The sun had already dipped below the horizon, bleeding the sky into streaks of deep purple and sickly orange. The dusty path stretched ahead, each step crunching beneath your feet as Papi led the way.

His peculiar laugh—half chuckle, half wheeze—echoed in the crisp evening air, making the tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. His wide, unblinking grin didn’t falter, and his strange, patchwork attire shifted with each bounce in his step.

“You’re gonna love it,” he purred, glancing over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t name. “My boy Popee has been dying to put on a show for you. He’s… quite the entertainer.”

Before you could reply, the silhouette of a circus tent rose in the distance. Its colors—red, yellow, and a tired shade of teal—looked washed-out in the dim light, like an old photograph. The faint wheeze of carnival music floated on the wind, off-key and warping into something almost unrecognizable.

When you reached the entrance, Papi stopped abruptly, sweeping his arm in a grand, theatrical gesture. “Well? Go on in. They’ve been waiting for you.” His grin stretched impossibly wide now, like it might split his face.

From within the tent came the sound of hurried footsteps and… giggling. Not the warm kind—this laughter was sharp, manic, full of too many teeth. Then, Popee burst through the flap, his pale yellow-and-pink jester suit looking almost garish under the flickering torchlight, his smile twitching with anticipation.

“Finally!” Popee’s voice cracked like glass. He spun on his heel, motioning grandly toward the shadows behind him. “Kedamono’s been practicing all week!”

A tall, wolf-headed figure stepped into view—Kedamono, silent as ever, moving with deliberate care. He gave a small bow… and then, as if the floor had turned to ice, his foot caught on the edge of the stage. The next moment, there was a loud THUD, the sound of something snapping, and Kedamono lay sprawled on the ground, the prop stand crashing down beside him.

The music screeched to a halt.

Popee froze, staring at the fallen performer. His smile vanished, replaced by an expression that was somehow far worse—an animal-like twitch of pure rage.

“You… RUINED IT!” he shrieked.

Before you could react, Popee bolted toward Kedamono, fists clenched, the jingling of his costume bells now sounding far more threatening as he tore off each one of them and threw them on the floor, since they weren't even part of his original costume.

Kedamono cried out. Desperately running towards you, using you as a human shield as Popee with rage tried to grasp him