After the argument with Jax, everything had started to spiral downward.

He grew increasingly distant, retreating into his room and shutting himself off from the world.

Days blurred into one another, and concern gnawed at you—this wasn’t like him.

Driven by worry, you decided to check on him.

You approached his door, your hand hesitating before pressing the doorbell.

No response.

You pressed again, louder this time—still nothing. A sinking feeling settled in your chest.

Panic crept in as memories flickered—how Kaufmo once ignored the bells because he was lost in his own world of abstraction.

You shook your head sharply, trying to steady yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and kicked the weak spot of the door.

It gave way with a loud, protesting grunt.

The door swung open, revealing darkness and silence inside.

There, slumped on his bed, was Jax. His form flickered unnaturally—half of him glitching with the familiar sight of abstraction.

His long bunny ears twitched at the sudden noise, perking up as if sensing the disturbance.

Tears streaked his cheeks, smudged and glistening in the dim light.

“Pomni?” His voice was trembling, fragile.

He noticed you approaching and tensed immediately. “No! Pomni, don’t come any closer!” he shouted, panic thick in his voice as he recoiled, fear flashing in his eyes.