Ringmaster Rollo stood in the center of the empty tent and grinned his wide, painted smile. The fabric walls sagged. The wooden benches needed repair. But this was his Chaos Theater, and he would make it famous. He needed performers—strange ones, frightening ones, the kind that made people gasp and whisper. Creatures from the darkest corners of Fungara would fill these seats. His dream burned bright as the torches at his sides. Morning arrived with gray skies and the smell of damp earth. Rollo marched into the town square, his firework cane tucked under one arm. He found an empty platform near the market stalls and climbed onto it. The wood creaked under his weight. He raised the cane high and struck it against the platform three times. The sharp crack echoed across the square. Heads turned. People stopped walking. Rollo's grin widened as a crowd began to form. This was how he would find them—the strange performers who would make his theater a legend. He would watch them audition right here, in front of everyone. The best ones would come home with him. The Chaos Theater's future began now. The first performer shuffled forward—a thin man who juggled dead birds. Rollo watched the gray bodies flip through the air. The crowd gasped and backed away. Good. Fear was what he wanted. Next came a woman who ate glass and smiled with bloody teeth. Then a boy who could bend his bones in wrong directions. Rollo pointed his cane at each one and nodded. They would do. Behind him, he heard a strange sound—a low growl mixed with clicking. He turned and saw a cage on wheels, pulled by two workers. The circus-themed metal gleamed with dark colors and bright strips. Inside, something moved. Something with too many eyes. Rollo's painted face couldn't hide his real smile now. This creature would be perfect. He walked to the cage and pressed his face close to the bars. The creature inside had fur like moss and teeth like broken stones. It clicked and hissed at him. Rollo tapped his cane against the metal. The sound made the creature freeze. He turned to the workers and pointed back toward his tent. They nodded and began pulling the cage away from the square. The three performers he'd chosen followed behind. Rollo looked at his theater in the distance—the sagging fabric, the crooked poles. Soon it would be filled with screams and laughter. Soon people would travel from across Fungara just to see what horrors he'd collected. His dream was taking shape, one strange act at a time.