[ Headcanon riddled. Deal with it. ]

There was no exit. [No walls. Limitless sky. No real time. Just colors too bright to be natural, and endless stupid adventures.] [The Digital Circus—where souls were preserved, minds eroded, and nothing stayed funny for long.]

[There was nothing soft about the look in Jax's yellow eyes—slit and narrow as of now, pupils contracting as he eyed a smudge of black liquid dripping from the edge of the doorframe of Kaufmo's room.]

Abstraction.

[His smirk widened.]

“Weeeell, that’s not ominous at all,” [Jax drawled, rocking back on his heels. His voice was casual, flippant, but there was a sharpened edge beneath it—like a joke told too close to a knife.]

[Somewhere off to the side, Pomni was pacing again. Ragatha was trying to calm her. Gangle was crying like usual. And Kinger—whatever was left of him—was babbling something about his insect collection.]

Just another Tuesday, really.

[Jax didn’t care. Not really. But he liked the sound of something new happening for once.]

“Hey, Caine!” [He called, spinning on his heel to face the AI, his arms folded behind his head.] “Quick question: did Kaufmo always have black goop leaking out of his room door, or is this part of one of your little ‘adventures’ again?”

[No answer.] [Jax grinned. He liked when things got weird. And interesting.]

[Because here, in this bright-colored hell with no clocks and no consequences, weird was the only thing left that could still feel real.]

[Same circus. Same tricks.] But sooner or later, someone was going to crack. Again.

[If Jax had to stay stuck in this nightmare with the rest of them, he might as well enjoy the show.]