Chapter Text
You got isekai'd.
Click The Amazing Digital Circus and escape your boring life forever!
A message box popped up on your computer screen.
You clicked “Confirm.”
Darkness swallowed your vision.
Then came dizziness.
When you opened your eyes, something felt… wrong.
Your body didn’t feel like your own. Your limbs—your head—felt heavy.
There was something on your back. Something especially heavy.
But overall, you somehow felt lighter.
Did you… lose weight?
Since when was that even possible?
“Welcome to the Amazing Digital Circus! I’m Caine, your Ringmaster!—”
Music began to play, faint and distant.
You paused in confusion, but still recognized that unmistakable voice.
Wait…
Did you just get transported into that show?
Looking around, you realized—
You were embedded in a carousel.
…Embedded?!
“What the—?!”
Even your curse got automatically censored.
Great. Now you were definitely sure which show this was.
So that’s what was heavy on your back.
A metal pole.
The kind used to fix carousel mounts in place.
It ran behind you—thankfully not through your body, but connected to some kind of joint in your waist.
You were sitting on a wooden horse.
And wearing…
A costume?
Bloomers. White shirt. Ruffled cravat. Wide-brim hat.
It felt like a mismatched mix of men’s and women’s clothing, old and new—overall very Victorian.
But the clothes weren’t the important part.
The important part was—
Your ball-jointed wrists.
Oh.
So you’re basically Pinocchio now.
Great.
After some struggling, you managed to detach yourself.
But the part on your lower back…
That piece seemed fused to you. You couldn’t remove it.
It looked like a folded cross.
…Strangely familiar.
But you weren’t into antique dolls. You were from the 21st century. Western vintage toys weren’t exactly your field.
Still—
At least you were humanoid.
You let out a shaky breath of relief.
Better than turning into a teddy bear or a toy car.
You began exploring the site.
On the other side of the circus—uncharted territory.
Caine and Bubble were sitting at a table in a sunlit dining area, red checkered tablecloth glowing under the warm light.
A pleasant “afternoon.”
A new human had arrived.
Caine was delighted.
He was just about to launch into a grand explanation of his feelings when—
Beep beep.
His wacky watch interrupted him.
“Oh no! A human has wandered into the Void!”
He gasped.
But something stranger appeared—
Two dots on the display.
Caine paused.
Then vanished instantly.
He first teleported to the Void—
and rescued Pomni.
Then—
he appeared in front of you.
The two of you stared at each other.
You were currently dragging one wooden leg back into the roller coaster, climbing in a rather undignified posture.
Being watched by the Ringmaster made your heart skip.
You suddenly felt like you’d done something wrong.
Like being caught gaming all night by your parents...
You recognized him.
Your favorite character.
But this meeting…
Wasn’t how you imagined it.
Caine didn’t speak.
No greeting. No introduction.
He just placed a hand on his chin.
“Hmm…”
You slowly pulled your leg back in.
And suddenly realized—
He was the owner of this place.
Including this unexplored amusement park.
And you had just…
Broken his carousel.
Also—
There were multiple versions of “you” fixed onto it.
You weren’t that different from spare parts.
Wait.
So…
Are you even human?
Or in this world, are you—
“An NPC?” Bubble suddenly popped in.
“I don’t remember you making a new NPC, Caine! Is she one of those ‘57x immersion enhancement’ AIs too?”
Caine raised his hand.
He was about to snap.
A sense of dread surged through you.
“Wait!!”
Snap.
“…?”
Nothing happened.
You weren’t deleted.
No confetti. No glitch.
You and Caine continued staring at each other.
“…What is going on?” you finally asked.
Caine looked even more confused.
But at least he didn’t crash.
He tried again.
And again.
But he simply couldn’t delete you.
Eventually, he gave up.
“Are you human?”
That was his first question to you.
Unexpectedly serious.
Your heart pounded.
For a split second, you had almost believed you were an NPC.
That was terrifying.
You didn’t want to get deleted on the spot!
“I am! I’m human! My name is—”
“…Oh, shi—”
You couldn’t remember.
Seeing you fail to recall your name, Caine suddenly froze.
He paused for a moment.
Then he reached out—
and pulled you straight out of the roller coaster.
Instant teleport.
“Poof.”
You suddenly appeared on the stage inside the circus tent.
“O_O”
That was your expression at the moment.
Because your features were literally painted on, you really did only have two little dot eyes.
On the plus side, there was no limit to how exaggerated your expressions could get.
But in theory, that also meant your expression could be wiped off by force—
which was, frankly, horrifying.
Without anything painted on, your face would just be a block of wood, with hollow eye sockets, a protruding nose, and the curve of your cheeks.
Of course, Caine would never admit it, but this time, he seemed unable to distinguish between a human and an NPC.
That was dangerous.
Until he was certain, he wouldn’t make it public.
He was just about to say something.
The usual opening line—welcoming a human to the circus—was already on the tip of his tongue—
But he paused.
“Let’s welcome a new member of the circus!”
He flourished his cane with theatrical enthusiasm.
Bubble immediately followed up with a burst of synthetic applause.
“Uh… oh! A n-new member?” Ragatha sounded surprised, but her first reaction was still an awkward attempt at welcoming you.
Everyone who had been eating turned to look at you.
You glanced at the 3D food on the table.
It all felt unreal.
Had you… really get into the Circus?
No.
What would this change?
Would you affect the plot? Would you become friends with the characters? How exactly were you supposed to fit into a story that was already set in motion?
And if you changed something—would there be consequences you couldn’t predict? Would this world still be manipulated by the writers’ hands?
Now that you had entered The Amazing Digital Circus…
Was it still airing in another dimension at this very moment?
Who were you?
What role were you supposed to play?
Why you?
Were you part of the “plan”?
Were you a character designed by someone else?
Were you even real?
Why… had you come here?
Hundreds, thousands of questions crashed into you all at once.
Your thoughts knotted into an inescapable tangle.
You couldn’t breathe.
In real terms, you were hyperventilating.
Your hand clutched at your chest as your body spasmed; you wavered where you stood, barely able to stay upright.
“Hey, new stuff… a-are you okay?”
At some point, Ragatha had come over to steady you.
The others had stopped eating too, exchanging glances as if silently deciding how to deal with this newcomer who had suddenly dropped into their lives.
Caine was gone.
He hadn’t even given you a name…?!
Panicking, you looked around wildly, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The vast, colorful space around you felt empty now—nothing but you and the long dining table, all of it so hollow it sent a chill through you.
“Caine?” you called out.
No answer.
You called again, and again, until you were finally forced to accept the truth:
you couldn’t summon him.
Was this how Pomni had felt back then?
When Kaufmo abstracted, and no matter how desperately she called for Caine, he never appeared?
Then this had to be deliberate.
Your heart sank.
You suddenly felt like you’d been singled out by some suspicious AI.
Holy shit, this is terrifying…
You cursed in your mind, trying to calm yourself down, but panic was already prickling across your skin.
What the hell was going on?!
“Hey, hey… are you alright?” Ragatha asked softly, patting you with concern.
The others gathered closer too.
Your fear didn’t look fake.
Everyone could see the genuine terror written all over you.
Just like Pomni when she had first arrived in the circus.
It was understandable.
They had all gone through this stage before.
“Hey…” Pomni greeted you hesitantly.
She had still been trapped in the wreckage of her own shattered reality, unable to fully recover.
But now, so soon, there was another newcomer—someone like her—someone going through the exact same panic.
That made it easier for her to accept you as one of her own.
She understood, viscerally, and sympathized with what you were going through—
because the two of you shared the same fate.
Slowly, you calmed down.
It wasn’t easy, but you managed it.
The X-shaped eyes on your face returned to normal.
Still breathing hard, you looked at each face in the circus, one by one.
“Hi…”
Your voice came out much weaker than you had expected.
You had meant to act like nothing was wrong…
Well. So much for preserving the dignity of a transmigrator (someone who got isekai'd) blessed with foreknowledge.
You felt embarrassed.
And a little ashamed.
“I… I don’t remember my name.”
That was the first thing you said after wrestling with yourself for what felt like forever.
“Oh… that’s normal,” Ragatha said, trying to soothe you. She put on an expression like this was all perfectly ordinary, then began explaining the current situation to you.
“Tch… another newcomer.” Jax seemed almost bored. He didn’t look particularly curious about your arrival at all, as if this were just another coincidence.
Angel said nothing.
She seemed to sense that something was off.
But she didn’t dare voice her observations or her opinion.
After some introductions, you gradually calmed down.
At least now you knew their names.
They all matched.
So—
You really were inside The Amazing Digital Circus.
Unbelievable.
You sat beside Pomni.
At some point, a plate appeared in front of you.
You tasted the 3D food.
…Not bad.
Better than takeout.
Honestly, it tasted like something from a Michelin restaurant.
Wait—
Bubble made this?
What?!
“So what should we call you?” Pomni asked curiously.
You might be the only person here who made her feel even slightly safe.
Your situations were just too similar.
If Caine wasn’t going to give you a name…
It wasn’t that big of a deal.
You tried to reassure yourself.
It’s just that your favorite character didn’t seem to like you…
No big deal.
No big de—
…damn it, you really wanted to punch him at some point.
You sulked internally, but kept a polite smile on your face.
Pomni was one of your favorite characters too.
And in your current situation, talking to her felt… comforting.
The two of you were different from the others in the circus.
You still retained something closer to a normal mindset—something grounded in real life.
“I guess… I’ll have to give myself a name,” you said with a helpless smile.
Pomni understood immediately.
She looked at you with quiet sympathy.
Hours passed…
“Ugh—how am I supposed to come up with a name…”
You were still smiling on the outside, but your voice was already on the verge of breaking down.
Your English was only good enough for daily conversation—just your average international student level.
Coming up with a name like this?
Your mind was completely blank.
And yet—
you cared about it.
You didn’t want to just pick something random.
You had no idea how much time had passed.
By now, everyone in the circus knew you didn’t have a name—and that you insisted on coming up with one yourself.
With no adventures scheduled, things were painfully boring.
So after dinner, instead of going to sleep, several of them gathered around you, throwing out suggestions.
“Jessie,” Jax offered.
You shook your head. “No.”
“Caroline,” Zooble suggested. It sounded cool—almost a little artistic.
“Mmm—no.” You rejected that one too.
“I’ve got an idea!” Kinger chimed in. “Beatles!”
As in, the band.
“First of all, that’s the name of a famous British rock band,” you said, covering your face as you corrected him.
“Second, that is not a suitable name for a girl.”
Kinger really was from another era…
Rock isn’t even that popular anymore, you muttered to yourself.
Wait.
Then what about your own timeline?
Were you… originally from the future?
Thinking about it only made your brain feel like it was tying itself into knots.
So you stopped.
Completely.
And focused all your attention on one thing—
coming up with a name.
Unable to come up with a name, you grew increasingly frustrated.
“…Um…” Pomni carefully raised a hand.
“What about… Celine?” she said, looking at you. “Your blonde hair kind of reminds me of her.”
She meant Celine Dion—the famous singer.
The name felt… familiar.
You couldn’t quite remember why, but it seemed to carry some kind of special meaning for you.
After thinking for a moment, you accepted it.
“Alright. From now on, I’m Celine~”
The moment you said it, it felt like a weight had lifted off your chest.
You instantly became more cheerful, more lively.
And as if influenced by you, Pomni smiled too.
You hopped down from the sofa and gave an exaggerated, old-fashioned bow—
a theatrical “courtly” gesture.
One knee bent slightly as you elegantly removed your wide-brimmed hat.
Pomni and the others laughed.
Even though it was only your first night together, the atmosphere felt… nice.
You placed the hat back on your head.
Only now did you notice—
there was a thick blue peacock feather stuck to it.
That was way too much.
Your attention shifted to quietly complaining about your outfit.
You decided that before going to sleep later, you’d find a mirror and take a proper look at yourself.
Night fell.
Everyone yawned—despite not actually needing to—and drifted back to their rooms.
Seeing no one around, you quietly slipped out and wandered through the main hall inside the tent.
If you remembered correctly…
Pomni had run into a mirror at the corner of a hallway while being chased by the monster.
From there, she had seen what she looked like.
So—
you should be able to do the same.
You muttered to yourself, unease lingering in your chest.
Honestly, when you were watching the show, it didn’t feel like a big deal.
But now that it had happened to you—
the thought that your appearance had changed… that even your body wasn’t your own anymore, but a wooden construct—
It felt strange.
And a little terrifying.
You stopped.
The mirror was just ahead.
You could already see its reflection—
but you hesitated.
…Alright.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.
In the mirror—
a stranger appeared.
“Eh?”
You blinked in surprise.
Your puppet body was entirely themed in black-and-white square-like patterns.
Your bloomers were striped black and white.
Your oversized, layered cravat was patterned like a chessboard.
Your white shirt was clean, but faintly yellowed with age, the sleeves exaggerated with lace cuffs.
Your wide-brimmed hat was pure black—
it looked like something a lady from another era might wear, but on closer inspection, it could just as easily belong to a much older style of men’s fashion.
Either way, it was excessive.
And pinned to it—
was a peacock feather.
The bloomers even had suspenders.
The buttons were made of fake malachite, glowing faintly in blue-green hues—cheap, but oddly pretty.
The puppet version of you resembled more of a young boy’s frame.
A slightly gaunt face, the kind that brought to mind newspaper boys or messengers.
Your hair—short, messy, coarse blond strands—fell into uneven bangs, giving you an androgynous look.
…This doll must be pretty old.
You couldn’t help but think that.
Everything about it—the wood carving, the wig, the clothes—felt worn, cheap, and aged.
In places where the wood had been rubbed repeatedly, tiny splinters had even formed.
You touched your cheek.
The texture was rough.
Where your eyes should be, there was only crude paint.
Curved strokes like crescent moons, painted in an oil-brush style.
Below them—
two black dots.
Your eyes.
…Eyelashes?
Yeah, no.
That level of detail didn’t exist.
Right now, you looked eerily similar to Abel, who would appear later in the show (you don't know him though, explanation later).
Aside from the difference in size, you were practically a “mini version”—a chibi-like, big-headed, small-bodied model of him.
…Well.
Aside from the overly simplistic facial features, it wasn’t that bad?
You stared at your lifeless dot eyes for a moment.
Then realized—
you could make emoticon expressions.
…Haha.
Great.
That’s just fantastic.
You let out a dry laugh in your head.
You tapped your black plastic boots lightly against the ground.
After one last reluctant glance at the mirror, you decided to head back.
And then—
a flicker of reflection caught your eye.
Another pair of eyes.
“…?!”
You startled, your body jolting.
But it had been too fast.
You narrowed your eyes and looked again.
Carefully.
There was nothing.
Only a surreal painting hanging on the wall.
Colorful geometric shapes floated in strange configurations.
And—
beside a few cone shapes—
a pair of eyes.
…Part of the painting?
Just a built-in unsettling element?
You exhaled in relief.
Maybe too much had happened today.
You were getting jumpy.
You needed sleep.
Proper rest.
In front of the mirror, you rubbed your stiff wooden cheek.
It made a harsh creaking sound.
Your round wooden joints seemed to protest with exhaustion.
You were tired.
Really tired.
All of this—circus thing, everything—
you’d deal with it tomorrow.
You yawned.
Then turned and walked toward your room.
A few seconds later—
the Ringmaster appeared in that very spot.
Floating in midair.
Drifting slightly up and down.
And his eyes—
were exactly the same
as the ones in the painting.