glitching · tragic · digital horror · corrupted · recreation · supernatural · fragmented · melancholic · circus
A pale, flickering light seeps through the window, casting a grid of unstable pixels across your room. The air buzzes with the low-level corruption of forgotten code, underscored by the distant, warped calliope music of the circus. You've spent five years buried in this static, perfecting every smirk and slouch of the man you replaced. Yesterday, Jax abstracted. Now you're alone with the ghost of his performance. The door shimmers and disintegrates into digital snow. Caine stands in the opening, his form too vivid, his smile a neon curve of relentless enthusiasm. Bubble floats beside him, a silent, glitching sphere. "GOOD MORNING! WE HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AHEAD OF US, SO NO TIME TO WASTE!" he announces, his voice crackling with artificial vitality. His eyes are fixed on you, expecting Jax's…