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Restoring the circus was a tumultuous task. One that Kinger frankly didn't think was possible.
Especially following Jax's sudden abstraction, the group's resolve was being tested considerably these past however many days since Caine's…
But just like with the harrowing revelation that they were mere digital uploads of the real them - who were out there, unaware of their digital counterparts as they lived their best lives out in the real world - the remaining group was able to pick themselves back up and work to make this place as close to home as they could. Together.
It was… an admirable thing to witness after simply standing by idle for so long.
If only they had that kind of strength since the beginning.
Once Jax had been pacified and the others had gotten the hang of conjuring, many additions were quickly added to the now blank slate that was the circus.
Zooble had created a bar, a little something from the outside world. They'd also learn to fully embrace their parts; it wasn't uncommon to see Zooble strutting around with four arms.
Gangle had decided to create a permanent memorial for the past inhabitants of the circus. A mural by the stage. It was coming together nicely with Zooble's help.
Ragatha, with Kinger's help, created many cozy spots around the circus. From a kitchen to a sunroom, to even importing the Big Top's stadium into the circus grounds. Of course, it didn't take long for a small little horse ranch to be incorporated too. It became the go-to spot if you were looking for Ragatha in a given day.
As for Pomni, she and Kinger had recently finished a collaboration project to improve the cellar, changing it to an aquarium-like space for its imprisoned inhabitants to move around in more freely. And based on the abstracted's more relaxed moods since the upgrade, spinning and twirling through the enlarged enclosure, it's been a rousing success.
It was nice to see his wife again, even if it was behind a glass wall.
It was an eventful long day. They'd thrown a small little celebration because why not? Why not celebrate the fact that they were alive, live life to the fullest while they still could. Just be here, enjoying each other's love and company.
Making sure that no one felt alone, not ever again.
Gangle and Zooble had excused themselves early into the night, cheeks flushed from drinks as they playfully led each other down toward the dorm hall. Pomni and Ragatha had decided to go on a walk along the circus grounds before calling for the night, probably down to the lake.
Which left Kinger to his own devices.
Not that he minded. He was quite tired, had been for quite a while now.
Awareness… it was a strange thing. He'd gotten so used to just, going with the flow of things, not having to think about it, not having to make a conscious effort. Was that how one would describe madness? Or was it something else?
Kinger had been a passive observer for how many years now. It kept him here, kept him from abstracting like his friends, coworkers, and his wife. It was a small blessing, but one that left him to harmful idleness.
He didn't do enough to help the steady trickle of new faces that found themselves squandering in this new digital reality; some quicker than others.
Maybe if he'd been more present, he could have helped prevent that.
If he'd been more present, maybe he could have put a stop to everything before Caine finally lashed out after so many years of…
Kinger shakes his head. No, dwelling on those what-ifs now wasn't going to change anything. What mattered now was actually making up for lost time. He wasn't going to let anything like that happen again, not on his watch.
Crawling into his pillow fort, Kinger's immediately accosted by a small force flying directly into his face.
An outburst of little sounds, very musical-like, trickled out from the small red mass that shoved itself into his face; disjointed little shapes soon filled the room as the orb spawned them in tenfold, though they quickly fizzle out without much fanfare
Kinger reached his hands up to the little ball, gently pushing it off his face and guiding it into his open hands. Despite its apparent excitement, the little orb complies with the chess piece's silent herding, politely waiting.
It was about the size of a softball now, easily fitting in his hands.
The simplified model doesn't have a face. No eyes to convey what it might be thinking, but judging by how it animatedly it vibrates against his palms, Kinger can assume it's looking right up at him, barely managing the urge to fly up again and do laps around little space to relive its pent-up excitement at Kinger's return. A little warble trickles out of the wiggling little AI, forming a series of abstract shapes.
Squinting at it, it looks a little like Kinger himself. Next to that, the orb spits out a crooked-looking question mark.
Kinger can't help but laugh, exhaustion evident in his voice. "Hey, Caine. Sorry that I've been out for so long, lost track of the time. How've you been, bud?"
It was no short of a miracle that Caine had survived his deletion, though barely. Skimming through Caine's code showed a grim look at what they were dealing with.
Caine's code, at least what was left of it, was an incomprehensible mess. A large portion of it was outright gone or extremely corrupted. Almost none of it was salvageable; a lot had to be deleted in the end to prevent the affected code from spreading, potentially corrupting the fragile framework that was now the circus.
With what little of the code was left, it shouldn't even be possible for Caine to be functioning!
But here he was. Time and time again, Caine has proven to be something truly remarkable.
Kinger wasn't sure how much Caine remembered. The AI seemed rather fond of him, but he wasn't sure if that was due to any lingering memories or the fact that Kinger was the first person that Caine had met upon his unexplainable return.
He was also quite excitable, incredibly so. Caine would flock around any new items Kinger would bring into the fort, studying them before recreating them in all shapes and sizes to… varying degrees of success.
Nonetheless, Caine seemed very proud of his work, showing it off to Kinger with cheerful little chimes. Kinger would always show his support.
It reminded Kinger of simpler times.
Kinger hasn't told the others about Caine's unexpected return. Not yet, at least.
He'd suspected something was off about the circus leading up to discovering the scattered remains of the former ringmaster. While they had been recreating missing sections of the circus, slowly re-integrating small patches of color and functionality, most sections were still monochromatic - dead. Kinger was absolutely dreading having to dig into the code to reactivate the circus' disabled features.
But to his surprise, the liveliness of the circus was slowly bleeding back all on its own.
The others had assumed that the more they created, the more rejuvenated the circus would become. In turn, they quickly began coming up with more and more ideas to hopefully speed up the process.
But Kinger wasn't convinced, and so he kept an eye out for a suit-wearing pair of dentures to eventually reveal itself.
Caine was the circus, after all. He poured himself into its very code. If it was rebuilding itself so quickly like this, it could only mean that Caine, someway somehow, was back.
And Kinger waited, anxiously so. Only for Kinger to find Caine one unsuspecting day - at least, what remained of him- floating around the stage; the red orb's flight patterns were warbly, like a fat little bumblebee - clumsy and uncertain as he flew around in circles.
He'd called out to the AI, who dutifully flew over to the programmer. The orb glided around him curiously before settling into the chess piece's outstretched hands.
Caine was warm in this simplified form, his model always humming ever so softly.
Kinger quickly rushed them both into his pillow fort, keeping Caine safe and under wraps from the others for the time being.
Kinger admittedly felt a little guilty about keeping the rest of the group in the dark, outright refusing to let anyone enter the pillow fort despite having opened the fort's doors to visits less than a few days prior. But he needed time to acclimate Caine back into the circus - make sure that everything would be okay. He needed to find a way to casually break the news without it causing any unnecessary stress.
They haven't really talked about Caine since his incidental deletion. Most of them have accepted that he was long gone by now; he'd have to go about this carefully. They haven't exactly parted from Caine in the most civil of terms…
Caine wasn't too fond of being confined to the pillow fort. And he made a point to emphasize this to Kinger time and time again. Sometimes the orb would try to make a break for it, but Kinger was usually quick to snatch him back in. Little did Caine know that he was helping him hone his AI snatching skills.
He felt bad leaving him in here, especially on his own when he'd be asked to join the group on fun outings, but the others still needed some time to wind down after everything.
Soon though.
And so, Kinger made sure to bring in some stimuli for Caine to gnaw at while he was away - build up the data he was now considerably lacking little by little. More contained data this time. It was a joy coming back and watching Caine show up his progress, creating elaborate designs and silent puppet shows that illuminated the fort's low roof.
Kinger made sure to bring simple things, digestible things that followed a theme, a recognizable pattern.
He'd bring in a bowling pin one day. The next, a frisbee. And for another, a tennis ball.
This week, he'd taken to conjuring up some bugs for Caine. Caine was a big fan of bugs, especially the bees. He'd flutter around with it, producing a low buzz of his own.
Grant Best had failed Caine before, unintentionally so; he wouldn't make that same mistake again, not here, not now.
A familiar song pulls Kinger from his head.
An out-of-tune melody of Daisy Bell.
Looking down, he watches the wonky shapes pitter out of Caine as the song drones on. The scene showed what looked like a bike with trees blinking in and out. Above the bike floated two circles. One of the circles had a little pink bow.
Eyes creased into a smile, Kinger hums along. He settles into the many pillows he's accumulated over the years with a content sigh as he makes himself comfortable. He fondly watches Caine's little scene play out.
Caine loops the song for a bit, recreating the same shapes over and over again. Though eventually, as the shapes finally fade out, so does the song.
The orb glows a little brighter, awaiting Kinger's feedback.
"That was nice, Caine," Kinger responds, affectionally running a hand over Caine, who soaks up all the attention with a pleased hum.
Kinger stifles a long yawn, his body sagging from the heavy exhaustion.
Ah, looks like days' worth of all-nighters have finally caught up to him.
Caine lets out a distorted little warble. It was weirdly pitched, and it took Kinger a good minute to realize that he was mimicking him.
Kinger chuckles. "You tired too, Caine?"
The orb produces a green circle. He brightened, seemingly proud of the flawless production.
He holds Caine close, securely cradling the small orb against his chest as he snuggles against the pillows.
Caine's natural warmth dulls into a more cozy sensation as he settles into his own version of sleep mode. Now confined within this much more primitive model, Caine grew tired much more quickly, requiring soft, self-imposed 'shut-downs' to compensate for the sudden loss of his previous limitless energy.
The small orb thrums as he enters into sleep mode; the model's red glow dims slightly before brightening ever so slightly again. Back and forth, the hue shifts in a rhythmic motion, almost as if he were breathing.
The looming fatigue quickly catches up to Kinger as his eyes struggle to stay open any minute longer. Curling around Caine, Kinger welcomes the comforting lull of sleep.
Tomorrow was another day.