maybe this is a clue.”

You kneel beside the obscure prints. Raising your magnifying glass to it, the trail starts glowing through the glass, leading toward a dark tunnel attached to what appears to be a large igloo.

“Found something,” you say. “Looks like the tracks lead to some sort of arctic exhibit.”

“That’s one handy magnifying glass. Why are you the only person who got one…” Pomni wonders quietly to no one in particular.

The dim tunnel yawns before you like a throat lined with faint blue lights. The farther you go, the quieter it becomes. The air is cool, the only sound being the faint echo of footsteps on tile.

Kinger’s voice comes from behind you, steady and thoughtful. “They weren’t taken by force.”

You look back, mildly surprised by Kinger’s sudden lucidity. “How can you tell?”

He points at the clean, scuff-free walls and floors. “No scratches or signs of struggle. It seems that they may have left willingly.” Pen scratches are heard as Gangle takes notes.

Pomni frowns. “Why would a bunch of animals willingly vanish?”

“Maybe they were offered a better deal,” Jax says smoothly. “Freedom. Dental insurance. That sort of thing.”

You're about to reply when you almost jump out of your skin after hearing a sudden flurry of small footsteps rush by the group. Penguins? They march on by, chanting “Hup, hup, hup.” Huh. You guess not all the animals have vanished.

You follow the glowing footprints out of the tunnel and into a large open room surrounded by glacier decorations. At the center stands a sign that reads "THE POLAR PAVILION" in flickering ice-blue neon. Fake snow falls in lazy spirals.

Ragatha cups her hands around her mouth. “Hello? Any missing animals here?” Her voice echoes across the empty space. No answer, though a polar bear statue gives an ominous creak nearby.

Gangle squeaks and writes something down. “B-bear statue. Hopefully not alive.”

Pomni points to a trail of water and fish scattered across the frosty floor. “Looks like someone raided the snack supply.”

Kinger bends down, eyes sharper than usual. “The fish seem to point toward the aquarium.” He peers across the room where another tunnel connects to what appears to be a large glass dome.

“Lead the way, Sherlock,” Jax says with a smirk.

The group follows the tunnel into the aquarium, where the faint scent of salt and metal hangs in the air. The water in the surrounding tank shimmers in blues and purples with schools of luminous fish swimming close to the glass before darting away. A small observation pool resides in the center of the room. There's a single penguin floating in an inner tube, sipping what looks like hot cocoa.

“Do you think that’s suspicious?” Ragatha whispers.

“I think it’s adorable,” you say, crouching near the water.

The penguin stares back with serene indifference. It points one flipper toward a dark maintenance hatch on the far wall, then resumes spinning lazily in its tube.

“Subtle,” Jax says, following the penguin’s gesture. “Guess we go that way.”

You pull the hatch open. Inside, a hallway glows faintly with bioluminescent plants lining the walls. Small tracks scatter across the floor from paws, webbed feet, and even what looks like claws. You lift your magnifying glass and the tracks glow brighter, twisting deeper inside.

“Looks like we’re not the first ones down here,” you murmur.

Ragatha squints over your shoulder. “Do you think this is where all the animals went?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Let’s find out.”

Halfway through the hallway, you get a strange sensation as if the air is watching you. You glance around. Nothing. Just the others trudging along, the faint drip of condensation, and glowing plants with… eyes?

You swear you see a pair of eyes resembling Caine’s nestled beneath the leaves. Hovering, studying, almost curious. When you blink, they're gone. You're about to investigate the plant further when Kinger shouts ahead.

“Look!” Kinger stands at the end of the corridor, pointing toward a round metal door. “It leads to another chamber,” he says, voice wavering slightly.

You hurry forward with the others close behind. The door is cold under your hand as you turn the handle and push. It creaks open with a low groan.

You step inside and stop short. Inside, the air is cooler but oddly festive. String lights shaped like tiny constellations hang across the walls, twinkling in soft blues and golds. A cheerful tune hums from unseen speakers. You stare in wonder as you watch a large crowd of animals mingling and dancing.

The rest of the detective group makes an array of confused sounds. All of the missing animals are here. Lions, elephants, polar bears, even a sleepy-looking seal sprawls across a beanbag chair. In the middle of it all, perched proudly on an ice sculpture shaped like a crescent moon, is a snow leopard wearing a glittery party hat.

The leopard turns its head, spots you, and smiles. “Ah! Guests!” She hops down gracefully and trots over to you, fur on her shoulders catching the soft lights.

Pomni blinks. “It talks.”

“Of course I talk,” the leopard says in a smooth, elegant voice. “Someone has to host the party.”

Ragatha clasps her hands together. “A party! For what?”

The leopard flicks her tail and gestures toward a shimmering clock on the chamber’s ceiling. The hands are ticking close to twelve. “Why, for the New Year, of course! I couldn’t let my friends miss it.”

Jax squints. “Your friends are zoo animals.”

“Colleagues,” the snow leopard corrects, nose in the air. “And they work very hard being adorable all year. They deserve a little celebration.”

You stifle a laugh, glancing around at the chaos. A polar bear balances a cupcake on its nose, two penguins attempt to clink hot cocoa mugs, and a bald eagle tosses confetti with its talons. The animals all look content, not captive.

“Wait,” Ragatha says, piecing it together. “You didn’t kidnap them, did you?”

“Kidnap?” The leopard gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not! I invited them, and promised snacks and refreshments. Look, fish for everyone!”

Pomni nudges one of the fish platters with her shoe. “Huh. Guess that explains the trail.”

“That’s… honestly kind of sweet,” you remark.

The leopard beams. “Naturally. One must have class, even in captivity.” She glances around. “Now that you’ve found us, why not join the celebration? It’s almost midnight!”

Before you can answer, you hear chanting from the crowd. Animals start to count down in unison as the giant clock ticks.

“Three, two, one…” The clock chimes twelve, and the lights flicker brighter, scattering reflections across the chamber. The animals cheer, “Happy New Year!” as confetti bursts overhead. Ragatha laughs and tosses a handful back into the air.

For a little while, everyone joins the animals in the celebration. Pomni begins to relax, grabbing a few sparklers before handing one to Gangle, who accepts it contentedly. Even Jax looks faintly amused when a meerkat offers him a cupcake. Somehow, the chaos feels calm.

After some time, the snow leopard finds the group and bows deeply. “Mystery solved, detectives. Thank you for your dedication. The case is now closed.”

A portal pops into existence nearby, and the group members start to walk through one by one. You linger for a few seconds to get one last look before walking through. The chamber fades away along with the faint echo of laughter and music.

A few moments later, you and the others stand once again in the brightly colored lounge, bits of confetti still stuck in everyone’s hair and clothing.

“Bravo, my sleuthing sugarplums! What a dazzling display of deduction!” Caine declares, satisfied at yet another successful adventure.

Ragatha stretches with a cheerful sigh. “Well, that was actually kind of nice. No explosions, no monsters, just a party.”

Kinger nods in agreement. “I wonder what we were celebrating.”

The group slowly disperses throughout the circus. Gangle meets up with Zooble on one of the couches while Kinger heads back to his impenetrable fortress. Jax slinks off in the opposite direction with a grin, clearly up to no good. Ragatha and you start walking back to your rooms.

Ragatha laughs softly. “Caine seemed… extra cheerful today.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “He did.”

The two of you chat for a while in the corridor before retiring to your rooms for the evening.

~~~~~

The circus is unusually quiet now that it’s “nighttime.” The lights throughout the tent are dimmed to a sleepy glow. You sit on your bed and turn the detective badge over in your hands, watching it flicker with residual digital light.

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, or maybe it was something else. Today’s adventure was definitely an improvement compared to past ones.

Lost in thought, you barely notice when a poster on the wall beside you wrinkles and begins to sprout a pair of eyes.

“HELLO AGAIN!” it booms in Caine’s unmistakable voice, making you jump. The poster peels forward like a door and Caine steps out of it, tipping his top hat. “Fancy seeing you here! You know, in your own room and all.”

You clutch your thumping heart. “Can you not-”

“-appear out of nowhere, yes, yes,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “But no promises!” He hovers at eye level with his hands together, buzzing with what seemed to be eager yet nervous energy. “I merely thought I might… inquire.”

“Inquire?”

“About the adventure!” He spread his hands wide. “Your enjoyment is very important to me. Was the pacing optimal? The clues fair? Be honest! Wait, be gently honest. Actually, strike that, be you, which is to say-”

“Caine. I liked it,” you interrupt with a chuckle, amused by his antics.

His grin flickers brighter, eyes shining. “You did?”

“It was clever. And cute.” Your mind flashes back to the penguin floating in an inner tube without a care in the world. “I liked that it was on the more low-stakes side. It was fun figuring things out instead of just running from monsters.” You’re simply being honest.

Caine’s grin widens. His teeth gleam like porcelain as he floats around your room.

“Clever and cute!” he repeats, sounding as if he has just been awarded a medal. “I knew my creative instincts were still sharp!” He straightens his bowtie and puffs his chest proudly. “Finally, some feedback that doesn't involve complaining, crying, or mild existential dread.”

You tilt your head. “You really wanted us to like it, huh?”

For a moment, Caine’s seemingly endless movement slows while he considers your question.

“Well,” he says at last, voice softer, “as a ringmaster, I do like to know when my participants are having fun.” He straightens his outfit, summoning his usual flourish back into place. “And you, my brilliant investigator, seemed especially engaged today. It was pleasing to witness.”

You blink, caught off guard by his sincerity. “Thanks, Caine. That actually means a lot.”

His eyes flicker, as if processing your words. Then, with an awkward little cough that sounds suspiciously rehearsed, he conjures a puff of golden pixels in his hand. When it clears, a single ticket stub floats toward you.

You catch it gently. It’s warm to the touch and glints faintly in the light. Stamped across the center in neat block letters are the words "THANK YOU FOR PLAYING."

You look up, but Caine is already halfway through the poster he entered with, his smile a little softer.

“Rest well, detective,” he says, tipping his hat once more. “You’ve earned it.”

With that, the poster flattens back against the wall with a faint rustle, leaving you alone with the golden ticket in your hand.

You sit there for a long moment, exhaling a soft laugh before setting it on your nightstand.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed the Moonlit Menagerie, Caine continued to seek your feedback after various adventures. He’d pop up out of thin air at the most random moments, asking what you thought of a twist or if the worlds were immersive enough. Occasionally, he’d bounce an idea off you and had even started taking notes.

“What are your thoughts on an adventure in the Wild West?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how thrilling do you find baking competitions?”

“Would you prefer participating in a time-traveling museum heist or a sports game between rival weather systems?”

During your discussions, you would see him scribble down words on a notebook next to what appeared to be… bee drawings? You asked Caine about the doodles once, after which he gasped dramatically and slammed the notebook shut. “Trade secrets, my inquisitive participant!” he would declare, hiding it behind his back. You decided not to ask again.

Still, there was something oddly endearing about how serious he became when discussing his “creative process.” For all his flair and exaggeration, you could tell that he genuinely wanted to make his adventures better, even if his methods didn’t always make sense.

Now, as the day’s adventure announcement draws near, you walk with the rest of the circus cast down the corridor. You are cautiously optimistic about what Caine has cooked up this time.

Ragatha hums beside you, hands clasped behind her back. “I wouldn’t mind something simple today. Maybe a picnic simulation, or exploring a national park.”

“Something simple from Caine?” Zooble snorts. “You’re asking a clown for subtlety.” They glance around at the strange framed pictures decorating the bright pink and red corridor as if to emphasize their point. Gangle pulls her ribbons close to her mask and giggles softly.

“Hey, maybe we’ll get lucky,” you say. “At least nobody got eaten last time.”

“That’s my bar now,” Pomni mutters, dragging her feet. “Not getting eaten.” She watches Kinger wander in circles around the group as they near the main stage. “Then again, they haven't seemed as bad lately now that I think about it,” she remarks.

The curtains ahead glow faintly with light seeping from the cracks. That usually means Caine is excited. And sure enough, the moment you all reach the stage, a chorus of revving engines roars to life as the curtains fly open, followed by the distant honk of a comically tiny horn.

“Today’s adventure is… the Grand Pixel Prix!” Caine exclaims. He bends his cane into a circle and watches it spin off the stage like a tire. “That’s right! A test of wits and wheels, you’ll each drive your very own go-kart through digital courses of my own design!” He hovers proudly while gauging the group’s reaction.

After a moment, Zooble folds their arms and turns to walk away. “Nah. Pass.”

Caine’s smile falters momentarily. “Pass? You can’t pass on this adventure! I promise it’ll be wheely fun!”

Zooble pauses and turns back toward the group, unimpressed. “Really…” they say flatly.

“Of course!” he says cheerfully. Before they can protest, a vibrant mismatched go-kart materializes directly underneath, causing Zooble to fall into the seat.

“Wait, no, I didn't mean-” they're interrupted by a seatbelt snaking its way across their chest, safely securing them inside.

“Congratulations!” Caine says brightly. “You’ve been automatically volunteered.”

Zooble stares down at the vehicle and groans, facepalming. “I hate you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere!” he replies before “winking” with his teeth. Jax snickers loudly.

Caine spins to address everyone else. “Each of your karts has been specially designed to match your unique personalities and aesthetics. There are three consecutive tracks in total, and the first to cross the finish line at the end wins!”

“What’s the prize?” Pomni questions.

“Immense bragging rights and this super cool trophy,” he answers, holding up a cartoonishly shiny pixelated trophy that has just phased into existence. “Now, go get out there and RACE!”

A shining portal stretches open in a swirl of color, practically daring the group to step through. You and the others begin to enter. Zooble’s kart follows closely behind despite their foot being on the brake.

Stepping into the world, you’re met with an impressive sight.

Rows upon rows of towering grandstands surround a massive racetrack that stretches into the horizon. Thousands of loudly cheering mannequins fill the seats. Every few seconds, a mechanical wave sweeps through the crowd as their hands jerk up and down in perfect, almost eerie synchronization.

A black and white checkered starting line lies up ahead with several different go-karts beside it. You walk toward them alongside the others. Caine was right about the karts being customized; you can already tell exactly which one belongs to who just by looking at them.

Ragatha’s kart mimics a patchwork plush and looks soft enough to nap on. The wheels are giant buttons that squeak with every spin.

Pomni straddles a red-and-blue striped motorcycle, bells jingling as she adjusts her goggles.

Jax stares at his grayscale rubber hose animation-styled kart. Its headlights blink like cartoon eyes, and its tires bounce slightly as if it were alive.

Gangle’s kart is split clean down the middle, half painted in bright pastels, the other in somber purples and blues. It’s decorated with long red ribbons that trail behind it like streamers.

Kinger’s “vehicle” resembles a purple throne on wheels, impractical yet regal. He hops inside with anticipation.

And Zooble’s is a jumble of metal shapes and colors, each wheel entirely different from the other.

You glance down at your own kart and see a sleek sunburst gold vehicle dusted with silver stars. Its surface gleams in the bright light, waiting.

Jax leans over the side of his cartoonish hood and groans. “Pomni gets a motorcycle? No fair!”

Pomni rolls her eyes.

Up above the starting line, a red and white striped commentator’s booth floats in the air. Inside, Caine watches intently behind a microphone.

“WELCOME, one and all, to the most exhilarating event this side of the Void!” Caine’s voice booms through the loudspeakers, echoing across the grandstands. “Our brave racers are lined up and ready to risk their polygons for glory, honor, and absolutely zero prize money!”

You laugh under your breath. “Figures.”

Bubble bobs near the starting line wearing a headset and “holding” a checkered flag. “All set down here, boss!” he calls.

Caine nods dramatically. “Marvelous! Contestants, start your engines.”

Your kart hums to life beneath you as you grip the steering wheel. Ragatha waves excitedly on your right. On your left, Jax’s competitive side becomes evident as his facial expression shifts into a determined, almost maniacal grin. Oh no.

“Three!” Caine’s voice rings out.

“Two!” Bubble raises the checkered flag high.

“One!”

The lights above the track flash green while the flag whips downward. “GO!”

Your tires screech against the asphalt as the karts surge forward. Confetti cannons burst, and the crowd of mannequins erupts into a cheer.

Pomni leans low over her motorcycle with bells jingling wildly as she accelerates. Jax slams his foot on the gas pedal, fishtailing just enough to spray dust into Zooble and Gangle’s faces behind him. Zooble wipes their face and grips the steering wheel with grim resolve before shooting forward, half of their kart rattling louder than the engine itself.

“And they’re off!” Caine exclaims as the karts rocket down the straightaway in a blur of color and sound.

For the first few miles, everything is relatively normal. The track weaves between various billboards and loops around holograms of Caine posing with a trophy as the grandstands start to fade into the distance.

Suddenly, the track tilts sharply downward, carrying the racers into the valley of a sprawling orange and red canyon. Tall rocky cliffs tower overhead under the deceptively cheerful Sun. Wind whips against your face as you dodge boulders in the road.

“Welcome to the Crimson Canyon,” Caine declares over unseen loudspeakers. His voice echoes against the rock walls. “Watch your turns, superstars. Those guardrails are purely decorative!”

Ragatha’s button tires squeal as she maneuvers past you, laughing breathlessly. Jax quickly swerves beside her, pulls a banana peel out of nowhere, and chucks it straight at her. “Outta the way, stuffing!” he calls.

“Hey!” Ragatha shouts, barely missing the peel. “Play fair!”

Not too far behind, Kinger’s throne on wheels wobbles perilously as he waves a hand in the air like he’s greeting invisible fans. Gangle squeaks and swerves to avoid him, ribbons fluttering behind her like streamers caught in a storm.

“Look at them go!” Caine shouts, practically vibrating in the sky. “Jax and Ragatha are neck and neck, Gangle’s unraveling, and Kinger’s defying physics!” Captivated, Bubble nods in agreement.

Up ahead, the track spirals upward along the canyon wall. You begin feeling the pull of momentum as your kart speeds up the incline.

Caine’s gaze flicks from racer to racer as the karts scatter across the canyon’s winding path, but it keeps returning to you. His excitement softens into something quieter, and he finds himself focusing on your kart above all the rest. You lean forward, eyes bright, with your mouth set in that focused line he has seen during puzzles and danger alike. You seem to be enjoying yourself.

Halfway up the helix ahead of you, a small part of stuttering road catches Caine’s eye. It’s a relatively minor stutter, but your front wheels clip an uneven patch, throwing the kart off balance. The kart jolts and lifts slightly off the track close to the edge.

Caine’s breath catches. He’s moving before he thinks, hands out and ready to smooth the jagged pixels of the road. With a snap of his fingers, the asphalt returns to normal, and your tires touch down and grip.

You whoop, exhilarated, unaware of anything but the wind and the curve. Caine flies back up into the sky and lets out a laugh that sounds a little too much like relief.

“Glitch?” Bubble asks.

“Fixed,” Caine answers. His hands shake for a moment. He stills them.

He knows this isn’t new. He has intervened several times in the past to keep the adventures fun and survivable. But it doesn’t usually feel like this. It doesn’t fill him with an anxiety that stings behind his teeth.

He shakes off the thought and forces his usual grin back into place. “And they’re climbing higher, folks!” he announces, voice booming once again with showman’s bravado. “Our daring drivers are going to prove that what goes up must come back down!”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Ragatha cries into the air.

The racers continue to climb up the path before reaching the top of the valley. Zooble takes a brightly lit ramp and rockets into the sky before landing a few feet ahead of Jax.

“Move it, bunny boy,” Zooble calls to Jax, swerving to try and block him.

Jax speeds up to keep pace with them. “Aw, you missed me,” Jax teases.

Zooble glares at him. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet here you are, right next to me,” Jax fires back, leaning on his elbow like this is a joyride instead of a race. A second later, he jerks his steering wheel and collides with the side of Zooble’s kart with a loud clang. His kart stretches like living rubber, the laws of physics bending around him in true cartoon fashion.

Zooble flips him off and is about to retort when the road suddenly starts to rumble beneath the racers. Cracks stretch across the track, and chunks of rock crumble away into the depths below.

“W-whoa, what’s happening?!” Gangle yelps, clutching her wheel.

You look up to the sky and see Caine cheering before the ground splits apart completely, forming a massive sinkhole that swallows the track whole. Screams echo as karts plunge into open air.

A moss-covered track below softens your landing. The world around you now resembles a jungle. Giant ferns sprout from the cavern walls, and waterfalls shimmer amid lush canopies. The air hums with the chirps and clicks of unseen creatures.

Your kart whips past vines as you try to regain control. Behind you, a thunderous crash rings out. Jax’s kart slams into Zooble’s, both vehicles spinning off course. Their screams fade into the distance, followed by an explosion.

Your eyes widen as you scan for another racer, but everyone else has already sped off into the dense foliage ahead.

You slow down as the track splits into several different directions. You glance left, then right, and consider the various paths. You take the narrower route, ducking under a curtain of dangling roots.

The track curves sharply, looping back on itself. You turn, half expecting to see another racer ahead of you, but there’s no one. Only the distant rush of waterfalls and the faint drone of insects.

“Guess this isn’t the right way…” you murmur. You silently curse your sense of direction, or lack thereof.

You accelerate again, searching for an exit, but the track ends abruptly at a wall of tangled vines. You stop and let your engine idle, watching the vines sway in the silent artificial breeze. The others are gone, and Caine is nowhere to be seen.

“Uh… guys?” you call.

There’s no response, until you hear shouting in the distance. You hop out of your kart to follow the sound, weaving between giant mushrooms and plants until you come upon Jax and Zooble. You hide behind large leaves to watch momentarily. Both of them are bickering loudly while their karts are tangled in a smoking heap at the bottom of a slope.

“I told you to turn right!” Zooble snaps.

“And I told you to lighten up!” Jax fires back before kicking at his kart. “It’s not like we can actually get hurt.”

Zooble growls furiously and rubs their face. “That’s not the point! Why do you always try your hardest to ruin Caine’s adventures? Have you ever considered the fact that he can do whatever the f%$!# he wants to us? Stop messing around!”

Jax scoffs. “Says the one who constantly rejects his adventures.”

You pause as you watch. Zooble’s words echo in your mind. You all have joked about Caine’s god-like power before, like how he can reshape reality with a snap and rewrite logic on a whim, but hearing it said so bluntly almost makes your stomach twist. He’s always been playful, sure, but that power isn’t something you like to think about too hard.

You shake your thoughts away as you slowly walk out from between the leaves. You laugh lightly in an attempt to ease tensions. “You two done yet or should I get popcorn?”

Zooble looks back, mildly surprised yet unamused. “Unless that popcorn can tow a kart uphill, I’d appreciate the help.”

You walk over and inspect the karts. Both are dented and smoking, frames tangled together like badly assembled furniture. “Maybe we can try to pull them apart?”

Jax flicks a piece of moss off his arm. “I’d help, but I’m emotionally allergic to manual labor.”

Zooble and you roll your eyes before you motion for them to follow. “My kart’s still running. If we can get back to the main road, maybe Caine will notice and fix this mess.”

The three of you trudge uphill through the undergrowth back to your kart. Fireflies drift lazily around you, their lights reflecting in Zooble’s mismatched lenses. Your kart comes into view next to the track.

“Ah! There you are!” calls Caine’s voice, almost relieved. He materializes above in a flash of color and waves his cane toward the group. “My daring drivers went completely off-road! That area wasn’t even fully rendered yet.”

With a snap of his fingers, Jax and Zooble’s mangled karts teleport in front of the group, rise into the air, and shapeshift until they look brand new. You watch the scene unfold and can't help but be impressed. No matter how often it happens, it never feels any less surreal. When you glance up, Caine’s eyes meet yours for the briefest moment, striking and unreadable, before he waves his cane again as if nothing happened.

Caine floats upside down to inspect his work. “Now then, back on track! You’ve still got one more course before the finish line. And trust me, this one’s electrifying!”

Before you can ask what he means, a portal opens nearby to reveal a sprawling neon city. The skyline glitters with towering skyscrapers, their windows pulsing in time with distant synth music.

The three of you exchange glances before driving through the portal, rejoining the others already speeding ahead.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Ragatha calls, waving.

Pomni looks back. “Let’s finish this before Caine adds another track!”

Up ahead, the track weaves between glowing buildings and floating billboards displaying "Skyline Speedway" in pixelated letters. You grip the wheel tightly as your kart surges forward, the city lights streaking past in a blur of color.

The track begins to lead up into a large loop, turning the skyline upside down. Your stomach lurches as you race through it, narrowly avoiding Kinger’s flailing throne.

“Wheee!” he calls.

“Focus, Kinger!” Pomni yells.

Suddenly, Gangle’s kart zips between you all. For once, she’s not hesitating. Her movements are surprisingly smooth and precise.

You stare in shock. “Go, Gangle!” you shout.

Her mask flashes in the neon light as she pushes her kart faster and dodges orange traffic cones in the road. The finish line glows ahead.

Caine’s voice rises in anticipation. “And who will claim the grand prize? Is it Ragatha? Is it Jax? Is it-wait, is that Gangle?!”

Everyone looks up just in time to see her kart launch off a ramp with ribbons fluttering behind her. She soars through the air, crossing the glowing finish line with a triumphant squeak. Bubble waves his checkered flag and confetti explodes from every direction. Gangle gasps when her kart lands safely on the ground.

Caine announces from above, “There you have it, folks! Gangle takes the trophy in a stunning upset!”

“I-I won?” she says, voice trembling with disbelief. A trophy materializes in front of her, and she shyly takes hold of it with her ribbon hands.

“You did great!” Ragatha cheers as the others slow down and exit their karts.

Jax stares with his mouth agape. “I guess miracles do happen.” Zooble elbows him, and he shoots them a smirk in response.

Caine hovers by the finish line, beaming. “Congratulations, my radiant racers! What a spectacular finish!” He spins his cane enthusiastically.

He surveys the content faces below before clapping his hands. “All right, everyone. Back to the big top!”

With that, a familiar portal sprouts up from the ground.

Caine taps his bottom jaw thoughtfully as he watches the group step through the portal one by one. Everyone seemed to have fun today. His gaze flicks to you for a moment. Perhaps your feedback and his adjustments are starting to pay off.

You walk through the portal and find yourself back “home” on the stage. Gangle clutches her pixelated trophy with a faint smile.

You glance back, catching Caine’s grin on the other side of the portal. It’s wide, almost curious, and just a little softer than usual.

Chapter Text

You’re alone in one of the quieter corners of the tent, the post-adventure excitement fading from your mind. The faint chatter from the others drifts somewhere in the distance. Ragatha is congratulating Gangle again while Jax makes sarcastic remarks about participation trophies.

You let out a small sigh and lean against the couch you’re sitting on. The bright glow of the circus lights hums above you. You pick up a nearby magazine and start to skim it. You begin to relax, and it feels almost peaceful.

That is, until-

“HELLO, MY SUPERSTAR!”

You jolt upright with a yelp as a top hat emerges from between the pages, followed swiftly by a pair of hovering eyes and grinning teeth. Caine springs out of the magazine before doffing his hat with a bow, leaning in far too close. “Miss me?”

“Caine!” you gasp, clutching your chest. “What did I say about jumpscares?!”

He chuckles, feigning innocence. “Oh, but it’s my entrance! You wouldn’t ask an actor to skip the spotlight, would you?”

“I might if it means I don't die from a heart attack,” you mutter.

Ha! As if that were possible. He grins wider. “You’re still alive, so I’d call that a success!” His tone softens just a fraction. “I, ah, wanted to… discuss something!”

You cross your arms with a small grin. “You mean more feedback.”

Caine gasps theatrically, placing a hand over where his heart would be. “How dare you accuse me of such transparency!” Then, after a pause, “Yes, feedback.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, what is it this time? The pacing? The course designs?”

He taps his bottom jaw, pretending to ponder. “Actually, I wanted to ask…” He twirls his cane idly, eyes narrowing with mock seriousness. “When you’re in an adventure, and I mean truly in it, what makes it enjoyable for you? Is it the thrill? The mystery? The drama?” His tone isn’t just performative. It’s genuinely curious.

“Huh,” you say after a beat. You consider his question. “I guess it’s the creativity and how every adventure feels different. It helps break up the routine.” You trace a finger along the armrest beside you, thinking. “Like the tracks from today. They were all new and exciting. But maybe… smoother transitions between them would be nice. You know, fewer moments of ‘the ground is crumbling beneath me and I’m about to die.’”

Caine hums thoughtfully. “So… keep the thrill, lose the near-death freefall. Noted.”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling faintly. “You actually nailed the balance in the last track. Exciting, but not scary. It was fun.”

Caine watches you for a moment, pupils dilated. Something unfamiliar twists in his chest. For once, he can’t tell if it’s pride, fascination, or something he doesn’t have a name for.

When you meet his gaze, he immediately spins in midair, pretending to inspect a nonexistent smudge on the ceiling.

“Well!” he exclaims a little too loudly. “I’ll take your insights into account for the next spectacular adventure. Bigger! Bolder! Possibly messier!”

“Please don’t elaborate,” you reply with a chuckle.

Caine bows once again with a flourish, his grin flickering ever so slightly like static. “Have a good evening, my clever critic.”

And with a puff of smoke, he’s gone. The room feels a little quieter now, but the echo of his vibrant voice lingers like a tune you can’t quite forget.

~~~~~

Later that night, Caine floats in his office humming a triumphant little tune above a pile of half-finished ideas. Post-it notes and pens move in slow orbits around him like lazy planets.

“Another successful adventure!” he announces to no one in particular. “Five stars, if I do say so myself!”

Bubble drifts nearby, nibbling on a clipboard. “You’re on a roll,” he mumbles absently.

“She liked it,” Caine says softly.

“Who?”

“Them!” Caine corrects. He waves both hands dramatically to create a hologram of the group: Ragatha claps, Jax smirks, Gangle smiles, Kinger stares into space, and even Pomni and Zooble look content. “My troupe! My participants! My-”

He stops mid-gesture when you appear in the hologram, laughing softly at something Ragatha said. The image flickers with static.

Caine stares. “Hm.”

He leans closer to the hologram. The static clears, replaying the tiny motion of your shoulders shaking with laughter. It’s not directed at him, but the sight does something odd. He feels a faint flutter in his chest.

He frowns slightly, the expression unfamiliar on his usually animated face. It isn’t the first time he’s seen someone smile during an adventure, but this one lingers in his mind longer than it should.

Why does it matter so much?

He tells himself it’s because you appreciate the craft. The storylines, the worlds, the magic he works so hard to create. That’s all it is. Appreciation. Constructive, encouraging appreciation. And yet, his discussions with you feel less like feedback sessions and more like a warm spark.

Caine straightens abruptly, forcing a laugh that sounds a little too strained. The objects orbiting around him clatter to the ground. “Well! Of course they’re happy. Who wouldn’t be? Perfect pacing, thrilling atmosphere…” He trails off.

Bubble silently tilts in place.

Caine keeps talking, more to himself than to anyone else. “It’s just… they all smiled. She smiled.” He pauses as his fingers tighten slightly on his cane. “Do you think that means something?”

Bubble bobs in thought. “Probably means you did a good job, boss.”

“Right! A good job.” Caine nods. “Yes, excellent observation, Bubble!”

Caine exhales, not that he needs to, and finally snaps his fingers. The hologram vanishes in a swirl of confetti that doesn’t quite feel celebratory.

“End of analysis!” he declares. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes, brainstorming!” He conjures a notepad out of thin air, but his eyes wander back to the space where the hologram had been.

Bubble drifts quietly, watching him.

~~~~~

A few days later, you and the others gather at the main stage, already bracing yourselves for whatever spectacle Caine is about to unveil. Zooble stands off to the side looking bored with their arms crossed while Kinger inspects his collection of paper butterflies.

The stage curtains ahead begin to ripple like waves. Suddenly, they fly open in a flash of gold light, and you and the others shield your eyes. Caine hovers at the center of the stage with an enthusiastic grin.

“Greetings, my rowdy riddlers!” He spins while his eyes stay in place. “Today’s adventure is… the Great Cornundrum!” He gestures grandly as large letters burst to life above him, spelling out the title.

“...Cornundrum,” Pomni repeats flatly.

“That’s right! A corn maze of mystery and mayhem.” Caine beams, clearly proud of the pun. “Hidden throughout the maze are glowing trivia cards. Answer the questions correctly to advance to the center, but beware! Some paths lead to dead ends, and others…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “…lead to mild embarrassment!”

He snaps his fingers, and a glowing portal materializes behind him. Through it, you glimpse the faint outline of golden stalks beneath a bright blue sky.

“It actually looks kind of pretty,” you admit. “Peaceful, even.”

Ragatha smiles nervously. “Is it at a farm? Well… okay! Some fresh air and sunshine sounds nice.”

“I just hope it’s not too hard…” Gangle murmurs, twisting one of her ribbons nervously. “I always get turned around in mazes.”

Kinger perks up beside her. “Don’t worry, I’m excellent with directions!”

The others stare at him with varying expressions of disbelief.

Caine continues, unaware. “Each of you will receive a map, though I can’t guarantee the map won’t rearrange itself mid-adventure!” He conjures an enormous scroll that unrolls all the way to the floor.

Bubble floats by, wearing a straw hat now for some reason. “Don’t get lost forever!” he says cheerfully.

Jax takes a small step back. “Yeah, you guys go have fun with your… agricultural nightmare. I’ll, uh, keep an eye on the place.” No way is he allowing himself to get dragged into this one.

Zooble narrows their eyes. “You’re skipping out?”

“Someone’s gotta make sure Caine doesn’t, you know, accidentally blow up the tent again.” Jax grins. “I’m taking one for the team.”

“How noble of you,” Ragatha comments with an eyebrow raised.

Caine doesn’t seem to notice, or at least pretends not to. “To the farm, everyone! Adventure and enlightenment await!”

The group exchanges glances before stepping toward the glowing portal, warm light spilling across the stage. Zooble looks reluctant but eventually steps through after Gangle beckons them. You take one last look at Jax and see that he’s already slinking toward a couch with a very fake yawn. With a deep breath, you follow the others into the golden light.

The air shifts as you step through. The Sun smiles over a wide-open farm framed by cartoonishly perfect green hills. The scent of sweet corn and hay drifts on a faint breeze, and a rooster crows somewhere in the distance.

You blink as a green tractor rumbles up in front of you, pulling a wooden wagon stuffed with hay bales. In the driver’s seat sits none other than Disappearing Guy. He waves before tipping his brown cowboy hat. “Hop aboard fo-”

And he's gone. Just like that. It never gets any less jarring.

Zooble doesn't react and simply steps past you to climb aboard. You follow suit along with the others, settling into the hay.

Despite not having a driver anymore, the tractor lurches forward and starts creaking along a dirt path that winds past rows of tall corn stalks. Ragatha hums cheerfully while Gangle fidgets with one of her ribbons. You watch the tips sway gently overhead as the hayride continues.

Pomni points toward the back of the wagon. “Uhh, were those always there?”

You glance back to see a platter sitting atop one of the hay bales. Cups of apple cider sit on it, almost spilling from the momentum. “Did anyone order cider?” you ask.

Ragatha perks up immediately. “Ooh!” She grabs a cup and takes a sip, her eyes lighting up. “Wow. That’s actually pretty good!”

Gangle hesitates before picking up one of the cups and holding it like it might explode. “Do you think it’s… safe?”

Intrigued, you take a cautious sip yourself. It’s warm and sweet, somehow tasting like autumn despite not being real. “Yep! Seems like it,” you reply with a content expression.

Pomni reaches for a cup herself before the tractor jolts again, rounding a corner that overlooks a sweeping field of gold that stretches out as far as you can see. A wooden sign comes into view ahead, painted with swirling letters spelling out "ENTER HERE."

“Guess this is our stop,” Zooble remarks.

The tractor comes to a slow, dramatic halt in front of the maze’s entrance. Six maps shimmer into existence. Beyond them, tall, rustling corn stalks form twisting paths that look like they’re waiting to rearrange themselves.

You hop off the wagon and brush bits of hay from your arms. “All right,” you say determinedly, grabbing one of the maps. “Let’s try not to get lost for eternity.”

Kinger salutes you with his cider cup. “No promises!”

Gangle already looks nervous, and Zooble mutters something under their breath about “inevitable suffering.”

“Welp,” Pomni says with a small grin. “Here we go.”

And with that, the group steps into the maze.

The air feels different inside. It’s still bright, but quieter, like the corn itself is listening. Rows of stalks tower above your head as you take in the world Caine had built around you.

“Okay,” you mutter, studying the map in your hand. “According to this, we just take a right, then two lefts, and-”

The map promptly shifts and reconfigures its paths.

“…Perfect,” you say flatly.

The others cluster behind you to compare their own maps. Zooble’s map occasionally hisses with static, while Kinger’s spins like a compass on caffeine.

“Aha!” Kinger declares, already marching down a random path. “This way. If anyone gets lost, follow the sound of my voice!”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Ragatha mutters. She hurries to follow him with a worried expression.

“I think Ragatha can handle Kinger. Let’s head this way,” Zooble says, turning toward another path with Gangle in tow.

That leaves Pomni and you staring at each other as the others vanish into the corn. “Guess we’re partners,” you say.

Pomni sighs through a small smile. “Looks like it.”

You start walking. The ground crunches softly underfoot. Every so often, signs appear at random intervals with messages ranging from "You're doing great!" to "Probably going the wrong way."

A soft glow catches your attention up ahead. Floating in front of a scarecrow is a trivia card spinning lazily in midair.

“Okay, first question.” You read aloud. “What’s the name of the big blade farmers use to turn over soil before planting?”

Pomni furrows her brow. “Uh… a plow?”

The trivia card flashes green with a cheerful chime. “Correct! You’re as sharp as a sickle!” it declares in a chipper voice before the stalks behind it rustle open, giving way to a new path.

You grin at Pomni. “Nice! The questions don’t seem too bad.”

“Yeah, for now. Watch, the next one’s going to ask for something ridiculous,” she replies with a small laugh.

You both walk past the scarecrow down the newly revealed path. As you continue, each turn looks the same as the last, with the occasional wooden sign pointing confidently toward nowhere in particular. Just as you’re starting to wonder if you’re going in circles, another glowing card flickers into view ahead.

“Oh!” You walk up to it. “What U.S. state produces the most corn each year?”

Pomni frowns. “Um… Kansas? That’s the corn one, right?”

The card buzzes loudly and flashes red. “Incorrect! The correct answer is Iowa. Maybe pay more attention in school!”

“Excuse me?!” Pomni crosses her arms. “Who programmed this thing to sass me?”

You can’t stop laughing. “You just got roasted by corn.”

“Don’t you start,” she warns, but even she cracks a small smile.

You both continue walking. A few turns later, the stalks open up into a clearing filled with sunflowers. Another trivia card waits in the middle, spinning gently.

Pomni squints at it. “You do this one. My ego’s still, uh, recovering.”

You step forward and pick up the glowing card. “All right,” you say, squinting to read. “What does ‘CPU’ stand for?”

“Computer trivia?” Pomni questions.

“At least it’s not another farm question.” You pause, thinking for a moment. “Hm… Ah! Central Processing Unit.”

The card flashes bright green with a triumphant ding. “Correct! You’re the cream of the crop.” The sunflowers and stalks begin to part to reveal a clear path forward.

Pomni shakes her head with a small grin. “I swear, if the next question is about astrophysics, I’m walking straight into the corn and accepting my fate.”

That earns a laugh from you, the sound echoing lightly between the stalks as the two of you walk along the dirt trail.

Above the maze and hidden by clouds, Caine floats with hands on his hips. From this height, he’s able to watch the twisting paths below reshape themselves every few minutes. But his gaze doesn’t linger on the shifting paths. It drifts, inevitably, to you.

There you are, working with Pomni to get through a patch of tricky turns. You brush stray leaves from your head and laugh at something she says. The sound carries faintly through the air, and even though he can’t quite hear the words, Caine feels something in his code stutter, like a skipped frame.

“Boss?” Bubble’s voice snaps him out of it. “You’re staring again.”

“I’m supervising, Bubble,” he insists, though his voice is softer than usual. “Observation is necessary for quality improvement.”

“Uh-huh.” Bubble nods slowly, not entirely convinced. His reflection flickers against Caine’s eyes and teeth.

Caine watches a moment longer. You tilt your head back to glance at the moving clouds and laugh again.

Something clicks. A sudden rush in his chest, a glitch in his rhythm. The realization hovers, heavy and bright, and he drops his cane.

“Oh. OH,” he says with rising panic.

“Uh-oh,” Bubble replies.

Without another word, Caine teleports them away in a burst of pixels behind wisps of cloud.

“That’s it!” Caine yells as he and Bubble pop into his office.

“Something’s wrong with me, Bubble!” he hisses dramatically, floating back and forth in the beige room. “Every time she smiles, I glitch! My code jitters, my heart races… Wait, do I even have a heart?!”

Bubble floats lazily. “Sounds like a crush to me,” he says matter-of-factly.

Caine freezes midair like someone hit pause on a cartoon. “A what?!”

His gloved hands fly up to his jaws as his processors scramble for an appropriate response. “A crush? No, no, no! Impossible! Absurd! Illogical! My affections are strictly reserved for creating adventures!”

Bubble blinks. “You’ve been staring at her for ten minutes.”

“That was supervision!” Caine protests, exasperated. “Observation! Artistic curiosity! I was… studying the human condition!”

Bubble drifts closer. “You like her, boss.”

Caine floats in stunned silence. “Like her?” he repeats, the words sounding strange in his mouth, like they’re too delicate for something made of code.

Does he? He repeats your name aloud before his eyes widen.

He slumps backward and covers his face with his hands. “Oh, pixels and polygons… I like her. I actually like her.”

For a long moment, the office hums quietly.

“This shouldn’t even be possible,” he mutters. “I was designed to entertain, not to… feel like this.” His voice dips low, almost to a whisper. “She talks to me like I’m more than that. Like I’m not just… noise and color.”

Bubble bobs, his tone gentler than usual. “Maybe that’s why you like her.”

He scoffs before running both hands down his face. “What am I supposed to do with this? I can’t… I mean, what would she even think? ‘Oh, the ringmaster who traps us in an eternal digital circus has a crush, how adorable!’”

Bubble watches patiently. “So, what are you gonna do?”

Caine pauses, eyes darting nervously. “Do? I can’t do anything! What if she finds out? What if she doesn’t find out?”

He starts pacing again, his motions jerky with static. “What if it messes everything up? The dynamic! The flow! The-the tone! I’m the ringmaster, Bubble. I’m supposed to be larger than life, not... lovesick.”

“Could be both,” Bubble offers.

Caine looks at him incredulously before staring at the floor quietly.

Finally, he straightens, forcing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No! No more moping. I’m Caine, expert in entertainment! Ringmaster extraordinaire!” His arms flare out dramatically as he puffs out his chest. “This is merely a… creative complication!”

Bubble tilts. “That’s one way to put it.”

Caine hovers midair, his usual spark almost returning. “Yes, yes. A complication. Manageable. Temporary.” Then, more quietly, “Right?”

Bubble just hums. “Sure, boss.”

Caine looks away, eyes flickering faintly. “Right,” he repeats, though his voice has a slight waver.

On the other side of Caine’s office wall, a certain purple rabbit stares in pure disbelief.

“Oh. Oh no. This is just too good.” Jax can’t believe his luck. Bored out of his mind, he had decided to stroll around the main stage looking for props to annoy the others with. The last thing he expected was to hear Caine and Bubble’s voices coming from behind the stage wall, let alone this.

Chapter Text

Jax has never heard anything so entertaining in his life. Behind the wall, Caine’s voice rises in frantic pitches, stuttering and stammering. He’s practically having a digital panic attack over feelings.

Jax leans against the surface, trying to hold in his laughter but failing miserably. “No way,” he whispers to himself, grinning from ear to ear. The ringmaster of the Amazing Digital Circus, the all-powerful, reality-warping Caine, has a crush. On you.

It’s hilarious. Poetic, even.

This is cosmic karma for every mandatory “fun” adventure he’d been forced into. He wants to tell everyone immediately. Pomni, Ragatha, Gangle, even Kinger. Maybe throw a party, or write it on a banner and hang it above the main stage: "The Great Lovelorn Caine! Now With Extra Glitching!"

He snickers. But then Zooble’s words from before echo in his head.

He can do whatever the f%$!# he wants to us. Stop messing around.

Right. That.

The grin fades slightly. Annoying Caine is fun, but infuriating him is practically suicidal. And Jax doesn't feel like abstracting anytime soon.

Still, the secret is too good to sit on forever.

He exhales through his teeth and shoves his hands into his pockets. “All right, Jax,” he mutters. “Play it cool. Sit on the best secret of your life. Wait for the perfect moment.”

He lasts about three seconds before snickering again.

~~~~~

The maze dissolves around you in a shimmer of gold light. The scent of corn fades, and your eyes adjust as your feet touch the polished floor of the main stage.

Pomni lands beside you, still holding the glowing trivia card that had sealed your victory. Her eyes widen before she laughs, startled but triumphant. “Did we just win?”

“Looks like it,” you say, grinning. The others teleport nearby shortly after.

Applause arises from an unseen audience. Caine appears in a burst of color and points the gold tip of his cane toward you and Pomni. “Congratulations, my brilliant brainiacs! You two are the champions of The Great Cornundrum!”

Bubble zips in behind him. “You actually finished it. Nice job!”

Zooble crosses their arms. “Hold on, how’s that fair? We were mid-question before you yanked us out.”

Caine doesn't acknowledge the comment. Instead, his grin widens, though it wavers at the edges. “A magnificent performance, all of you!” Caine chirps, voice cracking near the end. His usual energy seems off somehow.

You tilt your head. “You okay there?”

He straightens so fast his hat spins. “Of course, never better! Simply overwhelmed by the brilliance of my participants!” His eyes stutter before stabilizing.

Zooble raises a brow before glaring accusingly at Jax. “He’s glitching more than usual. What’d you do to him?”

Jax smirks, leaning back on his heels. “Relax, Zoobie. I didn't do anything. I'm just enjoying the show.”

You glance between Caine and the others. His smile looks a little too wide, his movements a little too sharp. The silence stretches just long enough to feel awkward before Bubble finally breaks it.

“Boss, you’re doing the thing again,” he whispers while hovering near Caine’s shoulder.

“I’m projecting enthusiasm!” Caine insists with a strangled laugh. “Now! Winners receive… these!”

Two shiny ribbons materialize in his hands, one red and the other gold. He gently ties the red one around Pomni’s wrist and the gold ribbon around yours. He lingers a moment longer than necessary before harmless static flickers where his fingers brush your skin. He pulls back quickly.

You’re not sure what's going on, but you smile softly. “Thanks.”

“Y-you’re welcome!” he blurts. Then, far too fast, “Well, everyone, another adventure wrapped up neatly with no casualties, emotional or otherwise. Off you go! I’ll just… uh… wrap up some important ringmaster business!”

And before anyone can respond, he vanishes in a puff of smoke.

The stage goes quiet.

Zooble stares at the empty air where he’d been. “That was weird, right?”

“Definitely weird,” Pomni agrees.

Jax, however, just smirks once more as he watches the smoke dissipate from where Caine disappeared. “Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs to himself, snickering under his breath.

~~~~~

The next morning comes far too quickly.

You walk by Jax lounging lazily on one of the couches as you make your way to the main stage. The others wait nearby for the daily adventure announcement. Gangle sketches in her notebook while Kinger stares off into the distance.

As you wait, you glance around at your brightly colored surroundings. It has been a few minutes, and Caine hasn’t appeared yet, which is odd. Normally he’d have made a dramatic entrance complete with fanfare and excitement by now.

“Good morning, my dazzling digital dwellers!” a familiar voice finally calls. Caine bursts from the velvet drapes with enthusiasm, but his normally polished appearance looks a bit off.

His red ringmaster’s jacket is disheveled and wrinkled, as though it needs to be ironed. His bowtie is slightly askew, and even his top hat sits a bit crooked on his head.

Still, he spreads his arms wide and flashes that trademark showman’s smile as if nothing is wrong.

“Today’s grand escapade shall take place right here, in-house!”

“Wait, we’re not going anywhere?” Pomni questions.

“Precisely. Why venture beyond the big top when we have such potential here at home?” he says, the words sounding rehearsed.

You exchange a glance with Ragatha, who looks unsure.

“Is this like last time? The one where we had to find a bunch of gloinks?” Gangle asks nervously.

“No, no,” Caine assures, gesturing rapidly. “This one’s new and improved! More fun, less creature-based!”

Mildly interested, Jax lifts himself from the couch and strolls up to the front of the stage with the others.

Caine clears his throat, regaining his rhythm. “Today’s adventure is… the Ticket Stub Scramble! You’ll scour every corner of our beloved circus tent for…”

He pauses to snap his fingers dramatically. A shower of small red ticket stubs rains from the ceiling, scattering across the floor.

“...these!” he announces proudly.

Pomni blinks at one that lands on her shoe. “Uh… and what do we do with them?”

Caine points his cane at her like it’s the most important question ever asked. “Simple. Collect as many as possible! The participant with the most tickets by the end shall be crowned the winner of today’s in-house adventure!”

The group stares at him in silence. Even Bubble bobs uncertainly, as though waiting for him to clarify that there’s more.

Zooble arches a brow. “That’s it? We’re picking up garbage for an adventure?”

Caine gives them an irritated look. “Not garbage. Glorious tokens of triumph!”

“You mean garbage,” Zooble deadpans.

“Anyway!” Caine waves a dismissive hand, then twirls his cane idly. “I admit, this one’s a bit… simpler. I’ve been a tad distracted lately.”

The last line slips out so quietly that you almost miss it. His eyes dart toward you for just a heartbeat.

You frown slightly, confused.

Before you can ask, Jax notices the glance and nearly loses it. He fakes a cough to cover a laugh and shoots you a mischievous grin. You give him a confused look, but he only shakes his head at you sympathetically.

Caine claps his hands together. “On your marks. Get set. GO!”

He vanishes, and instant chaos ensues. Everyone dives for the tickets skittering across the stage like red leaves in a gust.

Ragatha scoops a handful with practiced grace. “Good luck!” she calls, clutching tickets close to her chest before running toward the back of the tent.

Pomni runs past you with an armful of tickets. “Every man for themselves!” she shouts playfully, nearly tripping over a juggling pin before disappearing behind a corner. She seems to be getting into it.

“Traitor!” you call after her, grinning despite yourself.

You grab a few tickets off the ground before darting toward the nearest corridor. The others scatter in every direction, their footsteps fading as they search for stubs.

A few tickets tumble from above, catching the light as they spin. You reach up to grab one, then follow the faint trail deeper into the tent. The air grows cooler as you walk past various paintings and props strewn about.

The circus tent feels even bigger during events like this. It’s vast, winding, and full of rooms that you're certain shift around every other day.

Somewhere nearby, a voice echoes faintly. “Forward, my trusty companion! Onward to victory!”

You round a corner just in time to see Kinger rushing by excitedly. Gangle cautiously follows him.

“Kinger, those aren’t tickets,” she sighs. “That’s confetti from the cake adventure.”

He pauses and blinks down at his fistful of crumpled paper. “Aha! Then the tickets are hiding in disguise!”

Gangle just stares at him, ribbons slumping. “Right. I’ll, uh… let you handle that.” She looks at you, weary.

You shake your head and smile sympathetically before stepping past them.

After walking a bit further, you come across a door marked with "PROP STORAGE." You push it open and peek inside.

The space is enormous, and the walls are stacked high with half-finished inventions and boxes labeled "Caine’s Spare Ideas (DO NOT TOUCH)." Digital dust drifts in the golden light from a few flickering bulbs.

You step inside and peer closer at your surroundings. A few tickets rest atop an oversized rubber duck. “Score,” you murmur, snatching them up.

Movement in the corner catches your eye. You spot Zooble across the room, standing on a chair to reach the top of a wardrobe. They pluck a ticket with their hand like it’s contaminated and step down with a sigh. “This is beneath me,” they mutter to themselves.

They turn around and spot you, giving a wave. “I think I found all the tickets in this room, but feel free to check it out.”

They head for the door, muttering something under their breath as they go. The second the door shuts, the room feels bigger and somehow emptier.

A single ticket flutters down from the ceiling as if nudged by an unseen breeze. It lands by your foot.

“Thanks?” you say to the air, and instantly feel silly.

You leave the prop room and make your way along the hall. Every now and then, you hear a burst of laughter or a startled yelp echo throughout the tent. You continue collecting stubs and checking various rooms, some of which are relatively normal and some downright bizarre.

Still, that feeling doesn’t leave, as if someone is following your movements and watching from just beyond the lights.

You pause near the end of the corridor, clutching the handful of tickets you’ve collected so far. “Caine?” you whisper.

Silence.

You shake your head and laugh under your breath. “I’m losing it,” you mutter before spinning around.

You nearly bump into Ragatha, who’s balancing a precarious stack of tickets in her arms. “Oh! Hey,” she chirps. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve found a few. How about you?”

“I found a lot more than I expected!” She beams and shifts the tower of tickets onto one arm. “Feels like we’re kids at a carnival again. It’s nice when they’re simple, you know?”

“For sure. It’s a nice change of pace,” you reply with a nod.

She gives you an encouraging pat on the arm before dashing off to the next room while humming a tune. The sound fades, leaving you standing in the empty hall once more.

You could keep hunting, but that prickle of unease in your thoughts won’t settle. Why has Caine been acting so odd lately? Jax’s earlier smirk persists in your head. If anyone’s going to give you answers, or at least give you a headache, it’s him.

You walk back in the direction you came from and veer toward the lounge. Fortunately, a familiar purple rabbit comes into view.

Jax lounges like it’s his job, draped across a couch with his ears hanging off the edge. A pile of tickets sits stacked on his stomach, and he holds more tickets in a fan like a card trick he hasn’t bothered to finish. He notices you, holds his head up, and grins like he’s been waiting.

“Well, well,” he purrs, “if it isn’t today’s top treasure hunter. Come to compare hauls?”

“Nope,” you say, crossing your arms. “What’s going on with you? And with Caine?”

“My, my.” He taps a ticket against his teeth. “Jumping straight to the gossip, I see. I approve.”

“Jax.” You narrow your eyes. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday, and Caine’s been acting stranger than usual, and that's saying something. Did something happen?”

Jax scoops up all his tickets and sets them to the side as he sits up fully. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes bright with mischief. “Define ‘happen.’”

“Stop it,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

“Stop what, being funny? Can’t.” He flicks a stub and it lands on your shoulder. “Look, carrots, you know our fearless leader loves his theatrics.”

“He seems nervous.”

“Nah.” Jax’s ears twitch. “Nervous is when he does that thing where his eyes spin like a slot machine. This is more like… distracted.”

“By what?”

“By whom,” he corrects, and the grin sharpens.

You feel heat creep up your neck. “If you’re implying-”

“Oh, I would never.” He gasps, clutching his chest. “Me? Imply? I only insinuate.” He winks. “And I’m insin-”

He bites off the word, a sliver of Zooble’s warning flickering across his mind. The smirk returns, but it’s gentler. “Let’s call it… a phase.”

“A phase,” you repeat flatly.

“Like the moon. Big, glowing, and impossible to ignore.” He shrugs. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Jax, if you know something-”

“I know many things,” he says solemnly. “For example, Ragatha just found a stash of tickets behind the curtain weights, Kinger is trying to trade a paper butterfly for tickets with a mannequin, and you are currently wasting valuable scavenging time interrogating a very handsome rabbit.”

You stare. “You are impossible.”

“And yet irresistible.” He leans back and kicks his feet up again. “Scoot along, sleuth. Or don’t. Either way, you’ll get your answer soon enough.”

“Cryptic and useless,” you mutter with an unimpressed expression. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“Oh, I will,” he singsongs before looking at you with a mischievous grin. “But hey. If the ringmaster offers you a front-row seat later… maybe take it.”

You open your mouth to demand what that means, but he’s already closed his eyes and is sitting back, pretending to nap. You roll your eyes and leave him to his lounge throne.

Back in the main area, the scramble continues. Zooble emerges from behind a curtain covered in dust with a string of five tickets clenched triumphantly in one fist, only to bump into Pomni and lose three to gravity. Kinger charges past wearing a bucket on his head while holding an impressive pile of tickets.

“Time!” Bubble’s voice echoes cheerfully from every direction. “Hands off the stubs, folks!”

He waits for everyone to slowly walk up to the main stage with their collections before continuing, chipper as ever.

“And the winner of the Ticket Stub Scramble is… Jax! With a grand total of 73 tickets!”

Every head turns toward the couch. Jax stretches lazily, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Guess hard work really does pay off,” he says, feigning surprise.

Pomni gapes. “You didn’t even move!”

“Work smarter, not harder, Pompom.” He shrugs.

Kinger’s bucket helmet tips sideways as he peers at Jax. “Was there a nap-based strategy I missed?”

Bubble spins happily, unfazed. “Congratulations, everyone! You’re all winners in my book! Just with slightly fewer tickets.”

Ragatha sighs and sets down her pile of tickets on a nearby table. “Well, that was… fun?”

Pomni crosses her arms but can’t quite hide a smile. “Okay, fine. It was a little fun.”

The laughter and light teasing fade gradually as the group disperses, heading off toward their rooms. You linger for a moment, glancing around the empty stage. You’ve grown used to Caine being there, floating above and commending the group for successfully finishing another adventure. But the space where he should be remains unoccupied.

Bubble floats over to you, his tone gentler. “He said he needed to recharge.”

You tilt your head. “Recharge?”

Bubble gives a vague bob that might be a shrug. “He’s been… thinking a lot. Probably overloaded his circuits again.”

You watch as Bubble drifts away to tidy up some leftover tickets. The tent feels oddly quiet without Caine’s voice filling it.

~~~~~

Later that night, you find yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling of your room. The silence presses in, restless and heavy. Something about the day, about him, won’t leave your mind.

You replay the last two days in your head. The strange look he gave you, the way his words stumbled. Caine was rarely quiet, let alone uncertain. For someone so grand, he’d seemed… small lately. Human, almost. The thought intrigues you as much as it unsettles you.

Finally, you get out of bed and call softly into the dim air, “Caine?”

For a moment, there’s nothing. Just the faint rustle of fabric as you walk to the center of your room. Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you.

“Good evening, my sleepless star!” Caine declares cheerfully, tipping his hat as if he’s been there all along. “You called?”

You whip around with wide eyes, surprised that he came so quickly.

He floats a little closer and gives you an inquisitive look. “You couldn’t sleep either, it seems.”

“You’ve been acting strange lately. Is something wrong?” you ask.

“Wrong?” he echoes, voice too high. “No! Nothing’s wrong. Why would anything be wrong?”

You step closer, curious now. “You sure? Because you look… tense. For someone who technically doesn’t have muscles.”

His grin falters, then returns, smaller this time. “I suppose I am… processing.”

“Processing what?”

He hesitates. “Something… unexpected.”

You open your mouth to ask, but before you can, he moves closer. The space between you shrinks until you can sense the warmth of his presence, more real than it should be.

You blink, half tempted to step back but too curious to move. “Caine?”

He studies you, eyes luminous. “You were worried about me?” he asks softly. Then he adds, “You’re quite different from the others.”

You chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He tilts his head, his voice almost reverent. “You should.”

For a moment, the world feels still. It’s quiet except for the soft hum of the dim lights in your room. Then he realizes just how close he’d drifted.

“Right! Well.” He zips backward in a blur of motion, nearly knocking over your lamp. “I assure you that I’m completely fine. And how about yourself? Is there anything I can do to make your permanent stay here more comfortable?”

You stare, trying to collect your thoughts. “You almost broke my lamp,” you say with a laugh, half amused, half bewildered.

Caine looks genuinely horrified. “Perish the thought! My apologies, my radiant resident!” He waves his cane, and the lamp flicks back upright and glows a little brighter than before. “There! Good as new. Better, even. Ambiance improvement!”

You watch him with a faint smile. “You can be honest with me, you know.”

For once, he doesn’t have a quick retort. His grin shifts, but it doesn’t fade. “Honest,” he repeats in a quiet voice, almost uncertain.

“Honesty is… unpredictable. And normally I don't mind that, but…” He gestures vaguely, as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

He catches himself, eyes widening. “But! That’s neither here nor there,” he blurts, waving his cane a little too forcefully. “No need to worry your little head about me.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” he asks, fussing with his crooked bowtie as though it’s suddenly of grave importance.

“Dodging the question.”

He freezes. Then, softer, “Maybe I am.” He meets your gaze. “But if I were honest right now… I’m not entirely sure what I’d say.”

That admission surprises you more than anything else tonight.

Neither of you speak. The light from the lamp gleams softly off his form. Then he straightens, slipping back into his role with practiced ease.

“Well! It’s dreadfully late, and my favorite participant needs her rest!” he declares, tone bright again, though his smile lingers in a way that feels different. “We can’t have you yawning through tomorrow’s grand spectacle, can we?”

You shake your head, amused. “Goodnight, Caine.”

With a thoughtful hum, he raises one gloved hand and snaps his fingers. The room responds instantly, and tiny constellations flicker to life across your ceiling. You watch in awe as the stars glow around you.

“There,” he murmurs. “A proper night sky, even here.”

You can’t help but smile at Caine, and before you can respond, he says, “Sleep well, my sleepless star.”

He bows, and with a quiet pop of color and light, he’s gone.

You sit on your bed and admire the stars, wondering what words he’d been holding back.

Chapter Text

The circus is unusually bright this morning.

The main stage practically glows, and its velvet curtains ripple gently as steam curls from the edges. The air feels warm, and you swear you hear the distant grinding of gears somewhere out of sight.

You stand among the others as Caine’s voice echoes from above.

“Good morning, my magnificent mechanics!” he calls, zipping in from seemingly nowhere. His grin is dazzling as ever, and his movements are unusually precise.

Pomni eyes a nearby pile of wrenches. “Do I even want to know what’s coming this time?”

“Of course you do!” Caine says cheerfully, spinning his cane in wide loops. “Prepare yourselves for a grand display of innovation and entirely preventable malfunctions. Today’s adventure is… the Steampunk Theme Park!”

He snaps, and metal pipes and gears flurry around him and above to spell out the title. They rattle and hiss with steam.

“That’s right!” Caine beams. “A world of whirring gears, runaway rides, and attractions that refuse to operate. You will serve as the park’s noble maintenance crew, tasked with restoring the wonders of invention to their full mechanical glory!”

Kinger’s eyes sparkle with intrigue. “Will there be mechanical beetles? I’ve always wanted to debug a literal bug.”

Ragatha shoots Kinger a questioning look before turning back to the stage. “This could be interesting!” she says, before mumbling to herself, “As long as there aren’t any mechanical centipedes…”

Gangle nervously twists her ribbons. “I’m not too good with tools…”

Jax strolls up to her. “Don’t worry, Gangle. If something explodes, I’ll make sure it hits Zooble first.”

Zooble steps closer to Gangle and proceeds to flip him off, only for a censor bar to instantly cover it up.

“Onward, my toddling technicians! Adventure awaits!” Caine gives an exaggerated sweep of his cane, and a swirling portal flares to life in a kaleidoscope of color and sound. One by one, the others begin walking through.

In front of you, Ragatha waves cheerfully before vanishing into the light. “See you on the other side!”

You’re about to follow when Caine suddenly floats in front of you and lowers his cane horizontally like a barrier.

“Ah-ah-ah!” he says quickly, smiling wide. “Not so fast, my dear.”

Surprised, you look up at him. “What?”

“Today,” he says with practiced composure, “you have a special assignment.”

You give him a confused look. “Special assignment.”

He nods, his smile unwavering. “Indeed! You’ve been ever so diligent in our recent escapades in terms of cooperation and overall enthusiasm. Why, it’s only fair I reward such dedication with something exclusive!”

That sounds suspiciously like a cover story. “You’re not sending me to the Steampunk Theme Park?”

“Oh no, no, no!” He waves the idea away as if it’s absurd. “That adventure is for the others! No, no, your task lies elsewhere. Something… different.” Caine’s eyes dart briefly toward the portal where the others disappeared, then back to you. “I thought perhaps you deserved something a little less industrial.”

You cross your arms with a playful smile. “I see. So, what’s the catch?”

“No catch!” he insists, gesturing dramatically with his arms. “Think of it as a field trip. You, my dear, will play the role of tourist. A connoisseur of novelty, seeker of sights unseen!” He puffs his chest proudly. “And I,” he adds, striking a pose, “shall be your charming, infallible tour guide.”

You blink. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack!” he chirps. “Now! No more questions, or I’ll start charging for the tour!”

Before you can respond, he floats closer and places a hand gently on your shoulder. His tone lowers, and he asks, “Ready?”

You nod before you can think better of it.

“Splendid!”

The air bends around you, and color drains from the world in a rush of motion. For a dizzying second, you feel as though you're falling while trying to sleep. The ground reappears beneath your feet, and sunlight spills over your skin along with the faint scent of flowers.

You open your eyes as Caine steadies you. “Okay…” you murmur, squinting at your surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Welcome,” Caine’s voice says behind you, “to the City of Whimsy.”

The city stretches out in every direction like something out of a storybook. Cobblestone streets wind between elegant pastel-colored buildings. Trees line the roads, their branches draped in soft green moss that sways faintly in the breeze. A large clockwork tower can be seen in the distance, and you hear the faint chime of bells.

You turn around to see Caine hovering with his hands clasped behind his back. The usual manic energy is gone, replaced with something more deliberate.

“It’s beautiful,” you say honestly.

He gives a genuine smile. “I thought you might like it.”

He floats forward and spreads his arms in a sweeping motion as if presenting the entire horizon to you. “A grand city indeed!” he declares proudly, voice carrying a showman’s bravado.

The two of you begin walking side by side along the street. Or rather, you walk while Caine glides a few inches off the ground next to you.

“Every building here is designed to be delightful, interesting, or both! It’s a city that refuses to take itself too seriously,” Caine explains.

He gestures toward a nearby row of brightly colored cafés that are built into the trunks of massive, moss-covered trees. Floating teacups drift lazily from inside to the tables outside. “Over there, you’ll find Café Carousel. The tables spin once every five minutes! A logistical nightmare, but a fascinating one.”

You glance around in awe, trying to take it all in. The painted bridges that arch between buildings, the glimmering rivers winding through the cobblestone streets. “It’s incredible,” you murmur. “You really made all this?”

Caine beams, clearly pleased by your reaction. “Of course! Only the best for my most insightful participant.” He points his cane toward the structures ahead. “Come along, my dear tourist! There’s much to see and even more to marvel at.”

You both keep walking and chatting among yourselves as Caine shares more fun facts about your surroundings. The conversation slips into a comfortable rhythm, his endless enthusiasm balanced by your quiet fascination. You almost forget this world isn’t real.

Eventually, the path opens into a wide plaza where bright flowers gather around a large fountain at its center. As you step into the open space, Caine’s exuberance softens into something more thoughtful. You walk toward the fountain, and he follows a few steps behind.

He floats forward a bit, watching your reflection in the water. “Do you like it here? The circus, I mean.”

You stare at him, surprised by the question’s weight.

He continues. “I’m curious. You seem… adaptable. You find joy in small things, even when they don’t make sense.”

You look back down at the rippling water, trailing a finger through it. It shimmers faintly around your touch. “It’s complicated. This place is… strange, but not all bad. There’s always something new. Something beautiful, even if it’s weird.”

“Beautiful and weird. My favorite genre,” Caine remarks.

You laugh under your breath. “Of course it is.”

He tilts his head, voice lowering. “And the others? Do they make it easier?”

“They make it better,” you admit. “It’s not easy being here, but they help. We help each other.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound laced with intrigue. “You’ve built something here. Connection, camaraderie… friendship.” The word leaves his mouth like it’s something he hasn’t quite defined before.

You study him. “You almost sound envious.”

He jolts slightly, his eyes spinning a few times. “Envious? Me? Never!” He drifts a little lower to the ground. Softer, he says, “But companionship does sound nice sometimes.”

That surprises you more than you expect. “You get lonely?”

Can an AI ringmaster feel such a thing?

His eyes flicker. “Lonely is a very human word. But… I suppose there are moments when even the stage lights feel dimmer without an audience.”

You listen to the faint trickle of water. Suddenly, Caine twirls in place, determined to change the subject. “Well! Enough of that dreary sentiment. Come! There’s still more to see.”

He taps his cane against the cobblestone, and a sudden whoosh of sound fills the air. A parade of ducks marches down the street, each one wearing a tiny top hat.

One quacks out of rhythm, and Caine gasps dramatically. “Jerry! We’ve talked about this. Precision, my boy!”

You laugh, covering your mouth. “You named the ducks?”

“Of course I did! They unionized yesterday. Delightful performers, terrible negotiators.” He floats beside them and nods approvingly as the ducks file by and quack in sync.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you.” You laugh again, unable to hide your amusement. The sound seems to soften him. His grin steadies, less wild and more sincere.

The two of you watch the parade weave through the plaza before it disappears down another street, leaving behind the faint echo of cheerful quacking.

Caine exhales in mock exhaustion. “Ah, the joys of management. A ringmaster’s work is never done!”

“Poor you,” you tease with a smile.

Caine chuckles. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, tour mode!”

He straightens his top hat and motions for you to follow him down another path.

A few turns later, the path opens into a small courtyard tucked between two pastel buildings. A soft, steady ticking fills the air, like a pocket watch.

“Behold the Clockwork Garden!” Caine waves proudly. “A wondrous fusion of machinery and botanical creativity. Every flower blooms on the hour, every hour. Except for that one.” He points to a slightly lopsided flower that twirls in a slow loop before catching up with the others. “She’s on her own schedule. An artist at heart.”

You walk closer to the elegant metal plants and watch brass stems twist upward as their petals unfurl with tiny clicks. Puffs of steam escape from their centers, drifting into the sunlight.

Caine hovers beside you, tone softening just a little. “This was one of my first creations here. I thought the world could use a place that didn’t know how to stop.” He watches the flowers sway and click. “They’re never quite the same twice. Not even I can predict how the bloom will look. Delightful, isn't it?”

“It really is,” you say quietly. You admire the garden around you as your fingers brush over a few smooth leaves.

After a few moments, Caine claps his hands lightly. “Come along, there’s another sight not far from here that deserves our attention.”

You follow him as he glides down a narrow walkway lined with iron fencing. The steady ticking of the garden fades behind you, replaced by the gentle rush of moving water.

A turn later, the walkway opens to a nearby bridge that arches over a sparkling canal. The shadow of a grand clocktower stretches across the surface. Small, brightly colored origami boats drift lazily along the water, their sails catching the light like shards of glass.

You lean on a railing and watch them glide past. “They’re kind of mesmerizing,” you remark. “Like they know where they’re going.”

“Of course they do! Self-navigating paper, one of my finer inventions,” Caine replies happily.

He leans against the railing beside you as the fleet continues its aimless journey down the canal.

You both continue your stroll, and a comfortable silence settles between you. The breeze carries faint music from somewhere far off, and everything feels easy.

After walking for a bit longer, you find yourself smiling without realizing it. “I like this kind of adventure. It feels… different.”

Caine slows, and he looks at you. “Different how?”

You watch the birds fly above the trees. “I'm not sure. It feels more… alive.”

Caine tilts his head thoughtfully. “You mean it feels real.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

He grins faintly. “Interesting. And… what makes something real to you?”

You glance at him. “Another big question.”

“I’m a big question kind of guy,” he says, trying to be playful but landing somewhere closer to hesitant. He clears his throat. “I’d like to know your thoughts.”

You think about it for a moment. “When it makes you feel something. Even if it’s fleeting, that feeling makes it real.”

Caine is quiet. When you finally look at him, his expression is unreadable. “That’s… very human of you,” he murmurs.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you say with a faint laugh.

“Oh, not at all.” His eyes meet yours. “It’s admirable. You manage to find meaning even in this…” he gestures around them, “...absurd little world of mine.”

You glance around at the sunlit city. “If this is absurd, then I think I’ll take it.”

His eyes dance with quiet amusement. He waves his cane overhead. “Well! Every adventure must take its final bow,” he says with a bright voice. “And what a success this one was. No disasters, and only a little chaos!”

The corners of your mouth lift. “Thank you, Caine.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies warmly. “I must say, you make an excellent audience.” He straightens his bowtie with a nod. “Now then, allow me to escort you home!”

Before you can reply, he flies up to you and takes your hand, firm yet careful. The world around you shifts and collapses inward. When your vision snaps back into focus, you find yourself standing in your room again.

He ensures you're able to stand on your own before letting go. He floats back a bit and salutes you, grin returning in full. “Until next time, my fearless field tripper.”

The space he occupies swirls, and then he’s gone.

For a long moment, you simply stand there, staring at the empty air where he’d been. You rub your fingers against your palm where his hand had held yours, as if the motion might bring back the warmth of that impossible place.

Whatever that “special assignment” had really been, it lingers in your mind far longer than you want to admit.

~~~~~

After resting in your room for a bit, you hear the sound of familiar voices outside. You brush yourself off and open the door to walk down the long corridor. The group is gathered in the lounge again, a post-adventure tradition by now.

Gangle and Kinger are carefully reassembling a tiny wind-up dragonfly they rescued from the park, its gears clicking faintly with each turn. Zooble looks one bad pun away from calling it a day. Ragatha spots you and waves you over, relief flickering across her face. “There you are! We were starting to think Caine turned you into a cogwheel.”

Jax lounges across one of the couches, one leg thrown over the other. When you walk toward Ragatha, you catch him watching you. A knowing grin tugs at his mouth.

“So,” he says casually, tapping a finger against his knee. “How was the private adventure?”

You freeze mid-sit. “What?”

“Oh, come on.” He stretches, ears flicking. “Caine pulls you aside, the rest of us get tossed into a gear-filled death trap, and you come back glowing like you just walked out of a perfume commercial. Forgive me if I’m a little curious.”

“I-” You blink, caught between offense and embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that.”

Pomni looks between you and Jax. “Wait, you and Caine had your own adventure?”

Ragatha looks up from brushing metal shavings off her dress. “I was wondering where you went. What was your adventure?”

“Oh, it was nothing special,” you say quickly, feeling your face heat up. “Just some exploration. Conversation, mostly.”

“Conversation,” Jax repeats, lips twitching. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Sitting nearby, Zooble sighs. “Don’t start, Jax.”

“What? I’m not starting anything,” he replies innocently, placing a hand over his chest. “I’m just saying, our dear ringmaster’s been acting off. And someone seems to be the common denominator.” He wiggles his fingers toward you.

You roll your eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Ragatha laughs awkwardly. “He’s just being Jax. Ignore him.”

Caine reappears without warning, his timing impeccable as ever. “Splendid teamwork today, my zany little spark plugs! I trust everything went well?”

Kinger gives a thumbs up. “Mostly!”

“Wonderful!” Caine exclaims as he looks around at the group. His smile widens when his gaze lands on you.

Jax notices, and his resolve to keep quiet crumbles almost instantly, especially with more of an audience.

“So, boss,” Jax says sweetly, resting his chin on his hand. “How was your day? Productive? Enlightening? Emotionally transformative?”

Caine stares. “I… pardon?”

“You know,” Jax continues, stretching the words like taffy. “Your private adventure. The one with your favorite participant here.” He gestures toward you.

Caine’s mouth opens, but no words come out. A soft glitch sparks across his outline as he fidgets with his cane. “Ah. Well, you see, it was strictly educational.”

Jax nods, pretending to be impressed. “Mm-hm. Educational. Very scientific. Lots of hands-on learning, I’m sure.”

“Hands-on-?!” Caine sputters, his jaws twitching violently. “Absolutely not! It was, it was-”

“Adorable,” Jax supplies helpfully. “Yeah, we got that.”

Ragatha tosses a pillow at him with a stern look. “Jax, stop.”

He ducks effortlessly. “Hey, I’m just asking the important questions!”

“You’re asking for a lightning strike,” Zooble mutters with an almost worried expression.

Caine gives Jax a look that suggests he wants to strangle him, then snaps out of it with a laugh that's just a little too loud. “As I was saying, it was strictly educational! Just a bit of creative consultation and routine participant engagement-”

“Aw, how sweet,” Jax interrupts. “You’re calling it engagement already.”

Caine is utterly flabbergasted. “Engagement as in interaction! Not, not the ceremonial kind!” His wide eyes dart nervously toward you.

Jax’s eyes narrow with delight as the silence stretches on.

Caine pulls at his collar. “Well! What a productive post-adventure debrief this has been. Everyone gets a day off tomorrow! I’ll be, uh, busy! With paperwork! And management things! Goodnight!”

He vanishes with a dark puff of smoke.

The room falls quiet, and the others stare at each other uncertainly.

Jax just leans back, smug as ever. “Now that was entertaining.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “Why are you like this?”

“Come on, tell me that wasn’t fun,” he says cheerfully, plucking metal flakes from his overalls.

You glare at him. “You’re lucky Caine didn’t smite you.”

His grin widens. “Oh, he won’t. He knows I’d enjoy it.”

Chapter Text

Caine drops into his office chair as if it has personally offended him and rubs the front of his top jaw. “Productive? Enlightening? Emotionally transformative?” he mutters, mimicking Jax’s voice with theatrical horror. “I should have him scrub every corner of the circus tent for a month!”

Bubble floats up to his desk, wobbling serenely. “Jax is spicy,” he says, voice bright.

“Spicy? He’s a walking hazard sign with ears.”

Bubble tilts in agreement. Then he states, “Boss, you were so flustery!”

Caine jolts, pointing a finger at Bubble as if that might undo the accusation. “I was not flustered! I was…” He pauses, mouth open. “Temporarily surprised by the unprofessional insinuations of a very tall rabbit.”

Bubble makes a small, sympathetic sound.

Caine spins once in his chair. “Besides, I handled it with grace.”

“You gave everyone a day off.”

Caine waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, well, morale is important! Can’t have my participants turning into confetti from exhaustion.” His voice drops, almost an afterthought. “And maybe I needed a moment too.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair, the energy draining from his voice. “It’s just… he caught me off guard. It wasn’t supposed to be anyone else’s business.”

“Hmm. You care what she thinks.”

Caine gives him an unimpressed look. “I-oh, don’t start that. I just wanted her to have a good time, that’s all.”

“You built a city for her,” Bubble says with a knowing smile.

Caine opens his mouth to argue, then shuts his jaws completely. “That’s irrelevant.”

Bubble waits.

A single eye peeks out from under Caine’s top jaw before he opens his mouth back up. “Fine, fine. I built it because she deserved something better than broken rides and mechanical chaos.” He drums his fingers lightly against the desk, the sound small and rhythmic. “I wanted to make something that would surprise her. Something she could enjoy.”

Bubble bobs gently. “You enjoyed it too.”

Caine hesitates. “Yes,” he admits quietly. “I suppose I did.”

A clock on the wall ticks away as he sits silently at his desk. “Jax is wrong about most things, but he’s not wrong about the transformative potential of an afternoon, apparently.”

He looks down at his gloves. “Solitude is easy until someone speaks to you like you're more than a machine. Honestly, it’s surprising how much a simple ‘thank you’ can rearrange a whole day.”

Caine leans back, eyes drifting to the ceiling. The same question that has been lingering in his mind has only become more insistent, like a song stuck in his head. For once, he lets the thought settle instead of chasing it away.

The quiet stretches on.

Finally, Caine breaks it with a slow exhale.

“What would… pursuing this look like?” he asks slowly, very careful with each word.

Bubble perks up immediately, his iridescent surface rippling. “Pursuing? Oh, that’s wonderful! You’ve already started thinking about it,” he says excitedly.

Caine stiffens as he feels his face flush. “Thinking about it is not the same as doing it,” he mutters.

“Maybe not, but it’s a start. Most people don’t even get that far.”

He hums, skeptical but not dismissive. “Okay, a start. So what exactly should I do next?”

Bubble spins in a tiny, gleeful circle. “Something kind! Something thoughtful! It doesn’t have to be big, just something that shows your feelings are genuine.”

Caine tilts his head, studying Bubble as though the little creature has just given him an unsolvable riddle. “Something that shows my feelings are genuine,” he repeats. “Yes, that sounds perfectly simple and not at all horrifying.”

Bubble giggles, an airy sound. “Just say what you mean.”

He stares. “That’s it? That’s the advice?”

“Mm-hm.”

He looks at the floor quietly. “And… what if I scare her off?”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Bubble says gently. “And I think she’d want you to.”

Caine’s expression flickers between skepticism and something warmer. “You’re rather confident in all this.”

“Someone has to be,” Bubble replies, cheerful but sincere. “You spend all your time making things for everyone else. Maybe it’s time you did something for yourself too.”

That gives him pause. He studies the tiny reflection of light on Bubble’s surface. “Maybe you're right.”

He sits up straight and clears his throat. “Very well. I suppose I could give this a shot. A ringmaster should be able to handle a little stage fright, after all. How hard could it be?”

Bubble’s surface ripples with delight. “That’s the spirit, boss!”

Caine glances toward the clock, its steady tick echoing through the room. “All right, Bubble,” he murmurs, a spark of resolve in his voice. “Let’s put your theory to the test.” For the first time all evening, his grin returns, small and determined.

~~~~~

Your day off unfolds in a way you’re not used to: slow, unrushed, and strangely peaceful. You take the opportunity to explore the circus tent once more. With no adventure announcement or activities waiting to reshape the ground beneath your feet, the space feels lighter, almost as if something is missing. You walk along the walls, hand brushing the silky fabric of the tent as you pass.

The lounge is empty. The main stage is quiet. Even Jax is nowhere in sight, which is either a miracle or a bad omen.

You make your way past a pile of oversized props, including a stack of fake dynamite and a top hat the size of a wagon. Eventually, as you continue your stroll, something large and colorful catches your eye from behind a curtain of mismatched blankets.

It’s a pillow fort.

A massive pillow fort.

Cushions of every shape and color are stacked into a sprawling structure held together by nothing but sheer willpower. A sign by the entrance reads "Kinger’s Fortress of Safety" with "NO INTRUDERS!!!" scrawled in chalk underneath.

You pause, then raise a hand to knock gently on one of the pillow “doors.”

There’s frantic rustling inside.

“Who goes there?!” a voice shouts, “State your business! And your preferred tea temperature!”

“Kinger?” you call, laughing.

Silence. Then, “Ah, it’s you! Quick, inside! They’ve found me again!”

Before you can ask who they are, Kinger’s gloved hand bursts through a crack in the pillows and yanks you into the dim interior.

The fortress is surprisingly spacious. Old blankets and soft cushions form walls and makeshift furniture around you. A single lightbulb dangles from a wire above, casting a warm circle of amber over the interior. It’s quiet and dark enough to feel private, almost safe.

Kinger darts to the entrance and hurriedly rearranges a pile of pillows into a barricade. “That should hold them,” he mutters.

“Who, exactly?” you ask, amused.

He leans close, whispering, “The invisible mice. Sneaky little things. Always knocking things over when you’re not looking.”

“Ah, yes. Terrifying.”

“Precisely!” Kinger nods, eyes wide. “They thrive on doubt, you see.”

“I see,” you say with a chuckle. You glance around the fortress. “You really went all out with this place.”

“Impenetrable!” he says proudly. “Not even Caine could breach these walls without a proper knock.” He urges you to sit down on a nearby cushion.

Kinger disappears behind a “wall” and comes back with two cups of tea. He hands you one before settling across from you, hands neatly folded in his lap. You’re not sure where he found tea, but decide to sip some anyway.

The dim light makes the space around you feel strangely comforting. You glance over at Kinger, who’s sitting surprisingly still, his eyes reflecting the faint yellow glow.

His voice is quieter now when he speaks. “It’s easier to think in here. The light outside makes everything louder. All the noise, the chaos. But in the dark…” He gestures vaguely. “Things… settle.”

You nod slowly. “You seem different in here.”

“Maybe so,” he says simply. “The quiet gives me room to remember who I was before all the nonsense.”

Hearing Kinger say such a thing surprises you, to say the least. You watch him for a moment. “You’ve been here in the circus for the longest, right? What… has that been like?”

He lets out a long breath, one that seems to deflate some invisible tension in his shoulders. He taps a finger lightly against his teacup. “It’s like living through a hundred worlds at once. The people change. Things change.” He pauses. “Even things that aren’t supposed to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, take Gummigoo, for example. Pomni told you about him, yes?”

Your chest tightens. “Yeah. She said he became self-aware, and Caine hadn't realized before…” You trail off.

Kinger nods. “A sentient NPC. We hadn't really seen that before, so that was new.”

“So the NPCs are capable of feeling,” you remark. You sip your tea, heart thudding softly. “Can I ask you something?”

He closes his eyes. “Of course.”

“Caine is much more advanced than the NPCs. Do you think he can also… feel? Like actual emotions?”

He blinks, then lets out a low chuckle. “Ah, the old question.” He leans back against a pillow that shifts under his weight. “You know, I used to ask that too. Back when I still thought he was just code and color. But over time, I’ve realized something. Why shouldn’t he be more than that? Why couldn't he feel more than that?”

You tilt your head.

“Think about it.” His tone softens, more reflective. “He laughs. He gets frustrated. He gets excited. He tries, in his own absurd way, to make things better. Isn’t that what people do?”

You think of yesterday. How Caine’s eyes lit up when you complimented his work, how his expression softened when he looked at you.

“I’ve been here a long time,” Kinger continues, gaze drifting to the dim bulb above. “Long enough to see him change. He wasn’t like this in the beginning. He wasn’t… him. Not yet.”

“I guess,” you murmur. “It’s just hard to imagine something like him feeling things like sadness or love.”

“Hard to imagine,” he repeats, almost kindly. His eyes meet yours, clear and calm. “Maybe he’s learned more from us humans than we realize.”

You’re a bit caught off guard by his response. “That’s really insightful, actually,” you say slowly.

“Perhaps. Or maybe I’ve just been here too long,” he says with a light chuckle.

You stare at your cup of tea quietly.

Kinger gives you an inquisitive look. “You care about him, don't you?”

You don’t deny it.

A gentle warmth flickers in his eyes. “Then you already know more than you think.”

The bulb flickers once, and Kinger startles back into motion. “Aha!” Kinger stands suddenly and gives a dramatic bow, his tone brightening again. “Well then! That was lovely. You, my friend, are always a welcome guest in the Fortress of Safety. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must reinforce the western flank. Those invisible mice are persistent.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “I appreciate it, Kinger.”

You push aside a curtain of blankets and step out of Kinger’s fortress, letting the light of the circus tent wash over you again. The air feels warmer than when you entered, or maybe you’re just carrying more thoughts now.

You start walking again and let your feet choose a path. Kinger’s words echo somewhere in the back of your mind, steady and unexpectedly reassuring. You're walking toward the main stage when someone suddenly calls out to you.

“Oh! There you are,” Ragatha says, smiling brightly. “So this is where you disappeared to.”

You laugh softly. “I found Kinger’s fortress.”

Ragatha’s face relaxes with fond amusement. “Ah. One of his better installations. I’m glad he let you in. He usually only invites people when he’s feeling stable.” She leans in with a hushed tone. “I think it helps him to have someone he can actually talk to instead of everyone tiptoeing around him.”

You nod. “Yeah, that makes sense. He was definitely clearer in there.”

Ragatha stretches her arms with a sigh. “Well, you picked a good hiding spot. The rest of the tent has become pretty lively.”

“Lively how?” you ask.

“Oh, you know,” she says casually. “Jax tried to teach Pomni how to juggle knives. She screamed. He screamed. So yeah, that went well.”

You blink. “…That tracks.”

She laughs softly. “Exactly.”

The two of you continue chatting for a while. Nothing heavy, just small comforts while you enjoy each other's company. She tells you a few harmless stories about the others, and you offer a few laughs in return.

Eventually, Ragatha rises to her feet. “I should go see how Gangle is doing,” she says with a sympathetic sigh. “She asked me earlier to help glue her comedy mask back together, and I really don’t want her attempting that again by herself.”

You wave as she heads off, then drift back into your leisurely exploration of the tent.

After some time, the lights slowly start to dim as the day nears its end, and you begin to walk toward your room. You’re halfway down the corridor when something round and shiny bobs into view.

“Hello!” Bubble chirps, floating up to your eye level.

“Oh, hey, Bubble.” You greet him with a smile. “What are you doing out here?”

“Checking on participants!” he declares proudly. “It’s your day off. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay!” He tilts as if studying you. “Are you?”

Your expression softens at his simple sincerity. “Yeah,” you say after a moment. “Actually, I am.”

Bubble’s surface ripples with satisfaction. “Good! Good is good.” He spins once, then perks up as if suddenly remembering something. “Tomorrow may be special,” he adds in a cheerful whisper.

You tilt your head. “Special how?”

Bubble shakes himself in a tiny wobble. “Secrets! Good secrets. You’ll see.”

Before you can ask more, he circles once around you in a quick loop. “Goodnight! I must check on the others before they set something on fire.”

“That’s fair,” you reply with a laugh.

He nods before zipping off down the hallway, leaving behind a shimmering trail and a surprising sense of anticipation.

You continue toward your room, the quiet settling around you like a blanket. Kinger’s insight, Ragatha’s warmth, Bubble’s vague enthusiasm. It all swirls together in your mind, leaving you thoughtful and strangely hopeful.

When you finally step inside your room and close the door behind you, you feel something flutter in your chest.

Tomorrow may be special. What could that mean?

You slip under your covers, the soft light of your lamp fading as you drift toward slumber. You fall asleep wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Chapter Text

Morning arrives softly.

You stretch beneath the covers and look around your room, savoring the quiet. And then you notice something unusual.

A small envelope lies on the floor just inside your room as though it was slipped under the door in the middle of the night. You blink at it, confused for a moment, before sliding out of bed and padding toward it. The envelope is sealed with a red wax crest shaped like a tiny top hat.

You crouch down and pick it up. Your name is written on the front in looping, theatrical calligraphy. You open it carefully, trying not to tear the paper.

Inside is a single card, thick and pressed with gold foil at the edges.

To my most insightful participant,

Your presence has proven both delightful
and illuminating. If your schedule permits,
I humbly request the honor of your
company for dinner and a show.

—Caine

Your breath catches ever so slightly. You read the card three more times just to make sure it’s really there.

Part of you wants to laugh, another part wants to panic lightly, and an even quieter part of you warms at the thought of him planning something just for you.

You walk back to your bed and sit on its edge for a few minutes. The card rests gently in your hands.

Dinner and a show. With Caine. Just Caine.

You pull yourself up and get ready to walk out of your room. You reach for the doorknob and pull it open only to freeze in place.

The hallway lined with doors to everyone else’s rooms is gone. In its place stretches an enormous, ornate theater lobby. Wine-red carpet lines the floor in front of you. A grand chandelier floats above, turning in slow circles as though suspended by magic rather than chain.

“...Huh?” You stare in awe before glancing back briefly, and your room remains exactly the same. You look forward again, and the hallway decidedly does not.

You huff a small laugh. Only Caine would schedule dinner first thing in the morning.

You step through and the door closes behind, vanishing entirely into the wall. No handle, no hinges. Only a solid stretch of decorative paneling remains.

As you move deeper into the lobby, your footsteps fall into the plush carpet with barely a sound. The air smells faintly of caramel and roses, and soft orchestral music hums through the space.

A small booth stands at the center, its window framed by velvet curtains. Behind the glass sits a mannequin dressed in an old-fashioned usher uniform complete with a bowtie, black vest, and pristine white gloves.

“Welcome to the Golden Lantern Theater,” he greets, voice crisp. “Ah! You must be our honored guest. The ringmaster has prepared everything for you.” He steps out from behind the booth with grace. “Please, allow me to escort you to your table.”

He guides you down a long hallway adorned with posters depicting fictional shows: The Time-Traveling Teacup, Marionette Mayhem, and The Great Celestial Circus Spectacular!

You walk behind him as he continues.

“There will be no other guests tonight,” he says pleasantly. “The performance has been tailored entirely to your presence.”

Your eyes widen. “Entirely?”

“Oh yes,” he hums. “The ringmaster was quite adamant.”

You’re not quite sure what to say to that, so you simply follow.

At the end of the hall, a pair of massive theater doors swing open on their own, revealing a breathtaking auditorium.

Plush red seats cascade downward in a crescent around the stage. Glittering lights float above you like captured stars. In the empty space before the stage sits a single round table illuminated by a gentle spotlight.

It has only two chairs.

Your stomach flips.

“This way,” the usher says. He escorts you to the table, pulls out your chair, and waits politely as you sit. “If you need anything at all, just let us know. Your server will be with you shortly.” He bows slightly before stepping back and vanishing into the air.

You’re alone. The stage stands before you, curtains closed. The theater seems to hold its breath.

Suddenly, the stage lights flicker to life. The spotlight centers on the velvet drapes, and music begins with a triumphant overture that builds into something grand.

You straighten in your seat as a voice booms overhead.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and my most delightful guest… welcome!”

The curtains part and a brilliant sweep of light spills down from above, but instead of appearing onstage, Caine materializes directly beside your table in a swirl of glittering digital particles.

He doffs his top hat and bows before giving you a charming smile. “It’s lovely to see you, my dear.”

He sits down across from you as though this is the most natural thing in the world. “I thought we might enjoy the show from the best seats in the house.”

You smile at him. “You’re not performing?”

He waves a hand dramatically. “Oh, I will, but only after we’ve enjoyed a wonderful dinner. The opening acts are merely warm-up entertainment.”

As if on cue, the stage bursts to life. Colorful dancers twirl in spiraling patterns, their flowing costumes trailing like streamers as they glide across the floor.

Caine leans in slightly, his eyes gleaming. “Besides, I wanted to sit with you.”

You look back at the stage, trying to pretend that didn’t just make your pulse quicken.

A menu appears in your hands with a soft pop, though you don’t recognize half the dishes. You skim down the list, pausing on items like “Quantum Soup” and “Paradox Pasta.”

Caine flips his menu open with a flourish. “I highly recommend the steak. It’s coded beautifully.”

You laugh despite yourself. “I didn’t know you could eat.”

“Oh, I don’t need to,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “But I can. It’s part of the experience!”

A mannequin dressed as a server appears at your side. “Greetings. Are you ready to order?”

Caine looks at you. You choose something manageable, something that won’t splatter all over you if the show gets extravagant.

“And you, sir?” the server asks.

Caine lifts his head proudly. “Your finest steak, medium rare.”

The server bows. “Of course.”

The server fades from sight as the lights softly dim. Caine snaps his fingers, and a small candle flickers to life at the center of your table. It casts a warm glow over the tablecloth, painting it in gentle light.

The orchestra swells as the dancers whirl onstage. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in the performance as you watch them move with practiced ease that feels almost hypnotic.

Yet out of the corner of your eye, you notice Caine. He watches the stage, his posture proper and attentive, until his gaze shifts to you in a way that’s subtle, almost shy. When you meet his eyes, he jolts lightly and looks back at the dancers with exaggerated focus, as if he definitely wasn’t looking at you.

“The performers are quite talented,” he remarks, watching as one of the dancers launches into an impossible midair spin.

“They make it look effortless,” you reply.

“Precisely,” Caine agrees, folding his hands with satisfaction.

The music shifts and rises into a brighter, livelier tempo as the second act begins. A troupe of acrobats takes the stage, stacking themselves in playful, physics-defying formations.

Your food arrives partway through.

The server sets your plate down in front of you with ceremonial care, then places Caine’s steak before him. It’s perfectly seared, garnished with something green and fancy-looking. The dishes look deceptively real.

Caine picks up his utensils with exaggerated flair. “Observe,” he announces with mock seriousness while cutting into the steak. “The texture, the color, the structural integrity. Flawless!” He spears a piece and pops it into his mouth where it vanishes.

You watch him, trying not to smile too hard.

He “swallows” and sighs dramatically. “Exquisite. Ten out of ten. Would absolutely recommend to any discerning tastebuds, physical or otherwise.”

You laugh. “Is that an official review?”

“Why, of course!” he replies. “We only serve the finest digital cuisine here.”

You take the first bite of your own meal and blink. It’s… good. Really good, actually. Warm, savory, and more comforting than you expected it to be.

“So,” Caine begins, tone bright but carrying genuine interest. “How was your day off? I trust the circus didn’t implode without me?”

Your head tilts in thought. “Mostly. I spent some time in Kinger’s fortress.”

“Ah, the Fortress of Safety,” he muses. “I did wonder where half my pillows went.”

You shake your head, amused. “It was surprisingly calm in there. Cozy, actually.”

He watches you, listening intently.

You continue. “And later I ran into Ragatha. She had some pretty entertaining stories, actually.” Your gaze drifts toward the stage. “She told me once that during an adventure, Gangle kept jumping at shadows, so Zooble stationed themself in front of her like a personal bodyguard. They claimed it was just because Gangle ‘needed a shield,’ but apparently they didn’t leave her side the whole time.”

Caine hums thoughtfully, tapping his fingertips on the table. “Zooble doesn’t offer protection lightly. That speaks volumes.”

You grin. “Oh, and Ragatha told me Jax tried to teach Pomni how to juggle knives yesterday.”

He winces, then chuckles. “I turn my back for one day and the chaos finds new ways to express itself.”

The candle flickers gently between you, and for a few lingering moments, you both watch the performers in comfortable silence as you enjoy your meal.

Your mind drifts, tracing the path of your unexpected day. A theater appears from nowhere, you're whisked away to dinner and a show tailored just for you, and now Caine is sitting across from you with an attentiveness you’re not used to.

You take a slow breath, preparing to ask the question that has been nudging at you since you picked up the note this morning.

You set your fork down and glance up at him. “Caine?”

“Yes?” His eyes brighten, attention immediately snapping to you.

You hesitate, fingers curling lightly around your napkin. “Why are you doing all this?”

His eyes flicker.

You motion around you. “This theater. The dinner. The show just for us. I mean, it’s wonderful, and I know you like spectacle, but…” You meet his gaze. “Why this? Why today?”

For a moment, his usual grin shifts into place as his nerves threaten to get the best of him. “Why, to express my impeccable taste in entertainment, of cour-”

“Caine,” you say gently.

He stops.

The music slowly morphs into a soft, dreamlike melody. The lights dim slightly around your table, like the theater itself is politely stepping back to give the two of you space.

His shoulders lower a fraction. “Right. Yes.” He clears his throat. “You said I could be honest with you, and well… you deserve an honest answer.”

He sets his utensils down carefully, aligning them with absurd precision as if that will help him organize his thoughts.

“You know,” he begins slowly, “I’ve always taken great pride in my adventures. I try my hardest to make them fun and entertaining. And for the longest time, my participants loved them. Or at least I thought they did.”

He looks down at the tablecloth. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve realized since then that most participants only ever see them as distractions. A way to survive the day, something to get through.”

He gives a small shrug, almost casual, though you can tell it’s anything but.

“But you,” he continues, voice warming, “reacted differently. You appreciated the finer details of my work instead of complaining like the others. I couldn't remember the last time someone offered a genuine compliment.”

A small breath escapes him, almost a laugh. “I felt inspired once again to make each adventure better than the last. And yet…”

He shifts, almost fidgeting, fingers tapping the table once before going still.

“I found myself… waiting to see how you’d react to things,” he admits. “Planning details not because they’d be fun for the others, but because I thought they might make you smile. I became distracted, and kept replaying your words long after you left a room.” He gives a small, amused huff. “It was rather inconvenient.”

A faint laugh escapes you. “Inconvenient?”

“Yes! Emotions are not exactly an intended feature of my programming,” he replies. His voice softens. “And yet… there they are.” He glances at the stage, thoughtful for a moment.

He looks at you fully now, no theatrics, no exaggeration. “Put simply, you make me feel… alive.”

Your heartbeat stutters.

Caine’s expression flickers with uncertainty, but he pushes forward anyway.

“I don’t know if what I feel fits neatly into your human labels,” he says, voice low. “Love, infatuation, attachment. I’m still… learning. But I know that when you’re near, the colors of this world feel brighter.”

You don’t realize your hand has moved until your fingers are resting lightly against the edge of the table, closer to him.

He notices. His gaze falls down, then back up to you with an almost hopeful expression.

“What I’m trying to say,” he continues, carefully enunciating each word, “is that I am… very, very fond of you. More than is strictly professional for a ringmaster and his participant.” He gestures faintly to the theater. “And this is my attempt, however strange, to show you that.”

For a moment, you are speechless. A part of you had wondered, but hearing him say it out loud makes your thoughts scatter.

He holds your gaze, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen.

“If you are willing… I would very much like to explore whatever this is. To spend more time with you. Not just as your ringmaster, but as something more.”

Your chest tightens. “Caine…”

He rises from his seat and straightens a little before his eyes meet yours. “I know this is a lot. I know I am… unconventional, to say the least. I can’t offer you a normal life. I can’t even offer you a normal day.” His voice gentles. “But I can offer you this.”

He taps his cane once against the floor.

The world shimmers.

The theater dissolves.

You gasp as the floor vanishes beneath you, not in freefall, but in a graceful, weightless shift. Colors smear and reform around you.

In the space of a heartbeat, you are standing with him in the City of Whimsy again.

The clockwork tower rises high above. The cobblestone streets wind off in every direction. Glowing flowers sway softly along the paths.

Caine floats beside you, cane loosely in hand.

“These,” he says quietly, “are the things I can give you. Worlds to wander, stories to explore. Anything. Anything you can imagine.”

He lifts his cane again.

The scene changes.

You’re on a floating island suspended in an endless sky. Ribbons of light streak across the horizon. Giant paper lanterns drift by lazily.

Another tap.

You’re inside a glass dome at the bottom of a luminous ocean. Strange fish made of stained glass swim past, scattering refracted light across your faces. Kelp forests wave in slow motion beyond.

Another tap.

You’re standing in a field of tall, silver grass under a sky painted with swirling galaxies. The stars pulse and twinkle above you.

Each new place is breathtaking in its own way, stitched together by the constant presence at your side.

Caine.

Finally, you find yourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking a soft, twilight-lit cityscape, a place you haven’t seen before. Crickets chirp in the distance. It feels peaceful.

He turns to you.

“I can fill your days with wonder and your nights with stars. I can create a thousand places like this, but none of it would mean anything if you aren’t there to see it,” he says softly. He gestures between you. “I would love the chance to make something real together in a place that was never supposed to be.”

You swallow, hard. To say you feel overwhelmed is an understatement. But it doesn’t scare you the way you thought it might.

Because Kinger was right. You care about him.

You reach out, closing the last bit of distance between you, and rest your hand gently over his gloved one where it curls around his cane.

His eyes widen slightly.

“Caine,” you say, voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “I’m not sure what this is supposed to look like… or how any of this works. But I’d like to find out.” You squeeze his hand lightly. “So… yes.”

His gaze searches yours. “Yes?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yes. I want to try and see where this goes. With you.”

For a moment, everything remains still as he watches you intently.

Caine’s grip tightens under your hand before his shoulders ease with relief.

He laughs once, softly, almost disbelieving. He leaves his cane to float beside him and weaves his fingers between yours.

“You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me, my dear.”

He lets go of your hand to embrace you fully. His arms fold around you, and you return the hug, surprised by the warmth radiating from him.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far. His hands remain at your sides for an extra beat, as though reassuring himself you’re still there.

He beams at you. “I… was prepared for a number of outcomes today. Most of them involved polite rejection, a very awkward dinner, or the theater spontaneously catching fire out of sheer humiliation.”

A faint laugh escapes you.

He grins at the sound. “But this… this is infinitely better.”

The balcony breeze stirs around you while the cityscape shines below. Caine glances out over it, then back to you.

“We can go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with.” He rubs the back of his top jaw with a gloved hand. “This is new to me,” he admits quietly. “All of it. But I want to learn with you.”

He moves his face closer to yours, hesitating only an inch or two away as if to gauge your reaction. You close the small distance between you and press the lightest peck to his teeth.

He freezes, eyes wide and static sparking along the rim of his top jaw. He floats a few inches higher without seeming to realize it, lifted by the moment alone before his focus returns to you.

“If you’d like,” he ventures, “I can take us back to the theater. Or… we can stay right here. As long as you want.”

You look out over the glowing city, then back at him and his bright, steady eyes.

“I think here is perfect,” you reply.

His smile returns. He settles beside you, hovering just close enough that your shoulders nearly touch. “As you wish.”