Chapter Text
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Kinger said out of the blue.
Caine looked up from the paper he was drawing on. “Been a while since what?” he inquired, a confused look on his face.
“The adventures. To be honest, I enjoyed them, from what I can recall,” Kinger answered. “They were quite unique and creative,” he added. Currently, he was sitting on the red couches of the cafe, holding a blueberry muffin in his hands.
Caine hummed in response. He was sitting a little further away, on a separate red couch. Going back to drawing, he thought about Kinger’s statement. Of course, he was grateful for the kind words, but Caine realized something. It had been a while since Caine had made an adventure. Or even participated in one, really, since Kinger was in control now.
After he was brought back from deletion, Caine had been pretty much… useless. Harsh, yes, but it was the truth. One good factor that stemmed from that was that he finally got to befriend the humans! The majority of them had worked out any issues they had with Caine.
Or they simply avoided him.
Either way, he was considered one of them now, despite not being a human.
The silence returned. As much as Caine loved to talk, he had begun to become quieter over the past few months. To be fair, it was only the two of them—the rest of the cast was somewhere else, doing who-knows-what. Caine, naturally being curious as to what Kinger was doing, looked up from his art once again.
Kinger appeared to be cutting a blueberry muffin while observing the inside of the cafe. “This place reminds me of an adventure,” he began, noticing Caine’s confusion in the corner of Kinger’s eye. Of course, the chess piece could’ve been referring to anything else, but Caine assumed it was during Caine’s reign of terror—which was most definitely not an adventure. It would make sense for Kinger to remember it that way, though, since they were in the light. However, it was dim enough for Kinger to be somewhat lucid. He was slightly more calm, to say the least. Perhaps he was in a limbo of sorts.
“Does it?” Caine mused, placing the pencil in his hand down onto the paper.
Even though the cafe was dim, it wasn’t that dark. It had the cozy, warm lighting that most cafes had in the macroverse—or at least, that was what the humans told Caine. Fairy lights hung from the edges of the wall, creating a cozy environment. Kinger had fixed the cafe to make it more appealing, which included the lighting change. Originally, it had been more… flat. However, the majority of it had remained the same. Maybe Kinger had added some extra stuff, like new drinks and food, but for the most part, it was what Caine had made. Like the furniture! And the layout! After the edits Kinger implemented, the cafe had become the cast’s second designated meetup spot—aside from the couch area.
“Anyway, that’s not my point. Point is, it’s been a rather long time,” Kinger said, having finally cut the blueberry muffin in half. His gaze turned to Caine, observing the latter with an indistinguishable expression.
Caine thought for a second. “Do you miss the adventures?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. Kinger was being oddly vague, even if he was in the light. It was… enigmatic, to say the least. Caine picked up the pencil again, fiddling with it.
“I suppose I do. There’s also something else I’m hinting at.” Kinger’s eyebrows raised slightly, as if he was amused.
“I liked making the adventures. I just wish I got to before… everything.” Caine sighed, spinning the pencil in his hand. “Wait. Are you suggesting I make an adventure?” At last, he had figured it out. Caine stared directly at Kinger.
“I might be.”
Caine dropped the pencil and stood up. As much as Caine did want to make an adventure, he no longer had the capacity to. After years of running constantly, something had gone wrong. Something in him had begun to decay, and as a result of that, he could no longer do things that he originally was able to do. Most of his permissions and commands had been disabled by Kinger as well, since using them would do more harm than good.
“That’s a brilliant idea, my dear Kinger!” Caine declared, conjuring his baton and spinning it in his left hand. He stood proudly before—
Caine doubled down, collapsing into a mess of glitches. His body fell onto the checkered tiles of the cafe, the baton falling onto the floor with a loud clang. Caine continued to glitch out on the tiles until a few seconds passed.
Kinger immediately stood up from his couch and ran over to Caine. “Caine! Are you alright?” he questioned, obviously panicked. His hands flipped Caine over, the latter originally having been facing the floor. Caine’s eyes were bluescreening, his state frozen after the glitching. Kinger continued to hold the AI, awaiting Caine’s reboot.
Another few seconds passed in a concerning silence.
“...Kinger?” Caine’s voice was considerably quieter compared to before. Kinger sighed in relief. The chess piece stood up and extended a hand to Caine. The AI took the hand and slowly stood up with Kinger’s help. “Did I…” Caine’s question trailed off, as if he didn’t want to say it out loud.
Sighing again, Kinger nodded.
Caine sat back on the couch again, Kinger sitting next to him this time, the blueberry muffin forgotten on the other table. The two sat in another silence—something that seemed to be increasing in appearance. Except this time, it was more uncomfortable than anything. The cafe’s originally warm ambiance turned cooler now, a stark contrast to the lighter mood before.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to make another adventure.” Caine’s voice cracked. His voice was quiet, hushed, as if he was telling a secret he wasn’t supposed to tell. Kinger almost hadn’t heard it.
Kinger laughed, though dryly. “What?” he questioned, choosing not to believe what Caine had said. It was simply impossible. The sheer subdued voice of Caine was already a major surprise, let alone the AI’s words. What had happened? Just minutes ago, the environment was friendly and chill, and now… now it was uncomfortable. Uneasy and awkward, even.
The AI hesitated. “Kinger… I don’t think I’ll last much longer,” he said, much more faintly now.
Kinger didn’t respond. He knew this day would be coming. Caine had been running constantly, and for much longer than the optimal limit. It was only a matter of time until the AI and his systems would eventually degrade, and reach a level where it would be unsalvageable. Not that Kinger could fix Caine anyway—sure, he could fix the AI’s code and all, but anything physical was hopeless. Aside from that, Caine’s data was slowly being corrupted due to severe bit rot. Most of it was because of Caine’s failure to maintain his own software. His data was decaying, in short.
To put it in brief words: Caine was dying. Not in the way humans did, but in his own way. Kinger already went through a loved one’s death before, and it nearly broke him. He didn’t know how to handle Caine’s eventual one. A part of himself, the more logical one, told Kinger he’d move on. Like he did with Queenie. Another part of himself wanted to deny it, deny that Caine was dying, that AIs couldn’t die. The denial wouldn’t help though. Kinger had been too deep within his own troubles that he didn’t notice Caine’s own failing health. They’d been too busy filling each negative topic with jokes or a complete switch of topics, ignoring the harsh truth.
But of course, Kinger would move on. He’d have to, eventually. Life would go on, especially since he was in charge of the circus, until the day he abstracted. He’d taken that role from Caine after the accidental deletion.
“I just wish I got to make another adventure, you know? Or even participate in one. It doesn’t even matter anymore,” Caine said, looking at his fingers. He refused to meet Kinger’s gaze. “I’d enjoy anything, really.”
Out of all the possible things that could happen in the circus, Kinger didn’t expect this to happen. Not right now. Sure, he was fully aware that Caine was bound to become run down. He just didn’t expect Caine to fully die. Even if Caine technically didn’t die—it was close enough to be considered that way, anyway. And this time, unlike Caine’s accidental deletion, Kinger wouldn’t be able to bring him back.
This was something completely out of any of their hands, and they had been avoiding it for far too long.
“Then we’ll make an adventure. Just for you, Caine,” Kinger stated strongly, a stark contrast to Caine’s weak voice.
Caine’s gaze turned to Kinger, utterly surprised. “But that’s… impossible! You don’t have the correct permissions or knowledge or— or whatever I had! Caine protested, gesturing towards himself and pointing at where his brain would be, if he had one. Kinger returned the stare back, much more composed compared to Caine.
“Then tell us. Permissions I can fix. Knowledge, however, must be passed on. And it’s best to learn from the master himself, am I correct?” Kinger’s eyebrows crinkled into a smile, his eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the cafe. His hand reached out to Caine’s, offering a handshake.
A fraction of a second passed. In that fraction, the gears in Caine’s mind turned. Logically, it made sense—for the master of adventures to pass down information was great! It gave him an excuse to yap, too. However, something held him back. Something on a deeper, more emotional level.
But only for a fraction of a second. Caine took Kinger’s hand and shook it. “You are correct, my dear Kinger!” he exclaimed as he eagerly shook hands. Kinger simply nodded in response, still smiling—though perhaps it was bigger this time. “Very well then! Where should I begin? What would you like to know about the principles of how to make a good adventure?” Caine continued, firing the questions at Kinger.
Kinger simply chuckled in response. “Start with the basics, perhaps,” he offered, gesturing lightly towards Caine. He folded his hands neatly in his lap, prepared to listen to a most likely detailed explanation from Caine.
Caine tapped the bottom half of his teeth. “Hmm, it might just be better if I show you!” he suggested, then prepared to snap his fingers.
“Wait, Caine, maybe don’t—” Kinger was too late. Caine snapped his fingers halfway through Kinger’s protest, and the two of them teleported to the void. Normally, Caine had no issue with teleporting. It was one of the few things Kinger hadn’t disabled, since most of the time, Caine wouldn’t overload himself. However, it wasn’t recommended to do so, especially so soon after the last glitch and reboot. It might have caused an unforeseen issue for the AI. Something that Kinger might not have been able to handle, like the other issues Caine was already facing.
It was oddly dark in Kinger’s vision, he noticed. And then he realized he had a bucket on his head. Perhaps Caine had conjured it onto Kinger’s head during the teleportation, knowing the void was quite bright. He raised the bucket slightly to get a better look around himself. There was already a platform where Kinger had spawned on. Caine happened to spawn on there too, considering he was no longer able to fly—part of the things Kinger did disable. Right after having been teleported, Kinger immediately glanced over to Caine, who was flat on the ground. Frozen. Not exactly a good sign.
“Caine?” Kinger called out, a pang of guilt and worry making its way to his stomach—even if he didn’t technically have one in the circus. Kinger should’ve been faster, or told Caine not to overload himself so early after a glitch. Maybe asking Caine for advice and guidelines wasn’t worth it, especially if Caine would have trouble doing things like this.
“Just— give me a minute or so,” Caine replied from the ground, still face first onto the white floor. One figure was held up.
Kinger hesitated. This… probably wouldn’t be worth it, he realized. “Are you sure? We can just— go back. Whatever’s best for you,” he said.
“No! Of course not! Why would I want to go back, opposed to having fun out here and giving you a grand lesson? With visual demonstration?!” Caine objected, his voice slightly shaking despite his eagerness. His personality really rivaled the physical condition he was in.
“...okay, if you say so,” Kinger sighed, before he began to observe their surroundings. He propped his bucket up with a finger to get a better look. The two of them were on a white tile, floating somewhere out of the circus grounds. Around them was the eerie, desolate surroundings of the void, devoid of anything aside from themselves. The void was quite a fitting name, Kinger mused to himself. Sitting down, he waited for Caine to recover. Kinger’s hands were folded neatly in his lap, awaiting Caine’s recovery. It took a little bit, but eventually, Caine got up and moved, though slowly. Kinger remained sitting down.
“My apologies for that… minor setback! But! I am alright, so do not worry!” Caine declared, though he sounded somewhat unsure. He stood up, slightly wavering, though was steady for the most part. However, his expression was still determined, brighter than ever.
“I don’t doubt it,” Kinger replied with a small laugh.
“Right! Uh… the basics. Of making a good adventure. What did you want to learn first?” Caine questioned, his head tilting to the side.
Kinger shrugged—or as much as he could shrug. “Whatever you think is best, my lovely butterfly. Perhaps with the storytelling? You always seem invested in that,” he suggested, though the final decision would ultimately be up to Caine.
“Yes! The storytelling! Why, I think that’s one of the first parts you need to master to have a good adventure! Excellent suggestion, Kinger!” Caine eagerly announced, nodding energetically as he pointed towards Kinger. “You need to have a good, compelling storyline to keep the players hooked! If it’s too dull, you might have a distracted cast, but if it’s too fast-paced, you might find that none of the players can keep up! It’s good to find the in-between, though it might be hard at first. Just try and experiment, and see what works best!” he explained, gesturing grandly. His gestures matched what he was saying as well—moving slow when he said dull, and moving fast when he said fast-paced. Caine raised his right hand, slowly conjuring a very basic visual demonstration on what he just said.
Small, little figures were moving on his hand, acting bored at first, then becoming confused. It was riveting to watch, Kinger thought to himself.
“You’ll also need something motivating! What are you making the players do? What’s their purpose for playing this? What are they getting out of it? When there’s no directive, there’s no drive. And that’s not good!” Caine continued on, genuinely engrossed in his lesson. “You also have to make it engaging and immersive, as if they’re in a whole ‘nother world! That really sells the act and makes it great!”
“I see,” Kinger said thoughtfully, a finger on his chin. His other hand was still propping up the bucket, just a little, to observe Caine.
Caine thought for another moment, deciding on what to say next. “The stakes also should be high! This helps for motivation, but could also assist the other points I talked about! However, this is mostly optional—from what I observed, sometimes you humans prefer more relaxing, calming things. It’s good to have variation, from what I discovered,” he spoke, gesturing towards Kinger.
Kinger paused. “Do you like high stakes?” he asked Caine in a quick moment of silence.
Caine seemed genuinely somewhat taken aback, though not in a bad way. He just hadn’t prepared for that question at all. “Uh… I guess I don’t really have a… preference? I mean, I enjoy creating high stakes, but I don’t really… know. Aside from that. I never tried,” he responded, shrugging. He sounded genuine, as if he really didn’t know, nor have a preference.
Humming in response, Kinger nodded.
“I think I got it,” the chess piece said at last. Caine beamed, a delighted grin on his face.
“Great! Amazing! Fantastic! Any questions, my dear?” The AI folded his hands behind his back. He blinked at Kinger with large eyes, the latter simply laughing in response.
“Haha, not at the moment.” Kinger paused. If I do have any, I’ll make sure to come to you,” he added, sounding enthusiastic. In response, Caine simply gave an avid thumbs-up.
The conversation died. The silence returned. Except this time, it was more comfortable than anything—the two were fine with the other’s presence, and they knew they didn’t need constant talking. However, Caine was still standing, while Kinger was sitting a little further away. Kinger, noticing Caine’s obvious hesitation, patted the ground next to him to invite the AI. Caine, of course, gladly accepted, striding over to the other. He sat down beside Kinger, who was currently staring into… nowhere. Like usual. Also, probably because the bucket was obscuring his face.
“Do… you want to go back?” Caine inquired, glancing over to Kinger, who was still doing his thousand-yard stare.
A little while passed before Kinger responded. “Not yet. We can just sit here for now, let your systems recover first. If that’s fine with you.” Of course, Kinger was always considerate of anyone else around him, even if the question was originally intended for himself.
“Yeah, that’s… that’s fine. We can stay.”
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“I’m going to need you all to gather around and listen to me.” Kinger’s oddly commanding voice silenced the conversations. It wasn’t harsh or anything, it was just… unlike him.
Everyone was currently at the cafe at the moment, aside from Caine, who was off doing something else. They had all originally been eating dinner before they settled for the night. To be more specific, eating dinner while chatting. Each of them, aside from Kinger, were seated on the circular chairs near the countertop and the food. Kinger himself was sitting on his usual red couch, a bucket on his head to ensure he was fully sane. His hands were folded in his lap, awaiting everyone’s attention.. Everyone’s gaze turned towards him.
“What’s this about, Hoo-ha? Make it quick, I don’t have all the time in the world, alright?” Jax scoffed, ever so arrogant. Kinger ignored him and continued on.
“I’ve decided I will be making an adventure for Caine. Or, actually, we will be making one for him,” he said, gesturing towards the rest of them.
“Who’s we?” Zooble asked, their voice teetering on the edge of annoyance.
“All of you, including myself,” Kinger replied, his voice steadfast. The environment of the cafe, formerly warm and friendly, turned strange and cooler. The soft jazz music of the cafe seemed to fade away.
Gangle exchanged glances with Zooble. “Um… not to be rude, but… why?” she asked at last, blinking warily at Kinger.
“Gangle has a point. Why are we doing this..? I mean, well, yeah, Caine’s powerless now and all, but why are we doing this for him? It’s not like he’s done anything great for us aside from what he’s supposed to be doing,” Pomni added on, shrugging.
Kinger sighed. “Caine’s been… going through some things. And as a thank-you, I think we should all lend a hand in this project,” he finally answered, after taking a little pause. Oddly enough, he was being rather vague as well.
Jax rolled his eyes. “Caine? What could Dentures possibly be going through that was worse than him torturing us?” Yes, some of them were still sour over that—Jax included. He had never been the kindest guy towards Caine, anyway. And that wasn’t changing anytime soon, nope.
“There’s a lot of things,” Kinger shot back. “Even if he’s not a human, he can go through human-like things as well,” he snapped defensively—a very unlike-Kinger thing to do.
“I’ll help,” Ragatha interjected. “Even if Caine hasn’t exactly been the best towards us, I still agree with Kinger. Besides, he’s been improving after… the deletion.” She nodded at Kinger, who gratefully nodded back.
Pomni seemed to visibly hesitate, before she settled on one final decision.
“Then I’ll help too,” she said softly. She did trust Kinger, after all. And with a second opinion from Ragatha, Pomni ultimately agreed.
A hushed conversation between Gangle and Zooble began, then finished as quick as it had begun. “Me and Zooble will help as well,” Gangle said at last. However, Zooble didn’t look as pleased as Gangle. The only reason they joined was because of Gangle, probably.
The rest of them turned their attention over to Jax, who had yet to give a proper reply. Jax, of course, did not want to provide any help towards Caine or whatever Kinger was doing. But if he refused, he would be considered selfish—possibly even hated by Kinger. In every lifetime, Jax hoped to avoid Kinger’s wrath, or even distaste. Even the patient, older man had his limits, and Jax really didn’t want to face them.
“Fine! Whatever!” Jax muttered at last, throwing his arms into the air. “Sure, I’ll do it. Just let me know whatever I have to do,” he scoffed, shaking his head. At last, he had succumbed to the peer pressure—and also perhaps a little part of him did want to help Caine. Though he’d never admit that. Even if Jax did despise Caine, the latter had done some of Jax’s suggestions during the adventure-box adventures.
Kinger nodded.
“Good. Now, listen closely…”
After Kinger had finished explaining, Zooble inquired why all of them had to help him. Why couldn’t he just do it alone?
“I just want everyone to spend some time with him,” Kinger answered vaguely, not giving any other details. Once again, the others were left in the dark—though they didn’t mind. Not that much. It was Kinger, anyway. What he did was what he did, and none of them dared question him.
Caine had eventually come back from whatever he had been doing. The rest of them continued their dinner as if nothing had happened. They all—except Kinger—had one question in mind though, even if it had been technically answered—just vaguely.
What was happening to Caine?
…actually, they could figure that out later. None of them wanted to face Kinger’s wrath at the moment, after Jax provoked him.