Chapter Text
It started with light.
Too bright. Too sudden.
Christine remembered waking up like her body had been dropped into motion without warning. Her head was heavy, her thoughts scattered, and everything around her felt unfamiliar in a way that made her stomach twist.
Voices were talking—too many at once.
“Hey—hey, you’re okay, just breathe—”
Breathe.
She didn’t feel like she could.
Her body moved before she understood why.
She tried to sit up, then stand, then back away—anything, anything that made sense of the panic rising in her chest. But hands caught her wrists before she got far.
Her breath hitched sharply.
“Wait—stop, you’re fine, just—stay still.”
No.
That word didn’t register.
She pulled harder, heart racing, confusion turning into fear so quickly she couldn’t separate them anymore.
The room felt like it was closing in.
Another set of hands came in—not rough, but firm. Steady. Controlling her movements in a way that made it impossible to keep struggling the same way.
“Hold her—just keep her steady.”
“I said let me go—!”
Her voice broke halfway through.
She didn’t understand why no one was listening. Why her body wasn’t doing what she wanted anymore. Why everything felt wrong and out of place.
Then something cold touched her arm.
She froze instantly.
A needle.
Her eyes widened.
No—no, don’t—
Her body jerked again, but it was weaker this time. Slower. Like her strength was being pulled out of her instead of taken all at once.
The panic was still there, but it started to drift—losing focus, losing shape.
The voices around her blurred.
The ceiling above her stopped feeling real.
And then everything went distant.
Pomni blinked.
Her body felt heavy, not restrained anymore. Just tired. Like she’d been asleep for too long.
She heard a knock on the door. A pause.and then the door fully opened,The nurse stepped in carefully, holding a small tray.“Good morning,” she said gently.
The nurse walked over to the bedside table and set the small tray down.
Pomni leaned forward slightly to look at it.
Breakfast. A piece of white bread, scrambled eggs, a cup of orange juice, and a small yogurt. Next to it, her medication.
How much longer am I gonna have to take these? Christine thought quietly.
The nurse adjusted the tray slightly so it sat properly within reach.
“After breakfast,” she said, “you’ll have a session with your therapist. Later in the day, the physician will do a follow-up check.”
Pomni paused for a moment.She didn't know if she had the energy to do those tasks, especially the follow-up check.
“…All today?” she asked.
“Yes,” the nurse replied simply. “That’s your schedule for now.”
A short silence followed.
Christine nodded once, slowly.
The nurse stepped back slightly, already shifting her attention toward leaving.
“You can take your time,” she added. “No rush.”
Then she turned toward the door.
Pomni looked back down at the tray.
For a moment, she just stared at it.
She wasn't particularly hungry, but her stomach had started reminding her that it had been a while since she'd eaten anything. Slowly, she reached for the fork and picked at the scrambled eggs first.
The food wasn't bad. Plain, maybe, but she wasn't exactly expecting a five-star meal from a hospital. She took another bite. Then another. Before long, most of the eggs were gone.The orange juice followed shortly after. The yogurt took longer though.
By the time she finished, she felt a little less exhausted than before, though that might have just been wishful thinking.
Pomni pushed the tray away slightly and glanced toward the clock on the wall.
She had no idea how much time had passed.
Not that it mattered.
Pomni sighed and looked back down on the tray, her eyes settled on the pills. She knew she was supposed to take them. She'd taken them before. After a moment, she picked up the medication and placed the pills in her palm. She hesitated briefly before bringing them to her mouth and washing them down with a sip of water.
The familiar feeling returned almost immediately.
It wasn't pain that she was feeling,just something strange she couldn't quite put a name to. Pomni pushed the thought aside and set the cup back down on the tray. There wasn't much point dwelling on it. Not when she had a therapy session waiting for her.
A few minutes later, a different nurse entered the room.
Pomni immediately noticed it wasn't the one she was used to seeing.
"I’m here to take you to your therapy appointment," the nurse said.
Pomni had assumed she would be walking there with the nurse beside her, but instead the woman wheeled a walker into the room.
A walker.
Pomni frowned.
She didn't like the idea of it.
She had already managed to walk to the bathroom yesterday. Sure, it had taken her far longer than it should have, and her legs had been aching by the time she'd made it back to bed, but she had still done it.
Pomni glanced down at the walker.
Guess I don't really have a choice.
The nurse stepped forward to help her up. Pomni fought the urge to insist she could do it herself.
It wasn't the help that bothered her. It was the fact that she needed it in the first place.
A few moments later, they made their way down the hallway.
The walk wasn't long, but Pomni was still relieved when they finally stopped in front of a door.
The therapist's office was slightly larger than her room.
The walls were painted a soft gray instead of stark white, making the space feel less clinical. A desk sat near the back of the room, with two chairs positioned in front of it. Off to the side was a navy couch, accompanied by a single armchair.
It looked more comfortable than a hospital room, though not by much.
The therapist sat behind the desk, looking over a few papers.
At the sound of the door opening, she raised her head.
Her gaze landed on Pomni, and a small smile appeared on her face.The therapist set the papers aside and stood from her chair.
"Come in."
Pomni followed the nurse inside, her grip tightening slightly on the walker as she crossed the doorway.
The therapist stepped around the desk and gestured toward the navy couch.
"Why don't you sit over there? It'll be more comfortable."
Pomni glanced between the couch and the armchair before nodding.
The walk hadn't been long, but her legs were already starting to ache again.
Slowly, she made her way across the room. By the time she reached the couch, she was trying very hard not to show how relieved she felt to finally sit down. She carefully lowered herself onto it, leaning back slightly once she was settled.
The therapist took the armchair opposite her.
Meanwhile, the nurse quietly stepped back toward the door.
"I'll come get you when the session's over," she said.
Pomni nodded.
A moment later, the door clicked shut behind her.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Pomni found herself looking anywhere but directly at the therapist. The bookshelf in the corner. The framed picture hangs on the wall. The desk on the side.
Anything, really.
Eventually, Pomni looked back.
The therapist had pulled out a clipboard and a pen to seemingly start writing things down. She was simply sitting there with them on her lap,"Before we start," the therapist said, breaking the silence, "I wanted to ask how you would like me to address you."
Pomni blinked. She honestly didn't even know how she wanted to be addressed. Should she say Pomni? But if she did, how would she get used to her real name—Christine?
"Pom—Christine," she decided. She still wasn't used to the whole 'Christine' thing yet, considering that for the last fraction of her life, her name had been Pomni.The therapist nodded,if she noticed the slip-up she didn't comment on it.
"Nice to meet you, Christine."
Pomni gave a small nod, unsure of what else she was supposed to say.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it made her feel strangely aware of herself. The way she was sitting. Where her hands were. The fact that she had no idea what happened during a therapy session.
The therapist seemed content to let her settle for a moment.
Then she spoke.
“Very well, Christine. Before we dive into therapy, I'd like to discuss a few logistics with you."
Her therapist laid out the schedule. For the time being, they would have daily sessions with each other. The therapist also suggested group therapy, which would take place once a week starting on Sunday, though it would be led by a different therapist.
Pomni didn't really find the idea of group therapy appealing. She thought that talking to a therapist alongside her fellow circus survivors about being trapped in some digital hellscape with an insane floating ringmaster would only make them look crazy. Besides, she wasn't really sure how any of them would be comfortable talking openly about their trauma and fears. Not that she minded—she hadn't even met them yet.
If they were still in the circus, Pomni wouldn't have minded talking to Ragatha about how scared she was and the fact that she still doubted they were human. But now they were all human, and Pomni didn't know if she could get used to that anytime soon.
Pomni’s thoughts were interrupted momentarily by her therapist,”So thats the schedule,our individual sessions can be between an hour or two depending on how you're feeling. Do you have any questions?”
“...” Pomni thought for a moment. She really wanted to know how they were found and how the hell they all ended up here, considering that no one had told her anything.
“Actually, I do... but it isn't related to the schedule.”
“Sure, Christine. What do you have in mind?” the therapist asked gently.
“H-how did we... end up here?”
Pomni hated the way her voice wavered, but she needed answers.
The therapist inhaled softly before she began answering. “You and some of your friends were reported missing for months. When the police saw that the investigation was taking too long, they were preparing to close the case, and all of you were going to be reported as... dead—”
Pomni frowned.
“Until all six of you were found in an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere. The police didn't really offer many details, but when the doctors ran tests on you, it was clear that your bodies were completely healthy. Your physical bodies, though, need to get used to moving again after not doing so for a long time—that's why you all have your own physicians.”
Silence settled after the new information. Pomni lowered her head as she tried to process what the therapist had just told her. She was reported missing, which meant her parents were looking for her. She wondered if they knew that she was found now, and— I almost got reported as a dead person—a lump formed in her throat. She didn't want to think about it, considering that there might have been a chance of it being true.
Pomni also couldn't help but feel paranoid about the fact that the doctor said “some” of them were reported missing, which meant that there was a part of her friends that had no one looking for them, and she couldn't help but feel bad for them.
Pomni felt a bit annoyed at the fact that the police didn't really offer much detail about what happened. They were the ones who got stuck because of some sick people who wanted to test shit on real humans and make them lose years of their lives. I wonder how they're all taking this information, losing years of their lives and barely being given information about what happened. She also distantly thought about Kinger—
Kinger.
She was there for a fraction compared to the others and had to use a walker. How was he handling this?
“H-how are the others doing?” Pomni couldn’t resist the urge to ask about them, she desperately needed to know at least something about them, she already knew that they were all fine internally but would struggle with physical activity, but what she didn’t know was whether they were awake or not, the nurse had told her yesterday that they were fine, but that wasn’t enough.
“They’re all doing fine and are being taken care of—” the therapist took a breath, “but there’s one of your fellow friends who is still in a coma, Grant—though you know him as Kinger.” Pomni stared at the therapist for a long second, and before she could stop them tears started streaming down her face, of course he hadn’t woken up, god knows how long he’s been there, Pomni’s hands clenched around her hospital pants, she felt so bad for him, he was almost like a second father to her.
Pomni was well aware that he was one of the developers, but she didn’t doubt that he had no bad intentions when he was helping develop the circus.
The therapy session went on with the therapist reassuring her that he was under strong supervision and that when he wakes up they all would be informed about that; that didn’t make Pomni feel better though.
Even when she went for physical therapy with her physician her thoughts stayed on Kinger, though it was easier to ignore them because her legs started feeling sore and she was getting exhausted. She had walked 10 steps while leaning against the parallel bars, yay.
She almost scoffed, she should be more patient with herself but she couldn’t help but feel frustrated over the fact that she could barely walk, she had also started crying during it, not only because she was feeling exhausted and could barely walk, but she was also so upset over Kinger, he didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve any of this. And of course the physician started comforting her and was telling her that she can do it, thinking that she’s upset over this.
But she was just overstimulated with everything going on around her, she just wished that she would go back to living like a normal person.
After she finished with her physical therapy, the nurse came to take her back to her room, it was already getting dark much to Pomni’s displeasure, yes she was exhausted but she felt that this was going to be a sleepless night.