Chapter Text
They had deleted Caine…
Killed him, as Kinger had put it. He’d lifted the bucket on his head when he admitted his gruesome mistake. Pomni wouldn’t forget the look in his eyes anytime soon. Vivid with horror, yet dull at the same time, speaking of realities that had yet to sink into his stunned, frazzled mind. Less the expression of someone who accidentally deleted a computer program, and more so that of a man who’d been frantic at the wheel, then took a real, human life for the price of his recklessness.
He could have spared himself so much pain if he just took advantage of the other perspective. After all, Caine really was a computer program, and that was how Kinger had spoken of him when he regained his lucidity in the cafe. Pomni didn’t understand what caused the change in how the programmer seemed to regard his creation. Maybe it was the guilt of destroying a being with any visible range of thought or feeling. Maybe it was something he’d seen in the code before accidentally making the command to delete Caine.
But she didn’t know, and she wouldn’t ask. If Kinger saw blood on his hands, then she owed it to him to share in the burden of that perceived crime. He hadn’t killed Caine. They had, all of them, no matter how unintentional it was, or justified, or even necessary. Caine had pushed them to extremes and forced their hand, but it was still an ugly weight that Pomni felt upon her shoulders.
Now, she wondered if her empathy for Kinger had driven her to a selfishness worse than if she’d just left him to deal with his misguided guilt all alone. Because she hadn’t fought his plan to bring Caine back. No matter how crazy or downright suicidal it was.
Not only did Kinger plan to bring back Caine via a backup, he planned to bring the AI back fully powered. Apparently there was no way around it if the ever-eroding Circus was going to be stabilized by the ringmaster’s return.
She knew there were other reasons than just the readily justifiable ones. He had explained that Caine’s creative capabilities were intimately intertwined with every aspect of his identity. From how he spoke of Caine’s powers, Pomni understood that bringing him back without his abilities would essentially be the same as plucking the wings from a butterfly. The image sickened her. So she let the other humans carry the effort of trying to convince Kinger to find a loophole, a way to even the playing field, and strip Caine of his powers. All to no avail.
The time had arrived that there was no turning back from Kinger’s decision, and Pomni stood by his side in every sense that she was able. The amount of faith she was placing in his ability to fix Caine’s code was absolutely ridiculous. But honestly, even if he’d spent seven seconds tapping away at the computer instead of seven whole days—the scraping edge of the amount of time the fraying world was inclined to give them—she knew her faith in him would’ve been the same. This wasn’t a matter of logic. It was a matter of trust. And she trusted that, as much as Kinger cared for his creation, he cared about everyone else too.
He knew what he was doing, and he would never put them in harm’s way. This definitely was not going to result in an eternity of endless torture for all them.
One of Pomni’s hands clutched Kinger’s, steady and firm in his warm grip…
The black silhouette of Caine’s avatar hung in the air like an omen of doom while his backup slowly loaded onto the Digital Circus’ physical plane.
…Pomni’s other hand trembled at her side. She couldn’t breathe. She hoped her face wasn’t turning ridiculous colors at this dire moment.
Then, quicker than quick, between one frame of the digital world and the next, the dark shape in the air was no longer an empty silhouette. There floated Caine, complete with all the rubbery textures and the sophisticated play of light and shadow that characterized his wacky three-dimensional avatar. A collective gasp felt in order, or a synchronized recoil at the sight of their omnipotent tormentor. Even just a swear from Zooble, censored or otherwise, would have felt so much more appropriate to the moment than the dumb, blank stare that they all had in common. Everyone was frozen. Nobody knew what to do or how to react. Instead, they left all that empty space for Caine to fill.
It was perhaps his most tortuous action against them to take so long to do just that.
At last, his eyes began to move. They flicked oddly, behaving more like glitches than conscious movements as he rapidly surveyed the greyscale world around him. Then they settled on the humans standing in a nervous bunch at his feet. When his eyes stilled, his avatar once again lost all sign of life. What had seemed to be a living avatar slowly turned into a dead husk in Pomni’s mind, to equal parts her relief and horror. She wondered what Kinger must be thinking if her hunch was correct. Here was his butterfly, with wings fully intact, but dead and pinned to the wall.
Pomni finally glanced at him. He looked sick. She took the first breath of the troupe, long and deep.
“Kinger,” she spoke. Then—as though the name itself delivered some kind of shock to the system of the entire Digital Circus—the greyscale world around them suddenly washed into vivid color. Pomni barely had time to process this before her ears rang with a familiar, booming voice.
“HELLLLLL-OOOO, my titular tangerines!” bellowed Caine, starfishing his limbs and cartwheeling in place.
A beat of silence.
“Your—your what?” Jax finally choked out.
“That’s not what titular means,” Zooble muttered to Jax. Despite the irritation in their voice, they sounded half-removed from the situation. Hesitantly, they added, “Dumb[BOINK!].” Pomni looked at Zooble in time to see them slouch, and she wondered if it was in relief or resignation. It seemed more like the latter. She wanted to feel sympathy, but right now, all of her emotions were distant and muddled. She felt a step behind her own body.
Color had returned to the circus, and every open wound in the fabric of the world had likewise been healed. Every trace of their impending demise was erased with an abruptness that felt more callous than comforting. And Caine, in true Caine fashion, wasn’t about to give them any time to process his return.
“AUDIBLE GASP!” the ringmaster exclaimed, slapping his hands to his teeth in an exaggerated display of surprise. “Here you all are, waiting for the next AMAZING adventure to busy your brains, hammer your hearts and stab your spleens—but I’ve been too busy not existing to cook anything up!!” He planted his hands on his hips and shook his head despairingly. “I can’t think of a more unprofessional thing for a ringmaster to do. Er…not do. My apologies.” He removed his top hat and pressed it to his chest. “That complete system reboot really snuck up on me. But now that it’s over, I feel like a new AI! By tomorrow, I’ll have whipped up an adventure memorable enough to make up for my temporary absence.” Caine stuck his hat back on his head and regarded them cheerfully, waiting for a response.
To Pomni’s surprise, it was Ragatha that spoke up before anyone else. “W-wait a minute,” she began tremulously. “What do you mean, complete system reboot—?”
But her shaky inquiry got completely steamrolled by Caine’s enthusiasm. “But for now!” he shouted and snapped his fingers. If he noticed the way the humans collectively flinched at the gesture then he showed no sign of it. Colorful letters appeared above his head, spelling out with obnoxious fanfare, CANDY CARRIER CALAMITY. “We’re doing a rehash! A sequel, as it were! Where everything is the same but you are now on the side of the bandits! Be careful to avoid capture by Princess Loolilalu and her guards. If she gets her sugary little hands on you, then your pops will get lollied!” The ringmaster chopped the empty air above his shoulders and let his head drop almost to the floor. His body fell limp in a way that looked too morbid for Caine’s usual slapstick humor. Then his head snapped back into place and he stared.
Beside Pomni, Kinger made an odd sound in his throat, and she realized what—who—he was staring at.
“Caine,” the chess piece ventured cautiously, tipping the bucket on his head as much as he dared. “What…do you…remember?” His words were stilted, traveling awkwardly over unknown terrain.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t remember, and that’s bucket hats making a bold comeback! Very chic,” Caine complimented with a thumbs up. “But eh…” he scratched his head, “it seems that right after The Favorite Character Awards, some important system updates finally caught me lacking! Lacking proper resource optimization protocols and security patches, that is! I’m afraid I was more or less offline until they were completed.”
“The Favorite Character Awards,” Kinger repeated slowly. His eyebrows furrowed beneath the rim of the bucket.
Caine planted his hands on his hips and nodded. “Thaaaaaaat’s right. That’s the last thing I remember.” He coughed. “I haven’t missed too much, have I?”
Pomni was at a complete loss for words.
“Um,” Gangle squeaked.
“Well…” Ragatha said, then let her voice fall into oblivion.
Jax laughed, the kind that spoke of resentment more than humor.
“Oh, man,” Zooble sighed.
Caine’s attention snapped to them with terrifying speed. He opened the portal directly in front of their mismatched feet. “Will you be joining the adventure today, Zooble?”
The toybox character in question visibly stiffened. “Uh—I mean…[BOINK!]. Do I even…have the option…?”
“Well I can’t force you to go, can I?” Caine laughed, rolling his eyes like the very prospect was ridiculous. He casually twirled his cane and emulated the demeanor of someone who couldn’t care less what Zooble decided.
That of all things appeared to unsettle Zooble the most. “Yeah, no,” they said, and for a split second Pomni thought they were actually refusing. Then they grabbed Gangle’s ribboned hand and hurried into the portal with the meeker woman in tow. Taking them both out of Caine’s immediate sight.
“Wait,” Pomni said, finally finding her voice when the remaining humans reluctantly shuffled toward the portal. She held up her hands like she could physically halt the bizarre progression of events. “We’re not actually…going to keep going on adventures, are we? Like nothing even happened!”
Ragatha offered an apologetic look before ducking anxiously into the adventure after Zooble and Gangle. Then Jax shoved past her with force that actually knocked her closer to the portal. His hands were clasped behind his head and he walked with cool, cocky steps. When he turned to face her he wore a smile that stretched across his face. “That’s right, nothing even happened. Remember?” His pupils were nearly pinpricks. He gestured to the portal with a thumb. “C’mon Pom Pom. Don’t you want to say hi to your alligator boyfriend?”
She didn’t want to see Gummigoo again. Not after the ringmaster’s bastardization of him tried to rip her to pieces. Jax didn’t even know about that. None of them had shared their final moments of torment. He was genuinely trying to lure her with something she would like. But ironically, his failed attempt at enticing her was exactly what made her decide to follow him. Because, as horrible as this adventure was going to be for her, she couldn’t imagine being alone in the Big Top with Caine right now. Even if he didn’t remember torturing her, or any of them.
“His memories…they’ve degraded?” Kinger muttered beside her, briefly losing himself in thought. “But that doesn’t…I could’ve sworn I didn’t—”
“Hey.”
The chess piece startled and glanced at Pomni’s hand that rested on his robe. Worry lines were visible beneath his eyes. Pomni smiled gently at him. “The last time we did this adventure. I remember you liked the butterflies.”
Kinger stared at her for a long moment before looking up at Caine. Pomni followed his gaze and was surprised to see the ringmaster facing away from them. As though to give them privacy. Of all the crazy things that had happened so far, privacy from Caine would have to be at the top of the list.
“…Okay,” Kinger said, sounding perturbed even as resignation seeped into his voice. He chuckled softly, letting the bucket fall over his eyes. “Yes. I suppose it might be nice to…fully appreciate them this time.” He accepted Pomni’s hand in his and followed her where she led him. Jax, satisfied that she was coming, disappeared into the portal’s swimming colors.
Right before they entered the portal, Kinger halted, tugging Pomni to a stop beside her. “Caine,” he said quietly. “It’s good to see you again. I’m…”
Kinger hesitated.
“I’m sorry.”
Then their roles were abruptly reversed, with Kinger walking steadily forward and Pomni being pulled along after him. She caught one last glimpse of Caine before the portal swallowed the Big Top from view. He remained floating with his back turned to her, hiding whatever expression he had on his face. His arms were flat against his sides. It was almost imperceptible, but Pomni could see it.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
The ringmaster’s hands were shaking.