Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"So, what is this?" Pomni asked. Staring down at the bottle that Zooble had just handed her.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little clown." Ragatha giggled as she rolled around on the floor. "Hey? Do you guys see that?" She reached her arm up towards the sky, pointing at nothing besides the roof. Giggling some more like an excited child.

"It's 'stupid sauce'." Zooble answered Pomni, glancing down at Ragatha with a concerned look. "Cain made it for the restaurant, but some accidently got in her eye."

"Stupid sauce? Oh right- one of NPCs made a huge deal about wanting it." Pomni looked up from the bottle, her face a grimace. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, she should be fine." 

Ragatha rolled onto her back, still reaching for invisible stars. “They’re right there…!” she giggled, tears streaming down her stitched cheeks. “So pretty…”

Pomni shifted uncomfortably, clutching the bottle closer. “O-okay, yeah, this is… actually kind of creepy.”

“Give it here.” Jax’s voice cut through, flat and amused. He leaned casually against the counter, as if he hadn’t been watching the whole thing unfold. His smirk was firmly in place, ears perked. “I’ll take it off your hands before you start sipping it like soda.”

“Jax, don’t—” Zooble started, but Pomni, startled by his sudden reach, accidentally fumbled.

The glass slipped from her grip.

Time slowed.

The bottle arced down, shattering against Jax’s face. The sauce splattered across his muzzle, dripping into his open mouth.

“…Seriously?” He smacked his lips with exaggerated disgust. “Ugh. That’s your big scary drug? Tastes like rancid apple juice.”

He grinned, but his ears twitched. His laugh faltered.

“See? Totally fine—”

Then his knees buckled. His eyes glazed over.

The rabbit clutched the counter like he’d forgotten how to stand. His breathing quickened. And for once— he didn’t look smug. He looked scared.

His eye's danced around the room and his breathing quickened. They all stared at him for a few moments. Unsure what to do. The once calm, cool, and collected Jax seemed to be having a panic attack. 

"Okay, Jax, you need t-" Zooble stopped short when Jax snapped to attention, staring at Zooble with such intensity it made them flinch.

His pupils were wide, almost too large for his eyes, and his grin had twisted into something jagged, uncertain. “You… you’re part of this, aren’t you?” he hissed, voice shaking despite himself. “All of you… plotting… laughing… at me.”

Pomni took a cautious step forward. “Jax, no—nobody’s—”

“I saw it!” he yelled, hopping backward. His ears flattened against his head, tail flicking nervously. “The sauce… it… it tells me things! Things I don’t… don’t wanna know!”

Ragatha reached toward him, but even she hesitated in her drunken state, unsure whether to console him or give him space. His usual confidence, the mask he wore so well… it was gone.

Zooble swallowed, hands raised in surrender. “Jax, it’s okay. Nobody did anything on purpose. You… you just… got some sauce in your face. That’s all.”

Jax’s chest heaved. For a heartbeat, he looked like he might collapse entirely. Then, in a trembling voice, he muttered:
“…I… I don’t like being… like this…”

And just like that, the fearless, teasing rabbit everyone knew had vanished, replaced by someone raw, vulnerable, and utterly… human.

"Okay Jax." Pomni hesitated as she stepped closer to the panicking rabbit. "How about we get you to your room."

He nodded slowly. Eye's like pins, staring at her. 

"You gonna be okay?" Zooble asked, glancing at Jax with a look of uneasy concern. His ears twitched nervously, his hands fidgeting with nothing in particular. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I feel… weird. Everything’s… loud… too loud… and… wrong.”

Pomni’s eyes softened. She held out a hand, careful not to startle him. “It’s okay. We’ll get you somewhere safe. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Jax swallowed hard, his usual bravado stripped away. He took a shaky step toward her, then another, finally letting her guide him. His tail flicked nervously behind him, a silent testament to the storm inside.

Zooble lingered, hovering nearby, muttering, “I didn’t… I didn’t think it would hit him that hard…”

Ragatha, still sitting on the floor, gave a small, solemn nod. “Sometimes… even the strongest ones… they need help.” She flopped on the floor. "Do you seriously not see the stars?"

Zooble rolled their eyes. Giving a little chuckle. “…No,” Zooble said, exasperated but amused, glancing up at the blank ceiling. “All I see is… ceiling.”

Ragatha waved a hand dramatically, still sprawled on the floor. “You’re blind to magic! Pure magic!”

----

Jax followed Pomni down the hall, heading towards his room. It was a little awkward. Jax jumped at the littlest thing, nervously fidgeting with his hands. 

Pomni kept her steps slow, cautious, glancing back at him every few seconds. She wasn’t used to Jax being quiet. Or twitchy. Or… human.

Every flicker of shadow made him flinch, ears twitching violently. At one point, a loose floorboard creaked beneath them, and Jax nearly jumped out of his own fur.
“D-did you hear that?” His voice was thin, strained. Eye's wide with fear.
“It’s just the floor,” Pomni said gently, offering the smallest smile. “Nothing’s there.”

He nodded quickly, but his hands betrayed him—fingers twisting together, then pulling apart, over and over. Like he needed something to hold onto, but couldn’t bring himself to ask.

They walked in silence for a moment longer before Jax whispered, “I… don’t like this, Pomni. Not being… me.”

The words hung heavy in the hallway.

Pomni slowed, her expression softening even more. She wanted to tell him he was still him, just… not the version he let everyone see. But she didn’t know if he’d want to hear that right now. Instead, she reached out and steadied him with a hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch. “You don’t have to go through it alone. I’ve… I’ve felt like this before. The fear. The… panic. It doesn’t last forever, Jax. I promise.”

His eyes flicked toward her, wide and vulnerable. And for once, there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in him. Just quiet, fragile trust. He nodded slowly.

They continued toward his bedroom. 

Pomni nudged the door open and guided Jax inside. His room was quiet—too quiet. The walls, the bed, the sterile digital space… all of it felt like it was pressing in.

“Okay,” Pomni said softly, steering him toward the bed. “Just… sit. Breathe. You’ll feel better soon.”

Jax sat down stiffly, hands clenched in his lap, eyes darting around the room like he was expecting the walls to swallow him whole. He looked small—smaller than Pomni had ever seen him.

She gave a little nod, more to herself than to him. “Alright. You’re safe here. I’ll, um… let you rest.”

She turned for the door.

But before she could take a step, Jax’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was trembling but desperate.
“Don’t.”

Pomni froze, glancing back. His eyes were wild, terrified, shimmering like glass ready to crack.

“Please,” he whispered. His voice cracked on the word. “Don’t leave me here… not like this. I—I can’t… I don’t want to be alone when it feels like this.”

The silence stretched heavy between them. Pomni’s heart ached. Jax—the same Jax who mocked everyone, who never let anything touch him—looked utterly broken.

She eased back toward him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Slowly, carefully, she placed her hand over his.
“Then I’ll stay.”

And Jax, ears drooping, shoulders trembling, finally let himself breathe. He sat, breathing heavily. Almost refusing to look at her. "I-- I'm sorry Pomni."

"Oh- you don't have to-"

“…No.” Jax shook his head quickly, ears flicking. His voice cracked, thin and uneven. “I do. I’ve been—awful. To you. To everyone. Always running my mouth, always… pushing, poking. Because if I’m the one laughing, then nobody notices when I’m…” He trailed off, jaw tightening. Eye's shifting to tiny little needle points staring at nothing.

Pomni’s breath caught. She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to explain, that she understood—but something in his face told her he needed to get it out.

“…When I’m scared,” he whispered finally. His fingers dug into the bedsheets, twisting them. “I act like nothing gets to me, like I’ve got it all figured out. But the truth is—I don’t. I’ve never known how to deal with… with any of it. So I just—make it a joke. Every damn time.”

He finally looked up at her, eyes shimmering, unguarded. “And now this stupid sauce… it ripped all of it away. I don’t even get to hide right now. You’re seeing me. And I hate it.”

Pomni’s chest ached, her own eyes softening. She squeezed his hand gently. “Maybe… maybe it’s okay to be seen, Jax. Just this once.”

He flinched at the words, but he didn’t pull away.

"I've hurt everyone here. They all hate me." He spoke so quietly she could barely hear him. Tears began to stream down his face, and Pomni squeezed his hand. He finally turned to look at her. 

He looked so small in the pale room, so far from the swagger and smirk that lived in his mouth most days. “They all hate me,” he said again, like saying it out loud might make it true. His voice was a rasp—frayed at the edges. Tears tracked clean lines through the greasepaint of his face, and Pomni’s hand warmed his in a way that felt like an anchor.

Pomni swallowed. Her own throat felt thick. “No,” she said, and the single word was steadier than she felt. “They don’t hate you.”

Jax’s laugh when it came was bitter and thin. “Then why—why do I always—” He stopped, jaw working. “I push. I joke. I pick. I make everyone the butt of my punchline so they don’t see me. But it never works. It just… makes them tired. Annoyed. Sometimes angry. So they hate me. I deserve that.”

“You don’t,” Pomni said, quieter now. She moved closer, close enough that the warmth of him brushed her arm. “You don’t deserve loneliness for being scared. You don’t deserve… to be erased for trying to protect yourself the only way you know how.”

He glanced at her, pupils huge and glassy in the dim light. “Is that what you think?”

“I think…” she hesitated, searching for words that weren’t clumsy. “I think you made jokes so you could choose the way people looked at you. Not because people are wrong to be angry sometimes, but because you were trying to keep something inside from breaking. That’s not hate. That’s fear. And fear can make people do shitty things.”

Jax’s shoulders trembled. “I don’t want to be ‘shitty.’ I— I don’t want to be the one they roll their eyes at when something scary happens. I want to be the one who fixes it. But I don’t even know how to fix myself.” He hugged himself into a tight ball, leaving his arm out so Pomni would continue to hold his hand. "God, I hate this stupid sauce."

Pomni’s thumb circled his knuckles without thinking. “You don’t have to fix yourself right now. Nobody here expects a miracle. They expect honesty. They expect… effort. And look at you—you’re doing it.” She let the sentence hang between them. “You came here. You let me steer you to your room. You didn’t shove anyone away. That’s not nothing.”

Silence filled the little space—good, careful silence, laced with the soft hum of the circus beyond the walls. Jax breathed, long and shuddering, and for a heartbeat his face softened into something that might have been relief.

“What if I’m not worth the trouble?” he whispered. “What if I’m just… a problem they tolerate, not someone they love?”

Pomni’s chest hurt at that. She thought of Ragatha’s ridiculous tenderness, Zooble’s tired patience, even Caine’s chaotic, childish optimism. They were messy and loud and often exasperating—but the thing they kept doing, again and again, was staying.

“You’re not a problem,” she said slowly. “You’re a person whose in pain. People get tired of the same bruises, yes. But they stay because you’re part of their mess. Because you make them laugh when it’s unbearable, because you’ve gone out of your way to keep them alive in your own messy, ridiculous way. That matters. You matter.”

Jax’s hands tightened around the sheet. A hiccupping sob wracked him; he let it come. “I’m scared someone will get sick of me and just… leave.. or abstract- I-. And I-I - don’t think I c- could—” His voice broke. He couldn’t finish. He blinked fast, like he was trying to hold himself together with his lashes.

Pomni leaned in, her forehead touching his in a gesture that felt ancient and honest. “Then don’t let them have to choose that,” she murmured. “Let them see the real you before that happens. Let them help. Because leaving you to be scared alone? That’s the only thing I could imagine hating.”

Something like a laugh—wet and surprised—escaped him. “You sound preachy.” 

“I sound like someone who lied to herself for a long time,” Pomni said. “And finally learned that people are allowed to be soft sometimes.”

Jax blinked, and a small, crooked thing like a smile cracked his face. It was fragile and ridiculous and exactly him. He let his head drop back on the pillow, eyes fluttering closed, breathing still ragged but slowing.

“Stay,” he said, voice muffled, unnecessary but necessary all the same.

Pomni smiled, and it reached her eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”

She settled beside him on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, the room small and bright with the kind of quiet that doesn’t demand words. Outside, Ragatha’s faint giggle drifted down the hall. For now, the world could wait. Jax was seen, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself be.

Chapter Text

Jax woke up with his head pounding, like someone had stuffed his brain with static and broken glass. The room was dim—Pomni had left the curtains drawn. For a moment, he almost forgot what had happened. Almost.

Then he caught sight of her, curled in the chair beside his bed. Her hat tipped forward slightly, eyes shut, hands still clasped together in her lap like she’d been praying for him.

Jax’s chest twisted. He hated the way it twisted.

He sat up too fast, ears twitching. Pomni stirred, blinking awake. When her eyes landed on him, they softened. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

He smirked—automatic, practiced. His armor sliding back into place. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell me I missed something fun." Completely ignoring what she asked. "Ragatha juggling chainsaws? Caine breakdancing?”

Pomni frowned. “Jax… last night, you—”

He cut her off sharply, voice low and flat. “Nothing happened.”

Pomni froze. The air between them thickened. Jax leaned forward, his grin thin and brittle. “You hear me, clown? Whatever you think you saw—forget it. I don’t remember a thing.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to protest, but his eyes—hard, desperate—kept her quiet. Annoyance bubbled inside her chest. She frowned. "You can't do that to me. You can't just pretend what you told me last night meant nothing."

Jax swallowed, throat tight. His shoulders tightened for a second as he thought over what she said. His voice cracked just slightly when he added, “I told you all that in confidence. Don’t tell the others. Please.”

For a heartbeat, the rabbit who mocked everything and everyone looked like he might break again. Pomni’s heart ached. She gave a slow nod.

“…Okay. I won’t.”

Only then did his shoulders sag, the tiniest bit of relief loosening his grip on the mask. He turned away, ears drooping, muttering, “Good. That’s… good.”

"But if you think I'll let it go - well- you better think twice. I need you to be okay."

Jax took a sharp breath. “So you wanna go see what the others are up to?” He threw the blanket off himself, standing and stretching, his grin sharp but his ears still a little low. “I hope Cain has something fun planned today. I could use a distraction.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Pomni stood as well, brushing down her outfit, her eyes flicking over him with a frown.

Jax noticed. Of course he noticed. His smirk twitched. “What’s with the look? You think I’m gonna keel over again?” He chuckled, but it came out thinner than usual. “Relax, Pomni. I’m tougher than I look.” That look in Pomni's eye looked a lot like pity, and Jax hated being pitied. 

Pomni hesitated, then forced a small smile. “I just… want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

For the briefest second, his mask slipped—eyes darting away, shoulders tightening. Then he leaned close, too close, voice dropping to a whisper sharp as glass.

“You didn’t see anything. Got it?”

Pomni’s breath caught. She nodded slowly. “…fine. I'll play along with your stupid joke.”

Jax pulled back, flashing his usual smug grin, as if nothing had happened. “Good girl. Let’s go.”

He pushed past her toward the door, but Pomni could see it: the way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way his tail flicked nervously. The act wasn’t as airtight as he wanted it to be after last night.

And she wondered how long he could keep pretending.

Jax pushed open the door, strolling out into the hall with Pomni trailing behind. He walked like nothing had happened—shoulders back, smirk plastered on, as if the night before was just a bad dream.

Zooble was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Ragatha sat nearby on a block, legs swinging idly, while Gangle fidgeted with the ends of her ribbon, eyes darting nervously between them.

The moment Jax stepped out, the air shifted.

“…You good?” Zooble asked, blunt but wary.

“Yeah, Jax,” Ragatha added, her voice soft. “You, uh… kind of scared us.”

Gangle whimpered, twisting her ribbon tighter. “I-I didn’t know if you were going to—” She stopped herself, looking down quickly.

Jax laughed—too loud, too casual. “Me? Scare you? C’mon, you guys act like I was dying or something.” He waved a hand, ears flicking back. “I just had a bad trip on Cain’s stupid sauce. Big deal.” He looked between all of them. Annoyed at the way they were acting. "Lighten up. It was funny."

No one laughed.

Ragatha’s smile faltered. Zooble’s gaze narrowed. Gangle’s ribbon trembled slightly, her sad mask frowning.

Pomni glanced at Jax—saw the tension in his jaw, the way his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. She swallowed, stepping forward. “He’s fine. Really. Just… let’s not make it a thing, okay?”

The others exchanged uneasy looks but didn’t press further.

Jax flashed his teeth in a grin. “See? Pomni gets it.” He slung an arm over her shoulder a little too casually, tugging her along. “Now let’s go bug Cain before he cooks up something even dumber.”

But Pomni felt it—the tightness in his grip, the silent plea hidden beneath his performance.

Don’t tell them.

----

“Gooooood morning, Digital Circus!” Caine’s voice boomed, echoing around the common room like the world’s most obnoxious alarm clock. The others groaned, some covering their ears.

Jax rolled his eyes, flopping dramatically across the couch. “Oh boy, here we go…”

With a snap of his cane, the air around them shimmered. “Today, my dear performers, you are tasked with a most thrilling heist!”

The floor lurched beneath their feet, the common room dissolving in a cascade of glowing pixels. Suddenly, they stood on a vast table stretching into the distance, every surface stacked high with gigantic playing cards. Towering spades and hearts leaned precariously, forming archways and bridges that swayed with every breeze.

“Welcome,” Caine announced, “to the Kingdom of Cards! Ruled by the illustrious—if somewhat temperamental—Card King! Three total guardians lurk within the castle! The king being the final guardian!”

A massive card at the far end of the hall flipped over, revealing an NPC with a crown and a jittery, painted smile. “WHO DARES APPROACH MY CASTLE?!” the Card King bellowed, voice squeaky and cracking in all the wrong places. Cain snapped his fingers, and the king disappeared from view. So did the table, disappearing into pixels that fell away into a black void. 

Caine’s grin widened. “Your mission, my darling jesters, is to infiltrate the royal halls and retrieve all three of the Golden mini cards! But beware—one false step, and the castle may very well… collapse!”

The floor tilted suddenly, sending Gangle shrieking and grabbing for Pomni. Ragatha clapped her hands nervously. “Oh, this is… fun!”

Zooble muttered something unprintable.

Jax tilted his head back, smirk plastered on as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Great. A house of cards. Real original, Caine. What’s next, we play fifty-two pick-up until we abstract?”

The castle groaned ominously, one of the walls bending under its own weight. Pomni’s stomach dropped.

“…He’s not kidding, is he?” she whispered.

“Nope,” Jax said cheerfully, though his ears flicked back just slightly. “Welcome to another day in paradise.”

"Have fun!" Cain declared, then popped away from existence.

Chapter Text

Jax lay sprawled across his bed, fists clenched into the mattress, heart hammering so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest. Every word he’d accidentally spilled—every confession, every unguarded thought—looped through his mind like a broken record. They know. They all know. And now… I’m fucked.

Cain’s voice, sharp and mocking earlier, still rang in his ears. He shoved the memory away with a harsh twist of his shoulders. Fuck off. Just… fuck off.

The room felt too small, the walls pressing in. Even the familiar shadows in the corners seemed accusing. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t figure out how to undo what had been done. His chest tightened with panic, and his hands shook, twitching toward the edges of the bed as if he could claw himself out of himself.

A soft knock at the door made him flinch. His muscles coiled. “Go away,” he croaked, voice hoarse.

“Jax…” Pomni’s tone was gentle, careful. She didn’t push, didn’t enter, just stayed at the threshold. “It’s okay. I… I’m not upset.”

He wanted to argue, to slam the door, to disappear entirely. But even as he curled into himself, a part of him—stubborn, scared, desperate—listened.

The silence stretched. Only his ragged breathing filled the space, punctuated by the faint scrape of Pomni’s steps as she sat just outside the door. Not close. Not invasive. Just… there. And for reasons he couldn’t name, that made it harder to hate her.

He stood from the bed, shaking himself off lightly. Walking over to the door, opening it just enough to poke his head through. Pomni looked up at him with a soft smile. "You okay?"

Jax scoffed, though it came out weaker than he intended. “No.”

Before he could second-guess himself, he opened the door wider and tugged her inside, shutting it quickly behind them. The lock clicked, final. No Cain. No eyes. Just her.

Pomni blinked, surprised but not resisting as he let go of her arm. She stayed close, like she was afraid moving too fast might spook him.

The silence swelled between them again, heavier now. Jax shifted his weight, arms crossed tight over his chest, as if he could physically hold himself together. He wanted to tell her to leave. He wanted her to stay. Both wants gnawed at him like glass under his skin.

Pomni stayed quiet for a moment, eyes flicking over him like she was trying to gauge whether he’d shatter if she spoke too loud.

“You don’t… have to pretend with me,” she said finally. Her voice was soft, but it cut straight through him anyway.

Jax barked a laugh—sharp, bitter. “Yeah? Well, I’m real good at pretending. You should’ve noticed by now.”

Pomni didn’t flinch. She stepped a little closer, tilting her head. “I noticed. That’s why I’m here.”

His throat went tight. She was too close now, not touching him, but close enough that he could feel her warmth. For a second—just a second—his chest stopped aching. He almost leaned in, almost let himself collapse into it.

But then the panic crept back in. If she saw all of him, every jagged piece he tried to bury, she’d leave. They always left.

So he took a step back, arms folding tighter, mask slipping back into place. “Careful, Pomni. Keep poking around in my head, and you’re gonna regret it.”

There was no bite in his voice this time, though. Just a hollow warning, already too late. He could feel her eyes staring into him. The confusion building up inside her. He knew it all too well. The way they all looked at him like he was some kind of monster. 

She laughed lightly. "Jax. Everyone has layers to them."

He snapped his gaze to her, frown tugging at his mouth. “Yeah, well… mine aren’t exactly fun to peel back.”

Pomni tilted her head, unbothered by the edge in his tone. “So what? You think I’m gonna run just because you’re complicated?”

The words landed harder than they should have. He wanted to scoff, to make a joke, to push her away again—but his throat locked up. She was too close, too steady, and for a dizzy second, he wanted to believe her.

Instead, he muttered, “You don’t know what you’re saying.” His arms stayed crossed, but his grip on himself had loosened, shoulders sagging under the weight of it all.

Pomni’s smile softened, less playful now. She reached out—hesitant, deliberate—and rested her hand on his arm. Warm. Grounding.

Jax froze. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to bolt. And yet… he didn’t move. He blushed slightly at her touch. It burned on his fur, startling him more than the glitches ever did.

“Pomni…” His voice caught—too rough, too honest. He tried to smother it with a scoff, but it came out weak, shaky.

Her fingers didn’t move, steady on his arm like an anchor. “See? Not so scary.”

Jax’s heart lurched against his ribs. Scary? It was terrifying. Because if he let himself want this—want her—then the walls he’d built would crumble, and there’d be nothing left to hide behind.

He should’ve pulled away. Should’ve shoved her hand off, thrown out some cruel joke to remind her who she was dealing with.

But he didn’t. He froze, trembling under her gentle grip, hating how badly he didn’t want her to let go.

“How can you be so patient with me- so kind- after what you saw in that maze…” 

“Do you seriously think you're the only one who has ever made mistakes?” Pomni chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” 

“I- I’ve hurt people.” He muttered, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes. “Those aren’t just mistakes. It’s my fault- my fault he’s gone-”

“Yeah, I know.” Pomni interrupted. “I saw in the maze. You clearly blame yourself for your friend abstracting.” 

“I deserve to be hated.” He rasped. Clinging onto himself with all his strength. 

“Don’t you think this is the reason people abstract?” 

“What?” He finally looked up at her. Surprise taking over. She looked so calm, even as he was feeling so much pain.

“You hold all your self hatred deep inside, and pretend everything is fine.” Softly, she put her hand on his chest. He sniffled. “But that not only hurts you, but also everyone trapped in here. Don’t you think you should try to be kinder. I saw you help Ragatha today. You're only bad because you’ve trapped yourself inside that box.”

“I - I have to-” He scrambled, his mind scrambling for a reason why. He knew he didn’t have to. But that was all he knew. Burying all the pain so deep, pretending to have fun despite it all. 

“No, you don’t.” Pomni smiled calmly. Still one hand on his chest. 

“It’s-” He sniffled weakly. “That's all I know.”

“Of course it is.” Pomni sympathized. “And it will take a while for you to learn another, healthier way of coping. But for now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Chapter Text

"Gather around everyone! Gather around!" Cain's voice boomed in the main room. 

Jax slinked over, ears twitching, tail flicking nervously. Sleepy. Grumpy. Already regretting leaving the relative safety of his room.

Pomni padded up beside him, rubbing her eyes, yawning lazily. “What now?” she muttered, half-amused.

Cain grinned, practically vibrating with energy. “I’ve been studying humans! And I’ve discovered a most curious tradition: storytelling around a fire! A… campfire, they call it. And since yesterday’s adventure apparently ‘ruined your lives’—” he glanced at Zooble, who was rolling their eyes—“we’re going to try something more… civilized tonight!”

Jax raised an eyebrow. Civilized. Cain. Right. He took a glance around. "Where's your side kick?" He grumbled. Annoyed.

Zooble muttered, “Civilized is subjective, apparently.”

"Never mind Bubble. He's too- unhinged." Cain snapped his fingers. Making them pop out of the the main stage room, and into existence in a moonlight field. A soft glow appeared in the center of the courtyard. Logs arranged in a rough circle, a small fire crackling to life. Sparks rose lazily into the night sky. “Behold! The human way!”

Jax’s ears twitched. Great. Now we’re doing this. Sitting in a circle, exposed, talking. Fantastic.

Pomni nudged his side lightly. “Come on. Worst case, you just sit there and glare at the fire.” As if she could read his mind.

He blinked at her, and a tiny, reluctant smirk tugged at his lips. Maybe this won’t be terrible…

“Thank you, Cain,” Ragatha said with a small smile, settling onto one of the logs. 

“Human tradition… acknowledged,” Cain said, puffing out his chest. Clearly proud of himself. Jax glared at the AI who was clearly doing this because he was searching for approval. Ragatha fed right into it. “Now, each of you will share a story! Something thrilling! Something terrifying! Something… human!”

Zooble rolled his eyes and muttered under their breath, “Here we go…”

Pomni leaned over to Jax, whispering, “See? Nothing to be scared of. Just stories.”

Jax twitched his ears, tail flicking. Stories. Right. Relax. Totally fine. “Uh… yeah. Sure. Stories. Totally… casual.” He rolled his eye's. He was still very on edge. Jax caught Cain staring at him, and glared once more. What do you want? 

Zooble smirked, nudging Pomni lightly. “So, you really were in Jax’s room?”

Pomni shrugged, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. “It… wasn’t a big deal,” she murmured, voice just loud enough for Jax to hear.

Jax froze, eyes widening, tail stiffening. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. He flicked a glance at Zooble, wishing fervently he could vanish. Zooble noticed the look, they looked genuinely surprised at the look of fear that sat on Jax's face. He had no idea why he was so nervous about anyone else knowing about him and Pomni's 'secret'. It was nothing. She meant nothing. But he had a hard time latching onto the thought. 

Pomni leaned just slightly closer, brushing her fingers over the edge of his paw. “You’re fine,” she murmured, almost teasing, almost comforting. Jax wanted to argue, to deny it, but the warmth of her voice made him hesitate.

Zooble would've smirked at him if they could. “Careful, pup. You look like you’re about to explode. Don’t tell me you’re scared of… stories?” Smugly adding stories to the end. 

Jax shot them a glare that. Holding back a blush. “Shut up. and don't call me that!”

Cain clapped his hands together. “Quiet! Let’s begin! Who dares first?”

Kinger raised a hand. “I’ll go. But if anyone screams, it’s on you, Cain.”

Jax sagged in the log beside Pomni, ears twitching annoyingly, already regretting agreeing to “campfire stories.”

Pomni reached out, brushing her hand lightly against his. “It’ll be fine. You’re fine.”

Fine. Right. Totally fine… Jax’s chest tightened, and he felt the familiar heat rising in his ears. He wanted to lean into her warmth, let himself feel safe for just a second—but the moment was already too exposing. With a small, awkward jerk, he pulled his hand away from hers. She frowned at him, lips pressing into a thin line, though her eyes stayed soft.

Kinger cleared his throat lazily, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, then. Once upon a time…”

Jax’s ears flattened against his head, tail twitching nervously. He sank slightly farther into the log beside Pomni, wishing fervently he could disappear into the shadows of the firelight.

Pomni nudged him gently with her shoulder. “You’re okay,” she murmured, her warmth grounding him just enough to keep him from bolting.

Kinger launched into his story, voice low and smooth, weaving a tale of impossible feats and daring escapes. The others leaned in, some whispering reactions, others wide-eyed in fascination. Jax could hear the crackle of the fire, the faint rustle of leaves in the night, He couldn't really understand what Kinger was saying. Nor did he care to. Choosing to zone out. But all he could focus on was the fact that Pomni’s hand hovered just close enough to brush his thigh when he twitched.

He clenched his fists in his lap, trying to keep his nerves from showing. Stop being so obsessive you idiot. He told himself. Shaking his head slightly. He wished they could be back in his room - but no- he was crying last time they were alone together. Ugh I'm such a loser. But he held a loose smile on his face through all the emotions swelling in his chest.

Pomni caught his eye for a brief second, giving him a small, teasing smile before returning her attention to Kinger. Jax blushed. The simple gesture sent another wave of panic-flutter through him, but this time, he didn’t pull away entirely. He was too aware that even if the story was unfolding and the fire was warm, the quiet connection here—just being near her—was somehow more terrifying than any adventure Cain could throw at them.

As Kinger continued, the group relaxed around the fire, letting themselves be drawn into the story, the night stretching on. Jax’s ears twitched at every laugh and gasp from the others, every flicker of light, every glance Pomni gave him. He stayed put, heart hammering, nerves taut—but he stayed. 

Kinger’s story wound to its climax—a daring hero, trapped atop a floating tower, battling shadows that whispered secrets only he could hear. The hero leapt at the final moment, grabbing a shimmering key that glowed with an impossible light, unlocking a… well, Jax wasn’t really paying close attention.

“—and with that, the Grand Banana of Eternity chose him as its champion!” Kinger declared triumphantly.

Cain laughed. "Ah yes- I remember that adventure." Why is he still here? Way to ruin the mood.

A beat of silence fell over the fire.

“Wait… what?” Zooble blinked, head tilted.

“The… Grand Banana?” Gangle echoed, eyebrows raised.

“Yes!” Kinger puffed out his chest, utterly serious. “It had been hidden atop the Tower of Slightly Wrong Things for eons! Only the worthy—or those who ignore the minor details—could claim it!”

Jax’s ears twitched. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. Banana? Tower? Wait, there was a tower?  He looked at Pomni, who was suppressing a laugh, eyes sparkling. Well at least one of us is enjoying this.

“You… you missed a lot,” she whispered, leaning closer.

Jax laughed. "I don't even know what we're talking about."

"Kinger told us a wonderful story about a past adventure." Ragatha explained.

As if Jax cared.

Kinger nodded solemnly, as if no one else’s confusion mattered. “Exactly. And that, my friends, is how the Grand Banana of Eternity found its champion."

Jax blinked, utterly lost. I don’t get any of it. Kinger.. you make no sense.

Pomni leaned against him, smirking. “Don’t worry. That made sense. To… someone, somewhere.”

Cain chuckled, shaking his head. “Truly, a tale for the ages. Few mortals—or performers—have the courage to ignore the minor details so completely.”

Gangle blinked. “Ignore… what details?”

Zooble leaned back, arms crossed, declared, “I feel like I missed something critical…”

Jax shrugged. “ I have no idea what’s happening. Bananas. Towers. Champions. I’m just… here.” 

Kinger raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you weren’t paying attention? Sacrilege! Only the worthy remember the Grand Banana’s legend.”

Jax cringed. “…Right. Of course. I totally remember.”

Pomni stifled a laugh, and Jax’s ears twitched in irritation. The fire crackled, the night stretching around them, and for a moment, all was absurdly calm. Too quiet. Too open. Too much… possibility for chaos—or someone noticing something they shouldn’t. He shifted slightly.

Pomni leaned back against the log, eyes glinting in the firelight. “You’re awfully tense for someone at a campfire,” she teased softly.

“I… am not tense,” Jax muttered, though the twitch in his ears betrayed him. “I’m… enjoying the ambiance.”

Pomni raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Pomni shifted slightly on her log, letting the warmth of the fire wash over her. She watched the sparks drift into the night, then finally said, “Alright… my turn. You want to hear a story from before all… this?” Her gesture swept vaguely over the circus, the tents, the chaos they’d all survived.

"From before the circus? I don't know Pomni- you might make Cain upset." He smirked faintly, voice dry. “You know how he gets about bedtime stories that don’t involve danger or spectacle.”

Pomni rolled her eyes, letting a small smile tug at her lips. “Relax. I’m not trying to get anyone killed tonight. Just… a little story. Something quieter.”

Jax leaned back, mask firmly in place. “Quieter, huh? Sounds suspiciously like boring to me.”

Pomni teasingly elbowed him. Laughing. “Maybe. But it's nice. Before- this..." she paused, then shook her head. "I grew up in a small town, quiet streets, lots of books and trees. I… I used to climb the tallest trees I could find and just… watch the world. Pretend I was somewhere else.” She smiled faintly at the memory, the firelight catching in her eyes. “I had this little treehouse, not very fancy, but it was mine. I’d bring snacks up there, hide for hours, and write stories in a little notebook I kept under my pillow. I… liked the quiet. Liked feeling like I could just… be.”

Jax leaned a little closer, drawn in despite himself. His tail flicked subtly, ears easing back from full alert. “Sounds… peaceful,” he muttered.

“It was,” she admitted softly. “But… it wasn’t perfect. Sometimes I’d get scared of being alone." He knew that feeling all too well. "Sometimes people didn’t understand me. But in those trees, in that little space… I was free. I felt… like I belonged nowhere, and yet… everywhere at once.”

Her voice caught slightly, but she didn’t break. She let the silence hang for a moment, letting the crackle of the fire fill the gap.

“And that,” she said finally, shrugging lightly, “is a story from before the circus. Not grand. Not heroic. Just… me.”

Jax’s ears twitched again. He looked at her, seeing something raw and honest he hadn’t expected. He swallowed, words caught somewhere between admiration and… something else.

“Well, that’s not very interesting,” Cain huffed, throwing his hands up. Proofing Jax right. “Where are the dragons? The curses? The—oh, I don’t know—enchanted sandwiches? This is a campfire, people! Excitement is mandatory!”

"I liked it." Gangle smiled at her.

Pomni tilted her head, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Cain… sometimes the story isn’t about dragons. Sometimes it’s about a person. Just… existing.”

"Humans are odd." Cain huffed.

Jax’s ears twitched. Annoyed that Cain was even sitting with them. He wasn't human. He glared at the AI. Cain didn't notice.

Kinger puffed out his chest. “Hmph! I shall prove that stories don’t need to be boring. Prepare yourselves for the tale of the Grand Banana of Eternity!”

Jax groaned, rolling his eyes. "Here we go again."

Ragatha tittered. "Kinger, you already told us that story." 

Kinger blinked, looking genuinely surprised. “Did I? Huh… well, perhaps it deserves a second telling. For clarity’s sake. And dramatic flair.”

Jax pinched the bridge of his nose, tail flicking irritably. Clarity’s sake. Right.

Pomni stifled a laugh beside him, eyes sparkling. “Or maybe we just… listen to someone else,” she suggested gently.

"Oh, I could go next!" Ragatha smiled, raising her hand up slightly. "Hmm - lets see -"

"Booooring." Jax snickered. Poking Pomni with his elbow to get her to agree. "What are you gonna tell us about. How evil your mom is?" 

“…Jax—let’s just let her talk,” Pomni murmured, nudging his side gently. Her tone was soft, but there was an unmistakable edge: don’t ruin this.

Jax snorted, ears twitching, but he didn’t argue. Not yet. He leaned back slightly, trying to look nonchalant.

Chapter Text

The soft hum of music filled Pomni’s room, a gentle backdrop to the quiet chaos of papers, notebooks, and half-finished doodles scattered across the floor. Pomni sat cross-legged near her little speaker, pencil in hand, sketching absentmindedly, while Jax sprawled nearby, eyes shut, listening to Pomni's music. They weren’t talking much—just murmuring comments now and then—but the air was warm and easy.

“You’re humming off-key,” Jax said suddenly, squinting at her with mock seriousness.

Pomni glanced up, eyebrows quirking, “Excuse me? That’s the soul of the song. Clearly, your ears are defective.”

Jax snorted, shaking his head. “You wish you could have ears like mine."

Pomni rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the little smile tugging at her lips. “Clearly, you don’t understand the nuances of artistic interpretation,” she said, returning to her sketch with exaggerated focus.

Jax opened one eye, peeking at her over the edge of his arm. “Nuances, huh? Is that what we’re calling humming like a dying robot now?”

She laughed softly, a sound that made Jax’s chest feel lighter than it had all day. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re calling it. And you, my friend, are lucky to witness this high art in action.”

For a while, the only sounds were the gentle hum of the music, the scratch of Pomni’s pencil on paper, and the occasional soft murmur of Jax commenting—or complaining—about something in the song. Every so often, their hands would brush as they reached for the same notebook or snack lying between them, and neither would move away.

Pomni held up her sketch to show him, a tiny smirk on her face. “Behold. The masterpiece of the hour.”

Jax leaned forward, squinting at the page. “Is that… me?”

She nodded, barely containing a laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a heroic rendition of someone I know who is absolutely terrible at humming.”

He groaned, flopping back onto the floor. “You’re cruel.”

“Only with love,” she said softly, eyes twinkling.

The comment made him blush deeply. His heart hammered in his chest. She chuckled softly. 

Another comfortable silence settled over them, the kind where words weren’t needed. Jax closed his eyes again, letting the music wash over him, and Pomni leaned just slightly closer, not enough to notice.

When the song ended, Jax stretched and muttered, “Okay, fine. I admit it—maybe your humming isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

Pomni’s laugh was quiet but full, and she shook her head, turning back to her doodles. “Such a generous compliment, truly.”

And for a while, they stayed like that: close, content, and quietly sharing a little bubble of their own world.

God I could get used to this. Jax thought. Taking another glance at Pomni as she sketched. 

A knock came from the door. "Pomni? You there?" Ragatha's voice was nervous. 

Jax rolled his eyes. Ugh. Of course. Ragatha. His thoughts snapped at her voice. 

Pomni opened the door. The ragdolls face grimace at the sight of him. Pomni  hesitated, glancing between Ragatha and Jax. “Uh… we were just… listening to music,” she said quickly, voice a little higher than usual.

“Right,” Ragatha replied, her smile too stiff to be real. Her eyes flicked to Jax, narrowing just slightly. “Well, when you’re done, I’d really like to talk. Just us girls.”

Jax stretched his arms overhead, deliberately slow, and flashed a grin. “Don’t let me stop you. I’ll just be over here, apparently ruining the vibe by existing.”

Pomni eyed him with a sad look. “Don’t be so dramatic, Jax. We’ve spent all morning together.” She laughed playfully.

He only frowned deeper. Rude.

She turned back to Ragatha. “We can take a walk.” Her smile brightened, and then she looked back at Jax, waving goodbye. “I’ll be back! Don’t worry.”

The door shut softly, leaving Jax to his thoughts.

Jax flopped onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it owed him answers.

She left with Ragatha. Great. Perfect.

He tugged at his shirt, muttering, “I didn’t do anything… did I?” His voice cracked somewhere between worry and theatrical despair. Don't overthink it. Don't get lost in those thoughts.

He punched the air once, twice, then let out a pitiful groan, like a frog caught in a rainstorm. “Ugh, why am I like this?”

Rolling onto his side, he pressed his face into the pillow, fists curling. God. I’m just overthinking. I know it. And yet… He let out a long, dramatic sigh, flopping back onto his back. I can’t stop. Why is she so… her? Why can’t I just be… normal?

A sad little noise slipped past his lips—a half-whine, half-howl, the kind only the ceiling got to hear. Then he thumped the mattress with a fist for emphasis. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered, over and over.

A laugh bubbled out of him, sharp and nervous, but it twisted mid-breath into something wet and shaky — a sob he tried to swallow down. He clapped a hand over his mouth like he could muffle it, eyes squeezing shut.

Don't cry over nothing. Sharp shots rattling through his mind. One after the other. Quick and unfair. Ragatha is gonna ruin this. I'm gonna ruin this. Just be normal Jax, it's pointless to sit here and focus on this. What's wrong with you? Pomni deserves better then me. 

What are you talking about? I am the best thing to happen to her. She's lucky to have met me!

"Hah!" He laughed out loud at how stupid that logic was. Lucky? Jax- you ruin everything without even trying. There's nothing good about you. The others agree. Give up.

He rolled onto his stomach, staring at the cracks in the ceiling again. Each one seemed to echo back his own doubts. “Maybe she hates me. No…” His voice trailed into another groan. “I am just a jerk. Yeah. Definitely. Classic me.”

He sat up, muttering, punching the air again, and then letting out a mournful, drawn-out noise. “This is fine. Totally fine. Just… fine.” God Jax can't you just be normal?

The room stayed quiet, save for his dramatic sighs and sad little noises, and the faint hum of music left behind by Pomni. The emptiness pressed in around him, making every thought, every second-guess, every imagined failure feel louder. His eye's scanned the room quickly. His face scrunched up.

Jax flopped sideways again, muttering, “God. I’m doomed.”

He shook his head a little too violently, like he could physically shake the thoughts loose.

Stop overthinking, Jax. She doesn’t hate you all of a sudden. There’s no reason to think that.

He let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing his face into the pillow. Right. No reason. Totally fine. Totally fine. But the second he tried to believe it, another worry slithered in: What if she sees me the way everyone else does? What if I screw this up before I even know how to be… okay? Can I even be okay? 

God, I’m so pathetic. I meet one person I actually like and get way too attached, way too fast. We just met. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so much?

Stop it, Jax. Stop thinking so hard. She doesn’t hate you. She—ugh.

His fists clenched in the sheets. What are they saying to her right now? Ragatha, Zooble, anyone—what if they’re warning her about me? Telling her to stay away?

He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering, “Jax, stop it. Stop.” His face twisted into a grimace, but the thoughts wouldn’t let go.

She’s laughing at something they said. She’s agreeing. She’s realizing I’m just… me. A joke. A mistake. I've been so mean to all of them. She deserves better. 

He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead like he could shove the spiral back into the dark corner it belonged. Instead, the questions multiplied. What if she never comes back? What if I ruined it before it even started?

A muffled groan slipped out as he buried his face in the pillow. “God. I’m screwed.”

He stood up and stretched, the mask sliding back into place. All that pathetic noise, shoved down where no one would see. Fake. Easy. Necessary.

By the time anyone saw him again, the mask would already be smiling.

Pomni followed Ragatha down the hall, Jax’s lazy grin still clinging to her mind like static. She shook it off, focusing on where Ragatha was leading her.

When they turned the corner, she saw Zooble sprawled across the ground, pieces of their body scattered everywhere.

“Gangle wasn’t in her room,” Ragatha explained, smiling kindly, “but I did find Pomni.”

“Ugh. Don’t—don’t look at me like that,” Zooble snapped, eyes blinking wide and narrow with every word. “I tripped. Body shattered. Been here a while, but hey, Ragatha finally stumbled across me. Not a big deal.”

Ragatha crouched down first, scooping up a piece. Pomni hesitated, then knelt beside her to help.

Zooble groaned. “Thanks, I guess. It’s not like this hurts or anything. Just… inconvenient to look at.” Their voice dipped lower, embarrassed.

“That’s not true,” Pomni said, sharper than she intended. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Ugh, I’ve been hanging around Jax too much. I sound preachy now. She softened her tone, sliding a piece back into place. “You’re not inconvenient. You just… need a little help sometimes.”

Zooble eyed her sidelong, unreadable. “…You sound like Ragatha.”

Both Pomni and Ragatha laughed.

Pomni brushed her hair back nervously. “Well, she’s right about some things. Hold still—almost got it.”

Ragatha’s cheeks pinkened faintly. She nudged Zooble. “See? Told you she’d agree with me.”

With a final click, the last joint locked back into place. Zooble flexed their arm, testing it, then sighed. “…Huh. Guess you two aren’t completely useless.”

Pomni stood, relief brightening her face. “We’ll take that as a thank you.”

Ragatha pulled Zooble up, and they stretched their limbs, testing the connections. “Still—thanks. Not fun being stuck in a hallway with my bits scattered all over the floor.” They chuckled. “You guys got lucky with your avatars.”

Zooble shook out their arms, satisfied the joints were holding. “Well, now that I’m in one piece again… maybe we should all hang out? You know, the three of us. Cards, weird board games, whatever.”

Pomni perked up, but then hesitated. “Oh—um. I’d like that, but… I kind of promised Jax I’d come back to him after this.” She smiled sheepishly. “We were having a whole… thing today.”

The air shifted. Zooble’s expression flattened, and Ragatha’s polite smile faltered at the edges.

“Pomni,” Ragatha said gently, tilting her head, “you don’t always have to be with Jax, you know.”

“Yeah,” Zooble added, crossing their arms. “Not to be blunt, but we really don’t like him. He’s—” they gestured vaguely, “—a jerk. And we don’t think he’s good for you.”

Pomni blinked, caught off guard. “Wait… what?”

Ragatha stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was letting Pomni in on a secret. “We think he’s using you, Pomni. That’s what Jax does. He finds someone new, keeps them entertained until he gets bored, and then…” she trailed off, frowning.

Zooble snorted. “Yeah. He’s not exactly subtle about it.”

Pomni’s heart fluttered uncomfortably. She tried to laugh it off, but the unease in their faces made her stomach twist. 

Pomni fidgeted with her hands, her smile wobbling. “I… don’t think he’s using me. He’s been—different with me. Nicer.”

Ragatha’s expression softened, though there was a heaviness in her eyes. “Pomni… he was different, once. I saw it when he first came here.”

Pomni blinked. “…Different how?”

Zooble gave a low grunt, but let Ragatha talk. She drew in a slow breath.

“When Jax first arrived, he was scared—just like the rest of us. But instead of showing it, he covered it up with jokes. At first, it was harmless. He’d hang around me, make me laugh, distract everyone from the fear of what we’d lost. And I thought… maybe it was his way of coping. Maybe he was just trying to help.”

She sighed, looking down at her hands.

“But then the jokes… shifted. He realized people would laugh harder if the punchline was one of us. If it stung. He pushed boundaries, needled into insecurities—and the more uncomfortable we got, the funnier it seemed to him. I told him it hurt, Pomni. I told him to stop. And he just smiled and said I needed thicker skin.”

Zooble rolled their eyes. “Classic Jax. Does it to us all."

Ragatha's face twisted nervously, as if recalling these moments hurt. Her voice growing quieter now. “That’s what he does. He gets close, makes it feel like he cares… and then the second you start to trust him, he turns it into a game. I don’t want you to be his next joke.”

Pomni’s chest tightened. She thought of Jax sprawled in her room earlier, the way he’d stayed for hours just listening to music, teasing her off-key humming. That hadn’t felt cruel. That had felt… safe.

“…That’s not the Jax I know,” she whispered, but the words rang hollow even to her. She trusted Ragatha to believe what she had to say. But she liked Jax.

She enjoyed his company the most in this wretched digital world. And yes he may have some issues. But that doesn't mean to give up somebody. Everyone has their own experiences, their own coping mechanisms - sure his was a little problematic. Look at where they are for Christ sake! Nobody here can be expected to act like a normal person! 

But then again . . . He might be the reason his frog friend di -ur- abstracted - as they call it here . .  .  .    .    . 

The thought reverberated through her entire body, a shock to her system at the realization. But she didn't know that story beside the vision in the maze. 

But. Besides that. He's been the best experience of the whole circus. Since the stupid sauce incident we haven't spent a moment apart.

Pomni’s cheeks burned hotter. She must look like some love-struck puppy, always trailing after him.

Ragatha gave her hand a small squeeze. “Please. Just… be careful.”

Pomni opened her mouth, hesitated, then blurted before she could stop herself: “Did he—” her voice caught, “—did he used to have a frog friend?”

Ragatha froze. Her smile dropped, her eyes widening. “…Ribbit.” The name slipped out like something fragile, something she hadn’t spoken in a long time.

Pomni’s stomach knotted.

Ragatha leaned in closer, her voice hushed. “How do you know about him? Did Jax… tell you?”

Pomni shook her head quickly, flustered. “No, I— it was more like a vision. In the maze. I just… saw it.” She shrugged, trying to make it sound less strange than it was.

Zooble raised a brow, curiosity flickering across their face. "In the card castle?"

Pomni nodded. 

Ragatha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her hand tightening around Pomni’s. “Then you already know what happened. Jax was closest to Ribbit. And when Ribbit abstracted…” Her voice faltered, heavy with something like guilt. “…he laughed it off. Like it wasn’t his fault. But I saw him, Pomni. He blamed himself. And with the way he treated Ribbit— all of us really- ” she shook her head, “—well, I hate to say it.  But let’s just say I wouldn’t disagree with him carrying that guilt.”

Pomni’s breath hitched. That grin in her memory—the one she thought was lazy, carefree—suddenly felt like it might have been hiding something else entirely.

She looked away, arms curling around herself. “…That may be true.” The words tasted sour on her tongue. She hesitated, then pushed on, softer. “But he’s still really young. And look at where we are.” She gestured vaguely to the endless digital walls around them. “You can’t expect anyone to cope… well. Not here.”

Zooble huffed. “oh come on. Those are just excuses.”

Ragatha’s gaze stayed on her, full of that older-sister worry. “Just… don’t let sympathy blind you, Pomni. You can care for him and still protect yourself.” She blinked sadly. "I don't want you becoming his next punchline."

Pomni nodded faintly, though her chest felt heavier than before.

Pomni lingered a little too long after the conversation, fingers twitching as she finally excused herself. Ragatha’s worried eyes followed her all the way down the hall, like invisible threads tugging at her shoulders.

By the time she slipped back into her room, Jax was sprawled across her bed like he owned it. One leg dangling off the edge, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling with that lazy smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Finally,” he drawled without looking at her. “What’d you do, stop and help Ragatha organize her fiftythousandth teacups again?”

Normally, Pomni would laugh. Normally, she’d roll her eyes and fire something back. Instead, her chest felt tight. She just stood there, watching him.

Jax’s eyes flicked sideways, catching her silence. The smirk faltered, only for a second. “What?” he said, sharper and flatter than usual. “You look like somebody died.” 

Pomni swallowed. The image of Ribbit’s bright smile—then the warped, flickering static of his abstraction—flashed in her mind. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“…Nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly. She forced a smile. “I just… took longer than I thought.” Her nerves getting the best of her. She's never been a good actor. 

Jax sat up, leaning forward, eyes narrowing. He studied her like he was trying to catch her in a lie. Then, softer—almost uncharacteristically—“They say something to you?”

The question hit like a dart.

Pomni blinked. “…Who?”

Jax’s smirk returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time. He tapped his temple like he knew exactly who. “Don’t play dumb. Ragatha’s been trying to ‘save’ people from me since day one.”

Pomni’s stomach lurched at his words, but she forced her hands to unclench. She didn’t want to hold anything against him. Not when she didn’t know the full story. Not when she liked him too much to only look at him through Ragatha’s eyes. She had to see him from her own view. She liked him too much to just leave him behind.

She crossed the room, perching on the edge of the bed beside him. “They didn’t say anything worth repeating,” she said lightly, though her voice felt stiff in her throat.

Jax tilted his head, studying her. For a moment, she thought he’d press—needle her until the truth fell out. But then he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Figures.” He leaned back again, folding his arms behind his head like nothing had happened. “Ragatha thinks she’s everybody’s babysitter.”

Pomni let out a soft laugh. He didn’t look dangerous. He didn’t look cruel.

He looked… tired. Like the jokes were just smoke and mirrors he barely had the energy to hold up anymore.

Pomni’s chest tightened. Ragatha’s words echoed, but she shoved them aside and sat down beside him.

Maybe everyone else had already decided who he was. Maybe they only saw the sharp edges, the smirks that cut too deep.

But she’d seen something else—fleeting, fragile. And she couldn’t shake the thought that if she just understood him better, if she stayed close enough, maybe that version of him would stay..

God. I really am just a lovesick puppy.

Her chest tightened as the words echoed in her head. She tensed, catching herself.

Am I even thinking clearly?

The silence pressed in, Jax’s steady breathing filling the room. 

Chapter Text

Jax walked down the hall. Full of nervous energy, but hiding it well. Although he was alone so there wasn't any point to it.

It had been a day since Pomni and him last hung out. He couldn't help but think that she was already slipping away from him. 

He shook his head. Oh whatever. I only care because she's new. Once this obsession wears off I'll hate her like the rest of them. His smile flickered. What? That's no way to think of your friend. She's not a toy. Don't do that. It had only been a few hours, and he missed her so much. He clenched his hands, familiar insecurity bubbling to the surface. He cared too much about her. This happens every time. I'm going to fuck it up somehow. I can feel it.

Stop thinking! His thoughts always twisted everything. Shove it down. 

But he missed her. He had to see her again—just a quick thing, nothing serious. She wouldn’t notice how desperate he felt if he acted fast enough.

A little spark flashed in his mind. Aha!

He straightened, brushing off the flicker of doubt, smirk sliding back onto his face. “Perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “Time to drag the newbie into something fun.”

With that, he strode down the hall, energy coiled and ready, masking every bit of the nervous chaos roiling beneath. The Digital Pool would do. Of course it would. Jax walked down the hall, mind buzzing with his “aha” plan. He barely registered the corners of the hall—until a burst of laughter stopped him in his tracks.

Zooble and Gangle were walking toward him, shoulder to shoulder, heads thrown back with that careless, loud laughter.

His stomach twisted, sharp and sour. The feeling rose fast, like bile. What was that—envy? Annoyance? Both? He shoved his hands into his pockets, jaw clenching. “Cute,” he muttered under his breath, too quiet for them to hear. His voice dripped sarcasm, but it didn’t make the ache in his chest go away.

Pathetic, he told himself. Why do I care who she laughs with?

He opened his mouth—half to say hi, half to warn them away with a snappy remark—but they didn’t even look. Not a glance, not a smirk, not even a scolding. They just passed, completely ignoring him. Like he was invisible.

They did that on purpose. A deep anger began to bubble underneath his surface. He thought about their times together. He cared for Gangle.. but . . . That insecure feeling picked at his fur some more. Embarrassment rising in his stomach mixed with too much shame. A cocktail of emotions swirling together in less than a second - Sending him into a quick panic. But he hid it well. Mask firmly in place.

Jax froze as they disappeared around the corner. A low chuckle slipped past his lips, bitter and nervous. “Right. Of course. Just… whatever.” He shook his head, trying to shake the emotions. Gangle doesn't need me anymore. Fine. Whatever. Heart hammering. They’re laughing at me. Definitely at me. Probably warning Pomni behind my back. She’s gonna see them, see me… and it’s over before it even started. Why do I even try. Dread sinking into every part of him.

They all hate me. It's deserved though - it only makes sense for them. I've been horrible. . .

His hands clenched at his sides. I can’t be this… pathetic. Why do I care so much? It’s just been a few hours. A few hours, and I’m spiraling. Classic me. 

The thought finished itself in his head like a verdict, heavy and stupid. He pressed his palms to his temples, as if he could physically squeeze these stupid thoughts out of his skull. Everyone hates me. I deserve it. I mess up everything. Great. Classic Jax. A laugh, too small and shaky, escaped him. Stop. Stop being melodramatic. He smoothed back his fur on his head, eyes skimming the hallway.

But the picture of Zooble and Gangle laughing—easy, comfortable—kept replaying, and it gnawed at him. Gangle was with them. She was laughing with them. Not with me. Maybe she won’t want me around. The idea landed like a punch. Fine then. I don't need her anymore either.

He inhaled, shallow and quick. This wasn’t helping. Telling himself he was pathetic felt performative and pointless; doing something felt better. Even if that “something” was dumb. Even if it would only make him look worse. He hoped it wouldn't. He exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. No. I can’t think about them. Just get to her. Get her out of here before… before…

With one last shake of his head, he forced his pace forward, rehearsing his smirk in his mind. “Time to drag the newbie into something fun. She won’t even know what hit her.” He chuckled into the empty hallway. Pretending to performing for an invisible audience. It was the only way he stayed sane. That lie gave him purpose. 

"God I'm stupid."

Jax forced down the churn of thoughts Zooble and Gangle had stirred. He reached Pomni’s door, smirk sliding into place like armor. A sharp knock sounded against the wood.

“Come on,” he called through the door, voice flat. “I’m bored, and there’s more for you to see.”

Pomni appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “More… like what?” Her presence already calming down his inner thoughts. Not completely. But enough for him to feel lighter.

He tilted his head, letting the grin do half the work. “The pools. The Digital Pool. You’ve got to see it. It's a ton of fun.” He chuckled. "The others don't know about them."

Pomni hesitated a heartbeat, catching something behind his usual swagger—the flicker of nervousness he tried to bury beneath that smirk. He straightened unconsciously, like her silence was a weight pressing down on him.

“Hm… I don’t know…” she murmured, mostly to herself.

The way his ears twitched, his shoulders dipping just slightly, made it clear he’d heard. For a moment, he seemed to shrink.

“Trust me,” Jax said quickly, smiling brighter than usual, almost beaming. Please, Pomni. The thought throbbed like a pulse. Another darker one darted across his mind—I could just drag her— NO! He slammed the thought down, the corners of his smile tightening.

Pomni studied him, turning it over in her head. Should she really trust him? He looked genuine. Kinder than he wanted anyone to believe. Sure, the past few days had been full of small moments, but mostly ones where she soothed him—where she was his anchor. Was that really trust? Or was it just what Ragatha had warned her about?

Her words echoed: He’ll use you.

But Pomni’s gut said otherwise. I’m going to choose to trust him, she decided. What else was there to do? Curiosity hummed in her chest, restless and alive. Alright Ragatha, let's see if your right. 

She let a mischievous smile curl across her lips. “Alright… lead the way.”

Jax’s ears flicked straight in satisfaction. “That’s the spirit, Pomni.” His voice sounded tired. But he smiled wide. 

She shut the door behind her, locking it. They began to walk towards wherever Jax was leading her. Following him down to these "digital pools."

Jax was lost in thought immediately after that. Spirals of bad scenarios springing into his mind. But he shoved those feelings deep down with some glue and with the saying "I'm an animated character in a funny TV show!". Like a band aid on a gash wound. He almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that coping mechanism was. Luckily where they were going he felt . . .

. . .Different. He was sure Pomni would love it too.

“So,” she said warmly, breaking the silence, “you show everyone these Digital Pools?” Her voice distracting him from the moment earlier as they sauntered together through the hallways. 

Jax snorted. “Definitely not. It just depends. Some people can’t handle it. These pools aren't like what you think. Show the wrong person and they'll freak. Like if I showed Raggy, she might abstract on the spot.” He flicked his ears, with a mischievous chuckle. “Which would be hilarious- But not very fun. You seem… manageable, though.” His smirk creeping higher on his face.

Pomni smiled faintly. “Manageable? That sounds like a compliment.” Choosing not to bring up the Ragatha comment. 

“Take it however you want. But don’t get too flattered, ‘Manageable’ just means you won’t cry or glitch out on me. Low bar.” He clarified. “I don’t do compliments unless they’re warranted.”

She glanced at him, noting the way he moved—carefree on the surface, but something subtle twitching in his posture betrayed nerves he wasn’t admitting, and she could sense it. Funny, I did always like the bad boys. She blushed at the thought.

But then she felt a pang of shame. I have been warned against doing this. 

"He get's close, makes it feels like he cares ... and then the second you start to trust him . . . he turns it into a game." Ragatha’s warning from the day earlier pressed against the back of her skull like a weight. But she blinked it away. 

Considering where I am - none of this is my old life. These people are completely new to me. This world is new to me. I'm allowed to choose my friends.

“So… you go to these strange pools often?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light, to Direct away from both of their obvious overthinking.

“Yeah, when I’m bored. Or restless. Or plotting my inevitable world domination,” he said with mock seriousness, and his eyes went wide at the words. Chuckling quietly at his own joke. “Mostly bored, though.”

Pomni laughed softly, catching onto the joke. Jax’s grin widened a little.

“Ah! There it is!” Jax’s voice rang with sudden excitement as he strode ahead. At the end of a corridor she swore hadn’t been there a minute ago stood a massive red door, glossy and out of place against the glowing walls.

He grabbed the handle and yanked it open with a flourish. “Tada!” He bent at the waist, bowing with exaggerated dramatics.

Pomni blinked, caught off guard by what waited inside. The walls weren’t neon or glitching—they were lined with tiny, dull off-white tiles. Stark. Uniform. Almost… human. The sharp scent of chlorine hit her in a wave, stinging her nose, dragging her back to memories of childhood swim lessons and humid summer afternoons.

For a dizzying second, it felt like stepping out of the circus entirely—like she could walk in and hear real voices echoing off the walls, water slapping against the sides. It was grounding. Too grounding.

“This… this smells like…” she trailed off, unable to put it into words.

“Like real life?” Jax offered smoothly, a sly grin tugging at his mouth. He raised his arms in mock-presentation. “After you.”

“Careful,” he added as she stepped past the frame, his tone airy but his eyes flicking to the wall. One hand gestured lazily toward a patch that shimmered, bending at odd angles. “These halls… they’ve got moods. Sometimes they like to play.”

He followed her inside, pulling the door shut behind them with a sharp click.

Almost instantly, the walls stirred. The red door shuddered once, then the tiles began crawling over it—small, square hands unfurling like roots. They twisted, crept, stretched, until the wood was smothered whole. The vines of tile expanded and smoothed, flattening into place until there was nothing left. No frame. No seam. Just a seamless wall of sterile white.

“See?” Jax said lightly, one arm sweeping toward the spot as the other rested on his hip. The grin was there, but his tail twitched once, betraying the tension underneath. “Door’s gone. Guess we’re stuck with each other now.”

Pomni’s stomach lurched as the last trace of red disappeared into smooth tile. Her breath hitched. “Wait—what? Where’s the door?!”

Jax gave a little shrug, smirk still plastered on his face. “Told you. Moods. Guess it’s in a disappearing kind of mood today.”

Her pulse hammered, hands curling tight at her sides. “That’s not funny, Jax. What if it doesn’t come back? What if we’re just—” She cut herself off, forcing her voice steady. She arched a brow, masking the fear under a thin veneer of sarcasm. “Wow. Great tour guide. Ten out of ten. Totally not a death trap.”

He chuckled, leaning against the wall as if nothing was wrong. “Relax, Pomni. These halls always spit you back out. Might be five minutes, might be five hours, but it happens.”

Pomni narrowed her eyes, catching the slight twitch of his ears, the faint strain under his voice. “You don’t sound half as confident as you’re pretending.”

For half a second, his grin faltered. Then it snapped back into place. “Good. Means you’re paying attention.”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, recovering her senses. Trying to keep it light despite her fear. That wall thing just wasn't what she expected. So it took her a second to adjust. “So the tail and ear flicking thing is…?” 

His ears twitched, caught by surprise. “That’s style. You wouldn’t get it.” His voice bright. Not reacting to her fear.

Pomni actually laughed—quiet, but real. The sound echoed strangely in the corridor, bouncing back warped, like a recording played half a beat late. 

Jax laughed. His hands into his pockets, forcing a casual smirk. “See? Told you. Free comedy show. You’re welcome.” He motioned her to start walking. So they began strolling down the corridor together.

She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, their footsteps falling back into rhythm.

The corridor pulsed brighter, just once, and Jax’s reflection in the wall lingered a fraction too long, its grin twisting sharper than the real one.

Pomni’s eyes darted from surface to surface, catching fragments—ears twitching a beat late, a smirk that didn’t fade when the real Jax’s did, eyes glowing faintly in the tile. Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to keep walking, not wanting to give away how unsettled she was.

He noticed her nervousness, but kept walking calmly. “Don’t look too hard at the walls, Pomni. They’ll start looking back.” As if to mock her. "And relax! We're not in danger."

"Do you not sense that?" She asked, fidgeting with her hands. "Like we're being watched. This place is really creepy Jax."

He rolled his eyes. "You sound like Ragatha."

Pomni followed closely, choosing not to answer that. Jeez they really seem to hate each other. 

But something still felt off. The walls bent slightly as they passed, shadows stretched and twisted where they shouldn’t. Every step they took echoed twice, faint and mismatched, as if the corridor itself had memorized their movements and was replaying them slightly offbeat.

“Uh… are you sure this is the right way?” she asked, unease slipping into her voice.

Jax waved a hand like it was nothing. “Positive. Or at least… y’know…” His smirk flickered. “No yeah—this is the right way.” He forced a laugh through his teeth, shoulders rolling back into confidence.

“Relax, seriously. Just follow me. Try not to get eaten by the walls.”

Before she could protest, he jabbed a finger into her side, quick and mischievous.

Pomni yelped and swatted at him, a laugh bubbling out despite the tension. The sound echoed weirdly, a half-second behind, warped and hollow like someone else was laughing with them.

Her smile faltered. “...Did you hear that?”

Jax’s ears twitched, but his grin didn’t budge. “Hear what? Sounded like you laughing to me.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets, tail flicking as he started forward again. “C’mon, newbie. Don’t let the walls get in your head.”

But his steps quickened, just slightly as they rounded a corner. Stepping through an archway.

The room stretched out like a swallowed ocean, the edges blurring until sight gave up and suggested infinity. The silver-blue surface reflected the ceiling in impossible, tessellated angles; lines of code skimmed across the water like minnows, rippling and rearranging themselves as if someone was steadily rewriting the world beneath the skin of the pool. It was beautiful in a way that felt wrong — the kind of beautiful that makes your throat tight.

Pomni stepped closer until the light painted her face in soft, moving shards. Every sensible instinct told her to pull back; something watched in the blur past the room’s rim, something patient and curious. Her reflection in the oversized pool tilted a hair too late, lips twisting into a shape she hadn’t made.

A whisper of static threaded through the air, a sound like a voice trying to remember a word. Pomni’s breath fogged for a second; the hairs along her arms prickled. She glanced over her shoulder for Jax — and saw him at the far rim, still leaning with that easy, practiced smirk. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He was watching the water the way someone watches an old wound.

“You okay?” he called, the smirk sliding into something softer, almost clumsy.

“Yeah,” she lied, though the word came out thin. “It’s… huge.”

Jax leaned casual against the edge, smirk present but softer than usual. “Yeah — beautiful, isn’t it? There are nicer rooms, but this is always the first one.” His eyes shimmered a little at the water, like he was seeing something only he remembered. He caught her staring and coughed, forcing his face back into his practiced smirk. “Yeah — it’s pretty nice here if you can get over the creepy part. Hah.”

Pomni’s chest unclenched a fraction watching him relax. For one ridiculous moment she forgot the warped reflections and the vanished door. Then she turned back to the lake and the cold crawled through her again — her reflection lagged a breath behind her. “This place is really creepy, though.”

Jax laughed, though his ears dipped back, offended but trying not to show it. “I know, right? Peak vacation spot compared to the rest of this dump. Five stars, free reflections, comes with complimentary existential dread.” He glanced at her properly then, and the joke thinned. Seeing her scared hit him sharper than he expected.

He brightened with that practiced shrug. “But the best part? We’re completely alone. No goals to chase, no acting, no idiots judging you every minute.” He threw his arms up like a salesman. “It’s the first place I found where Cain can’t find us. No annoying AI, no—” He paused, oddly pleased. “— It's the most calming place in this garbage world.”

Pomni watched him, the warmth of that little confession settling between them. She wanted to say something that would keep him from pulling the mask back on. Instead she simply nodded.

The pool answered them: the surface shivered, like a screen flicking through frames. For a heartbeat the water showed a flat, familiar image — a red door framed in tiles — and then the image folded inward until it was gone. The light on the ceiling hiccupped; somewhere far off something clicked, once.

Jax’s hand found the lip of the pool and tightened, as if bracing. “Huh,” he said, quiet. “You see that?”

Pomni’s breath hitched. “The door,” she whispered.

He stared at the place the water had shown, a shadow passing over his expression. “Yeah,” he murmured. “The pool's likes to mess with people.”

She hugged herself. Wrapping her arms tightly around her body.

Jax’s ears twitched, picking up on her tension. He shifted closer, leaning slightly but careful not to crowd her. “It does,” he admitted, voice low. “But… this is just the first pool room. Wait till you see the other rooms."

The tiles hummed around them, patient and waiting. The waves of the impossibly large pool began to splash. As if activated from their presence. “This place is odd.” She shivered. 

Jax lowered his voice like he was letting her in on a secret. “Odd, yeah. And I mean—definitely interesting. Isn’t that better than boring?”
Huh. I didn’t expect her to be scared. A prickle of guilt flickered through him, then he shoved it down. No point focusing on that.
“This is where I come when I need to be alone. Not just locked in my room—free.” His voice went quiet on that last word, strange and small.

Pomni blinked at him. For a second the smirk didn’t return; his face softened in a way she’d only caught in flashes before. The pool’s glow painted his features in silver; the admission hung between them, awkward and true.

She took a breath. “Free how?” she asked, because she wanted to know, and because she wanted to give him the space to say it.

Jax’s eyes flicked to the water as if the answer might be written on its surface. “No one watches. No one judges. No scripts.” He shrugged, like that should explain everything and nothing. “It’s the only place that feels like — I can breathe, y’know?”

Before she could answer, the pool fluttered. The surface folded like a page being turned and, for a heartbeat, showed them a flash: the red door framed in tile, caught like a paused film. Then the image dissolved and the water was plain again.

Jax’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look at her right away—he looked at the place the pool had shown, small and unreadable. “See?” he said, low. “It remembers. Shows things it thinks we should see.”

She shuddered.

He let out a sound that was half laugh, half relief.  “Yeah. Stay close,” he said, and this time the words were an actual request, not a dare. They left the big odd distorted room, going down yet another corridor. The hall ahead seemed to lengthen, as if whatever the pool had remembered pulled at the paths themselves.

Chapter Text

The group sprawled across the couches, chatter and laughter bouncing off the walls. Zooble and Gangle sitting together across from Jax and pomni, snickering over some inside joke, while Ragatha shook her head, grinning softly. Kinger sat on the opposite end of the same couch as her.

“I still can’t believe you let that bridge collapse under you,” Jax teased, pointing at Ragatha. “I mean, really—how does someone trip over literally nothing?” He was digging into a past adventure Pomni hadn’t been there for.

Ragatha laughed nervously. “It was a complex series of unfortunate events, okay? Not my fault your plan was questionable.” Her voice was high pitch, full of anxiety.

Ragatha felt out of place out of place among them all. Jax's presence unnerved her. Gangle and Zooble were getting closer. Kinger wasn't coherent.

And Pomni - her eyes lowered. No one here likes me, do they? Her heart filled with a familiar loneliness. 

She felt ashamed of the way she warned Pomni. Not only did it seem to chase her right into his arms. They ran off to who the hell now's where yesterday together. But now-? Now she bet Pomni wouldn't even want to spend time after gossiping the way she did. 

Jax caught her anxiety instantly, his grin sharpening. He could see the way Ragatha’s laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes, the nervous flicker as she tried to keep up.

It made him curious—just how easy would it be to push her until she snapped? Especially in front of everyone. 

A little revenge for what she’d whispered to Pomni the other day.

He was pretty sure Ragatha could sense it too, with the way she kept darting glances at him like she expected a strike. That only made him chuckle, leaning back into the chaos of their laughter.

Not now—this was too perfect a moment to ruin. But later? He’d get his payback.

He wondered, briefly, what Pomni would say if she knew what he was thinking. Would she scold him? Laugh at him? The thought made his grin widen ever so slightly. Best not to tell her.

“Oh, please,” Jax shot back, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Questionable? It was hilarious. And let’s not even talk about Gangle here.” He jabbed Pomni’s shoulder playfully. “The way she screamed when the potion exploded—like a little fireworks-fearing kitten.” 

Pomni chuckled. 

She didn't have much to add this to conversation. But she saw the way Jax was dominating the conversation, poking at all of their insecurities. She watched the others. Feeling a little left out, but it wasn't bad.

Gangle groaned, defending herself. “I did not scream like that.” 

“You did,” Jax said, perfectly deadpan. “And honestly, I’ve never seen anyone bounce off a wall like that. Truly an art form.” 

Beneath the teasing, a sharp stab of irritation cut through him—anger from yesterday, seeing her happy with Zooble, flaring unbidden. The way they had walked past him without even looking at him.

Thoughts of ways to needle her, to get back at her, clawed at the edges of his mind. He knew it wasn’t fair to assume they did it on purpose, but the flare of resentment wrapped around his insides anyway.

Still, he masked it effortlessly. His grin stretched wide, eyes sparkling with mischief, and his voice carried the teasing ease of someone who had no hint of a storm beneath.

He's always been a good actor. 

Kinger wheezed with laughter. “Yes, I remember that! Still can’t believe you didn’t knock yourself out Gangle.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jax said, smirking as his eyes slid to Kinger. “You weren’t exactly graceful either. That little ‘slide across the floor’ moment? Pure comedy gold.”

Kinger threw up his hands in protest. “Hey! That was a strategic dodge!”

Jax laughed along with Kinger.

“You never let anyone live anything down, do you?” Ragatha asked, smiling through a strained laugh.

“Of course not,” Jax said, leaning back with a triumphant grin. But his face crinkled, his voice jabbing. “That’s part of my charm. Someone has to keep you all humble.”

Ragatha, however, felt her face pinch despite her laugh. “Uh… yeah. Hilarious.”

Pomni looked at Ragatha, expression flat. She could feel the shift in energy, subtle but undeniable, like a thread tugging at the edges of the room.

Jax sensed it as well. Pleased with himself. Good—she deserved to be upset. His grin was wide. 

“Oh, come on, Ragatha. He's not trying pick on anyone,” Kinger said, trying to calm her down, his voice gentle amidst the tension. As if he couldn't feel it. "We're okay."

Another reluctant chuckle escaped her. 

Seizing momentum, Jax turned on Zooble. “Speaking of laughs—should we bring up your epic cart dismount? You swore you had it under control.”

Zooble groaned. “Don’t.”

“Oh, we’re talking about it,” Jax grinned. “You didn’t just fall—you rolled. Like a barrel down a hill. I thought we’d have to chase you out of the zone.”

Gangle wheezed. “Oh my gosh, you did roll, like three times!”

“I was dodging!” Zooble insisted. “That was strategy!” Their voice low and raspy.

“Sure,” Jax said mock-serious. “A strategy to impersonate roadkill.”

Zooble groaned, dragging their hands down their face. But when they saw Gangle’s mask glowing with joy, they chuckled low. “Fine, fine. But I’d like to see you try dodging those creepy birds Cain made.”

Clearly Gangle doesn't need me. Jax's thoughts spit like venom at him. 

“Oh, you mean the ones with the glowing eyes?” Jax shot back instantly, smirking. “Please. They practically lined up to be dazzled by me. Can’t blame ’em, really.” He elbowed Pomni's side. Chuckling to himself. 

Pomni nervously smiled at him. Laughing slightly with him. 

Zooble snorted. “More like they were trying to eat you. You were running faster than Kinger that day.”

Kinger’s eyes widened, his whole body stiffening like he’d been called out. “I do not run fast. I… I scuttle!”

Jax leaned back, smirking, and jabbed playfully at Kinger. “Oh, come on, that was art. Truly cinematic. I half-expected a slow-motion replay with dramatic music.”

That sent Gangle into a fit of giggles, Zooble wheezing beside her. Pomnis chest lightened seeing them laughing together.

“Careful Zooble,” Jax said smoothly. “What if you roll off the couch? We’ll have to send Gangle after you with a net.”

,Ragatha pushed her hair behind her ear. She looked unnerved, her eyes flickering between them all. 

But Jax wasn’t done. His eyes gleamed as he leaned in. “Seriously, though—I’ve seen trash cans with better balance. Maybe next time we just strap wheels on you and call it a day.”

That earned another laugh from Zooble, but it was tight, defensive. “Alright, alright. Drop it, man.”

The others were still cracking up, but the line had blurred. Jax leaned back, smug, grin wide as if nothing had shifted. Pomni, however, caught the edge in Zooble’s voice. Her laughter faltered. She saw the sting behind the fun—the way Jax’s teasing could cut if he pushed too far.

Zooble caught her eye from across the couch, giving her an unreadable look. Not quite angry, not quite amused—just sharp enough to make Pomni’s chest tighten. For a heartbeat, Pomni thought they looked… sorry for her. Like they saw something she didn’t.

She opened her mouth, ready to say something—anything—but before the words came, Zooble muttered, “Still better than the time you tripped over your own feet, Jax.”

That set the group off. Gangle practically wheezed herself into a knot, Ragatha buried her face in her hands hiding her snickers. Jax threw up his hands dramatically, laughing despite himself. 

But his thoughts demanded him to defend himself. His smirk grew. Hide it. His mask was staying in place today. He needed to be more careful.

Pomni laughed too, breathless. Yet she could sense all the secrets tangled in the air, the unspoken histories behind every grin and groan, every teasing jab.

Even in the chaos, there was a rhythm, a shared understanding that went beyond words. And somewhere beneath it all, a quiet pulse of tension lingered—threads only she could feel, connecting Jax, Ragatha, Zooble, and the rest in subtle, intricate ways.

And then—pop!

Cain appeared in front of the couches, as though he’d stepped right out of the air itself. Floating above like he always did. Bubble right beside him.

“Well, well, well,” he crooned, spreading his arms wide. “Look at you all, basking in nostalgia. How quaint. But I think it’s high time for a new adventure, don’t you?”

The group’s laughter stuttered to a halt, their joy folding into wary silence.

Zooble looked up at him, unimpressed. “I’m not in the mood today.” They sighed, slouching deeper into the couch.

Cain’s grin only sharpened. “Oh, but that’s perfect! Adventures are never about being in the mood. They’re about the thrill of the unexpected! The push, the pull, the glorious chaos of it all.”

 "Can we do something like the campfire adventure last time? I really enjoyed that." Ragatha's voice was tense. 

"Oh no no no dear adventurer. That was a special case!"

Ragatha slouched. oh. Right. "Alright."

Zooble crossed their arms, frowning. “Can’t you just leave us alone for once?”

Cain gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like she’d wounded him. “Leave you alone? Darling Zooble, that would be cruel. You’d all rot in this little dollhouse without my… guidance.”

Cain’s grin twitched when they didn't respond, the cheer in his tone slipping into something sharper. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Bedside's, I thought our campfire adventure went well! Come on, Zooble!”

Zooble crossed their arms, staring Cain down. “Yeah, well, there’s a difference between us sitting around a campfire and relaxing—compared to how weird your adventures usually are." He looked genuinely hurt. "You didn’t think I’d suddenly want to do whatever story you whipped up for us after that, did you?”

Cain froze for a beat, his grin brittle, like glass about to crack. Then he barked a laugh, too loud, too forced. “Oh, Zooble, Zooble, Zooble…” He wagged a finger at them. “You talk as if you have a choice.”

"I do! Or at least I should."

Jax smirked, propping his chin on his hand. “Careful, Zoobs, you’re hurting his feelings.” 

Zooble glared at Jax.

Cain froze, his grin twitching at the edges. Then, with a sharp flick of his hands, he snapped back into his sing-song tone. “Oh come on! I haven’t even told you what the adventure is!”

Zooble groaned and sank deeper into the couch. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Gangle fiddled with her mask, her voice small. “It… it might not be that bad…”

"Don't encourage him Gangle. He's like a dog. Give him some food and he'll just expect it forever afterwards."

Cain whirled on her, eyes gleaming. “Thank you, Gangle! At least someone here still believes in me.”

“Believe is a strong word,” Jax muttered, grinning.

Bubble giggled beside Cain. "I know a few strong words."

Cain’s grin stretched wider, ignoring bubble entirely. “Strong words make for strong stories. And lucky for you all—I’ve got just the thing.”

Bubble bobbed happily, tilting toward Cain like a conspirator. “Oooh, should I tell them? Can I tell them? Pleeease?”

Cain waved them off with theatrical flair, eyes locked on the group. “Patience, Bubble. Timing is everything.”

Before anyone could respond, the floor beneath the couches shifted, then yawned open like a mouth ready to swallow them whole. A rush of wind and the scent of old parchment hit them, and in a heartbeat, the group was falling through darkness. 

"Oh great, now we're falling. Thanks Zoob."

"This is Cain's fault, not mine!"

"You got him angry." Jax's voice was cool and even.

Then they crashed into the floor. All of them groaning, and standing up.

The ground was polished marble that stretched into infinity. Towering bookshelves spiraled upward, ladders rolling on their own, and tomes flapped like restless birds. Lanterns floated overhead, casting a warm, flickering light over aisles that seemed to twist and rearrange themselves at will.

Pomni blinked, taking it all in. “Wh-where are we?”

Jax rubbed his head. "A library?" He said from his spot on the floor.

"Oh I love library's." Kinger said from the side. 

Cain appeared on a balcony above, arms spread in triumph, Bubble bouncing excitedly at his side. “Welcome, my dear friends, to the Library of Living Stories! Every book, an adventure. Every page, a trap. And, of course…” He grinned wolfishly, “every ending is mine to write.”

A thick tome dropped from the nearest shelf, pages glowing, and a gust of wind erupted, tugging at the group, pulling them closer.

“Uh—guys?” Ragatha stammered, heels scraping the marble as she struggled against the pull.

“Don’t—don’t let it suck you in!” Zooble yelled.

Cain’s unmistakable cheery tone a contrast to the group struggling against the tomes pull. “Remember, my dear adventurers—though your paths may differ, your goal is the same! To escape these pages, you must each find the Keys of your Stories. Only when you have all three will the library release you from its clutches!”

With a final whoosh, the group was drawn into the glowing pages, screams mixing with laughter and panic.

Cain laughed, snapping the book shut with a flourish. “And so… the story begins.” 

Bubble bobbed closer, their voice sing-song. “Do we get popcorn this time? Stories are boring without snacks.”

Cain’s grin twitched at the edges, his teeth-eyes narrowing in irritation. “It’s a library, Bubble. Not a theater.”

Bubble giggled anyway, drifting in lazy circles. “Then I want candy books. Imagine—lick the pages, get a sugar rush.”

Cain’s jaw flexed, his polished theatrics straining as he hissed, “You’re ruining my atmosphere.”

Jax tumbled through a shimmering portal, landing on a metal platform that groaned under their weight. His eyes opened, gazing around from the spot where he landed flat on his back.

Rotating gears stretched into dizzying lengths above them, each toothed wheel ticking in impossible synchrony. Staircases spiraled upward, the steps themselves solid blocks that moved with a "woosh" every few seconds pulling into the wall, alternating steps. Platforms to give them breaks every little bit. The place smelled so strongly of metal. The sounds vibrating through the air.

Jax pushed himself up from the cold metal. Rubbing the back of his head. Two times falling through Portals in the same five minutes? That library stop was unnecessary Cain- you could've just sent me here.

Ragatha's voice yelped. And Jax finally looked down to see her laying on the floor. Staring up at the odd sight.

Jax grinned, brushing off dust. “Welcome to your nightmare— or maybe mine. Depends on how you look at it.” He tilted his head, scanning the shifting gears. “Apparently, we need to find some stupid key to get out of here. Which, of course, is hidden somewhere in this perfectly logical death trap of a tower.”

Ragatha’s jaw tightened. She stood up and dusted off her dress. "How do we-"

“By not dying,” Jax interrupted smoothly. “And by me showing you exactly how it’s done.” He shot her a teasing glance, though his eyes flickered over every shadow and shifting staircase, analyzing the mechanics around them. “See those moving blocks going in and out of the wall? Those are our stairs.” Jax gestured lazily, then turned to her with a mocking grin. “Try not to trip on your dress.”

Ragatha’s lips were pressed into a tight line, her hands balled at her sides. She didn’t snap back. She just stared at the shifting blocks, her eyes tracing their rhythm with careful calculation.

The silence hit Jax harder than a retort would have. He tilted his head, grin faltering for half a second. “…What, no witty comeback? No scolding? That’s your thing.”

“I—” Ragatha frowned, her voice tightening. Her face flickered with fear. “What if we fall, Jax?” Her feet scraped the platform as she stepped closer to the edge, eyes darting to the shifting blocks that punched in and out of the wall with mechanical precision. The noise of grinding stone echoed in her ears like a countdown.

“Try not to think about it.” He shrugged, though her panic was written plain as day. His laughter came quick, but his voice softened just enough to sound almost kind. “We’ve gotta go pretty fast to get up these stairs, Rags. No time to overthink it.”

Gosh no. I don’t wanna do this. Now I have to help her, don’t I? Great. I don’t wanna do this. Why Ragatha. Why, why, why. Jax's smiled thinly, eyes narrowing into half-shut slits. Another thing to thank Cain for.

Ragatha flinched at the shift in his expression, her chest tightening as though she’d said the wrong thing. He looked pissed.

Fucking hell. Why her. Why not Pomni? Or even Zooble.

Every tick and clank of the tower made her pulse quicken. 

He let out a long, heavy sigh. “…What if I just carried you up?”

Ragatha blinked, stunned, her face flushing red beneath her porcelain sheen. “E-excuse me?!”

Jax rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. “Relax. It’s not like I want to. I just don’t feel like waiting for you to overthink every single step until we both die in here.” His grin twitched back onto his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Her throat bobbed, words sticking. She hated the idea—hated being a burden, hated being close to him. But the thought of those blocks slamming shut beneath her heels made her legs shake.

“…You wouldn’t,” she muttered, but it sounded more like a plea than a protest.

Jax tilted his head, half-lidded eyes glinting with amusement. “Try me.”

The tower groaned around them, gears shifting with impatient rhythm. He sighed again, sharp and irritated, and extended a hand toward her. “Well? Make up your mind, Rags. Are you climbing on your own, or do you want the express route?"

She shook her head. "No." Her voice quiet. "I can do this! I just need- uh-" Her voice paused as she watched the shifting stones slam in and out of the wall that was covering in gears and blades. Beneath them was just a bed of quick spinning blades and twisting gears. She knew she couldn't actually die. But she wanted to avoid falling into it as much as possible.

"Come on!" Jax hurried. "Don't you wanna be the first one back to the library?"

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing. The blocks snapped in and out of the wall with mechanical precision, each one lined with jagged gears that made her stomach twist. She gripped the railing tighter.

“I said I can do it,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Jax groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, yeah, motivational speech, very touching. But unless you want Cain to start playing dramatic fail music, we don’t have all day.” 

“You’re not helping.” Her voice was high pitched. Laced with anxiety and determination. "Come on Ragatha. You can do this." Hyping herself up.

“Not trying to,” Jax shot back with a grin, already timing the blocks. “I’m trying to move. Big difference.”

She forced her feet forward, her heart thundering with each slam of stone against steel. Her heels scraped the edge of the first block, sparks flying as she steadied herself.

Jax hopped to the next one effortlessly, looking back with infuriating calm. “See? Rhythm. Don’t think, just move. Even you can manage that.”

Ragatha’s jaw clenched. “If I fall, I’m dragging you down with me.” Saying it mostly out of frustration than anything else. Hopping onto another block as the one she was on started to shake, before slamming itself back into its space in the wall. Rhythm. Okay- I can do rhythm. 

He gave her a theatrical bow, smirk never wavering. “Aw, Rags. You do care.”

The tower groaned, gears grinding louder as if daring her to prove him wrong.

The next block lurched forward, grinding against its gears with a metallic screech. Ragatha’s knees wobbled, but she pushed herself across just as it started retracting. Her breath caught in her throat—too close.

“Not bad,” Jax called, hopping two blocks ahead without breaking stride. “I’d give it a six out of ten for form, though. Points off for the panic face.”

Her teeth ground together. “Shut. Up.”

He laughed, the sound bouncing off the steel walls. “What? I’m encouraging you! If I wanted to watch someone flail around, I’d just wait until Pomni tripped again.”

Ragatha steadied herself, chest heaving, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a retort. Rhythm, she reminded herself. Rhythm. Her heel scraped the edge as she leapt again, the world spinning below in a blur of blades and metal.

Jax was waiting on the next platform, leaning against a gear like it was a lounge chair. He raised an eyebrow as she landed beside him, sweat clinging to her porcelain cheek.

“See?” he said, smirk widening. “Told you. Rhythm. I’m a great teacher.”

She leaned against the railing, panting, porcelain hair clinging messily to her face. Her chest rose and fell like she’d just run a marathon.

“Don’t—” she gasped, pointing a shaky finger at him, “call yourself… a teacher. Ever.”

Jax tilted his head, grin sharp as ever, but his eyes lingered on her trembling hands longer than he meant them to. He flicked the thought away before it could stick.

“Fair enough,” he said, stretching his arms like he hadn’t broken a sweat. “You’d make a terrible student anyway. Always arguing with the instructor.”

Ragatha shot him a glare between breaths, though it lacked its usual heat. “Maybe the instructor’s just… awful.” Though her words were panicked. 

“Awful, huh?” Jax chuckled, stepping past her toward the next set of shifting gears. “Guess that makes you my favorite kind of student.” 

Of course, you would think I’m awful. The thought slid in sharp, uninvited, and his smirk tightened as if to strangle it before it grew. He kept moving, hopping onto the next block with the same effortless rhythm.

She blinked, thrown for just a moment, before he hopped again onto the next block. 

She forced her gaze down, locking on the shifting stone beneath her feet. Focus. Just the block. Not the drop. Not him.
One. Two. Three—jump. Her heels struck metal, knees jolting. Okay. Again.

The platform jerked under her weight, retracting with a hiss of steam. She stumbled forward, arms flailing—

Jax caught her wrist before she could pitch backward, yanking her onto the next metal platform with him. The move was seamless for him, humiliating for her. 

“Whoa there, ballerina,” he said, grinning down at her as though they weren’t balanced over a pit of grinding steel. “You almost made that look graceful.”

She didn’t answer. Her fear swallowed her whole, rising up her throat until her words stuck. Her chest hitched, breaths sharp and uneven. The blocks blurred beneath her. Too high, too fast. The hiss of steam from the gears roared in her ears like a monster’s breath.

Her knees buckled. She dropped to the shifting stone, clutching the edges with trembling hands.

“Rags?” Jax’s smirk slipped, his posture stiffening.

“I—I can’t—” Her voice cracked, trembling as hard as her hands. “I can’t breathe—” She grabbed at her head. Laughing tensely to try and calm herself down. 

For a split second, Jax just stood there. A dozen thoughts rattled his head—most of them involving how easy it would be to just leave her here, let the tower eat her alive. God it'd be so easy to just leave her here. Climb up the tower alone. Maybe she'd be stuck here for a while and I could get a break from her. He turned to face the next set of stairs, shifting in and out of the wall. She'd be fine, honestly.

He groaned. But Cain’s stupid “teamwork” rule was wedged in his brain, and Pomni’s wide eyes flashed in his memory like a damn guilt trip. Fine, I guess it's my turn to be the therapist. 

“Fuck.” He turned back to her, crouching low. Lowering his voice. He knew that he was the last person she needed, but he couldn't just leave her here. “Hey. Look at me.”

She didn’t. Her porcelain chest rose and fell in short, frantic bursts. Her painted eye darted everywhere but him. Her pupil was so small, watching the blades swing around them.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, sharper than intended. Her vision snapped to him. Their eye's locking. She looked terrified. Not just of the tower- but of him. But he swallowed down the snappy remark he wanted to desperately make. 

“Hey! Rags. Breathe. In. Out. Match me.” He exaggerated the rhythm, inhaling slow, exhaling slower, his grin replaced by something harder, edged with irritation. “Come on. I don’t got time to drag your ass.”

Her breaths stuttered, uneven, but she tried. She dropped her hands from her hair, placing them flat on the cold metal. Trying to ground herself. 

“That’s it. In. Out. Pretend it’s music or whatever crap you’re into.” His voice softened a notch despite himself. “You’re fine. Just gears. Just rhythm. Nothing’s touching you.”

She breathed, in and out. Breath hitching as a piece of metal fell past them from above. Her breathing quickened again. 

Come on! Work with me. 

His eyes narrowed. “Listen,” he said, crouching beside her. His voice was sharp, almost harsh. “I don’t like you. And I knew for a fact you don’t like me.”

Her eyes blinked at him, wide, uncomprehending, chest heaving. The panic hadn’t vanished—it was still there, coiling tight—but his words anchored her in some strange, infuriating way.

“I… what?” Her voice was small, trembling.

Jax let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “What? That’s the truth. And right now, it doesn’t matter. None of that crap matters except keeping your feet on these damn gears.”

He gestured sharply at the moving stones beneath them, then crouched lower, tone sharpening. “Breathe with me. In… out… In… out…” His hands hovered, ready to catch her if she stumbled, though he refused to admit - out loud - he’d rather throw her into the gear pit. It would rip her about. 

Her hands shook, but she tried, matching his rhythm. The grinding gears, the swinging pendulum—they all faded just enough to make room for something steadier, his voice.

“Good. That’s it. That’s all you need. Focus. Rhythm. Ignore me if you want, just… don’t fall.”

A long pause. Then, almost reluctantly, her voice came back, calmer but still quivering. “O-okay… I… I think I—”

“Good. Now get up. Move. Rhythm. We’ve got a tower to survive, and you’re not doing it by panicking.” He stood up quickly. So done with this. His grin returned, thin and teasing, but his hands didn’t move from her sides. “And afterward? We can go back to hating each other properly.”

"I don't hate you Jax." Her voice was soft. But his gaze sharpened. 

"Don't lie to me Rags. It's not a good look on you."

Her chest heaved, eyes flicking to the spinning gears beneath them, then back to his sharp gaze. “I—I’m not lying,” she whispered, voice trembling.

Jax tilted his head, studying her with half-shut eyes, smirk twitching. “Hmm. Not lying, huh?” He turned away from her. He let the pause stretch just long enough to make her shift uncomfortably, fingers tightening on the railing. His mind swirled with scenarios of the past—all the times he’d mocked her, teased her, pushed her buttons. Every jab, every sly comment flashed behind his eyes like a montage, and a small, begrudging part of him recognized how much he’d enjoyed it.

She had every right to hate him.

His thoughts lingered on the freshest proof of that supposed hate. Pomni’s words in the pools, whispered across the ripples: “She said you might be using me.” She tried to make Pomni hate him. Tried to tear away the first person who’d actually cared about him in a long time. He scowled at her, teeth gritting, fingers curling around the railing. I’m going to throw you into the pit. The thought twisted in his mind, sharp and bitter, a dark urge to punish her for what she’d done.

But then another memory pricked at the edges of his anger. Pomni’s voice, soft but firm: “I want to decide for myself. It’s not fair to judge someone based on gossip.” He had admired her honesty, her kindness—God, if only she were here right now. This would all be so much easier if I was with her.

Another memory followed, sharper this time. Pomni, sitting beside him in his room, her hand resting gently on his chest as he was swallowed by panic. “Don’t you think you should try to be kinder?” His hand shot up almost reflexively to where her hand had been just a few nights ago, a pang of longing twisting through the tension. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

The pit, the tower, Ragatha’s panic—all of it faded slightly as he exhaled, the dark urge easing into something more complicated. Anger, yes—but underneath it, a reluctant clarity. He couldn’t throw her down. Not here. Not like this. Not when the person who truly mattered had once reminded him there was more than just reaction, more than just spite.

Focus. This is not the place to blow up. The gears below waited, a pendulum swung overhead, and the Codex glimmered somewhere in the depths above, holding the key to get out of this place.

“Don’t think,” he muttered, almost to himself, though she heard it clearly. “Just move. Step. Rhythm.” His grin returned, thin and teasing, but his eyes flicked to hers—sharp, calculating, alive. He wanted to needle her, to push her buttons, to see how far he could stretch her patience. But he wanted to get out of here more.

"Come on." He hopped off the metal platform onto the shifting stairs.

Ragatha forced herself to focus, counting the blocks as they shifted in and out like a metallic heartbeat. Step. Step. Step. The spinning stairs above seemed impossible—too fast, too sharp—but she pressed on, heels scraping metal, every muscle taut with concentration.

Jax moved effortlessly ahead, hopping between the blocks with a dancer’s grace, eyes glinting. He glanced back. “Not bad, Rags. Just keep your rhythm.”

She shot him a look, lips pressed tight but didn’t slow down. One misstep, and the pendulum above would swing toward her—though, she reminded herself again, she couldn’t actually die. Still, the thought of falling into the spinning gears below made her stomach churn.

A block beneath her shifted too quickly, sliding out from under her foot. Panic flared. She grabbed at the edge, trying to steady herself, and her arms shook.

Jax crouched on the next stair, hands reaching toward her—not quite touching her, but close enough to promise help if she faltered. “Breathe. In. Out. Step with me.”

Her pulse hammered, but she matched his rhythm, forcing her panic down, counting the steps aloud under her breath as they continued. Step. Step. Step.

“Good,” Jax murmured, almost a whisper, though the teasing edge never fully left his voice. “See? You can do this.”

Ragatha didn’t answer, eyes fixed on the spinning path ahead. Sweat clung to her forehead.

The stairs above twisted faster, a series of pendulums swinging in perfect, cruel timing. Jax leapt onto the next stair, extending a hand without waiting for her permission. “Come on, don’t make me drag you up.”

She hesitated for the briefest moment—then grabbed it, letting him guide her through the next shifting platform, both of them moving in a tense, dangerous rhythm that felt almost like a conversation without words.

The platform jerked beneath them, spinning faster as they reached the next set of blocks. Knuckles clenched, heart hammering. She counted each movement, every "woosh" of the blocks like a drumbeat. Step. Step. Step. Jump. Step. Step.

Jax moved ahead with that infuriating ease, pivoting over the swinging pendulums like it was a stroll in the park. He glanced back, smirk tugging at his lips. “See? You’re getting the hang of it. Not that I doubted you—much.”

Ragatha scowled, chest heaving, ignoring the rush of adrenaline curling in her stomach. Rhythm. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

The blocks shifted suddenly beneath her, faster this time. Panic clawed at her chest, and she faltered, foot slipping off the edge. Instinctively, Jax lunged, catching her with a strong, steady arm, yanking her close against the platform. She stumbled, barely managing to keep her balance.

“Focus!” He snapped, voice low but urgent, sharp enough to cut through the ringing in her ears. “Step. Rhythm. Just like before. You’re fine.”

They were on another metal platform. She looked up. "How much higher do you think we have to go?" 

Jax’s eyes flicked upward, scanning the twisting stairs and swinging gears that led who knew how many floors above them. The metal groaned under the weight of the moving steps, the pendulums swinging in cruel arcs. "I don't even know how high we've climbed." His eye's scanned more of what he could see. "I don't see any doors or anything."

Ragatha followed his gaze, clutching her arms around herself as if that could steady the dizzying churn of gears above and below. “It feels endless,” she muttered, her voice tight. The tower creaked again, like some great beast exhaling. “Like we’re walking in circles… but up.”

Jax tilted his head, studying the overlapping staircases. His grin thinned, not quite vanishing. “Oh, it’s not endless. Towers like this always have a top. The trick is whether we get there before the tower decides we’re chew toys.”

Ragatha shot him a look, unimpressed. “You make it sound so reassuring.”

“That was me being reassuring,” he said with mock offense, then glanced up again, sharper this time. “No doors. No ladders. No obvious exits.” He tapped a claw lightly against the railing, mind working. “Which means the Codex is part of this place. Probably up there, hiding in the middle of all those gears.”

Ragatha frowned, scanning the shifting platforms. “So we climb… and hope we don’t get crushed along the way.”

“Exactly.” Jax’s grin returned in full, the tension in his jaw smoothed over by his usual mischief. “And between you and me? I think you’re finally starting to get the hang of not falling to your doom. It’s almost cute.”

She glared at him, but her knuckles whitened as the stairwell above them twisted again, opening a precarious path. “…You first.”

“Gladly.” He hopped onto the next rotating stair with infuriating ease, balancing against the swing of the pendulum above. Then he looked back over his shoulder, grin sharp. “Try to keep up, Rags."

Up. Up. Up. They had no idea how long it had been. It felt like the tower itself just kept going up. 

The stair twisted and locked into place, depositing them onto a broad, circular platform. In the center stood a massive mechanical dial etched with roman numerals, its face split into concentric rings. Each ring rotated independently, grinding with a deep metallic groan.

Around the dial’s edge, four locked bridges extended outward—leading in different directions—but all were retracted. No wonder he couldn't see them from below, they were hidden among the rest of the gears. Although that pissed him off for some reason.

"Finally." He muttered. "Something different."

Ragatha stepped cautiously toward the mechanism. “Oh no… don’t tell me this is…”

Jax’s grin widened as he crouched down, studying the dial. “A puzzle. Beautiful. Finally something worth my time.”

Etched across the outer rim was an inscription, faint but legible: “Align the Hours to unlock the Path. Misstep, and Time devours all.”

As if to punctuate the warning, the entire platform shuddered. The outermost ring spun faster, clicking into a new position. Below, gears clashed with a grinding snarl.

Ragatha’s voice pitched with panic. “W-what happens if we get it wrong?”

Jax tilted his head, smirking. “Best case? We reset. Worst case? We fall into a pit of spinning gears. Either way, you’ll finally get that ‘cinematic fall’ I mentioned.” But even he was spooked at the idea of falling all the way down just to climb up this horrible tower again.

“Jax!”

He chuckled, then tapped a claw against one of the numerals. “Relax. It’s just a clock. Match the numbers. Time is patterns. We watch, we move, we win.”

The dial groaned as its rings shifted again, the sound rattling through the platform. Jax crouched low, studying the carved numerals like they were prey to be picked apart. His grin was tight, focused. “See? It’s obvious. You line them up from one to twelve, outer ring to inner. Classic clockwork gimmick.”

Ragatha tilted her head, brow furrowing. “No… that doesn’t fit. Look—” She pointed toward the faint inscription curling around the base: ‘Align the Hours to unlock the Path.’ “It’s not just numbers. The pattern’s wrong. If it was one to twelve, they’d already be aligned.”

Jax’s smirk flickered. “Or maybe that’s part of the trick. Misdirection. Cain want you to think it’s wrong.”

Ragatha crossed her arms, tapping her heel nervously against the metal floor. “No. Look closer. The inner ring’s shifted backwards—like it’s counting down.” Her finger hovered over the numerals, tracing the reversed pattern. “It’s running opposite. If you try to match them forward, it’ll never line up.”

Jax’s ears twitched, betraying a crack in his confidence. He covered it with a laugh. “Oh sure, so now you’re a clockmaker? Next you’ll tell me you invented time.” He aligned the numbers, one to twelve. Grin sharp. There's no way she's right.

“Jax, I’m serious.” Ragatha’s voice sharpened, cutting through his deflections. “If you keep trying it your way, we’ll—”

The platform shuddered violently as one of the outer bridges twitched, then snapped back into place with a resounding clang. Below, the gears snarled louder, spinning too fast.

Ragatha’s grip on her arms tightened. “We don’t get unlimited chances.”

For a long beat, Jax didn’t answer. His grin had gone flat, his eyes flicking between her and the dial. Ugh are you serious? Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, he stood. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But if this thing explodes, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” she said, stepping toward the rings with renewed confidence.

Together, they shifted the concentric layers. Ragatha guided the sequence—backward, not forward—and Jax begrudgingly followed her instructions, hands steady despite his annoyance.

At last, the numerals clicked into alignment. The grinding of gears softened into a harmonious hum, and all four of the bridges extended outward, locking into place with a satisfying clang.

Ragatha let out the breath she’d been holding. “See? Backwards. I told you.”

Jax flashed a crooked grin, masking his irritation. “Lucky guess.”

Her glare could have cut metal. “You can’t even admit I was right, can you?”

“Not when you enjoy it this much,” he shot back, already stepping onto one of the extended bridge.

“Wait—we don’t know which bridge to follow.” Ragatha pressed, clutching her arms. Her eyes darted back to the dial, as if the carved numerals might whisper the answer if she stared hard enough.

Jax barely slowed, already sauntering onto the nearest bridge with his usual infuriating ease. “We have to check all of them.” He shrugged, hands tucked behind his head. “Trial and error. Worst case, we get squashed. Best case, I’m right first try.”

“Trial and—?!” Ragatha’s voice pitched up, sharp with disbelief. “That’s not a plan, Jax, that’s—”

“—fun?” he supplied, smirking over his shoulder.

She stomped after him, heels clanking on the metal. “Reckless. It’s reckless.”

“Relax, doll,” Jax said breezily, though his eyes flicked to the shifting gears beneath the bridge, tracking their tempo. “These things always give themselves away. You just have to…” He tapped a claw against the railing, listening to the faint reverberation. “Feel the rhythm.”

Ragatha rolled her eyes, but her gaze flicked back to the dial again. Something about the numerals nagged at her—the way the markings didn’t just line up, but pointed toward one specific quadrant.

Her stomach dropped. “Jax, wait!”

The bridge groaned, shuddering under him, bolts snapping loose as it tilted downward. He stopped for a moment. A pang of fear hitting him. He realized he has no time, so he turned quickly back towards the platform. He sprinted, metal clanging beneath his feet. He lunged at the last second as the bridge dropped form under him, claws scraping against the main platform’s edge.

He dangled there, arms trembling with the sudden weight. His grin was gone, replaced with quick, shallow breaths. He looked down at the gears underneath him. 

Ragatha froze, heart lurching into her throat. For a split second, she debated—watch him fall, or…

She dropped to her knees, grabbing his wrist. “Jax!”

He coughed out a laugh, even as his grip slipped. “What’d I tell you…? Cinematic fall…”

“Shut up and climb!” she snapped, digging her heels into the metal and hauling back with all her strength.

With a grunt and a last push from his legs, Jax scrambled up beside her, collapsing onto the platform. He lay flat for a moment, chest heaving.

“I’m fine,” he muttered—more to himself than her. But he didn’t move right away. He stayed sprawled there, letting the metal’s cool bite sink into his back.

Ragatha knelt a few feet away, her voice low but firm. “Jax, you can’t do this alone. No matter how much you want to.”

For a second, his grin wavered. His eyes slid down, unfocused, the memory of the collapsing bridge flashing hot in his chest. The pang was sharper than he expected—what could’ve happened if he hadn’t made that jump.

He hated that she saw it. He hated that she was right. He hated that he was stuck with her.

So he forced a laugh, closing his eyes against the ceiling of shifting gears. “You’re cute when you try to lecture me. All serious, like you actually think I’ll listen.”

Her frown deepened, but her shoulders sagged just slightly, the edge of concern refusing to leave her expression.

Jax cracked an eye open, catching the look. Another pang, sharper this time. He rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up like he hadn’t just nearly fallen to his death.

“Don’t worry about me, doll. I bounce.”

But as he straightened, he deliberately didn’t meet her eyes. He dusted his hands off, tilting his head toward the bridges. “So—” his grin returned, thin but present, “which way, time master?”

Ragatha exhaled through her nose, her lips pressing tight as she glanced back at the dial. The numerals weren’t random—they were ticking in rhythm with the gears overhead. Each bridge lit faintly as the hands turned, but only one bridge aligned perfectly on the final tick.

She pointed. “That one. Leftmost.”

Jax raised a brow. “Really? You’re just gonna… guess?”

“It’s not a guess,” she snapped, straighter now, conviction creeping into her tone. “Look—every time the dial strikes, that bridge lines up. The others fall out of sync. It’s obvious if you pay attention.”

He clicked his tongue, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Obvious, huh? Guess that’s why I didn’t see it.” His voice was flat, carefully held back, like he was swallowing down all the things he wanted to say. Embarrassment prickled at his chest—he hadn’t seen what she did, too busy trying to bulldoze through the stupid adventure.

Ragatha lifted her hands, shaking them quickly. “No, it’s okay—I’m just glad you didn’t fall and leave me here alone.”

She’s lying. He could hear it in her tone, the way her words landed too soft, too rehearsed.

“Right…” he grumbled, his voice curling tight in his throat. He flicked his hand toward the bridge. “Anyway—after you.”

She hesitated but stepped forward, moving carefully onto the leftmost bridge. Jax followed, eyes narrowed, every fiber of him hoping it would crumble beneath her just so he could say I told you so.

But it didn’t.

The gears meshed in perfect synchrony, the bridge holding steady as they crossed. Ragatha’s careful steps carried her across without so much as a shudder beneath her feet. Jax’s claws clicked against the metal as he followed, his irritation mounting with every solid step.

The bridge didn't budge.

Which pissed Jax off even more.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, masking his scowl with another crooked grin. “Well, look at that. Guess you’re not completely useless.” But his stomach still burned. He hated being wrong.

The bridge carried them to a tall, arched door of dark iron, its surface etched with faint clockwork patterns. Ragatha pressed her palms against it and pushed.

With a grinding groan, the door swung inward.

Beyond was silence.

The air was cooler, stiller. Instead of twisting gears and swinging pendulums, they stepped into a long hallway of stone. Smooth slabs lined the walls, and tall windows stretched at even intervals, spilling soft natural light across the floor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the glow.

Ragatha slowed, heels clicking against the stone, her voice dropping to a whisper. “This doesn’t… fit. It feels too normal.”

Jax tilted his head, eyes sweeping the windows, the corners of the hall, searching for the trick. “Yeah. Which means it’s not.” His tone was lighter than hers, but his smirk didn’t reach his eyes.

The contrast gnawed at him—the sudden quiet after the chaos. No gears grinding. No ticking rhythm. Just their footsteps echoing in the hollow stretch of the hall.

And that silence was worse.

Their footsteps echoed softly against the stone, swallowed quickly by the length of the hall. The natural light through the tall windows washed everything pale, almost peaceful, but the silence pressed in thick around them.

For a while, neither spoke.

Finally, Ragatha’s voice broke through, soft but sharp with intent. “Why do you do that?”

Jax slid his hands into his pockets, not looking at her. “Do what?”

“You act like this is all just a game. Like it doesn’t matter if you fall, or if you drag the rest of us down with you.” Her eyes stayed on the shifting dust in the beams of light. “It’s exhausting, Jax.”

A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. “Newsflash, doll—we’re trapped in a circus funhouse with no way out. If I don’t laugh at it, I’ll go insane. You think I’m bad now? Try me without the jokes.” 

Why do none of them get it? He felt like the only one with common sense- and besides Pomni, he was so done with being psychoanalyzed by everyone. 

She frowned, slowing her steps. “So that’s it? You hide behind the jokes so no one notices what’s actually going on with you?”

He finally glanced at her, smirk tugging at his lips, but it looked thinner than usual. “Cute theory. You sound like a therapist.” He chuckled. 

“You’re deflecting,” she muttered.

“And you’re prying.” His voice flat, pissed.

They walked in silence again for a few beats, the air between them heavy.

Then Ragatha said, almost reluctantly, “I don’t… hate you, Jax. I just wish you’d stop making everything harder. You’re smarter than you let on, and if you actually tried—”

He cut her off with a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “If I tried, Ragatha, I’d end up just like you—burned out, worried sick, playing by the rules of a rigged game. No thanks.”

Her lips pressed tight. “At least I care enough to try.”

The words hung there.

Jax didn’t fire back right away. He just kept walking, gaze drifting to the light spilling in through the windows, hiding the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Get me out of here. 

"You don't know shit about me Ragatha." His voice cold. "Stop pretending you do."

"Jax all you've done since you got here is push everyone away. You have hurt all of us. Your cruel for no reason- "

He stopped dead, turning on her. His grin was gone. “Oh, and you’re so perfect.” The words dripped with venom, his mockery sharpened to a knife’s edge.

Her jaw tightened. “I never said I was perfect.”

“You didn’t have to.” His eyes burned, unblinking. “You parade around like some little saint, patching us up, smiling through it all—like that makes you better. But guess what? You’re just as stuck here as the rest of us. Your kindness doesn’t fix anything. It’s worthless.”

The air between them went still, colder than the stone around them. Ragatha’s breath trembled, but she didn’t look away.

“You think cruelty fixes anything?” she shot back, her voice lower, steadier than he expected. “At least I’m trying to make this bearable. You’d rather burn it all down just so no one can see you scared.”

For a heartbeat, his chest tightened. Too sharp. Too close. His claws flexed at his sides, and he forced a smirk back onto his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Bearable?" His laugh was sharp. "Oh- okay- So telling Pomni that I'm evil is 'making it bearable'. Turning everyone against me is making this place bearable to you?"

Her breath caught, words stalling on her tongue.

Jax stepped closer, eyes glinting with something raw beneath the mockery. “Yeah, I heard. Don’t look so surprised. You think whispers don’t get around in here? You tell the newbie to stay away from me, and then you stand there acting like you’re the moral compass of this dump.”

Ragatha’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “I was protecting her. You twist people, Jax. You push until they break—”

“And you decide who needs saving?” he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. “You put me in a box, tied it up with a neat little bow that says monster, and now I don’t get a chance to be anything else.”

Ragatha flinched, but she didn’t back down. Her voice wavered, but it didn’t break. “What else am I supposed to think when you make a game out of hurting people?”

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the light from the windows stretching between them like a dividing line.

Jax’s smirk faltered, just slightly, but he forced it back up, teeth bared in something closer to a snarl. “Exactly. You’ve already decided who I am. So don’t pretend you’re different from me, doll—you’re just neater about it.”

Ragatha’s words tangled in her throat, the name she didn’t want to say choking her before it could escape.

The air froze between them.

"You put yourself in that box! With the way you tortured Gangle- The way you mock us. You turn our pain into your enjoyment. You can't expect us all to just sit and stay silent well you do the same thing to Pomni that you did to -" But she stuttered." Ragatha’s heart thudded painfully, her mouth opening but no sound coming out. She hadn’t meant to bring it up—not like this. Not him.

Jax’s laugh rang sharp in the empty hallway. He straightened, head tilting, grin wide but eyes dark. “To who? Ribbit?” His tone mocked, dragging the name out like a joke. Then, softer, lower, dripping with venom: “To Kaufmo?”

Jax stepped closer, grin still plastered on but his claws flexing at his sides. “Go on. Say it."

She took a step back. "Say what?" 

"Don't act dumb." His grin thinned. Voice sharp. "You blame me for their abstractions. I know you do. So go on, say that I'm evil."

She stared at him, mouth hanging open. "I don't think- "

"Yes, you do. Don't lie to me." He took another step closer, cornering her against the wall as she crumbled under his gaze. 

Her back hit the cold stone wall. The light from the tall windows cut across Jax’s face, half in shadow, half in cruel brightness.

His grin stayed in place, but it was stretched too thin, trembling at the edges. “Say it, Ragatha. Say what you’ve been dying to say since Kaufmo went under. Since Ribbit disappeared. That you think I pushed them there.”

Her throat tightened. “Jax, I—”

“You think it’s funny, don’t you?” His voice cracked, sharp and bitter. “The cruel guy gets what’s coming. He laughs and he mocks until—poof—abstract mess on the floor. That’s the ending you’re waiting for, isn’t it?”

She shook her head, eyes wet. “No. No, I don’t want that—”

“Then what do you want?” he snapped, claws scraping faintly against the wall beside her. “For me to change? For me to play nice? You think I can just be what you want me to be? Newsflash, doll, this is who I am.” 

Her chest heaved, but she didn’t look away this time. Her voice trembled, but it cut through his rage like a thin blade. “No, Jax. This is who you’re pretending to be.”

She’s just saying that to get out of this. He told himself that, but it didn’t stick. Pomni’s face flickered through his mind—wide-eyed, nervous, trusting in a way that twisted in his chest. How’s she going to react when she hears about this?

For a heartbeat, his mask cracked—just long enough for Ragatha to see something jagged beneath, something scared. But then the grin snapped back into place, too quick, too sharp. He stepped back with a hollow laugh, retreating into performance. “Cute. Real cute. You almost sound like you believe that.”

His hands trembled as he shoved them deep into his pockets, nails digging into his palms to hide the shake. Without another glance, he strode ahead, his footsteps echoing hard against the stone.

Ragatha stayed pressed to the wall, breath shallow, her pulse pounding in her ears. She hadn’t meant for her words to land like that. She hadn’t expected to see him slip. And yet, the image of his eyes—raw, flickering, unguarded—stuck in her head, leaving her shaking even as she pushed herself off the wall to follow.

The rest of the walk down the hall was painfully quiet. Jax stayed several steps ahead, his shoulders rigid, every stride sharp with contained anger. His claws flexed and unflexed in his pockets, nails biting into his palms as if he could tear the memory of her words out of his head.

Ragatha trailed behind, her heels clicking softly against the stone. She wanted to say something—anything—but every word that formed dissolved before it reached her tongue. The look on his face when his mask cracked replayed in her mind, raw and unguarded. She wasn’t sure if she’d pushed too far… or if she’d finally seen the truth.

Light streamed through the tall windows in thin, fractured lines, cutting the hallway into pieces of shadow and brightness. The rhythm of their footsteps filled the emptiness, loud and uneven—Jax’s quick and restless, Ragatha’s slower, hesitant.

Neither of them spoke. The only sound was the grinding of distant gears somewhere deeper in the tower, faint but constant, like a heartbeat waiting for them at the end of the hall.

And then—another door appeared. Dark wood, carved with intricate patterns of cogs and clock hands, waiting.

He pushed it open.

In the center of the room was a massive stone pedestal, wide and circular, with a puzzle etched into its surface—an intricate labyrinth of sliding tiles, each carved with strange runes and clock faces. At the edges of the room, tall hourglasses stood in neat rows, sand trickling downward, their steady hiss filling the air like a warning.

The walls were smooth stone, windowless now, closing them in. Above, a single shaft of light from some unseen source illuminated only the pedestal, leaving the corners in shadow.

Jax stepped inside first, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. “Cute. Another test.” He dragged a claw along one of the tiles, the scrape echoing. “Wonder what happens if we run out of sand.”

Ragatha followed more slowly, her stomach tight. The silence between them clung like a second skin, thicker than the air in the room. Her gaze flicked to the hourglasses, then back to him. “Then… we don’t run out.”

For a moment, neither moved toward the puzzle, the weight of their fight still hanging over them. Then Jax forced a smirk, though his voice came out rougher than he meant: “Guess it’s teamwork time again, doll.” His mask sliding perfectly into place. 

She nodded, hands fidgeting in front of her. Staying quiet. The silence between them pressed heavier than the shifting sand.

Jax sauntered up to the pedestal, leaning over the etched labyrinth like it was nothing more than a toy. He traced one claw across the nearest tile, pushing it an inch. The grind of stone on stone made the sand in the hourglasses hiss louder, as if the room itself was listening.

Ragatha stepped closer, eyes scanning the pattern. “It’s… a sequence,” she murmured more to herself than him. “The runes line up with the clock hands."

“Okay.” He sighed, the sound edged with irritation. “What do we have to do then?” The words felt sour in his mouth. He hated asking her—hated needing her—but she seemed to have a knack for this, and the rushing sand wasn’t leaving him many options.

She leaned in, pointing to the tiles. “See? If you move this one first, it aligns with the hour marker. Then this one follows, clockwise. It’s a chain reaction.”

Jax clicked his tongue, pretending not to be impressed. “So we play clockmaker. Great.” He slid the first tile where she indicated. The stone groaned, the runes glowing faintly as the hourglass slowed its frantic spill back to a steady drip.

As the second tile slid into place, the grinding in the walls deepened. Across the chamber, a massive stone clockface began to shift, its gears clicking and grinding as though waking from centuries of stillness. The wall itself moved, segments sliding like puzzle pieces, revealing a glimpse of something golden-glinting behind the mechanism—a book sealed in a cage of stone teeth.

Ragatha’s eyes widened. “The Codex… it’s behind the clock.”

Jax let out a low whistle, tilting his head. “Of course it is. Nothing’s ever just sitting on a shelf around here, huh?”

The wall ticked once, gears locking back into place. The cage slammed shut over the book again.

Her pulse jumped. “It’s timed. We have to match the sequence with the clock itself—otherwise it resets.”

Jax groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “So basically, I move these blocks while you keep track of a giant, angry grandfather clock trying to eat our homework?”

“It won’t work unless we’re in sync,” she said, sharper than she meant. “I can’t move the tiles from here. And you can’t read the pattern fast enough.”

Their eyes locked—hers steady, his narrowed. He hated that she was right.

Finally, Jax cracked a grin, though it was tight, uneasy. “Fine. You call the shots, I’ll move the pieces. But if we screw this up and the ceiling caves in, I’m blaming you.”

Ragatha rolled her eyes but moved to stand by the clock, her hands hovering over the glowing runes like a conductor about to lead an orchestra.

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded. 

Together they finished the sequence. Jax pushing the all the blocks Ragatha pointed at, matching the runes on the pedestal. They moved quickly. 

The last block slid into place with a sharp click, and the wall shuddered. Slowly, a section of stone slid aside, revealing the Codex, golden light spilling into the dim chamber. 

Then, almost as if in response, a door materialized beside it. Smooth, dark wood framed with intricate gears and glowing runes, it hummed faintly with energy. Then, with an absurdly loud POP, confetti burst from a hidden panel beside it, fluttering in a chaotic shower of reds, blues, and golds. The sound echoed off the stone walls, startling them both.

Neither of them moved toward it immediately. Ragatha’s hands trembled slightly, the tension from the hallway still lingering, while Jax’s smirk was faint, his chest still tight from their fight.

He walked over, flipping the Codex open. Nestled within its pages was the Key they’d been searching for, gleaming with a soft, golden light. He held it up as Ragatha approached.

“We did it!” she exclaimed, a rare spark of excitement in her voice.

Jax shot her a sharp glare, and she immediately shivered under the weight of it. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned back to the Key, letting a small smirk creep onto his face. “Go team,” he muttered, the words heavy with irony, though a faint echo of pride lingered beneath the sarcasm.

Ragatha’s lips twitched, as if debating whether to scold him or laugh. She settled for a quiet, “Right…” and allowed herself a fleeting smile. The tension between them hadn’t vanished, but for a brief moment, the victory was shared.

Jax slid the Key into the lock, twisting it with a satisfying click. The door groaned, then swung open, spilling a cascade of golden light across the floor. Together, he and Ragatha stepped through—and the shifting gears and pendulums vanished in an instant.

They were back in the Library of Living Stories. The familiar chaos greeted them: floating books tumbling, pages flapping wildly, and Cain hovering nearby with Bubble bouncing excitedly beside him.

“Welcome back!” Cain grinned, clapping his hands. "Alright gang! That's our last team!"

The others were gathered in a circle on the floor, each catching their breath in their own way. Pomni’s eyes darted from floating book to floating book, still half-expecting the cave's illusions to follow her here. Gangle fiddled nervously with a notebook, scribbling patterns she'd noticed during the adventure. Zooble was quieter than usual, leaning against a stack of hovering tomes, eyes distant.

Ragatha quickly rushed over to the group, sitting down on floor next to Gangle. She gave her a gentle smile, and Ragatha smiled back. 

Jax slowly sauntered over. Annoyed that they were the last group back.

"Now that we have all three Key's back in the library, you all must find the door way out."

Zooble groaned. "What? Why? Me and Pomni just risked our lives in a cave of horrors you designed." She pointed up at Cain accusingly. "We already beat your test! Why should we have to do it again?" 

So Pomni and Zooble got some quality time alone, huh? A pang of jealousy strung up inside his chest.

Jax’s stomach twisted. Quality time? That’s what it looked like—Zooble and Pomni, working together, sharing laughs that he wasn’t part of. He shoved the thought down, telling himself it was silly, that it wasn’t like that… but the pang of jealousy refused to fade.

God, why do I even care. Pomni gave him a smile, and he grinned back. 

But the grin felt a little forced, like it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Inside, the coil of jealousy twisted tighter. Why do I feel so… left out? he thought, kicking at a stray page on the floor. It’s just teamwork. That’s all it is.

"It's not a hard test- I promise." He rushed. "You just have to escape the library by finding the exit. Insert all three keys into there correct locks to open it."

Zooble stood up and stretched. "Fine. Come on guys. I wanna have a nap."

They began to walk down the hallway as a group. Jax stayed slightly behind them, holding his arms behind his head. 

The hallway stretched endlessly, lined with shelves that seemed to shift when no one was looking. Books whispered to each other, pages rustling in patterns too quick to follow. Pomni kept glancing up at the floating lanterns, their soft glow flickering like eyes.

Jax fell back a few steps, hands shoved into his pockets. Why do I feel like I’m… out of place? he wondered, watching Zooble and Pomni share a quiet laugh as they walked ahead. The pang of jealousy he’d tried to ignore tightened again.

Pomni stepped beside him. "So you were with Ragatha?" She nudged him. 

He laughed. "More like She was stuck with me." Ragatha glanced over at them, her face scrunching for the millionth times in concern for Pomni's safety. Worry about yourself. He wanted to say, but he pushed it down.

"Me and Zooble get stuck together in a cave." Pomni laughed lightly. Not noticing his overthinking. "There was this huge spider that had the key on a it's necklace. We had to cross a bunch of bridges that were made out of it's string." She shivered, remembering how the strands of silk stretched across the chasm, glistening and sticky, threatening to snap under their weight. “I swear,” Pomni continued, “I thought we were done for at least three times.”

His hands clenching at his sides. God, of course Zooble got to be with her. he thought, the pang of jealousy sharpening. And I… I wasn’t. I was with the princess of panic over there. He glared at her back through his grin.

He forced a laugh, but it came out too short. “Sounds… thrilling,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. 

Pomni didn’t notice the edge in his voice. “It was terrifying, but… kind of fun. You know?” She gave him a small, encouraging smile, one that made him want to say I understand—but he swallowed the words.

Jax scanned the library’s shifting walls. Just focus. Don’t let them see how… useless I feel. He tried to tell himself it was only concern for Pomni, but a stubborn part of him couldn’t stop replaying a fake scene between her and Zooble in his head, imagining what he wasn’t part of.

Imagining what they must've said to her. Anger flared up at that possibility.  Ugh what is with me today. Stop caring so much. Stop over thinking.

"Ugh- Cain must've made the adventure's extra spooky. My and Rags had to climb up this tower full of death traps. There's no way she would've made it without me though." He grinned. "I did most of the work." He new he didn't- Ragatha completed the the first puzzle entirely on her own, and they worked together to complete the second. He kept an eye on Ragatha, genuinely wanting her to argue with him. 

If she makes a scene, I can make her look bad. None of them will believe her about what had happened - about what he said to her- and we can go back to normal. 

But she stayed silent next to Gangle. Fidgeting with her hands.

Pomni grinned at him. His heart fluttered slightly. "Oh really?" Her voice teasing him. "I don't know if I believe that." She chuckled. 

He rolled his eye's. "You don't have to. I know my truth." 

The group turned a corner. The door sitting in front of them. Three key ports sat in a row on the door. 

Jax held up his key, walking forward and testing it out. It locked into place. "That's one." He turned back to the others, a grin wide on his face. "Your turn Zoobs."

Zooble rolled their eye's "Don't call me that." They stepped forward and unlocked it. Kinger did the same. 

Jax pushed on the door- the circus back on the other side. 

"Well this was redundant." Jax joked. Stepping through the frame. "Could've just brought us back here."

The team filed through the door, exhausted. Zooble dragged her feet dramatically, muttering under her breath. Kinger stumbled in last, clutching the golden key like it might vanish if he let go. Pomni stretched her arms overhead, relief softening her features as she took in the familiar sight of the circus grounds.

Bubble zipped circles around them all, squeaking with delight. Cain clapped his hands together, the sound echoing unnaturally loud. “Congratulations, my little adventurers! Three keys, three stories, and one very tidy ending. Aren’t you proud of yourselves?”

“Proud? I’m tired,” Zooble groaned, plopping down onto the ground.

“Yeah, what she said,” Jax added with a smirk, though his voice carried more weariness than bite. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing Pomni from the corner of his vision. She looks… happy. Even after all that. His chest tightened. He quickly looked away.

Cain floated higher, beaming. “Rest, then. But don’t get too comfortable. After all…” His grin widened. “There are always more stories waiting.”

Chapter Text

Jax sat alone on his bed.

His thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.

Spiraling him down into a void of unavoidable shame, doubt, anger—he couldn’t even tell which anymore. Every memory felt sharpened, every word he’d spoken replaying in his head like broken glass rattling in a jar.

He tugged at his blanket, restless fingers searching for something to ground him, but nothing worked.

He was supposed to be sleeping. The rest of them were - he was sure they were. None of the others had to deal with his thoughts.

It was the same day of Cains stupid clockwork tower adventure. He had been thrown him in with Ragatha...

 Ragatha. 

Of all of the people in this goddamn circus. It just had to be her. 

She was so ready to follow the rules.

She made being happy look so fucking easy. 

Her perfect smile. 

Her perfect act. 

She had everything. She was rich. She had a family.

She had paino lessons and voice classes growing up.

She was well liked. 

She probably was the popular type.

Everything he wasn't.

He wasn't normal. He wasn't okay. He felt too much. He knew that. Taking offense to every little thing was bound to his identity by now. Always detaching as fast as he attached. Always caring too much.

Then not at all. 

He consistently danced the line between the two. Falling hard. Hating them. Then hating himself for putting himself in that cycle.

Time after time after time.

Too clingy.

Too defensive.

Too much.

He had his pathetic dad who couldn't be there for half his life. 

A mother who blamed him for everything that went wrong in her life. 

His home life was loud. Cruel.

Too many mouths to feed. Not enough money. 

He had nothing. 

He could never keep friends.

He was too sharp. 

Too mean. Too reckless. 

Nobody ever liked him.

Nobody ever cared.

He wanted to be more.

Do more with his life.

He wanted to be special.

To be chosen. 

To be cared for.

He hadn't realized he was crying.

This fucking circus.

This fucking place was what had been waiting for him at the end of his short miserable life. 

His body started shaking.

The room felt too small.

The silence too loud. His own breathing came back to him, harsh, uneven, like he was being mocked by his own lungs. He wanted to laugh it off, like always.

But his mask felt shattered... 

No. 

Too relatable too Gangle.

Ugh.

Gangle. 

Her and Zooble sure were chummy now. Weren't they?

Not that he cared. He didn’t.

Why would he?

Gangle could hang off Zooble’s every word for all he cared. Let them laugh at their dumb inside jokes, whisper in corners like they were better than everyone else. He didn’t need to be part of that.

But still—
The thought itched.
Like a splinter under his skin he couldn’t dig out.

He pressed his palms against his eyes until colors burst behind his eyelids. Anything to blot it all out. Anything to stop the gnawing, stupid ache inside his chest that he refused to name.

None of it mattered anyway.

None of this was even fucking real.

That was the worst part. 

None of this mattered. 

This stupid fucking circus. And Cain's stupid fucking adventures. None of this existed.

"UGH!" He yelled, frustration pulling at every single part of his body.

“Stop it, Jax!” His own voice sounded foreign in the room — smaller than the feeling that pushed against his ribs. 

He squeezed his head. Silently screaming.

He laughed.

The sound hollow and too loud in the dark. “Right. Sure. Real mature.” He spat the words at the ceiling as if the plaster owed him an explanation.

The laugh dissolved into a sob before he could stop it, a quick animal sound that made his throat burn.

“I was protecting her. You twist people, Jax. You push until they break—”

Remembering Ragathas words hit him like a rock to the gut. 

"you make a game out of hurting people."

He shot up off from the bed. Beginning to pace across his room.

"Come on Jax! Stop it!" But he couldn't.

He swore that he had no control over his own thoughts. Memories springing up against his own wishes, even as he fought it. He squeezed his head.

Shut up. Shut up. Stop thinking. 

His own thoughts drowned by the spiral of hate and shame.

"This is who you’re pretending to be." Her words meant nothing to him. Why was he doing this to himself. 

He couldn't breath. 

"[#@*&]!!!" He yelled. Grabbing a lamp and tossing it at the wall.

It clipped through, landing on the floor. Still in one piece.

He couldn't be in here anymore. 

He walked to the his door. Quickly opening it and slamming it behind him. 

His eyes shot up.

Pomni's room was right there.

He growled, flexing his hands as he stared at her picture. 

I need help. He lowered his gaze. Would she help him?

“I don’t see you as broken.” Her words echoed from the other day. 

He took a step toward her door. But stopped himself.

She doesn't deserve this. His hands twitched. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He has already put so much pressure on her these past few days.

She wasn't his therapist. He couldn't expect her to just help him whenever he needed her. Besides, he was perfectly fine before she got here.

He handled his freakouts alone before. He could handle it now.

Before Pomni, his way of surviving was a private craft: a series of little rituals and clever lies. He learned how to fold panic into a joke, how to make anger look like performance so nobody asked questions.

He taught himself to breathe through the worst of it.

Those were his trophies in a twisted way: scars polished into survival. Admitting he needed someone would feel like admitting those trophies were cheap.

He imagines her patience snapping like a brittle string.

He imagines being the reason she looks tired, the reason she crumples into the same exhaustion he’s been carrying.

He loves the idea of her being a soft place to land, and he hates himself for even thinking he deserves it.

"You twist people, Jax." 

That line echoed like a verdict, but it wasn’t new.

It had been said a dozen different ways, in laughing tones and in tired ones, in the sharp clack of Cain’s patience and in Pomni’s softer bewilderment.

It wasn’t an accusation that could be wiped away by sarcasm or a clever retort; it lived in the faces of the people who’d been on the receiving end.

He could still see the tiny fissures — a smile that stopped a beat too soon, a hand that pulled away, an offer of help that became a question about what they’d done wrong.

They hadn’t merely suspected it; they’d watched it happen. They had the receipts: the late apologies, the excuses, the ways he’d folded himself into other people’s lives until the seams tore.

But he could change the present. 

I don't have to keep dragging her into this. I don't need to drag her down with me. All I do is hurt people. His ears twitched.

He shook his head hard, as if the motion alone could fling the thoughts away.

Then he pivoted on his heel and stormed down the hallway, his strides long, purposeful, almost mechanical. 

He wasn’t wandering anymore—he was hunting. The door to the liminal pools. That was the destination.

The place where he could drown this noise, wash out the ache, shove it into the water and let it rot there.

His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides,, as if daring his body to betray him by slowing down. No detours. No excuses.

Just find the door, get out, and put space between himself and the temptation of leaning on someone who shouldn’t have to carry him.

Once he found it. He was quickly shutting it behind him.

The smooth white tiled wall stole the door away from him like it always had. Perfect. Now he could be alone.

He ran down the long hall until the first large pool filled his vision — the one that always announced itself first, too expansive to exist anywhere else.

He didn’t pause; he didn’t look. He skittered past it, the echo a metronome for a heart that wouldn’t slow.

Room after room blurred by: a shallow basin that reflected the ceiling like a clean sheet, a deep black bowl that swallowed the lantern light, a little kitten-shaped pool that gurgled quietly as if it knew a joke he didn’t.

He moved faster, as if speed could dislodge the memories lodged in his ribs. Every surface threw back a version of him that felt wrong — a grin too wide, a jaw set too hard, eyes rimmed with a tiredness that had no business being there.

The reflections weren’t mirrors so much as accusations; they tilted and smirked and rearranged themselves into faces he’d rather not meet.

He stopped.

The room he stopped in was small. The room itself was dim. A shallow pool sitting in the center. The water crashed around it, as if reflecting his inner thoughts. 

His reflection didn’t behave either. It lagged behind him, an echo with teeth missing and a laugh that sounded like his when he was pretending.

In the water, he looked like all the versions of himself that he hated at once: the showman, the breaker, the boy who pushed until someone snapped.

He wanted to tell the water to fix it. He wanted to tell the world to put him back together the right way.

Instead he made a sound that was half-breath, half-broken admission.

“I’m tired,” he forced back a sob, and the pool gave him back the same word, softer, as if it didn’t have the right to be harsh.

"All of this pretending," He said out loud, as if talking to his own reflection. "It hasn't gotten me anything."

His word were sharp.

The pool stabilized. Showing him his real reflection. He looked so exhausted. All this pain, guilt and anger he held to himself. What was even the point? 

What was that thing Pomni said about coping mechanisms? 

"I can be better." He defended himself. But he wasn't convincing. "I can change." 

But what was the point? The damage had been done. He didn't just hurt himself with his games. He had hurt everyone. 

His breathing quickened. Panic rising like bile in his throat. Rage grinding against his thoughts. 

They all hate me. They hated me before everything and they'll hate me for everything anyways. So why bother. Why change. 

Why. 

He squeezed his head until the skin at his temples throbbed. Pressure, like someone kneading at the edges of his skull until the picture inside blurred.

Or he could just abstract. Sure. That's a great idea. As if he could just abstract at will. Like an impulsive request to the universe.

He imagined the map of the circus with a neat X where he used to be. They’d look and look and then sigh with relief when they couldn’t find him. Pomni would curl up for a night and then someone would hand her a mug and a joke and she’d go on. They always went on.

People always moved on.

It was what they did—survive each other’s chaos and call it resilience.

He'd bet real life money that they'd never find him in these pools. He'd be lost forever. They wouldn't have a clue where he went. Sure Pomni would be sad . . . But she'd get over it.

They would all convince her that Jax disappearing would be for the best. 

He pictured their faces at the party they’d throw once the rumor started: “He wandered off.” 

The more he pictured it, the less monstrous the vanishing felt. Clean. Final. Convenient.

Then Ragatha’s voice—nervous, sad —cut through the fantasy like a blade.

"I don't hate you Jax."

She actually sounded sad.

The loop in his mind supplied the counter: She’s lying to you. They all hate you. Your evil. 

Evil. 

He remembered what he had pushed Ragatha to say.

"Don't act dumb." His grin thinned. Voice sharp. "You blame me for their abstractions. I know you do. So go on, say that I'm evil." 

Fuck. Why would I do that. Why would I want her to say anything like that to me. I cornered her. I pushed her to say it. But she didn't.

She didn't say it.

Why. 

He looked back at the water. His reflection was still there. Clear and real. Like the room demanded him to see himself. 

Did he think he was Evil?

Was that why?

The word sat in his mouth like something he'd stolen and couldn't spit out.

Evil. It sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud—too big, too mythic for the messy, petty stuff he actually did.

Yet the image Ragatha had refused to conjure for him — the neat label he’d tried to force onto her — kept nudging at a quieter, meaner truth.

It wasn’t that he was some cartoon villain. 

It was the smaller, meaner, more mundane: the way he’d sharpened people’s edges until they bled, the way he’d turned private hurts into public theater.

Maybe “evil” was just a louder word for being a habit he couldn’t stop.

He remembered the way he’d pushed Ragatha, the angle of his shoulders when he’d baited her into naming him.

He had wanted proof, some ceremonial guilt that would validate the story he told himself about being unavoidable.

He’d wanted the world to say, “Yes, you are the thing you fear,” so he could stop pretending there was a choice.

The realization tasted like metal.

A laugh escaped him, short and humorless. “So what, Jax,” he muttered to the empty room, “are you evil or just… exhausted?”

The question was ridiculous and necessary at once. If he was evil, then nothing mattered.

If he was exhausted, maybe things could change.

"I wish Pomni was here." He sighed.

Was there a way to break this cycle of pain and hate?

Why did he shame himself in everything I do?

He stared at his reflection. 

But he wasn't staring back. That purple Rabbit facing him wasn't who he wanted to be anymore. 

He looked so stressed. 

"God I hate myself."

Something about that stupid sauce had crack him open..

Or was it Pomni's words?

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since he'd gone on any adventures. 

After he had left the pool rooms, he needed time. Space to be away from them. 

But if he was being real with himself.

He couldn't face them.

Not after what he did to Ragatha. Not after the way he tortured Gangle.

Not after the way he treated any of them.

He couldn't hold onto his mask, it slipped away through his fingers. 

Isolation was the best option. 

Not for him. Being alone didn't help him in the slightest actually, and he was very sure it actually made him worse. 

Nothing to distract from the thoughts.

No. He wasn't isolating for himself. He wanted to stay isolated. 

Pomni had tried to talk to him, she had tried to knock on his door. But he had stayed silent. 

I'm so tired of being alone.

He raised his fist, about to knock, but he hesitated again. Staring at her picture on the door. 

She looked so innocent. So kind. 

He didn't deserve her kindness or warmth. 

He sighed, dropping his fist. This is stupid.

I can talk to her later I .  .  .  guess. 

He turned, taking steps toward his room.

Behind him the door opened softly.

"Jax?" Pomni's voice was sleepy. She yawned. "Dude. It's the middle of the [#$*"+ g] night?"

Her laugh was sharp across the night. She looked sleepy and dazed. He stayed silent. Gulping. 

What was I thinking? Coming here for help.

She frowned, her eyes scanning him. "What the hell are you doing up? Where have you been these last few days?"

"Hey - uh." His voice sounded stupid. It took all of his effort to hold back his sarcasm. His mask fighting for control of him. "Hey." He said again, sharply this time..

I don't deserve her concern. I don't deserve her kindness.

"Hey?" She replied, confused. Her wide eyes searching his for an answer. "Jax? Come on, what's going on?" 

"I..." He stared back her. "I need . . ." 

But he didn't know how to say it. 

He lowered his eyes, clenching his entire body. He grit his teeth. 

"You can talk to me." 

But he couldn't.

As if the words didn't exist in his vocabulary. 

I need help.

I can't be alone right now. 

He debated on lying to her. Telling her everything was fine, and he had a question for her. That's why he was here. 

Not because of the crushing guilt and loneliness. 

He deserved to feel this way. After all the hurt he's pushed onto everyone onto his life.

He tried to fight a sob, but it escaped him anyway.

Panic bloomed inside of him.

He was in the hallway, what if the others heard him. His eyes flinched back and forth. Taking in everything around him. Searching for threats. 

He must look so pathetic. And she was just watching him.

I am pathetic.

"It's okay." Pomnis voice was nervous. She opened the door wider. "Do you wanna come in?" She stepped out of the way. Her face twisted into a concerned look.

He scrambled inside before she could change her mind. 

She shut the door, blushing when she turned to see him on her bed.

He pulled the blankets around him. Hugging them close to his body. 

Trying to make himself invisible.

I shouldn't have come here. She doesn't deserve this. I'm going to hurt her. To twist her, just like Ragatha said I would.

Light sobs escaped him, now that they were alone. He felt a little safer.

But that didn't mean he wanted her to see him like this. It was an impulsive decision to go to her

But he just couldn't be alone. 

She was the only one that cared.

That's not true. His mind spitting venom at him. They've already convinced her that your evil.

I'm not evil. 

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head.

His throat felt sticky. The words not wanting to break free. 

He wanted to apologize for existing. 

He wanted her to be angry at him for interrupting her. 

For annoying her. 

He wanted her to scream at him. 

He didn't know why.

But he looked up, and seeing her just stand there, watching him break down. It hurt. 

A lot. 

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked. 

Pomni sat beside him on the bed. Wrapping her arms around him and the blankets.

He was surprised at first. 

But seeing her look so scared for him made him pause.

He leaned into her. Dropping his head on her shoulder. Wrapping his own arms her tiny avatar model.

More sobs escaped him, against his will. Tears began to drip down his cheeks. Landing on her puffy sleeve. 

She hugged him tighter. 

"I'm- sor- sorry." He said again. 

"It's okay Jax." Her voice was light. 

They sat like that for a few minutes. 

His sobs grew louder as they spilled out against his will. This time he didn't try and choke them back down. 

His body shook, rattled by his stupid crying. 

This wasn't the plan. He just wanted to talk to her.

Just be with her. 

He wish she would say something mean. Something snappy. Berate him.

But she didn't. 

I don't deserve this. 

He shuddered from the thought. 

"I don't..." He leaned back, sniffling , rubbing his eyes.

They burned.

He looked back into her eyes. 

She smiled softly. A patient sadness filling her eyes. 

He looked down at his hands through his blurry vision. He was shaking from all the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

"I don't deserve this." His voice quiet and raspy.

"You do."

He flinched. Looking back up at. Their eyes meeting.

He grabbed his hand lightly. 

"You deserve kindness Jax. Everyone does." 

“Pomni, I—” He choked on the words, his throat closing around them like a trap. Whatever it was—thank you, help me, don’t leave—it stayed locked in his chest.

Pomni squeezed his hand.

He looks so small like this. So human. The sarcastic smirk is gone, the armor is gone, and what’s left is just… hurt.

I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing. But I know what it feels like to be crushed by loneliness. I know what it feels like to want to disappear. 

He's trusting me right now. With all of his heavy thoughts. She felt a little proud that she was here for him. He clearly needed someone.

"Jax?" Her voice was such a contrast to his frantic, tangled thoughts—calm where he was frantic, soft where he was sharp. "What's really going on?"

He shook his head again.

"I don't—" He choked, throat closing in on itself.

Pomni’s chest ached at the sight of him. He always has something clever to say. Always hides behind jokes. But right now…  he’s falling apart in front of me.

Like the words hurt to touch his tongue. She bit her lip, trying not to reach for him too fast. What happened to you, Jax? How long have you been carrying this alone?

"God, I’m pathetic," he rasped.

Before he could pull away from the words, Pomni’s arms were already around him again. She surprised herself with how quickly she moved. Her cheek pressed into his chest, warm and steady.

"No." She whispered against his fur. "You’re not."

He’s shaking, she thought. All that bravado, all those jokes… they were just holding this back.

He’s not pathetic. He’s just hurting. And I’m not going to let him face it alone.

Pomni didn’t flinch. Her arms stayed tight around him, her cheek still resting against his chest.

"’You’re just a person who’s suffering," she said softly. 

His throat clenched. "I’ve hurt people, Pomni."

Her eyes lifted to meet his, steady and unafraid. "So have I."

He blinked down at her in bewilderment, as if she’d just spoken in a language he couldn’t understand. Nobody ever met him like that before. No one had ever said: me too.

And still—she was hugging him. Arms locked around him like she meant to keep him from falling apart completely.

She chuckled, looking back at him. "I've lied. I've lost friends from disagreements. I've manipulated too. Lots of people do it, Jax." 

Heat crawled up his face. He turned away, ashamed.

"That’s nothing compared to what I’ve done."

"Maybe," she said gently. "But hurting people doesn’t erase the fact that you’re still… you. Still someone who can change. Someone who can be cared about."

His stomach twisted at her words, like they were too heavy, too impossible to hold.

This is way he came here. To not be alone. To be heard. 

So why did it feel so wrong?

Her kindness scraped against every ugly thought he had about himself. Because if she cared, then she was either lying… or he was wrong about who he was.

And both options terrified him.

He tightened his grip on the blanket, staring past her shoulder, as if the floorboards might offer him an escape.

"Listen," She pulled away, grabbing his shoulders and facing him directly. The eye contact felt sweet ... But it also make his chest hurt with guilt. More tears slipped down his cheeks. 

"You may have caused some bad things in the past. But so have I. So has everyone. And I know—I know it feels impossible. Like you’re stuck inside this box because your actions put you there."

God that stupid box talk. He thought bitterly.

She took a breath, picking up one of his hands, bringing to her chest. She held his hand in both of her hers. "But boxes can open, Jax. You don’t have to stay trapped in who you were. You can still decide who you are now."

Her voice wavered slightly, but she didn’t look away. "I tell myself that every day. Otherwise… I think I’d lose hope too."

"But Pomni— I—" He took a sharp breath, staring up at the ceiling as if it might give him courage. "It's not that simple. I can't just change myself."

It had been the same cycle over and over.

He’d care too much, get attached, then something would set him off—anger, suspicion, fear—and he’d hate them. Push them away. Break it before it could break him.

It was who he was by now. It was who he had always been.

"Before the circus I was…" He shook his head hard. "I haven’t told anyone here this. I’m so ashamed. Of who I am. There’s nothing good about me, Pomni."

She stayed silent, watching him, waiting. His hand still in hers. 

Every instinct telling him to pull it away. To flinch back. To tell her this was all a stupid prank.

Maybe she'd hate him but at least he didn't have tell her anything else. 

But this moment was to real for that.

And he didn't want to lose her.

"I’m sick." His voice cracked. "Even before this place—my mind was already broken." He swallowed, fingers twisting in the blanket. "I have… borderline. Borderline personality disorder. I—" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I ruin people. I ruin everything. That’s who I am."

The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating.

Pomni didn’t answer. For a long, terrifying second, she just looked at him. Silent. And the silence was louder than shouting—like she was deciding whether to recoil, to believe him, to leave him.

Jax’s chest tightened. He stared at the floor, wishing he could swallow the words back down, wishing he hadn’t given her something else to hate.

Finally, Pomni exhaled. "So what?"

His head snapped up, eyes wide.

She held his gaze, firm and steady. "You think that makes you unworthy of being cared about? Of having people in your life? Newsflash, Jax—every single person here is messed up in one way or another. You’re not the only one with baggage."

She reached out, touching his wrist lightly, grounding him. "Your diagnosis isn’t you. It’s not the whole story. You’re still… you. And you’re sitting here, wanting to connect. That’s what matters."

A sob escaped him.

That was not what he expected to hear. That was never the response before. No disgust. No distance. No warning to stay away. Just—so what?

It tore him to shreds. Like her words had ripped through every defense he’d built, leaving him raw and trembling.

His hands shook as he dragged them over his face, trying to hide, but the tears slipped out anyway. He hated it.

Hated how much it hurt to be seen like this.

Pomni’s expression softened. She shifted closer, her voice quieter now, gentler. "Hey… I didn’t mean it to hurt. I just… I don’t think what you’ve been through makes you unworthy."

She reached out, resting a tentative hand on his arm. "You don’t have to carry that alone anymore."

It hand a been a few days since Jax had been there and, too be honest . . . 

It was better without him. 

Ragatha thought to herself. Staring up at her ceiling in the middle of the night. 

Not that she hated him or anything. Hate was too strong a word for what she thought of Jax. 

She really did genuinely enjoyed him when he first arrived. He was a clever, bright, happy go lucky kid. With little respect for manners.  . . Sure. 

But. . . He was a good kid. 

But, he changed after Ribbit abstracted. 

It was was like Jax lost a piece of himself the very same day Ribbit was thrown into that void. Ragatha could tell that in they were fighting in those last few months. She had no idea what had really happened- neither of them talked about it. They never told anyone what was happening. 

But from what she saw-

Jax had hated his own best friend, that he bullied him into abstraction. 

She thought back to their last adventure together.

He genuinely helped her through a panic attack. He seemed gentler- softer. Had Pomni Said something to him? 

The Jax she knew wouldn't have helped her. For God's sake he threw he into a deep fryer just a few weeks ago. He was kind, then completely venomous. 

He did really seem to be trying to help her.

But then . ...

What the hell was that stuff about him wanting her to call him evil? Where had that come from? 

Did he really actually believe that he was evil? 

What the hell does that even mean? Why say that to her? Why demand her to call him evil? 

Oh my god . . . ! Am I overthinking this?

No, but, Ragatha look it's . . . Kinda sad . . . He was just a kid when he arrived here. 

How long had it been?

How does time even work in this place?

"huh. That's a good point actually." 

and now I'm talking too myself. 

Yay.

Great.

Girl your going nutso sitting in this room right now.

Get up!

She began to push herself off the bed to get up. But then she groaned, dropping back onto it with a soft thud.

No wait I can't it's the middle of the night.

It's so weird to walk around this place at night. 

She shivered, remembering what had happened the last time she tried exploring the circus at night. Never again. This place is so much worse at night. 

Ragatha sighed. Taking a deep breath. Calming her thoughts.

A thought popped into her head. 

Did Jax need help? 

Maybe they should. . . Attempt something?

She had seen what happened between in public with him and Ribbit. But what about in private?

He was a menace. That was no lie. But with how he's been isolating himself since their clockwork tower adventure, maybe he was actually guilty this time.

Maybe he had always felt too guilty to face them.  

He was just a kid still. 

Did Jax need help?

But with a question like this, the answer ran deeper into his roots. Because the question wasn't necessary how - 

It was more like . . . 

.

.

.

Would he even want help? Would he let them help him?

And who here would do it? 

He hated all of them after all. That was evident in the way he treated them.

"Huh." Her throat was dry. 

What a funny thought.