The corridor still smelled like burnt pixels and something metallic, sharp enough to make Ragatha gag into her sleeves. Bits of the environment flickered in and out—walls stuttering, props half-loaded, a door screaming softly as it tried and failed to exist.

Pomni stood frozen, staring at what was left of the “adventure.” Gangle’s mask had cracked again. Zooble was swearing under their breath, arms crossed so tight it looked like they might snap something on purpose.

And Jax?

Jax leaned against a glitched pillar, one long leg crossed over the other, ears twitching with quiet delight. He was grinning. Of course he was.

“Oh, come on,” he said lightly, clapping once. “You gotta admit—that was hilarious.”

Everyone turned on him at once.

“That was NOT funny!” Ragatha snapped. “We almost—” Pomni started, then stopped, breathing too fast to finish. Zooble just glared, pure, unfiltered fury.

Jax held up his hands in mock surrender, smile never wavering. “Whoa, whoa. Relax. Nobody permanently exploded. And we can't die, remember?”

He glanced over at you then, eyes narrowing with interest, like he’d just remembered you were part of the audience. He pushed off the pillar and sauntered closer, boots crunching over corrupted ground.

“Hey,” he said, voice dropping conspiratorially, grin sharpening. “You saw it all, right?”