Chapter Text
There were places even Caine didn’t go.
Pomni had found one entirely by accident—somewhere between the “Gumdrop Jungle” and the corridor of sentient curtains, past a wall that had stopped being a wall and started being something else. It buzzed, ever so slightly, like an old CRT screen left on with no picture. She came here when things got loud.
Pomni sat on the edge of a floating platform in that glitchy, half-broken space, knees pulled tight to her chest. Her jester shoes dangled over the void, swaying with the occasional twitch of her foot. She wasn’t crying—she told herself she wasn’t crying—but her posture said otherwise.
The day had started normally enough. Normally in this place, meant a new ‘event’ designed to mentally scramble them all: a trivia game where wrong answers made your limbs inflate like balloons. Funny in theory. Horrifying in execution. Pomni had failed the first question—“How many teeth does the average adult human have?”—and had spent the next five minutes unable to walk without bouncing. Jax had, of course, been the trivia king. Every answer perfect. Every wrong move she made met with one of his signature crooked smirks and offhand jabs.
“Wow, Pomni. I didn’t know you were trying to literally become a clown balloon. Very on brand.”
She’d laughed along at first—nervous habit. But by the fourth round, it had started to sting. And then the sting sank in deep, down where her breathing got tight and the air in her chest felt heavy. That’s when she’d run. Now, she was hiding.
“I hate this place,” she muttered under her breath. The wall flickered in response. The world didn’t care.
Behind her, a soft sound. Not footsteps, exactly—more like the bounce of rubber soles and the casual trot of someone who never bothered to knock. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to.
“What, no dramatic scream this time?” came Jax’s voice.
Pomni stayed silent. Jax waited a beat, then dropped into a seated sprawl beside her. He didn’t sit properly—he never did. One leg outstretched, the other bent, arms behind him to prop himself up like he was sunbathing on a glitch.
“You have a talent for running off, you know that?” he said, kicking at the edge of the platform lazily. “Starting to think you like being chased.”
Pomni didn’t respond. Jax sighed in mock offense. “Wow. Not even a death glare? I’m slipping.”
“I don’t want to talk,” she muttered, voice dry and low.
“Good. I hate talking.” More silence.
It should have felt hostile. But it didn’t. It weirdly comfortable. The buzzing void shimmered around them. Pomni stared into it, eyes unfocused. Jax leaned back on his elbows, eyes on her now.
“You know, Gangle cried when her comedy mask broke again today,” he said suddenly. “Weird. She always cries, but this time? It felt… thinner. Like it wasn’t even about the mask anymore.”
Pomni stared at Jax’s shoulder as he spoke. Looking into his eyes wasn’t exactly second nature, they didn’t talk very consistently. He was also rude, sometimes. Still, he seemed to have more time for her than the others. Pomni didn’t know whether to be insulted by that or take it as a compliment. Maybe it was because he didn’t know her that well, that she was more likeable because her personality wasn’t as prevalent as the others.
She blinked at him, confused. “Why are you telling me that?”
“I dunno,” Jax shrugged. “Seemed relevant.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t care about Gangle.” At least, she assumed he didn’t. He was mean to her, and seemed to like to make her upset. Zooble was always there to defend her.
“Sure I do. She’s my second-favorite crier. Of course. Pomni raised an eyebrow. “You’re number one,” he added, with a wink.
She rolled her eyes and turned away—but her lips twitched, just barely. He caught it. “See? That’s all I need. Little reaction. Keeps me going.”
“You’re like a parasite,” she said. “Feeding on misery.”
“Correction, I’m more of an emotional connoisseur. Misery. Embarrassment. Denial. It’s a full-course meal in here.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re still sitting here. Interesting.”
“I was here first.”
“So?”
Pomni opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Instead, she closed it and looked back into the static. Her voice, when she spoke again, was quieter. “I hate that you’re right.”
Jax tilted his head, “About what?”
“That I’m still here.”
“…Huh.”
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t crack another joke. Instead, he sat up a little straighter. Almost serious, “You think about leaving?” he asked, the question too casual to be truly casual.
Pomni snorted. “Constantly.”
“I meant really leaving.”
She blinked. “What does that even mean?”
This was weird. She and Jax weren’t friends. Maybe the quiet haven made it easier to talk.
“Like…” Jax’s ears twitched slightly. “Not just escaping. But… turning it all off. Disappearing. One final exit.”
Pomni stiffened, “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted, voice barely a whisper. “But I’m afraid if I go too far into the void, I’ll just… stop existing. And maybe that’s worse than being stuck here.”
Jax was quiet for a moment, “You ever wonder if we already did stop existing? And this is just the afterglow?”
She stared at him, surprised, “That’s… dark. Even for you.”
“Yeah, well.” He peeled something off from the floor. A piece of glitch, is that what you call it? A blue thin piece of material scattered with ones and zeros. It refilled itself on the surface the second his hand left it. He scrunched it in his hand lightly and flipped it in the air, “Even I get existential.”
Pomni looked down at her gloved hands, “I don’t even remember what my hands looked like. Before.”
Jax caught the glitch, “Same.”
Silence again. But this time, not empty. It was the silence of people who weren’t quite alone anymore. After a while, Pomni spoke again, “Why did you come out here?”
Jax shrugged, “You left before I could make my best pun of the day. Kinda rude.” She didn’t smile. He tried again. “Also… maybe I was worried you’d throw yourself off the edge, and then I’d be stuck making Gangle cry for entertainment.”
“How long have you known about this place?”
“A while. I came here a lot before. Back when other people used to be here.”
Pomni doesn’t ask his to tell her more. She’s been told by Ragatha that other people were at the circus before, others that had abstracted. She can’t imagine what it’s like. She turned toward him now, fully. He expected her to snap, or scoff. Maybe yell. Instead, “Thank you.”
Jax looked at her like she’d spoken a foreign language, “What?”
“For coming out here. Even if you’re pretending it’s because you’re bored.”
His smug expression faltered. Just a flicker—but it was there. He looked away, “Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it. I’m not running a support group.”
Pomni smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t trust you with one anyway.”
“Good,” he smirked. “I charge terrible rates. They sat there for a long time after that. No more words. No more quips.
“I think I’m getting a headache, Pom.” Jax spoke after a while. He’s laying flat on his back. He doesn’t get a response, Pomni is asleep. It feels weird to stay here any longer, he thinks.