Chapter Text
The moon and the sun had passed their respective cycles and Kinger still hasn't come back. They began to doubt if he would, if he ever planned to or if he even could.
Jax had suggested forgetting about him, continuing the task at hand as much as it hurt him to leave a person he once cared for behind. Everyone, with a hesitation from some, refused. If their king comes back they must be here.
Pomni frowned, staring at the sand, drained of its sickening yellow color. Of course she had noticed Kinger's despair. It almost seemed like he was mourning. In grief of something that couldn't even die. Was it the pain of losing his work, of being forced to leave a project he'd dedicated his life to, or was it something stronger? Did Kinger care for their AI prisoner so deeply that he'd rather get lost in the code of the circus than live with the fact he brought his creation to its end?
Zooble couldn't understand, neither could Jax. Ragatha sat on her knees at the exact spot she was before Kinger dropped, staring down at the bottomless hole, praying, sobbing, or maybe not doing anything at all.
Gangle, as much as she wanted to lay her ribbon hand on Zooble's back, stood far from the rest under a surviving palm tree, frantically staring at the floor, at the sky, at the circus in the distance or what remains of it. For a long period she stared at the ground beneth her, rubbing and clenching her ribbon feet on the sand. Fear that another hole would come and suck her, or anyone else down, clouded her mind. So much so that she didn't hear the wind shift above her.
A strong shadow covered the grains of sand under her feet. Confused she stared at the rest of her surroundings, assuming the color draining had gotten worse. To her further confusion, everything was the same, and she found her companions staring not at her but a few feet above her. The shock in their faces was unmistakable. Was the circus collapsing? Was some kind of horrible, destructive monstrosity in the distance behind her? She turned back, mistaking the sound of shifting leaves above her as caused by the wind.
Her mask moved to speak befor it was muffled by sand. Pressing on her frame like an enormous statue Kinger stood motionless. But there was another, slightly less crushing weight next to him.
"Oh gosh, Gangle are you alright?" Kinger pulled his body up, kneeling down Infront of her. Her comedy mask stood broken in the sand, shattered in pieces around her. As her head rose, a glass tear rolled down her porcelain cheek
"It's ok" she trembled, letting her ribbon palm lay on Kinger's extended hand. A snap echoed in the now less dense air, and immediately the scattered bits of white and black porcelain buried in the ground disappeared. Gangle no longer felt the tickling presence of her tragic tear lingering at the side of her face.
Everyone's eyes laid on Caine, sitting comfortably on top of poor Gangle's ribbons, his hands keeping the after snapping pose. All these technicolored pupils staring deep into his code, as slowly the saturation of the area returned to the edge of the color wheel, brought the AI a sense of familiarity. Ignoring the shock, the horror, the unreadable mismatch of emotions in their cartoon faces.
Something snapped inside Caine's code, like an action command that was just written. A weight lifted off of Gangle's frame and now Caine hovered in the air.
"WELCOME!" He sang, the casts hearts punching their chests "TO THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!!" His words flew in the digital window of the circus, mending the cracks, rewriting the code, boosting the sharpness of the shapes, the saturation of the colors. Obediently the circus reconstructed itself on Caine's words, wanting to be presentable for its one and only host.
"Hm..." Caine let his shoulders fall, slowly gliding down back onto the ground. "Now why did I say that?" He spared a glance at Kinger, who decided against reciting the complicated explanation that would lead to more questions from his little AI and simply shrugged.
"We should get inside, you all want to leave right?" His question, calm and determined appeared sharp to Caine as it stabbed his heart relentlessly. He's not sure why, and that only threw salt in the wound. Everyone's nods only made it worse.
"Come on then, we need to talk" he strolled over to Caine, lost in his own little world only to be brought back when a thick gloved finger tapped the edge of his gums.
"And I need to check your code, mister"
Caine stared intently at the hand that was offered to him. The cast exchanged glances. As if it were a scandal, their gaze burned the two as they walked hand in hand towards the circus. They only moved when Pomni took the first step.