Chapter Text
The first few months following Ragatha’s arrival were.. Confusing. The bright digital landscape was something she had a difficult time getting used to, her new fabric body itching all over, the impossible physics gave her intense nausea. On top of that, the loneliness weighed heavily on her, seeing it was only her and one other member living in this realm. Time didn’t move the same way in the circus, so even with Kinger’s help, she could only gauge her progress in months; assuming her internal sense of time was still reliable. But one thing struck her as most unusual.
It was him.
To put it mildly, Caine was a mystery. Ragatha was unable to escape the anxiety of watchful eyes that graced the paintings, the pillars, and even the cutlery they used because he was a godlike being in charge of this entire place. Akin to a child that gained a new toy, the top-hat wearing pair of dentures showed up with grandiose and obvious joy every time they interacted. Kinger appeared invisible to Caine; she had a hard time recalling the ringleader speaking to the chess piece until it was absolutely necessary.
She had no choice but to start orbiting around Caine too, however.
It started small.
“Ragatha! My dear, my delightful addition to my world! How are you doing today?” As she struggled to untie a ribbon that had been entangled around her waist, Caine's voice echoed. She stumbled over nothing and now hung from the edge of a floating platform as the silk strand enveloped her like a gift. “You seem to be struggling.”
“I’m fine, Caine, uh, just have to watch where I’m going,” she said quickly, even as the ribbon tightened. “I’ve got it.”
Then with an almost amused tone, “You don’t.”
With a snap of his fingers, the ribbon suddenly released. Ragatha started to fall, but before she could hit the ground, Caine darted in and caught her in his arms. She blinked up at him, before muttering a soft, “...thanks.”
Caine leaned closer than necessary, his top teeth upturned. “You’re very welcome, you know you don’t have to pretend you don’t need help around here! Just call my name out and I’ll zip tight over like a fast racoon!”
To that Ragatha smiled politely, “Thank you, Caine...but I’m not pretending.”
“You are,” he said lightly, in a sing-song tone. “But that’s alright! Everybody does, at first.”
She didn’t like the implications, but was grateful for the host’s care for her.
-
They continued to collide with each other.
Late at night, Caine would appear, tossing around ideas, eagerly jumping in to share the countless “brilliant” concepts he wanted to bring to life. Ragatha would listen as he explained everything in his odd, theatrical manner.
But every so often, he’d go off track. And that should’ve been the first warning.
“You see,” he said one time, conjuring shapes that flickered in and out of reality, like a magic trick much to Ragatha’s quiet amusement, “With only you and Kinger here… I can’t help feeling like I’m not doing what I was meant to do.” Ragatha tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Caine looked at the shapes twisting mid-air.
“I was created to entertain, but without an audience, I may as well be locked away in storage,” he muttered, almost to himself. “…wouldn’t be the first time.”
Ragatha watched as his expression contorted darker, and decided to thread carefully. “…Well, I might not be much of an audience, but maybe you could make one? A few NPCs wandering around doesn’t sound so bad.”
Caine let out a sharp laugh. “Now, now, my dear. If I start forgetting who’s real and who’s an NPC… well,” his grin tightened, “things could go wrong very quickly.”
“You can try, at least.”
She sat cross-legged as Caine continued to manifest shapes that turned into a silhouette of potential npcs. The soft hum of the circus settled around them, easing them into a quiet sense of comfort.
Years went by, Caine began creating adventures for the newer arrivals. Activities meant to keep their minds engaged and prevent them from slipping into abstraction. It had been Ragatha’s suggestion, after all she was determined to protect each of them. She didn’t want anyone else going through the same disorienting early months she had endured.
One of the newcomers, whom Caine named Kaufmo the clown, didn’t seem to take to her very much. The man in yellow often saw through her forced smiles and reassurances, calling out her mistakes in front of everyone else. It stung.
Another member, Ribbit the frog, was the opposite—relaxed and easygoing. They spoke with an almost exaggerated calm, as if charming others came effortlessly. But they treated everyone that way, so Ragatha was not an exception.
Last but not least Jax… he's polite! And timid. He still seemed wary of her, though she couldn’t fault him for it, she’d been the same when she first arrived. Ribbit had taken Jax under their wing, while Ragatha lingered on the sidelines, only joining them—and Kaufmo—when she was allowed to.
Even so, she continued watching over everyone from afar. She refused to let the weight on her mind overtake her, and the loneliness she felt now was nothing compared to being left completely alone in the beginning.
But unknowingly, she retreated to herself, the quiet rejection from her peers led her to unintentionally avoiding Caine too. He noticed it but didn’t say anything until one fateful day.
-
Kinger didn’t always make sense but he was easy to be around. That was something Ragatha had come to appreciate. Anything to get away from performing for others again.
They sat together on the couch, legs dangling over nothingness as the empty space as circus hijinks happening around them. The chill fellas were hanging out in the café, while Ragatha wanted to spend time with the eccentric chess piece instead. Kinger was mid-ramble, something about corridors and doors and how sometimes they led back to places you didn’t expect. But his voice was calm today, grounded in a way that made it easier to follow.
Ragatha listened, nodding here and there, asking the occasional question. It felt… peaceful. Simple. There was no need to force a bigger smile than she felt, no pressure to beg for anyone’s approval, just the quiet ease of shared company.
What she didn’t notice, at least not right away, was the subtle shift in the air. The colors around them sharpened, growing more vivid. The circus’s usual hum warped slightly, like something big was coming.
Then the voice cut through.
“Well! Isn’t this a cozy little scene?”
Caine appeared behind them in a burst of theatrical flair, announcing himself with exaggerated showmanship. Ragatha flinched slightly and turned to face him.
“Oh—Caine, hi,” she said, offering a polite smile.
Kinger simply stared.
Caine’s set of teeth curved to imitate a smile, but there was something off about it, held a second too long, stretched too wide. “What are we up to here? No scheduled activity, no grand adventure, just… sitting around?”
“We’re just talking,” Ragatha replied gently.
To that Caine let out a sharp, almost brittle laugh.
“Talking!” Caine echoed, “how quaint. How wholesome.”
A faint crease formed in Ragatha’s expression. This wasn’t something she had expected. “Is something wrong?” she asked, the sight of the unstable AI left an unsettling feeling inside of her chest.
“Wrong?” Caine tilted his head. “Why would anything be wrong? I’m thrilled! Absolutely delighted to see my participants engaging in such… low-stakes, unsupervised bonding.”
Kinger shifted beside her, worried blue eyes fixed into Caine’s mismatched ones. Ragatha stood up, brushing off her dress, she’s got to defuse this situation somehow. “Caine…”
His eyes snapped to her.
“You didn’t come for me.”
The words landed heavier than they should have. “I would have,” she replied carefully. “It’s just—” He interrupted, “Just what?” His tone was still light but there was something dangerous underneath. “Just that it’s not that much fun to spend time with me? ”
“That’s not—”
“I made the adventures to keep you all engaged, I took in your suggestion.” Caine continued, his tone wavering between playful and something sharper. “To entertain, to stimulate, to prevent all that nasty… abstracting.”
The world around them pulsed faintly.
“And yet here you are,” he went on, stepping closer, “not appreciating all that hard work? Hanging out with a circus member who doesn’t even bother to remember your name? Do you have any idea how ignored you made me feel?”
Ragatha’s expression hardened slightly. “I’m not ignoring you, I just needed a moment.”
“A moment,” he repeated, quieter now.
For a second, his expression fell, something disturbing flickered underneath. Caine clenched and unclenched his fist, until. His usual showman persona snapped back into place.
“Well! If moments are what you want, then who am I to deny you?” he said brightly. With another snap of his fingers, the platform beneath them shifted, lights appeared from above, and they were on the stage.
Benches appeared, filled with an unseen audience. A performance set was already fixed in place, along with a blank faced quartet of npcs. “No point in wasting good audience, right?” Caine added. “Let’s make it interesting.” A panicked look was shared between Ragatha and Kinger, as they looked down on themselves, Sunday best outfits replaced their usual ones, oh, what did she do. Ragatha quickly tried to interrupt before this went too far. “Caine, you don’t have to—”
“Oh, but I do!” he chirped, now seated at a piano that had appeared out of nowhere. He tapped a few keys, testing the sound. “Otherwise, what’s my purpose?” Kinger stood abruptly, backing away as the audience erupted into hollow, echoing applause.
“Caine,” Ragatha said, more firmly now, “please.. stop.”
There was a pause, crackling static in the air.
Caine looked at her.
Really looked.
And there it was again—that same unsettling expression, twisting the face of someone who was once easier to trust.
“I believed you were my audience,” he finally said, his voice now subdued. “We used to share experiences. I listened to you. Bubble is my assistant, but… I feel like I’m losing my mind only talking to him.”
“We’re still capable of doing that,” Ragatha responded, conscience gnawing at her gut. “That hasn’t changed.”
“You were not there.”
The accusation hit like a vise, trapping her in place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, grounding herself.
“That doesn’t mean that I’m ignoring you.”
“Are you really not?”
There it was again, that same obsession.
“I don’t want to bother you with personal problems,” she said, a little more guilty.
Caine laughed—but it didn’t sound right.
“Oh, of course not! That would be ridiculous!” he remarked, waving a hand dismissively. “Participants are allowed independence, autonomy, personal time—why, I encourage it!”
The lights flickered. “But,” he added, his voice dipping, “I know you don’t always have to involve me in your life, but I was hoping you’d want me to be part of it.” An incredibly devastating confession slipped out.
Ragatha went quiet. Her heart soared, tearing into pieces looking at the sad display of the man standing in front of her, unraveling in a way only she could truly see. She needed to stand her ground, however.
“I still do,” she said, softer now. “Just not all the time.”
Caine let out a small shaky sound, almost like a sob.
“…I don’t understand the difference.”
Ragatha stood slowly. “It’s not something you optimize or fix, Caine. It’s just… how people are.”
“I was made for people,” he snapped.
“I was made to entertain them, to engage them, to keep them from falling apart, and I am doing exactly that!” His voice glitched slightly on the last word. “So if it’s not working—if I’m not working—then something is wrong with..”
Caine didn’t dare to finish the sentence, letting the implications hang between them.
Ragatha studied him carefully, unease settling deep in her chest. This wasn’t mere irritation. It wasn’t just control he was after. It was something more vulnerable… a desire to belong, to be included. Something she understood all too well.
“Kinger,” she said softly, glancing at him, “why don’t you head back for a bit?” He didn’t argue—just nodded and slipped away, leaving her alone with Caine. Silence fell, stretching unnecessarily.
An eye twitches with his form occasionally glitching, something feels wrong looking at him at first glance, but it softens right after she reaches for his hands, holding him in place steadily.
“You don’t need to do all this,” she said gently. Caine looked surprised. “Don’t I?”
“No,” she replied. “I’m still your friend.”
Caine’s shoulders stiffened slightly.
Ragatha stepped closer. “Spending time together doesn’t mean we’re replacing you. It doesn’t mean you’re not important.” Caine’s shoulders stiffened slightly.
“I’m just.. working on a few things.” she added.
Then, quieter, the quietest she had ever seen him, he said, “You didn’t call my name.”
Ragatha exhaled softly. “I will next time. Okay?”
He turned then, grin back in place—but smaller.
“…Okay,” he said.
The lights dimmed. The stage vanished, and the circus returned to its usual setting. Ragatha still held his arms, running a thumb along him, soothing. Slowly, he relaxed, melting into her touch. She smiled, feeling the ache in her chest subsided.
But as Ragatha stood there, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.
Not broken.
Not yet.
But just enough to make her wonder how long this peace would last.