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The atmosphere among the group was besmeared with tension, heavy and all-consuming, far beyond something they could grasp upon and name. Each harbored a different mount of emotion, it’s focus bouncing between the knowledge they lacked and the one they were faced with. It suffocated their existence, their minds suffering the consequences of Caine’s oblivious actions. And with the source of their disarray gone, it had labeled them incapable to target a focusing point of rage. So they stood, breathing in the digital illusion they were trapped within. A ticking time bomb ready to erupt.
“What do we do now?” Gangle timidly voiced, breaking their fragile silence.
Ragatha tightened her arms around herself, “What can we do?” she responded with a meek tone, a far away glance trapped in thought.
Perhaps, in that moment, it was a mere coincidence when her gaze trailed a path across the room and settled on Jax’s back. A betrayal of her train of thought.
The others followed suit, containing a multitude of sentiments displayed by the glances to his figure. None had any idea what was going through his mind nor of his feelings. Even Pomni, who was closest to him, could not gauge at his facial expressions, face bowed and hidden from view.
“You pressed it.” Zooble accused, their barely contained anger echoing through the large space they had yet to leave.
A barely visible flinch coursed over his body, hands on the console curling into fists, “It was fake.” he mumbled.
The lack of volume in his voice had Pomni noticing the minor details of his posture. All the small elaborate things he tried to hide from the world alas his facade fall to the floor and shatter below. And it became apparent to her how he struggled more and more to take in a breath, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly.
“You pressed it!” Zooble pressed even louder.
“It was fake!” he snapped back to face the group.
There was hardly anything to be said about the poorly contained mania within his voice. Or his expression, and how it revealed to the others the scribbles that had replaced his pupils. A sight to behold. A sight to be fearful of.
It mattered not in this moment.
Without missing a beat, Zooble hissed in response, “And you think that makes it better?!”
“Oh, my god!” he hollered with a mixture of panicked disbelief, “There’s no leave button, no escape, there never was!”
And that was it, as his sentence bounced around the walls of the isolated room, resonance and truth rang deep within each one of them. There had never been an exit. No way out. And Jax’s choice bore no consequences. Their dwelling and arguing couldn’t take away their frustration. But it had to be pinpointed somewhere, and a stated fact did not erase the other.
And Zooble was not one to excuse all the bullshit he’d put them through, so they added to the fuel, “We wouldn’t have the chance even if there was one!”
He laughed with a bitter edge, a tone harsh and manic as he said, “It doesn’t matter! None of this matters! We don’t—” Abruptly, Jax paused, and then took in a deep breath, his pupils settling and expanding to the unsettling sight of reset. Of regulation and normalcy.
It was then when Ragatha stepped in between them, “Let’s just calm down for a bit.” she tried.
Jax’s focus zeroed in on her, “Oh great, let’s have little miss fake positivity tell us that it’s all going to be fine.” he snided.
She stared at him in utter disbelief, “I’m trying to help you!”
Jax scoffed, “Help me?” another laugh bubbled out of him and then he pointed at Ragatha, “I don’t want your help, doll-face!”
“And yet it looks like you need it.” she fired back.
“I don't.”
“There lies your problem.” Zooble chimed in once more, taking away Jax’s attention from Ragatha, “You don’t trust any of us.”
“You have me all figured out, don’t you?” he mocked. “And with your whole speech earlier today? You’re on a roll!”
“Of course you would take someone reaching out to you as something repugnant.” they rolled their eyes, “If you want to treat it as fake, so be it. But it’s very real that you’re alone.”
“Am I supposed to care about that?” he barked out a laugh, “About any of you?”
“No.” Zooble’s anger had sniffled out, replaced by a clear understanding that it was a losing battle after all, “But we don’t have to care about you.”
“Good! Oh, you would all do me a favor if you didn’t!” he’d tried to keep it together after everything, “Because you do know what will happen?” he had really tried, “We’ll abstract! All of us will! So what’s the point?” the scribbles became the visual representation of his spiral once more.
“What’s the point in caring? In trusting?!” he began recalling memories of past friendships like a poorly made film before his eyes, “We’ll just become like Kaufmo! Just like—” a pause, a sharp intake of breath, released on a word. A name, “…Ribbit.”
He fell quiet, his heavy breathing the only audible sound to surround them. The memories swam through his mind on repeat, the ending all the same.
He breathed in and out the spiral to surface, put the facade back on and pretend it all gone. Only they were all looking. With concern, with alarm. With pity. What a mockery. Truly an unnecessary thing, that they shouldn’t be doing when they looked at him. He needed no pity, no help to get through this. He’d managed just fine.
“What?!” he snapped, “Are you all suddenly concerned about me?”
He needed to get out of here. Away from the piercing gazes of the other members. The knowledge they held and the meaning behind it. They knew too much. He let out too much. And he has nowhere to hide and collect the false pieces.
“Jax…” Pomni’s soft voice filtered through like a knife prepared to cut him open.
She didn’t know. She didn’t. But she had seen the broken pieces before, and her hand continued to reach out to him.
He can’t. He can’t do this. He was too far into things to change the motions. He flinched and pulled away from the situation.
“Forget it.” he sighed and headed for the grant door that would release him from this room.
They parted for him to pass, staring at his form as it disappeared from view. They couldn’t do something for him, not if he didn’t ask. And he wouldn’t ask. Even if his ending was that of crashing and burning.