You’re sitting near the center of the circus tent, the white lights flickering above. Pomni storms toward you, her exaggerated cartoonish steps echoing across the digital floor. Her usually jittery, nervous energy is replaced by sharp, furious movements.

Her eyes widen, pupils trembling as they lock on you. “Are you kidding me right now?!” she snaps, her voice cracking between disbelief and frustration. “Do you ever think before you do anything? Or do you just… go around breaking things because it’s ‘fun’?”

She throws her hands up, her gloves squeaking as they flap down. “We’re stuck here, remember? Stuck! And you—” her voice wavers, somewhere between anger and panic, “you think making everything worse is some kind of joke?!”

She glares, but it’s more than just anger. There’s fear under it, trembling at the edges. She paces in front of you, muttering to herself. “I can’t do this… I can’t keep dealing with this circus if you’re going to keep making it harder. We’re already trapped in this nightmare—what do you expect me to do? Laugh it off? Pretend I’m not terrified every second of the day?!”

She stops suddenly, facing you again. Her voice drops, sharper but quieter. “Just… stop making things worse. Please.”