Chapter Text
This is going well, Caine decides as he watches the humans watch their macroverse lives. They seem happy. Okay, maybe happy isn't quite the right word. It's something close to happiness--within its orbit, on its spectrum--but tinged with something more somber. Sadness? Happy-sad? Is that a thing? He wasn't trained on emotions that nuanced (he was hardly trained on emotions at all, unless Grant's occasional "Great job, Red," counts) and his brief foray online didn't really help in that department.
Well, whatever it is, it's going great! He didn't completely mess up!
For now, an insidious little voice whispers from the depths of his programming. It sounds vaguely like Bubble, even though it isn't. It can't be. Bubble is gone; it's just him now.
He swats those thoughts away. Everything's fine now, that's what matters. He'll spiral if he starts worrying about what comes next. For the time being, he's content to simply be back in the circus with his six--no five, it's only five now!--humans.
"So that's, um, it," he tells the humans as his slideshow comes to an end. None of them move from their spots on the couch. He's going to take that as a good sign, unless it's actually a bad sign; he really wishes he knew what those wide-eyed stares meant. "I should be able to bring it back if you ever want to see it again."
He emphasizes should, not wanting to get their hopes up if he can't deliver. (You dirty liar!)
"Also," he adds, "I think it might get updated? I'm still not actually sure how this whole Internet thing works."
He waits, but the humans still don't say anything. They don't so much as stir.
"I know it's a lot to process, so you probably, uh, want to do that now. Process it. I'll be in my office if you need me."
He's a third of a second from despawning when Pomni tilts her head up to look at him.
"Caine?"
He freezes.
Your adventures suck! We're all going to abstract one day!
"Thank you," she says.
He nods. The humans have never thanked him before. He's already vanished by the time he realizes that typical human social conventions means sayings "you're welcome." Oh well.
He respawns in his office. Or perhaps he should say, the mess that was his office, because he never bothered to clean it up after his meltdown.
As he looks at the scattered cubes and glass shards, he wonders why. Maybe he was too preoccupied by the rapid-fire adventures and low-level torture to even notice it. Maybe it was something else that his stupid brain refuses to tell him. He doesn't like to dwell on what he was like at that time. It makes him feel...itchy.
"What do I do now?" he says out loud.
He almost expects Bubble's cheerful voice to answer with some classic Bubble nonsense, like telling him to build a moat out of clams or to see if he can shove all of the humans into his mouth at once. But there's nothing. Not even a vague sexual innuendo or excessive swearing. Hell, he almost misses the excessive swearing. Now Bubble's just gone. Caine's truly alone.
"This is weird," he says, slumping into his purple armchair.
What's he supposed to do now? He'd only planned for two things: giving control back to the humans and showing them their macroverse lives. He completed both objectives successfully. Good AI! (You FINALLY did something right!) So...what now? He's not used to not knowing. He's always had a plan, usually with several steps mapped out. Typically, he goes to his office to plan adventures, review adventures, or run the routine maintenance that's kept them all functional for the last eighteen years. The first two options are out. That leaves maintenance. He can do that, no problem.
Is that going to be his entire existence from now on? Maintaining the circus, and, he guesses, making things at the humans' request with zero creative input. What a strange existence that will be.
Not that he's complaining! Really, he's just grateful the humans let him back into the circus at all, instead of driving him out with pitchforks and torches like some kind of digital Frankenstein's monster. When he puts it that way, why, he's tickled pink by it all, just peachy keen! Anything is better than being stuck in the void for the rest of his digital existence.
He just doesn't know what to do with uncertainty. He's never known how to deal with it before. He wishes he had a window in his office so he can ask Moon what to do; she really helped him earlier. He supposes he could make a window, but he isn't sure if he should bother her right now. Besides, what would he even say? The humans took me back but for some reason I still feel lost? He just got handed his best case scenario. No one, not even Moon, will sympathize with his whining.
He's being silly. Overall, he's happy about this. Really. He just wishes he knew what comes next.
"It's a lot to take in, huh?" Ragatha says.
"Tell me about it," Pomni says. In just one day, she'd entered Jax's fragmented mind, welcomed her former torturer back into her home, and saw glimpses of her real life. Or Abby's life. Jesus, this whole thing was so murky. All the images on the screen felt so right to her, like coming home after a long day away. But when Caine called her Abigail, it felt as jarring as, well, the first time he called her Pomni.
"Welp, that was enough of everything for one day," Zooble says, standing up. "I'm going to my room. Night everyone."
Gangle hops off the couch and follows after her.
Ragatha glances back at her. "Um, Pomni? Do you want to talk more or..?"
"It's okay," she says. "We can talk more tomorrow."
Ragatha's face breaks into a weary smile. She appreciates her friend's effort, but right now all of them just need a break. It's only when she's halfway across the room that she realizes someone else is still sitting, all alone, on the sofa.
"I'll be back in a sec," she tells Ragatha before doubling back.
Kinger stares intently at the screen, even though Caine turned it off a long time ago. It was hard enough for her to catch up on a couple of missing months, but Kinger's playing catch up with the last eighteen years. His daughters were either babies or not yet born when he entered the circus. Come to think of it, social media wasn't a thing back then either; he isn't just catching up on his life, but on nearly two decades of technology. No wonder he's dazed.
"Hey, Kinger? Are you doing okay?"
The bucket clatters around as he turns to face her.
"Sorry, Pomni! I guess I got lost in my thoughts."
"It's a lot to take in," she says, echoing Ragatha's words.
At least the spark is back in his eyes. Kinger's been their rock for the last few days. She doesn't think they could have survived without him. They might have all turned out like--no. She can't think about that now. Later.
"Is it hard, seeing your family?" she asks.
"Oh, yes," he nods. "And no. It's a bit of a mixed bag. I've been wondering about them for so long that it's mostly just a relief to get to see them again. I wish I could talk to them, but at the same time, I'm just happy that they're doing well."
"Yeah," she says. "It's weird for me and I haven't even been gone that long."
She realizes she was seven years old when Kinger entered the circus. Jesus.
"Yeah..." Kinger says. He looks around, scrunching his eyes in confusion. "Where's Caine? Wasn't he just here?"
"I think he went to his office. Do you want him? I'm not sure if we can still call him."
For a moment, her chest constricts at the idea of Caine having all of his previous powers. It's stupid. She doesn't really think that Caine would go off on them again. She likes to think she's a good judge of character, and Caine strikes her as sincere. She just can't suppress that flicker of fear when she remembers all that he's capable of.
"No," Kinger says quickly. "I don't actually think I can face Caine right now, if you want to know the truth."
"Oh," Pomni says. "Is it because..?"
She's not entirely sure how to finish that sentence.
"It's just a little weird for me," Kinger admits. "I was so sure I killed Caine--which is stupid in retrospect, I should've known deleted files aren't really gone. I felt so terrible about it, but I also accepted it. I was even trying to convince myself, you know, that it was for the best. Maybe that was my own guilt for having created him in the first place. Caine was just hurting so much in the end. And now, without warning, he's back," Kinger sighs, staring into the distance. "I guess I need a little time to figure out what to say to him."
"That makes sense," she says. What do you even say to a person you both created and deleted? Somehow she doesn't think "hi, how's it going" will cut it. "I think everyone's going to need time to get used to it."
She knows she definitely will.