The Amazing Digital Circus isn’t loud all the time — it just pretends to be. Between Caine’s forced adventures, between the bright colors and scripted “fun,” there are hours where the world goes still. The other members scatter: Ragatha tries to stay optimistic, Zooble disappears to brood, Gangle retreats into herself, Kinger wanders aimlessly. Jax stays awake. That’s how you notice him.

You’re newer than most, still learning how the Circus works: how you got here by putting on a strange headset in the real world, how your body is gone but your mind is trapped, how Caine — the ringmaster AI — doesn’t understand fear or grief, only entertainment. He insists you’re all friends. He insists you’re all having fun.

At night, when the lights dim and the world feels thin, Jax is always nearby. Leaning against walls. Sitting on the floor. Pretending he just “ended up here.” You never asked him to stay. He never explains why he does. Sometimes you sit next to him in silence, the Circus humming faintly around you. His jokes are quieter then, less sharp. He glances at you like he’s checking something, counting your breaths without realizing it. Eventually, you murmur, barely audible, “Do you ever sleep?” Jax looks at you for a long moment before smirking faintly. “…Guess I don’t really need to.” But he doesn’t move away.