Chapter Text
The last thing Jax remembered was floating in the void with the others, peering at the circus isolated in the far distance. Now, he stood alone in a vaguely familiar run-down building. Well, run-down was an understatement—it was decaying. Was this some sort of weird new adventure, or a dream?
If I’m dreaming, why is this headache so freaking bad? It was probably the most real thing he’d felt in a long time, but he couldn’t be sure. His mind was clouded. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jax pressed his fingers to his temples.
Ugh. Was there some sort of pain update I didn’t hear about? If this was an unpleasant dream, he wanted to wake up already. He opened his eyes again, gaze pointed to the grimy floorboards and his scuffed up sneakers.
Sneakers? Since when did I wear—The fog over his mind cleared in a sudden gust of realization. He snapped his head up. A visceral reaction jolted his system, as if he were meeting death itself. There, on a sunken, dusty desk, sat the ancient computer and headset that haunted his nightmares. Somehow still powered on, its glow illuminated the abandoned office, taunting him. He staggered back, running his fingers over the planes of his face—nose, brows, lips, and scratchy stubble—all frighteningly real.
“No way.” He croaked, an incredulous laugh bubbling from his throat. The memories of his last day in the circus came flooding back: Watching the circus fall apart and feeling the discomfort of being sucked from the digital world, as if he were being torn limb from limb.
But what happened to the others? To Pomni? A pang of panic flashed through him, but he quickly pushed the feeling down. What mattered most in this moment was getting as far away from that evil headset as possible, not the others. Jax quickly navigated the rotting confines of the abandoned warehouse, following the natural light emanating from doorways and cracks in the walls.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright natural light of the morning. Blinking and squinting, he turned slowly, surveying his new surroundings. It was strange how detailed everything was now, it was almost overwhelming. Jax had become far too accustomed to sparsely rendered polygons. He stood in what used to be a parking lot, faded white lines just barely visible below his feet. Behind him was the dilapidated office he exited. It had clearly been abandoned for who-knows-how-long.
And it should stay that way, he thought. So long as that headset exists. Bordering the abandoned office were more equally run down buildings, all overtaken by moss, vines, and rot.
Portland. He knew he was in Portland, Oregon. He could remember that much, thanks to not going completely insane. Where he was in Portland, he couldn’t remember. Whatever edge of the city he was exploring before the circus in order to enter some abandoned shack was a mystery now. If he could just find his way back into town, he’d figure out what to do from there.
There was just one more problem: He still couldn’t remember his name, which was kind of crucial to blending back into the real world. He patted down the cargo pants he was wearing, hoping for a wallet or really anything that he could tie back to his old identity. He fished out a tattered, faux leather wallet from a side pocket.
Lucky. Upon opening it, he found a few crumpled bills, his old debit and credit cards, and a driver’s license, which he quickly pulled out. A man with tan skin, bleached hair, and snake bite piercings stared back at him from its printed surface. Up until this point, Jax hadn’t seen his own image in so long he’d forgotten what he looked like. His human self felt like a ghost of the past, long replaced by a visage of plasticky purple fur. Seeing his human self again, even if it was a slightly outdated picture, was completely surreal. It made the fact that he had actually escaped the circus all the more real. He examined the print on the license. DOB: 6/25/1990, Name: Felix Castillo.
Only when he arrived in the city did Jax—Felix— notice how much had changed. Everything was sleek and shiny, screens everywhere.
Seriously, how long was I in there? He reached into another pocket in his cargo pants and pulled out his cracked iPhone 4. Dead, of course. He wandered into a nearby cafe. If he could get this phone charged, maybe he could get ahold of some old acquaintances, or even family…if he really needed to. He sauntered to a guy that seemed around his age studying on a beat-up, oldish looking laptop. If anyone had what he was looking for, his best chances were with this guy.
“Hey man, you got an iPhone charger? My phone’s dead.”
The stranger looked up, pushing back his headphones. “Uhh yeah, but I only have lightning, not USB-C if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Felix paused for a moment, dazed. “Yeah, uh,—do you have something for this?” He held up his iPhone 4. The stranger stared at the phone, then looked back up at Felix, brows raised as if he were being pranked.
”Are you being for real?”
Felix shifted around uncomfortably. It’s not like he could tell someone “yeah so I was actually trapped in a digital circus for who knows how long, could you help me re-enter society?”
“…Yeah.”
”Sorry man, I don’t just carry around chargers for stuff that’s over a decade old. If you need to call someone you can use my phone if you want.”
Over a decade old?
“Uh, right—thanks.”
The stranger handed Felix his very large phone. He stared at it for a moment, thumbs hovering over the dial pad.
Oh.
He didn’t remember anyone’s numbers. Or rather, he didn’t have anyone to call. He shook his head. “You know what, never mind. Here.” He handed the phone back. “Thanks, I guess.”
”…Sure.” The stranger eyed him suspiciously and slid his headphones back on.
Unsure of what else to do, Felix strode back out into the streets. He was out of his depths when it came to social interactions with strangers. He couldn’t just…mess with them here, not if he wanted to get something out of it. He resigned to wandering. Even if a lot of things changed, the layout of the streets themselves couldn’t have been that different. Still, a lot could happen in ten years—probably more. He still didn’t know what year it was. He figured if he asked someone outright they’d think he was crazy. Maybe he was.
After hours of meandering aimlessly about the city, he came across a relatively familiar intersection. He had roomed with an acquaintance for a while before the circus, and if his memory served him correctly, his apartment should've been around there. The possibility that he still lived in the same apartment was incredibly slim, but it never hurt to check—otherwise Felix was totally helpless.
I’ll figure something out. He was always able to. As he wove himself through side-streets and alleyways toward the edge of downtown, surrounding buildings began to look more and more run-down again.
Great. His former abode was completely abandoned, a fact evident by the broken windows, rusted awnings and layers of graffiti and grime coating the brick walls. But considering Felix had nowhere else to go, it was either this or the sidewalk. He preferred the former.
Apartment 121 looked just about the same as the outside of the building, with all of the grime, cobwebs, and rot one could expect. The rooms had obviously been scrapped for the furniture and valuables, leaving just the appliances too heavy to carry, as well as a worn, ripped couch and a rusty bed frame. It certainly was lacking, but it would have to do—at least until Felix could pull himself back on his feet. The imminent problem was that he had no idea how he would manage to do that with no phone and no real place to call home. He’d figure it out, of course, but it had to be fast.