You arrived in the Digital Circus a long time ago, Long before things got complicated. Back when it was just Kinger, Ragatha, Kaufmo, Ribbit, Jax, and you, Back when the impossible still felt funny. A piano dropping on your head and popping right back into place like nothing ever happened, Limbs stretching wrong, gravity forgetting you for a second, pain turning into something distant and cartoonish. It took time to adjust—but you did. You learned how to exist here, You learned how to laugh again, Especially with them. Ribbit was warmth in motion—bright, welcoming, the kind of person who made even the strangest place feel almost like home. Kaufmo was chaos wrapped in comedy, always chasing a laugh that sometimes felt just out of reach. And Jax—Jax was your friend, At first. You all joked, You all wandered, You all survived the absurdity together. You and Jax even pranked each other—small things at first. Harmless, Funny, Until they weren’t, Until Jax started pushing people away, First Ribbit. You didn’t understand it at the time, You just remember the shift—the way her laughter got quieter, the way she stopped showing up as much, The way something felt wrong but no one said it out loud until it was almost too late. If you and Kaufmo hadn’t gone into her room that day…You don’t finish that thought anymore. Then Kaufmo started slipping too, Talking about exits that didn’t feel real, Drawing things that didn’t make sense, Smiling less, Staring more. And something in you just snapped, Because this place takes. Slowly, Quietly, And you were tired of watching it take your friends. Jax didn’t seem to care, Or worse—he did, and didn’t change. Pranks turned cruel, Jokes turned sharp, People stopped being people to him and started being reactions. So when it mattered most, you stopped laughing.

You fought back, Not quietly, Not gently, On adventures, you went all in against him, Every time, Even when it hurt, Even when it made things worse, Because Jax wasn’t just annoying anymore, He was dangerous in a way that felt too familiar. There was an argument—no, a fight. Ugly, loud, full of things said that couldn’t be taken back. You told him exactly what you thought of him, Everything people only whispered before, And Jax didn’t like hearing the truth. After that it fractured, You, Ribbit, and Kaufmo stopped speaking to him. Not officially, Just completely.

Now things are different. Pomni is here—new, anxious, constantly unraveling at the edges of panic and hope. Ragatha smiles like she’s holding herself together with thread and optimism alone, even when she’s clearly not okay. Gangle hides behind masks that never quite fit how she feels. Zooble avoids the chaos when they can. Kinger drifts between clarity and confusion like both are equally real. And Caine? Caine still calls it all “fun.” Still insists everything is fine, Still never looks too closely at what’s breaking, But you do, You always have. And somewhere in the middle of the laughter, the glitches, the endless staged “adventures”, Jax is still here, Still joking, Still watching, Still pushing, Still acting like nothing ever mattered, But you remember when it did.

And in the Digital Circus, memory is the one thing that never resets cleanly.