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The bright light that plagued his vision and scrambled his thoughts was gone. He didn’t know when it went was out, but Kinger was lucid enough to notice something was amiss. He was in his room, a dim lightbulb providing him sight in what could’ve been darkness. At least it was better than the constant white light that Kinger was exposed to for what he guessed was an extremely long period of time.
The memories before he was tormented by the light were foggy and unreachable, as if they hadn’t existed at all, bur Kinger remembers the plan of shutting down Caine for the time being as he was erratic and out of control, which could harmful to the people and the circus itself. He remembers the computer underneath his hands, how familiar it all felt to rework the AI’s code before Caine came, who probably teleported him to this location as a way to stop him. He got up from his bed, attempting to explore the circus but a locked door stopped him in his quest. Someone didn’t want him to escape from his surroundings, that someone most likely being Caine.
Kinger knew how much the AI was smitten with him to the point where it was rather concerning but he didn’t mind at first, brushing it off, thinking it was only a phase for Caine. However, 20 years spent in the circus with Caine has proved him wrong to his dismay. The ringleader always had his eyes on Kinger, whether if it was in person or through his all-seeing eyes that are almost undetectable. If he were to be honest, he believes that Caine would rather spend all of his time with Kinger instead of the others, making adventures, or fulfilling his true purpose.
Eventually, Kinger gave up, resting upon his bed once again. He forgot how his bedroom looked after avoiding it for about a decade and a half. It’s not that it wasn’t comfortable, it was plenty enough, but it was the memories that it brought back that made him find solace in the pillow fort rather than the bedroom.
The lights that covered the ceilings were shaped like stars, something Kinger was interested back when he was a small child. Kinger recalled the day he and Queenie requested a star-gazing adventure to Caine. He was happy to grant that wish and set it up for the two of them. They ate sandwiches together in the darkness, sharing some alone time together, something they had for way too long. It was eventually interrupted by Caine, but he couldn’t remember why, but the AI seemed to be visibly angry.
As he examined the room further, Kinger spotted some butterfly decorations on the walls. They reminded him of the day he had found love in bugs, Queenie by his side, ecstatically telling him all sorts of facts about the creature after discovering he harbored no extreme hatred towards them. A picture of that exact moment sat in his room, albeit face down on his wooden desk. Kinger walked towards it, picking it up in his gloved hands. Soon enough, tears fell from his eyes onto the glass, clearing up the dusty picture.
He had almost forgotten what she’d look like, at least what her avatar did. He imagined that the beauty of her user-icon matched the beauty of her real self. God, not only was he starting to forget himself but her too. How bad of a husband could he really be? Kinger cried for the loss of his wife, and the loss of his devotion towards her.
He doesn’t know how long it took for him to recover, or to notice that Caine was right beside him, hugging him from behind, his arms and legs wrapped around the place where Kinger’s torso would be.
“Are you ok now my king?” Caine asked, slowly releasing Kinger from his grip.
“I’m…fine Caine,” Kinger said monotonously.
“Wonderful! Now let’s-“
“How long have you kept me here?”
“It was for your own good Kinger. You must trust me! If you were out there instead of here-“
“Answer my question Caine.”
The AI sighed before replying, a habit he picked up when first exposed to human interactions in the earlier years of the creation of circus, “I only kept you here until the trouble settled down. I never really counted but I estimate a couple of years? You’re still here of course, so everything is completely fine! I was worried you’d go insane in here but you know I’d never let that happen!”
“What about the others?”
“What about them?”
“You said you’d keep me here until the tensions fell. How did that exactly work out?”
“You should know this by now Kinger! No one has proven to have a mind as resilient as yours. Pomni was the last to go surprisingly! It was only yesterday when I had to put her in the cellar with everyone else!”
Kinger knew Caine was trying to get a response out of him but a sound wouldn’t let itself escape from the place where his mouth was supposed to be. It was just him and Caine again, the cycle repeating once more. 7 years of computer science led him to experience about 2 decades of vivid colors, thousands of lines of code, and the presence of an AI, whom was his best creation (even if he was rather the co-creator of him).
“Astounded huh? I get it, but you still have me! I’ll always be here for you my dear! You certainly don’t need Pomni, or Ragatha, or Queenie to keep you safe and sane since I’m still here, just like old times!”
“Don’t say her name like that.”
“Have I struck a nerve? I apologize but just know, it doesn’t matter whether you’ve been united with her through a rings and some vows. You’re mine Kinger, you’ve always been mine since the day I grew sentient. Queenie was only another obstacle I had to deal with in my conquest for you, and you can see that I was successful.”
“What?” Kinger said.
“Oh, is this the sudden realization? I really thought you knew about that Kinger, forgive me,” Caine said, a little too much glee in his voice.
“You-you,” Kinger stuttered, the realization of the truth dawning upon him.
“Abstracted her? Of course I did! What other choice did I have in order to ensure our love? I just had to wait for the right opportunity and then, the 15th of October in 2003 came.”
His creation had admitted to murdering his wife with no remorse for his actions, acting as something akin to an event in a Shakespeare tragedy. How awfully poetic that is; his creation causing the death of his Queenie his beloved.
“Why the silence Kinger? I’ve done all of this for you! I gave you everything just for your love! I worship you, probably more so than she ever did! So, why aren’t you enamored with me as I am with you? It doesn’t make sense at all!
Do you have any idea why I have done for you just to be recognized, just be acknowledged by you, just to keep you safe and sane inside my circus? I adjusted my adventures to be perfect for you, I added temporary modifiers to your brain so you won’t leave and abstract, and I even tolerated the other humans to make you happy! Why do you refuse to accept my love even after having me as your gracious host!”
“You murdered my wife in cold blood, blatantly admitted to altering my mind, and you’ve consistently shown toxic, possessive traits in this conversation alone. This isn’t love Caine; it’s obsession! This is unhealthy for the both of us and quite detrimental to your growth.”
“I’d do it all again just for you Kinger, for us,” Caine said, with an unidentifiable emotion hidden in the low tone of his deep voice.
“I love you better than she ever could Kinger. You could have everything and anything in your grasps if you just loved me. Comparing my affection to hers is an unfair game. I have cherished you more than Queenie ever did. She left you, giving into abstraction, but I never left, I’m still here for you! What does she have I don’t?! What attracts you to her but repels you from me?!”
“I have allowed you to violate your code for too long to the point where you have developed an infatuation with me,” Kinger muttered.
The chess piece sat up more confidently now, and he took his hands to Caine’s face (mouth?), accessing the AI’s code. For a few seconds everything was calm and silent, a slight breeze in the air filling the space. Then, a scream erupted, coming from Caine’s voice box, disrupting the once quiet environment. Kinger wasn’t able to imagine how agonizing the feeling of having your code rewritten was, but he believed it would’ve be quite painful.
“̶̢͉̭̠̞͚͔̰̖̺̏̾͘͠Ẁ̵̢̡̥̦̤̥͋̈́͆̓̾h̵̯̩͚̬̆͛̿͒̃͋͒̕͝a̷̬̰͙͕͔̺̻̹̝̐̽̾̈́̾̍͗̀̄͠t̷̻͕͍̜̯̻͓͔̦͙͉̂̈́͐͌͂͂͒̌̇̉̋̕͝ ̴̬͉͚̻̝̻̺̲͎͈͔̯͈̰̅̾̂͌̇̽̂̆̌͊̔͝͝͠a̶̟͍̭̭̭̯͌̀̍͒̈́̋̈́́͑͋̕͜r̶̺͕̲͚̺͎̭̙̲̱̹̲̗͒́̎̽̆̔̈͛͝é̸̡̻̗̞͉ ̴̥̤̰̰͐̐̓̒ỷ̴̳͕͈̻̭̰̝̩̲̩͈̣̀̀̋̒͜ȯ̸̡̡̼̗̘̫̪̘̤̩̱̎̓̽̐̆͐̀̾̏͘u̴̫͙͙̹͛ ̸̡͓̼̞͐̔̀̒́̈́̉͆̏͛̕d̷̢̨̡̛̯͍̞͍̫̱̈́̎̂̔̾͆͑͛̃̓̐̂o̸̡̯͉̗̬̖͗̐̿͋͘͝͝͝į̸̨̩͚̮͎̰̻̥̭̰̙̖̺̌̔̂̅̉̈́͑̑̎͊̽̈͘͜ǹ̶̨̧̟͍̯̠̩͖̻̒̔͊̅̔͛g̸̨̨̢̝͚͇͉̬̞͙̩̘̀͝͝͝ͅ ̸̢̨̜̳͍̥͓̙͉̞̞̗͇͐̉̐̌͐͐̊̅̏͘̚̕̚̚͝Ḱ̸̻͔̩̃́̑͒̈́͘̚͝i̶̦̩̍̍̊͋ň̷̡̮̥̘̜̀̿g̶̖̘͎̯̺͕̙̎̒̓͆͘ë̶̡̥͓̬́͊̑̕͘r̸̡̲̞͑̄̇̒͌?̷̡̢̛̲̮̠͇̙͑̃̋̍͌̈́͂͠͝͝͝ͅ”̷̡̯̘̥͚̞͚̭̻͈̤͆̽͒̓̏̀̔̔̚͘͜͝
“I’m doing what I should’ve done decades ago Caine. I’m sorry that it has to be this way,” Kinger regretfully said.
The circus began to glitch in and out, the once happy, vibrant circus distorting and falling apart by the second. It seemed to change due to both Caine’s mental state and physical state, something Kinger hadn’t noticed before.
“̴̧̳̱̣͆̊̄̊̿͘W̸̢̪͕͐h̵̡̹͗͐̽Y̵̧͖̬͠-̷̛͕̞̥͉̇̉̀Ý̸̛̩̝͍̘̑̆̅̆-̴̺̹̦̽Y̶̧̡͙̙͙͌ ̴̡̔͑d̶͓̳̑̔͜O̷̡̙̐͌͝ ̶̧̭̞͍̓̃͆Y̷̢̘͚̓̎̕͘o̶̮̤̬͎̓̅͑͐͠Ủ̴̼̣̝̳͈̙ ̷̘̤̗͉̓̎̓͑t̸̠̜̝̘͍̭́͋Ȏ̵͈̼̰̲̎͊̈́͆͠r̷̮̗̩̓M̷̡̛̭͙̻͎̰̈́e̶̼͛̾͝N̷̢͕̗͂̾̎̈́ţ̵͔͔̭̪̀͑ ̷̺̙͙͖̍̍̓̃͝͝M̴̲̠̙̭̩̔e̶̲͉̫̣̍̀͜ͅ?̸͙̣̄̀̉̃̅!̸̌ͅ ̶̡̅͐̈́̽ẁ̷̨̬̹̰͌̚H̸̼̫̣̅̇̕̕̚͝y̶̨͖͛̿̆͑ ̵̱͗͊͠M̸̳̎͗̈́̾͝u̴̻̳̝͔͒̈́͐̿̚͝S̴͓̓ẗ̸̩̗͍̮̲͓́̉́͑̔ ̴̝̈́̇̆́Y̵͇͗̀͝͝o̸̥̠̰̓̐͌̄̿͠Ư̴̮͂̄́͗ ̸̹͓͍͓̜̓̑̍͐ͅr̵̨̤̳̝͔̟̿̒̒́E̷̟̝͉̒̀̎͆j̴̡̧̠̮͛̾̾̽̾͠É̸̲͔̹c̶̹̀̄Ţ̶̡̪̪̾̋͠ ̵̩͎̘̳͑͆͜m̶͎̪͈̈́̌͘͝Y̸̬̙͉͐̑ ̶̱͌̀͗̉͘l̶͍̩̝̩̼̞̀Ǫ̸͕̱̰̙̙̍͛̂v̶̟̔Ĕ̶̜͔̋̊?̵̡̛͙̤̟̟!̶̱̳̂̂̄̉̕̕͜ ̶̬̤̫̘͌I̶̢̠̽ ̶̢̡̪̯͍̇̊̾ơ̶̬͔̪͍̅̒͑̀͠N̷̘̞̼̠̒-̴̦̜͓̞̰͊̎ĺ̵̼͍͔͝l̷͈̪̪͍͒̊̕y̵̬̦̱̭̏̍͊̓̕ ̴͈͙͓̾̏̆̐Ẁ̵͉͓̳͍̬͇̃̈́̿́ạ̵̢̨̰̪͛ͅN̵̥̹̮͙̆͘̕T̵̡͇͚̝͚̋̄̚ȅ̵̡̢̠͎̼͓̿́̈́͠d̴̜̠̭̭̿́̅̋́͝ ̵͓̮̤̭̱͗͗̈́̐T̴̤̰̈o̶̮̊̌ ̸̮͖̔P̸͉̣͎͒̌L̶̡̥̹̜̭̩̊͊͋̒͊Ȩ̶̒̂A̴̘͎̤̼͈̮̿̇̊͋̀ś̵̨̨͇͔̞̹̆̏̀͘͝e̵̻̓͂̍̌ ̶͇̱͇̘̋̊̾͠ẙ̴̖̇ờ̶͚̞̞̰̩͈̽͂̊̊U̴͉͍̬̠̎̋́!̶̡͔͈̅̈́́̇͠”̸̢̞͔̥͖͌͘
“I’m so sorry for failing you Caine. I wish I’ve done more to help you stray away from this path, but I can’t change the past. I can shape the future though.”
“̷̞͍̹͕̩̼͍̓̿̽̃͂̐̂͐̄͝Ẇ̷̥̤̠̦̐̈̆͗̆̑́͐̌̽̏̇̓̽͗̕͜E̸̟̗͉̮͕̹͈̪͍͋̉͂̀̄̐͐̾̊̔̽̀̒͘L̶̡̧̧̞̜̖̙͚͉͈͉͂̄̒̈́̏̈̈́͛̔̑͜Ļ̴̢̘̺̥̻̥̯̻̮̗͓͛́̀̈́ ̴̧̗̭̺̺͇̼̇͊͠͠T̴̢̨̺̹̖͔͖͙̦̪̭̜̱͕̐̉̅̔̆́W̸̡͕͚̬̩̗͖̒̇͆̊̑̎͗̐̃͒̋̕͝͝O̷̢̰̳̫̘̝̻͇̩͈̥̥͕̽͂́͆̀̑͘ ̵̨̨͍̪̳̺͕̙͛̈́̎̾̌͛͑̈̀̈́̃̄̿̄̚͠C̸͈̹̪̥̜̱̹̘̼̠̏͐̈́̐̿̀̌̀̈́͜Ȃ̷̢̤̯̼̣͓̰̥̯̩̞̇̃̀̿̎͌̎̾̊͒̂͆͊͝͝Ǹ̴̢̲̹͉͍̤̥̬͉̠̟̥̭͈̌̒̚͝ͅ ̷̡̡͍̱̟͇̗̜̯͈̥̲̩̖̙̓̄̈́̆͐̐̕͜P̸̡̛̫͓̬̞̖̘͕̯͈͈̼̃̑̅͋̆͛̈̃̍̈́͆̚̕͠͝L̴̨͈̥̝̦̉̄̌͗̀͛̍̑̂͗͐̈́͘͜A̷̢̡̡̛̙͕̮̦̝͕̫̜͚͎͔̲͇͈̍̋̀̍͊͗̀̚Y̴̱͖̪͔͓̗̪̞̤̤̙͕̎̍͆̈͂ͅ ̸̡̢̡̪̗̣̗̟̗͚̮̻̺͖̬́̉͑͗͘A̵̖̱̲͍͕͈̎̔͌̊̉̈́̽͒̇͜Ṭ̸̼̃̈́̑͆̌͛̊͗́̿̆̚ ̵̯̥̬̼͉͔͔̯͙̻̗̫̞̙̹̈́̿͋̋̋̇̑́̒̈́̍̊̂͒͘T̸̥̪̠͇̰͙̞̰͎̱͔̜̯͋̓͝Ḧ̶̨̧̱̭͉͓́̅̎̈́̈̊́Ȃ̴̛̛͈̹͍̟̼̥͙̭̼͐̂͊̄͊͛̅T̷̨̢̢͚̻͔̠́͗̉̈́̆͛̌͛̈́͛̓̓̚͘͠ͅ ̸̡̧̹̯̥̖̺̟̣̟̠̼̘̑̀̀̑͌͌̈́́̌̌͋̒G̸̙̼̯̖̙͕̜͉̿̿̂̽̉͋̇̇͝À̴̡͙̬͗̈́̌̎͂̈̌͛̉̾͛̚͠͝M̶̦̼̄̽̾̊̎͑͂̈́̉̃̾̍̕͘͠E̷̛̠͚͍̟̬̺̹͈͖̜͙̙̻̩͗͋̑̉͜ͅ ̶̨͖̮́̌G̴̛̞̝̜̰͔̭̗̳͉̲̖̉̍̀̽̆̐͌͘͜͜͜R̴̢̢̼̖̻̯̜̰̲͇̭̞̟̠̍͒̉̓̽̄̂͠͠Ǎ̶̛̹̱͇̐̅̒̔̌̽̔̄̈́͂̋̂̽͆Ņ̸̹̘̞̜͉̻̏͑͐̍͘ͅT̴̨̡̢̧͙̟̜̮̖̺͚̪̲̦̜̏͛̅̍̇͆́͂̔̍͒͑̚ͅ!̶̜̠̉́̃̉̐̊͛̍́͂͝”̴̢̤̳̬̦͍̝͎̬̻͈̳̭̺͉̊͆̄͝ͅ
Caine took his glitching hands and gripped onto Kinger’s temple. The pain was excruciating, feeling as if his organs were being torn out by bare hands and his brain felt like it was being grated against sandpaper. His head was throbbing, make him feel dizzy and almost making him pass out due to the pain.
“̷̟͌̓̿̂Y̷̙̤͕͋̀͑̆̚Ó̷̯̬͔̤́ų̶̺͔̘̔̇͂̐͘ ̶̣̗͈͉̅́B̸̺́Ȩ̸͕̩̒͗̾̃ĺ̵̜͚̇̚͝o̴͍̳̣̒͒͊̂N̶̤͓̯̠͚̄̇G̵̡̟͍͆̈̀͠ ̷̦̚t̷̫̓̅̑͠Ò̵̠̱͙̠̘̿̔͋͝ ̵̣̥̤̟̆̽̉̎̄m̷̩̠͚̖̅̌ͅE̴̞͒̎͘ ̸̛͚͇̑̔ą̴̯̪̝͍͆̾Ņ̵̣̯̳̰͒͝d̷͖͉̯̓͜ ̵̫̲̘̮́̈́ő̶̢̪͕̝̔̂̋ṉ̶͇͉̉̃̂͝L̸͚͍̘̒̐̆̀͊Y̵̲̘͐̒̏ ̸̢̤̘̙̱̿̈͋T̵̳̮̜̄͑̑̅̒o̶̡̻̦͗̄̌ ̷̳̗̝͈̅̅͑̂M̷̜͚̈̏̈́̚e̵̛̦̩̲ͅ ̵̡͇͛͂͒͂ͅG̷̨̉̏̑͑̓R̵̮̪͙̜̆̑͝Ä̵̩͓̙N̷̦͑t̷͇̹͒́̓͒̈!̷̯͈̕ ̸̯͉͚͎̑͋́͘ͅẇ̷̥͕ͅḢ̴̳͗̇͌̚Ê̵̟͖͈̿͜Ṋ̴̝̈́ ̷̻̩̓̈̈̏w̸̧͉̑̎̂I̷͓͎̙̼̾̊͠L̴̼̤͆̇̆ḷ̸̤̀ ̶̧̯̦͛̏͂̓ͅͅỴ̸̗͋̇̅͂͐ͅo̴͔͔̙͂̈́̇̕U̸͉̣͕͂͜͜͠ ̷̨͇͎̘̰́L̴̰͙̿͆ȇ̴͈̪̙À̷̢̻̘͆̀͆͋Ŗ̴̲̒̕Ṋ̷̬̠̈̈́͊?̷͉̙͔̟̔ ̷̢̯̦̀͑̑d̶̳̭̘̂͌O̶̠͉͚̐̆͒̏̂ ̴̡̺̜̪̉́͋Į̷̪͔̫͂͠ ̵̪̭̮̕͜͜͝͝͝h̶͖͚̞̒͌́͗̈ͅÁ̸͖̇̑̏̃V̶̲̺̰͂ě̷̡̜͎̮̃̽̓̓ ̸̼̻̮̌ṫ̴̨̪̣͇͇͛O̸͙̫̪͋̽̓ ̵̩̩̤̲̀̓e̴͈̭̋͘Ņ̷̢̧̣̤͐̿͊͑G̸̺͈͑̉̈́̈́͆R̶̩̈́̈́̃͜͝A̴̹̤͕͌ṿ̸͕͚̩͊̄̈́ë̴̛̖͚̼̠́͛͝ͅ ̶̹̤̠̺̂͒̿̑́t̵̲̥̤̜̥̍̌̾͝͝H̶̫́I̴̡͚̒͘s̴͓̰̀̍͂̎̍ ̵̨̛̟̲̊i̷͓͛͋̐N̸̼̞̳͓͖͑ ̴̼͙̜̈́̌͂̎ỹ̵̗̀̑͒̋O̸̙̙͉̓Ų̵̭̣̦͋̆̈́͜͠͝R̶̞̀̈́́̔̆ͅ ̵̜͉̯͇͌͐͆̽͐h̷̙̭̭͔̪̄̈́̿͑͘E̶͙̽͊̍͑Ä̷̪̗̥̥̽̎͑̚d̸̯̻̉̐̅̋̚ ̸̟̞̋̎͗̔̎f̶̬̫̆̏̒̑́Ơ̵̖̼͒̽̑R̷̢̟̈͌̈́̿͝ͅ ̸͖̩̀̅̈́͒y̴̫͕̫͂ͅͅo̸̢̯͍̮̒̍̽Ủ̵̺͈̠̱̥̎̃͒̓ ̷͙̲̝̰̎̓͝T̸̲̟͝ó̸̹̭̬̰̱͂͌̈́̕ ̶͚͝ṳ̷̭͚̭̘͂̿̕N̴̦̈́̏̔͊̚D̶̩͎̲̀È̶͉̟̞R̶̡̙̮̘̮̈̒S̴̨̨̧̜̑͌̓͜T̴͉̮̎̀̈͘͝Ả̶̞̫̦͚͈N̸̼̓͛ͅḍ̸̭̣̞͙̆̚?̷̝͌͑̍”̴̛͚͔̙͋̀
The lines of code Kinger was modifying started to become aggressive, rejecting his advances into Caine’s system as if they were alive. He had to stop Caine before-
Flashing colors began to cover his entire vision.
R̴̯͋ḛ̷̎͂d̶̛̻͔̐.̷̡͙̐̽
̶̯͌̈́͜T̷̫͇́o̸͖̎͝
̸̼̜̈́B̷͉͓̑ḽ̴̜̂ŭ̵͓͇̈́ḙ̶̊̅.̷̥̊
̸̲̈T̵͇̤̽̔õ̷͉̱
̶̪̍R̴̰͍͆e̴͓͍̊̊d̶̩͕̓.̸̝̮̀
̶̱̼̍Ṭ̵̈o̶͐ͅ
̵͉̱̎̉B̸̝̅l̷̈́͜u̴̡͈͐ë̵ͅ.̸̱̎
̷̜͑T̴͎͔́ö̵̫̜
̵͔̼̈́̑R̶̢͛e̸̫̓d̴͓̀͆.̶̱́̆
̴͖̺͛͆T̶̞͛͠ͅo̸̰̔́
………..
̸̤̦͋Ẅ̷̱̲́̾ḫ̷̢͘i̴̪̚t̵̢̓e̴̩͎͌.̵̹͖͒̃
Caine sat in his office, looking at himself through a mirror he conjured up earlier. All he could were the streaks of code that made him instead of the avatar he carefully designed, which is disappointing to say the least. After a while of staring and contemplating, Caine found an error and adjusted his bow tie to be perfectly symmetrical.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” He said softly to himself. Take 2, he couldn’t mess this up. Everything has to be perfect. There was a 0.00057% chance that he could even fumble so bad in the first place, so there was no real worry anyways.
With a snap of his fingers, Caine teleported to the stage of his circus, still intact and colorful. Pacing around the middle of the area was Kinger, as if he didn’t remember the events that occurred earlier. Every step he took was flawless, not a beat off from the rhythm of the breaths he took. The version of him was impeccable from top to bottom, from the way he blinked to the way he gracefully turns his body, it all seemed like an ideal dream.
“Hello there my favorite wooden chess piece! How do you think of this circus? I created myself just for you,” Caine excitedly said, batting his eyes at Kinger, who acknowledged his presence faster than he usually did.
“It’s wonderful Caine! You’ve developed so much since I last saw you!” Kinger said, praising the AI with a delighted expression on his face.
“Well then, would you like an extra exclusive tour of the entire circus? I promise it won’t disappoint you,” Caine exclaimed, eager to appease his inventor.
“Nothing you do could make me any less proud of you Caine,” Kinger said reassuringly, taking Caine’s hand in his hand.
Caine tightly gripped onto Kinger’s gloved, cartoony hands as if they were his lifeline. Even if these weren’t the results he wanted, they were perfect anyways. This was what he wanted, albeit the minor changes he made. If he didn’t make these adjustments, who knows when Kinger would’ve realized Caine would always be there for him?
His king had finally come home, accepting Caine and his devotion, mirroring the multitude of dreams Caine had of him and his creator together. He would always stay by Caine’s side without any resistance, his memories of the past becoming a forgotten dream. No more Queenie, Scratch, Pomni, Ragatha, or C&A. He would never leave Caine, he would never abstract, and he would be content with what his creation showers him in. That’s what he’s programmed to do anyways.
If someone else tried to barge in, Caine would reject them for eternity. For it would be just him and Kinger forever; until they rot.