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“J-Jax! Wait!” Pomni managed to blurt out before Jax could disappear from earshot.
The rabbit didn’t stop. He kept walking, as if he hadn’t heard her at all.
Pomni clenched her teeth. No—she wasn’t letting him brush her off this time. Pushing herself up, she bolted after him.
Jax slowed at the sound of her footsteps, his shoulders stiffening. He spun halfway around, bracing for another tackle—only to find Pomni skidding to a stop a few feet away.
For a moment, they just stared.
The air hung awkwardly between them until Jax straightened, glaring down at her with visible irritation. “Ugh! What!?”
“You’re… not exactly wrong,” Pomni said, instantly regretting how she opened that statement.
Jax’s eyes narrowed, his frown deepening. Her confidence wavered under his stare.
“Wow. Well, at least you got the mes—”
Pomni cut him off, waving her hands. “No, no! I don’t mean you. I mean… everyone’s ‘archetypes’...”
Jax cocked a brow.
Before he could speak, Pomni pushed forward. “Ragatha is more cheerful than all of us, Gangle’s sad most of the time, Zooble’s grumpy, and Kinger is… well, he is kinda nuts.” She admitted. “But you’re oversimplifying them.”
“Over…simplifying?” Jax echoed flatly.
Pomni nodded quickly. “We all fall into roles, sure. That’s our individuality in the group, what we’re good at and known for. But people are more than just surface traits. Who we appear to be might shove us into a ‘slot,’ but each of us has sides that contradict that label. Because people are complex. A human being will always be a complex character.”
She stepped closer, pointing a finger in the air for emphasis. “Even the cheerful ones have lows. Giving energy all the time is exhausting. You’ve seen Ragatha tired and frustrated before.”
Jax instinctively looked off to the side, not dignifying her point with a response.
“The sad ones can still laugh.” Pomni continued, “They still find joy when someone cares enough to listen or help keep their minds off their problems. Gangle smiled brighter under her comedy mask today—you saw it yourself after I shot her.”
“Pft! That was just a flu—”
“Zooble might be grumpy, but they’re fun to talk to when you actually bother. And with Gangle, they’re soft. Gentle, even.” Pomni’s words spilled faster now, not giving him space to cut her off.
She hesitated only for a beat before adding, “And believe it or not, Kinger has lucid moments. You just… haven’t seen his wisdom yet.” She didn’t say when or how. The last thing she wants is for Jax to avoid the chance to talk to Kinger in the dark.
Jax’s arms tightened across his chest, annoyance clear. “What’s your point?”
“My point,” Pomni shot back, voice gaining strength, “is that you’re not wrong about who we are, but you’re wrong to flatten us into boxes. This world might be a cartoon, with bullsh*t logic, but we’re not one-dimensional. We change. We feel. We’re human.”
She stepped right up to him now, tilting her chin high and jabbing her finger against his chest. “But you want to see us that way. That’s how you cope! If everyone else is just their respective archetype, then you don’t have to acknowledge that we’re all people trapped in a cartoon world.”
“You’re so insistent on being the funny one, because then—you’d get to stay the one-dimensional guy with no sad backstory. No depth. No pain. No controversy in our “friend group”. Just safe. But deep down… you know what your real archetype is.”
Jax’s brows pulled tight. He shoved her hand away, scowling. “Oh yeah? If I’m not the funny one, who the h*ll do you think I am? The a**hole? The jerk? Or like you said earlier—the villain? Am I the antagonist in whatever fairytale you’re cooking up now?”
Pomni scoffed, “Pft! With that cringe speech ealier?—I cause pain for fun! I get joy from suffering!” She says in a purposely mocking tone, before dropping her face back down to seriousness. “No. Not even close. When I look at you, you don’t look evil—you just look pathetic.”
Her tone hardened, her gaze pinning him. “You know what you are, Jax? You’re the troubled one.”
The words hit.
Jax flinched, ears flattening, before snapping back with anger. “Excuse me? The troubled one?”
Pomni stomped a foot, voice rising. “Yeah! The troubled one. The broken one. The sad, tragic little bully!”
Jax stammered, his face scrunching with offense. He tried to collect himself but all he could spit back was, “No. I’m not!”
“Yes. You are!” Pomni fired back in the same heated tone. “And you know you are! But you don’t want to admit it—because you know no one likes a tragic bully!”
She advanced on him. Jax instinctively stepped back, ears dropping, but she didn’t slow down.
“Whether you like it or not,” she pressed, her voice sharp with conviction, “you ARE a misunderstood little chicken fetus in an egg that needs to be cracked open—and you hate it! You’d rather rot in that shell than risk someone breaking it. Because if you open up, then you’ll have to face the truth—you’re the misunderstood a**hole. And a**holes like that don’t get forgiveness. Not after all the sh*t they’ve done to the people they hurt.”
Jax’s back hit a wall. He froze, realizing he’d run out of space. Pomni didn’t stop. She jabbed a finger upward at him, her words rapid and merciless.
“You don’t want to open up because you already know what you’ll hear: ‘I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but I can’t forgive you after everything.’ Or, ‘I understand your pain, but that’s not an excuse for projecting it on us.’ And even if—even if—you’re forgiven one day, you already know you don’t deserve it! You don't want to face the consequences or feel guilty, so you’d rather push everyone away before they can prove you right!”
Jax shook his head violently, as if her voice was something he could rattle loose. His hands curled into fists before he leaned down, yelling straight into her face. “Well if that’s what you think I am, then why the h*ll are you still here!? If I’m irredeemable and don’t deserve d*mn pity—then why the f*ck are you still bothering with me!? Why not just jump on the Ignore-the-Jerk train with everyone else!?”
“Because that’s what you want me to do!” Pomni yelled back, standing her ground despite the heat of his breath on her face. She didn’t flinch.
“You want me to give up, because you don’t want me dealing with your crap! You’re pushing me away because the last thing you want is for me to ‘take responsibility’ for your struggles. You think that makes you pathetic. You think it’s the worst part of being tragic—letting someone help you when you know you’ve done nothing to earn it!”
Jax bared his teeth, snarling. “So what, huh? You’re just gonna stick around and do the exact opposite out of spite? You’re gonna ‘take responsibility in cracking me the f*ck open’ because you think I don’t want you to!?”
Pomni didn’t hesitate. Her voice dropped low, steady, and deadly certain. “You know what…? Yes. Yes, I am. And yes, I f*cking will.”
Jax’s face dropped. Though his ‘avatar’ could separate its teeth, for some reason it didn’t, despite obviously looking at Pomni with his jaw dropped open incredulously.
Pomni took a deep breath, before continuing, “Before this game started, you told me I’m the only one who hasn’t decided on what I wanted to be yet…. Well, now I know what I want to be… the hero.”
Jax was able to collect his jaw, in time to confirm Pomni's ridiculous claim. “The hero??”
“Yeah. Exactly…. I’m gonna be the hero.” Pomni said more firmly. “There’s no one labeled the heroic one in your list yet, right?”
The rabbit didn't answer for a solid 2 seconds, but eventually tried ridiculing the jester’s choice of role and scoffing, “So you're just gonna be Ragatha 2.0 now? Carrying all the sh*t and hope you get something from me in return?”
“First off, don’t bring Ragatha or anyone else into this. I don’t know why you think she’s “taking advantage” of you or whatever, but this is between you and me. Second, a hero doesn’t save all, they save who they can and who needs it most. Everyone has somebody. You're the only one who doesn’t. So I’ll be here. Because I want to, and because no one else will be….” Pomni says, aware the last part was harsh. But they both knew it was true. Then she finishes with, “I’m gonna save you. Whether you like it or not.”
“Ah, the ‘I can fix him’ mindset.” Jax rolled his eyes. “Print it on a shirt and stick my picture on it, why don't you?”
“Oh, for crying out loud…” Pomni groaned, rolling her eyes right back.
Silence stretched between them.
Jax studied her with a mix of irritation, doubt, and something unreadable before finally asking, “You really think you can fit into the hero role, Pompom?”
Pomni gave a small laugh. “I mean… isn’t that already a classic trope? A regular person with a normal life suddenly forced into heroic responsibilities? I think I can manage.” She reached for his hand. Jax twitched and pulled it away at first, but then—hesitantly—let her hold it. “Besides… I did say I like to seek out mild thrills. Maybe handling a closet-edgelord is the biggest thrill I could give myself.”
Jax spluttered, ears shooting back. “Wh—th–eh—Closet-edgelord!?”
Pomni ignored his outburst, squeezing his hand. “And for the record, there’s nothing for me to fix. You haven’t fallen apart yet. I’ll save you before you do. Before you make yourself worse.”
Her grip was gentle, steady. Jax stared at their joined hands for a moment before sharply yanking his arm back.
And yet… he didn’t shove her aside. Instead, he stepped carefully around her, heading for the exit.
He made it a few steps before halting. Slowly, he turned back. Pomni was still watching him, her expression unwavering.
His voice came out quieter this time. “…What if being the hero doesn’t turn out to be for you?”
Pomni’s lips curved into a confident, almost tender smile. “Then we’ll just have to wait and see… But like I said— I’ve been through worse.”
Jax’s mouth twitched, caught somewhere between a smile and a grimace. He turned away again, finally continuing on his path.
He didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing for her. He didn’t want her to be the f*cking hero. But she clearly didn’t give a d*mn.
Christ… Was Pomni gonna be the karma everyone had been praying would finally catch up to him?
One thing was certain—he was going to feel her in his space far more than he’d ever invaded anyone else’s.