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angelofrainfrogs · 9 months

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Spend the Night: Ch. 19

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

I'm unstoppable, obstacles are impossible I don't know what you're bound to do But I'm going to hunt you down! Maybe I'm different, I never fit in Don't get it twisted, you're stuck with a misfit Don't you doubt, I'll rip your heart right out! Don't get it twisted, you're stuck with a misfit

~Misfit by Rockit Music~

“Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT—”

Michael’s frightened chanting seemed like it would never end. He was absolutely scared shitless.

Never again did he think he’d encounter the creature that took over his body for the better part of a week. He knew Ennard wasn’t dead; it simply got tired of toting around a rotting sack of meat and evacuated itself into the sewers, leaving Michael a hollowed-out husk of a man—literally and figuratively. The creature had been lured to Henry's faux diner like the rest of the outcast animatronics, and Mike thought after sending Ennard up in flames that'd be the end of it. To see this thing now, looming over Charlie’s shoulder and just as terrifying as it’d looked through that dirty, cracked window of the Scooping Room was almost too much for Michael’s strained psyche to bear.

Wait—Charlie!

Suddenly, she and Mike were no longer androids—they were squishy humans with very easy-to-remove insides, and Michael knew with every fiber of his being that Ennard was about to scoop his best friend too if he didn’t do something about it.

“You get the FUCK away from us!” Michael hissed, grabbing Charlie by the arm and pulling her behind him. He stared into that horrific clown mask, trying to control his trembling. He couldn’t afford to look weak in front of this thing ever again.

Charlie watched as Ennard raised an asymmetrical hand. It looked as if they wanted to reach out and touch her. Momentarily, Charlie was inclined to let them. Her own faux-fleshy mitt rose to meet the tangle of wires, though it would never make contact—she flinched slightly as Michael quickly shoved her protectively around his back.

“ENNARD… S… SORRY… MIKE…,” the amalgamation attempted to say. Their vocal fry and high feedback had only become worse by the year. Ennard ceased their advancement, yet those paralyzing and buggy eyes still stared unflinchingly at Michael.

It was hard to tell what thoughts were behind that smiling mask. The endoskeleton’s expression was similar to Puppet’s, unreadable and cryptic. Though every now and then, a ripple of controlled flexing would occur, the four panels on their face recalibrating while in thought.

“WE WANT TO—O HELP… MIKE IS FRIEND…”

Charlie held fast to Michael’s shirt, peering around in an alarmed way.

“Michael, please—what the hell’s going on?!” she demanded to know, watching as the unstable animatronic twitch and spasm before them. In her hazy memories Charlie had only seen glimpses of the amalgamation, always twisted in some new configuration as it slunk through the vents. She’d never had the opportunity to witness them standing in all their glory.

“FRIEND?!” Michael’s voice shrieked in a fever pitch, causing Charlie and Ennard to flinch away from him in unison. The man tried to settle, taking a few deep, unneeded breaths.

“You sure have a funny way of showing ‘friendship,’ buddy…,” Michael snapped, his tone still rife with anxiety but not nearly as loud. He refused to look away as he answered Charlie’s question, though he reached one arm behind to pat her side, as if reassuring himself that she was still free of any gaping wounds.

“Ennard is clearly very fucking confused,” he said, not liking the way the thing perked up as Michael spoke its name. Addressing the creature directly, Mike continued with narrowed eyes and a voice dripping with scathing hurt and anger. “Forgive me for not trusting you implicitly—the last time I did that, you ripped my insides out and wore my body as a meat suit for days on end. I’m not sure if you realized, but that was not a fun time for me!”

Hopefully Charlie would connect the dots and realize how exactly Michael knew this sentient mass of wires without him having to go into more detail.

Ennard scrunched up their tendril-like body. They wanted to appear smaller, more docile to him. Though it didn’t seem to work as Michael had only grown in not only fear, but now strife and rage.

As usual for one with such an amalgamated personality, Ennard was torn on what to do. They wanted to lift Mikey up, squeeze him until a few ribs cracked. When he would be in too much pain to move, then they'd sit the old-but-young-looking technician down and tell him how sorry they were.

Only… that would probably hurt him. Again. Ennard seemed to vibrate as they went through a myriad of solutions.

“WE KNOW… SHORTCUT… RABBIT MAN’S… HOUSE,” they growled in a strange, low tone.

Charlie was uncomfortable with Ennard and their familiarity from living inside of her best friend—the one who’s body they destroyed simply for a place to hide. She was just as sickened in this moment as when she’d drawn those lines for the first time shortly before the fire in Henry’s faux diner. It explained many things in Michael’s later life, and Charlie hadn’t even been given the chance to help Mike process before the flames began licking at their heels.

Her hand fisted into Michael’s shirt, unwilling to allow him to protect her when it was clear Ennard was more interested in him.

“That’s okay, Ennard!” she said, attempting to use a honey sweet tone to get past the hulking blob. “We have to stop and talk to our friends before finding William… So… You can totally go away now!”

With an incline of their head Ennard seemed to understand, but leaned in a bit closer to Michael in a sudden, jerking manner.

“WE WILL FOLLOW… MIKE WON’T SEE US… ACCORDING TO PLAN…,” they said, letting him know where they’d be hiding out in an effort to be… polite?

Who knew? Charlie only found it extra unnerving.

When Ennard reeled back its body shape changed, cracking and twisting now to cling to the walls. Ennard became more of a writhing mass of pipes and wires with a clown mask as it slipped into a vent directly above them. Charlie covered her mouth, wide-eyed as they disappeared from sight instantaneously.

“Goodie…,” she grunted after them, feeling somewhat queasy.

“And this is exactly why I didn’t want you and Gregory crawling in the vents yesterday!” Michael exclaimed, on an adrenaline high from the encounter despite the only thing close to hormones in his body being oil and grease. That thought in itself strangely worked to calm him down, lessening the dual feeling of wanting to throw up and sob uncontrollably at the same time.

Michael’s current body didn’t have any organs to remove—nor did Charlie’s. The only living humans to worry about were Vanessa and Gregory, neither of which deserved what Michael went through.

No one did… except for maybe William.

Looking towards the vent, Michael cupped his hands over his mouth and called out: “You’d better stay out of sight and do not go near any humans! If I see you so much as look at anyone funny, I’m going to rip you apart with my bare hands—I mean it!”

Where was this confidence a few years ago? Michael mused, then realized the circumstances were completely different. Besides, he knew this was really the fear talking. He’d surely devolve into a cowering mess if Ennard snuck up behind him for a friendly surprise, non-lethal or otherwise.

“You okay?” Michael asked, turning to Charlie and giving her a visual once-over. “They didn’t… touch you, did they?”

Charlie stood, resting a palm over her stomach subconsciously. Even if Ennard hadn’t made contact, the way they snaked around things didn't help the odd and foreign feeling of Charlie's skin crawling.

“No—I'm good. Are you good?” she pivoted back. Whatever use Ennard got from wearing Mike's skin no longer interested them, and now it seemed like they wanted to be nothing but chummy with their former victim. Slowly, Charlie urged Michael forward, guiding him by the elbow as they made their way to the surface once more.

She knew her friend had to go through hell to hate someone that way. Anyone who knew Michael understood that after he'd calmed down as a teenager, he only saved that deep-seated rage for things he absolutely despised. The sound of the vents above them denting and banging around loudly didn't exactly help soothing either of their nerves.

Michael hesitated a long time before answering, though he allowed Charlie to tug him along despite his mental block.

“I just… never thought I’d see that thing again,” he stuttered out eventually. “I-I mean, I helped trap them in the old diner, which is clearly why they’re still here, but… I did my damndest to avoid them like the plague during my few short days of employment.”

A full-body shiver wracked Mike’s frame and he wrapped his arms around himself, unintentionally pulling Charlie closer as she still held his elbow. He wasn’t going to complain about her comforting presence, though.

“I can’t believe they think of me as a friend…,” Michael groaned, eyes lifted high to the ceiling as the banging continued. “Oh for fuck’s sake—there’s no way we’re listening to that all night. We’re supposed to be stealthy when we get up top!”

He shouted these last words in the vain hope Ennard would get the hint and leave them alone, at least when they reached the surface. The last thing they needed was the creature popping out of a vent at the worst moment and blowing their cover…

“S... SORRY-Y-Y.” Ennard's distant voice echoed inside the vents, apparently willing to listen to Michael somewhat. It would be endearing were it not for the dreadful way Ennard had treated the man during their first encounter decades prior.

No, he didn't die. Though some would consider what Michael went through a fate worse than death. The pain and social stigma of being a literal rotting corpse was something Charlie didn't ever want to know.

“Try to just ignore it, Michael,” she murmured, giving his arm a squeeze. “We're both going to be okay; just keep moving...”

If not for the odd sense of nausea that came over her, Charlie might be finding it hard not to laugh with delirium. Not at Michael's fear, no—but at the strange obsession Ennard had for him, even after all this time.

Mike nodded, placing a hand on top of Charlie’s to return the squeeze. He remained silent as they wound their way through the basement, only startling once when Ennard popped its freaky clown mask out of a vent to say they were heading the wrong way. After that there were no further incidents, although they did pass a closed door that Charlie and Michael swore they heard more metallic clinking behind… But there was no more time to linger. They needed to get out of that place and rejoin Freddy and Gregory.

Plus, Michael couldn’t take any more surprises at the moment.

Eventually, they emerged in a large storage pantry behind the kitchen. They carefully made their way towards the elevator that would take them up to the main atrium, looking around for their friends as they did so.

“If they’re not here, they’re probably in that security office,” Michael murmured. “It’s the safest place we’ve found so far, and I’m sure Freddy’s beside himself and wants to keep Gregory extra safe. I just know he’s pissed at me for my little stunt with the compactor.” He laughed softly, a smile finally returning to his face. “He really is a perfect dad for that kid… Uncle Henry was thinking way ahead of his time, and he didn’t even know it.”

Charlie agreed, feeling comfortable enough to let Michael go once they reached the vibrant neon lights of the surface. Not that she was scared, Charlie lied to herself. Someone had to look out for Mike, and no one else was going to get him to move.

“Dude, we got so lucky! I'm just glad Dad has an overactive mind and a lot of spare time,” Charlie remarked, allowing a smile to pull at the corners of her lips at the serendipity of it all.

One of the good things about walking around as an adult human, she mused: Roxy and Moon would be less likely to attack. Their main targets were a bear, a child, a fox, and a puppet. No one would be paying that much attention to some normal-looking twenty-year-olds. They’d probably just be clocked as normal trespassers—which might be a problem in itself, but one they could worry about when it came up.

“Might be easier to sneak through the backrooms,” Charlie suggested, taking a left at an access door. The noticeable banging from inside the vents had slowly left them, but Charlie had a nagging suspicion that Ennard was still following. Maybe just in a more discreet way.

“Ah shit,” Charlie realized as they traversed the halls. “They're not going to recognize us! Plus, we left the Fazblaster with Henry...” She groaned, realizing this might take more time to convince Freddy and Gregory that the pair weren't simple tricks.

“Oh, damn it.” Michael echoed her sentiment, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “If only we had some of those handy Fazwatches… then we could just call Freddy and fill him in.”

He glanced down at his wrist, examining it closely—in the comparatively brighter light of the main level, he could see all the finer details Henry had added, like subtle veins and the occasional freckle here and there where they’d smattered Michael’s arms. Honestly, he wondered if people would actually think they were real humans at first glance. Michael knew that he sure would as an outside observer.

But on the flip side, as Charlie pointed out Freddy and Gregory would likely be wary. As they approached one of the security office doors, Michael located the camera and waved with a cheery smile.

“Well, hopefully they’ll recognize our voices at least,” Michael said, lowering his hand into a fist poised to knock. He shot Charlie a slightly-nervous glance as he rapped on the metal. “Hey, Freddy and Gregory? You in there? It’s Mike and Charlie—we’re alright!”

First they only met with the sound of ventilation running, nothing to answer them but the sounds of the Pizzaplex around them. Then there was a very aggressive shout from a slightly-cracking child’s voice.

“What's the password?!”

“Password?” Charlie questioned, looking to Michael. “I-I don't remember a password...”

When the security door opened, Gregory was standing there, laughing with eyes closed. “There's no password, I was just—”

Upon opening those large hazel eyes, Gregory was shocked into silence. First he looked to Michael, then back to Charlie, then at Michael—alternating between the pair as he floundered for rational thought. Unable to come to a good conclusion, he called for Freddy with uncertainty in his voice.

“Daaad? Mike and Charlie are possessing people...”

Normally, Gregory would never snitch. But he drew the line at possession. While it was a cool concept, people needed their own bodies, and Gregory hated to think of what these unfortunate souls were going through with ghosts hitching a ride in their brains—if they even realized it was happening…

Blinking, Charlie waved her hands defensively. “No, we are not!”

“We aren't!” Michael insisted as Freddy quickly approached. “It's a long story, but these are our bodies! Kind of... they're still robots, but they were made for us, specifically. Pretty cool, huh?”

For a moment, Freddy simply stared at them. No, not them—his gaze was transfixed on Michael, eyes narrowed as he placed a protective hand on Gregory's shoulder. His facial recognition didn't activate for Charlie, but it sure did for “Michael”...

Or, as Freddy's database told him: William Afton.

However... the boy's voice was the same as the one in Freddy's head not 48 hours prior. The more he looked over this "human," the more Freddy realized he was much too young to be William—even if he'd been preserved at the age he'd gone missing, William still had a good few decades on the youthful face staring up at him. A face that was quickly falling with recognition as Freddy remained silent.

Michael knew that look all too well.

“No, I'm not—it's me, Freddy!” His tone was a bit desperate, needing the bear to believe he wasn't his father. “It's—”

“Michael! I am glad you and Charlie are back safe and sound!” Freddy finally piped up, removing his hand from Gregory's shoulder and holding his arms out for a hug instead. With a relieved sigh, Mike gladly fell into the embrace.

That standoff was nerve-wracking. Charlie let out simulated sigh, tucking herself in beside her old friend for the comfort of Freddy. As she placed her ear against the bear’s chest, Charlie could hear a beeping. It sounded like the volume had been turned down on a car alarm... After cohabiting inside the Puppet’s body for so long, it was easy for her to recognize it as the automated criminal database system, severely toned down from what it had been in the nineties.

Charlie bit her lip. Poor Michael...

At least Freddy had self-awareness. Coupled with his ability to think logically, he was quick to realize Mike was innocent in all of this.

Off to the side, in an odd change from his usual demeanor, Gregory was simply staring at them.

“Gregory? What's wrong?” Charlie asked upon pulling from Freddy's hug.

The boy shook his head. He’d been only interacting with animatronics this whole time, and hyper-realistic forms made Gregory uncertain. Yes—they were his friends. He knew that. But now they were human, and in a strange way foreign to him.

“I-I'm good on hugs for now!” he said, a strange anxiety building in his chest.

“Oh... hey, I'm sorry we couldn't give you a heads-up about this,” Michael apologized, taking a guess as to what the problem was. He might not be able to read Gregory's mind, but it was clear the kid was unnerved by their new bodies. It made sense, though—just from the small amount of information they knew of his backstory, the humans in Gregory's life hadn't been the best, especially older ones that were supposed to care for him. Michael could certainly relate to that.

Crouching down, Mike didn't offer a hug but simply rested his arms on his knees. Subconsciously, he was amazed at the lack of creaking in his joints, the movements fluid and smooth as if he were made of flesh and bone, not wire and metal. Now closer to Gregory's eye level and hopefully less intimidating, he gave the boy a grin. “I'm also sorry I don't have that cool pirate aesthetic going on anymore. I'm sure I can still find an eyepatch and hook around this place, though—the hook might be plastic, but hey... it's better than nothing, right?”

Mike and Charlie weren't scary in the slightest. So why did Gregory feel like he wanted to run away?

He looked at Michael, subconsciously embracing himself for comfort. There was nothing wrong exactly. He needed to get a damn grip. Unwilling to hurt his friend's feelings, Gregory closed the distance and gave Michael a hug.

“It's okay...,” he decided, squeezing Mike around the shoulders. “We can always shave a cool mohawk into your head.”

This made Charlie cover her mouth to hide her laughter, before glancing to Freddy. Lowering her hand, she tried to put his mind at ease with a smile. “Anyway—we’re supposedly still as strong as our old bodies. Don't worry about us not being able to defend ourselves.”

“That is good to know,” Freddy replied with audible relief. He could already tell the pair were happier in these forms than they'd been in the Fazbear Entertainment mascots, but it was worrying to see them looking so comparatively frail. Freddy tilted his head questioningly. “How exactly did you find these, might I ask?”

“Well... long story short: Charlie's dad,” Michael said, standing back up and ruffling Gregory's hair as he did so. Since the boy didn't flinch away, he knew they were on good terms once again. “His spirit’s lingering in the Pizzaplex like ours, waiting to get revenge on William. The trash chute ended up leading us to a sort of... hide-out, I guess? It's where he and the others are, anyway.”

Or were, Michael thought, his eyes briefly snapping to a vent covering in the floor. If he saw even the sliver of a wire poke through, he was going to stomp on it without abandon. He seemed to lose steam in his retelling as he focused on the vent, leaving Freddy and Gregory to look at Charlie for the missing information.

As if summoned by the thought alone, a thin wire wiggled through the slats, tantalizing and luring Michael closer.

“Yeah! We found my pops in the garbage chute,” Charlie continued, earning a timid laugh from Gregory the boy acclimated to their new appearances. “Speaking of others, we found—or, sorry, one of Michael's old, uh… co-workers found us.”

Charlie gestured to the grate on the floor, watching as Michael begun to stomp and kick at the various mechanical eyes that popped through the grating.

“MIKEY!” the high-frequency voice gushed, happy that the man was paying attention to them. It felt like bonding, after all; they didn't see Michael trying to stomp anyone else in the room! The little wires were too quick to be severely damaged by his shoe falls, and Gregory watched in utter confusion.

“Will you just. Fucking. Go—”

“Michael!” Freddy exclaimed, covering Gregory's ears even though it was already too late. Mike and the wires froze at his tone, both of them seeming a bit embarrassed. With a sigh, Freddy gently reminded: “There is a child in our presence; let us keep the language to a minimum when possible, please?”

Michael didn't feel the need to point out that he'd already heard Gregory curse multiple times, and the boy likewise. He flashed them an apologetic smile, then yelped and quickly stomped down as he felt a tendril wrap around his ankle. He actually managed to catch a wire under his shoe this time, though of course Ennard didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Still, it was a small victory to Michael, and he moved away from the vent with a satisfied smile.

“They were more of a bad, bad roommate,” Mike elaborated, his expression slipping into one more serious as the anxiety peeked through just a little bit. “For real though, please stay away from them—if you hear that voice, just ignore it. Also... stay out of the vents.”

Gregory had flinched when Freddy raised his voice. It was rare to hear him scold people in such a way. Maybe with Michael’s increased confidence, he’d been cursing with Charlie. Gregory had caught a glimpse of the thing harassing Mike from the vents and watched on with a supremely concerned gaze. It seemed that every time Michael came back after being separated from the group, he would return with some new oddity.

“What does it want...?” Gregory decided to ask. Charlie, who seemed to bear a naturally upturned smile in her true body, merely shrugged.

“That’s the fun part—we don’t know. I think they totally like Mikey, though,” she remarked, the light jab at Michael’s expense successfully making Gregory snicker.

“I’ll stay away from the vents,” Gregory agreed, his laugh cut short as a wired eyeball stuck out from the darkness to observe him and Charlie’s interaction curiously.

“Thank you,” Michael said, glaring at Charlie for her comment. “They don’t like me, they’re just... weirdly obsessed.” He let out a tired sigh, shoulders sinking low as the tension in his body released somewhat.

“Whatever. The only not-horrible thing about Ennard—that's what they call themselves, by the way—is that they apparently know a secret way to William's hideout.” Michael spared a glance at the vent, resisting the sudden, violent urge to kick that eyeball across the room. “So whenever we're ready, I guarantee they'll be ready to help.”

“Well, ah... thank you in advance, Ennard,” Freddy said, for once sounding a bit awkward. He didn't know what to make of this creature either, and despite Charlie's joking statements Michael clearly hated the thing with a passion. Although, Freddy had a feeling the story of why was best reserved for when Gregory wasn't listening.

“THE SHORTCUT… IS THROUGH THIS VENT…,” Ennard informed them, perhaps purposefully contradicting Michael’s request to Gregory.

“—Is there a faster way?” Charlie asked patiently. Ennard responded with a low-pitched whine, wiggling a few wires in protest.

“NOOOO… VENT… ONLY WAY…WE LEAVE THE VENT. MIKE AND FRIENDS GO… VENT.” It sounded like they were trying to work out a compromise.

When Gregory saw the clown mask press against the grate, he waved at it—experimentally checking if this Ennard was cool. In response, Ennard pinched their nose, producing a soft honking sound that made Gregory just a teensy bit less scared of them. Despite their weirdness and Michael’s obvious hatred of the thing, at least they weren’t trying to rip Gregory’s face off like most of the other robots he’d met so far.

...

...Oh hell no—this thing wasn't about to bond with Michael's new pseudo-brother! Swiftly stepping between Gregory and the vent, Mike looked down at the clown face. “We'll keep looking for another way, but if that's our only option... we'll consider it.”

There was a moment of silence, save for the shifting and clinking of metal as Ennard once again tried to grasp at Michael's ankles until the man moved away with a final, solid stomp that shook the floor. His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at his feet—it seemed Henry had been right about their hidden strength. A moment later, Freddy spoke up in a hesitant tone.

“So, is Chica... taken care of?” His face was set, though the regret in his eyes was clear. Freddy was so glad he hadn't gotten a glimpse of her mangled body as she went down the chute—he'd only caught Charlie's hand slipping down as well, prompted to look by her terrified scream and Michael's subsequent dash to her rescue.

“It’s done,” Charlie said, relaxing by setting herself down into an office chair. She wheeled around, carefully omitting the part where she had to finish Chica off inside the vents and on the ground below when the bird suddenly tried to tear her arm off in a fit of confused rage. It wouldn’t be right to say such a thing in front of Freddy.

“You all didn’t see anything up here?” she asked to make sure, and Gregory shook his head.

“Nope; we’ve been in here just waiting for you guys to come back,” he replied, glancing away from where Michael looked about ready to murder the robot under his feet. Ennard must have been a really bad roommate… A hopeful smile grew on Gregory��s face as he clasped his hands together. “That means we can take out Roxy now, right?”

“Right,” Freddy agreed with a nod. He just had to keep telling himself that his friends would be repaired soon. They'd be back to themselves, and hopefully their virus-induced amnesia would last just enough for them to not remember how Freddy, a small child, and various haunted animatronics decommissioned them until they could no longer move.

“So... where do you think Roxy would be?” Michael asked, striding up to a row of computer monitors and looking at the feeds. “Doesn't she have a raceway or something...?”

“Yes, and she spends most of her time there,” Freddy added, looking around until he found one camera feed pointed into the raceway. It was a view from high up in a corner so it was hard to make out many details, but if they looked close enough they could just barely see a twitching shape stalking the track. Freddy pointed to the figure with a blue claw. “There she is.”

Roxy seemed to be in dire straits, slapping herself periodically to hype herself up. She'd looked everywhere again and still couldn’t manage to find the kid. She was pacing for a bit as they watched her. Then, in a burst of anger she howled to the ceiling before kicking a defenseless wet floor bot.

Gregory pulled a face at Roxy’s behavior. Though certainly with them all together, they could take her on. In a way, Gregory had to have his friends get him motivated, as their encounters with the robots became increasingly more violent with each sighting.

“Okay, to Roxy Raceway! And if we have time afterwards, we’ll do some go-karting,” Gregory said with certainty, as if the last part was set in stone.

“Hmm... I believe you will need to ride with a driver assist bot, superstar,” Freddy commented as the group shuffled for the door. When Gregory made a face at him, the bear clarified: “There is a height limit for single riders, and you fall a few inches short.”

“Wow... good to know there's some safety precautions around this place,” Michael muttered in a voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets, a gesture that came naturally to him now that he had his new body.

To his mild relief, Ennard had scuttled off and could no longer be heard shifting underneath the floor, although Mike knew the creature wouldn't be far behind. Hell, maybe if they were lucky, Ennard would go after Roxy and try to use her outer suit for their own... That'd sure save them a lot of time and effort. Michael snickered to himself at the thought, and when Charlie raised an eyebrow he simply shook his head.

Upon seeing Mike clearly musing something over, Charlie mouthed a quick, “Okay weirdo,” in a playful manner. Her own feelings were becoming easier to read with her now expression-packed face.

Learning that he’d need to use an assist driver, Gregory stood tall and puffed out his chest.

“Are you calling me short?” he asked with the confidence of a fully grown man. Charlie belted out a laugh—not at him, but rather at the way he said it. So accusatory, not really hurt but almost as if he didn't believe them when they told him he couldn't drive by himself.

“Charlie! I can drive on my own, I swear!” he snapped defensively. Charlie's hand went out, able to rake through his hair better.

“No,” she replied with a smile on her face. No explanation; just no.

Though Gregory let out a short whine, this time he’d have to relent. The decision was unanimous by the family it seemed.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” Mike said amiably, patting the kid's back with a grin. “Talk to me in a few years, and I'll show you how to drive a real car—how's that?” He then paused in his tracks, blinking a few times as a realization hit him. “Oh... I guess I'm the only one around here that can legally drive, huh?”

“I do not think this is a conversation we need to be having right now,” Freddy said, though his chuckle showed no real annoyance with the whole thing. He simply didn't want the boys to get lost in another tangent, especially as Gregory seemed to perk up at the thought of driving something more than a mere racecar. Freddy smiled down at his son, relenting: “Alright, if we have time, you can do one lap around the track—but you must have Michael go with you, if not a driver assist bot.”

Was this the best idea?

...Probably not. But would the pair enjoy the experience? Unquestionably yes. Besides, Freddy trusted Michael in his new—but still robotic—vessel to protect Gregory, and there were safety precautions such as barriers set up to avoid harsh crashes.

Well... at least there used to be. Who knew what state the racetrack was in now that Roxy had been rampaging through it the past few nights? Freddy would have to make a final decision on whether his son could cruise around after they took care of the wolf.

The conversation reminded Charlie to ask when the kid's birthday was exactly. After all, when he turned 16 it was probably in his best interest to learn how to drive from Michael. In fact, all of them should probably learn to work a car at some point.

When Gregory brightened up at this, he seemed more energetic than before. Going to Michael's side, Gregory pulled at the hem of his shirt.

“We're totally going to kick their butts on the racetrack,” Gregory remarked with natural confidence. It awakened a healthy competitiveness in Charlie that she forgot existed. Moving hair from her face, she rolled her eyes.

“We'll see after we put Roxy to bed, dingus,” she quipped without malice, but rather to keep Gregory in this high spirit mood.

As they neared closer to the end game, she wanted to make sure that her little brother was going to be alright emotionally. Lord knew how much therapy this kid was going to need after all this was said and done. Pushing out of her chair, she went and waited for them all by the door, ready to embark on their next adventure.

“Heck yeah we will!” Michael readily agreed, holding out a hand for Gregory to high-five. Once this ritual was completed they followed Charlie, Freddy bringing up the rear so he could keep watch in front of and behind them.

“Stay close together,” the bear murmured, his parental instincts kicking in to the extreme at the sudden increase of danger. He knew no one wanted to part from the group, especially after their last experience, but he needed to say it all the same. Altogether, they stepped out of the security office and started for the raceway.

As they filed out into the Pizzaplex, Charlie grasped onto Gregory's hand to keep track of the boy more easily. He seemed even more distracted now. When Freddy insisted they wait back at the security room after their impromptu split, Gregory must have lost focus.

His hand slipped easily into her grip, amazed at how soft her skin was for a metal. Or maybe it was silicone? An extra-opaque ballistic gel? He looked from her towards Michael as they walked, and Gregory had questions.

“You guys have blood? Like, in you?” he wondered, as Charlie's hand felt warm to the touch.

Charlie raised a skeptical eyebrow, and being unsure of the real answer, volleyed the question right back. “I don't know; do you?”

This earned her a sarcastic no as they rolled into the main atrium once more.

On the other side of this long walk remained one person they seemed to have forgotten about the whole night. The only person capable of doing the late night shift had been doing her hourly rounds with a splitting headache.

Vanessa heard the telltale sign of an animatronic trying to sneak but failing to do so for the simple fact that they weigh hundreds of pounds, and that's going to make an impact with any sort of floor. Monty was still MIA, and now Chica was, too. Last she checked, Sun was still in the Daycare sitting under a floodlight, pouting from the fact that staff had tricked him into a dark room to let Moon out earlier that day. Nothing had happened, save for Moon getting a lecture at being dented and scratched, so Vanessa really didn't know what the guy was so freaked out about. That left only Roxy or Freddy as the culprit of who wandered the halls, and Vanessa had a suspicion of which one she was about to come face to face with.

“Freddy!” she shouted, rounding the corner and spotting the bright orange bear. “What the hell are you—”

She stopped, jaw slack as she took stock of the three people in front of him. There was that damn kid again—she knew he was real and not just a figment of her tired imagination!

But these others... they were new.

Vanessa raised her flashlight accusingly and shined it directly at them, shifting the light between the unfamiliar faces. “For god's sake, Freddy, where the hell do you keep picking up these people?! Who are you, and what are you doing here after hours?!”

Charlie raised her hand, shielding her now sensitive eyes from the light. Who does that? Shines a light into someone’s eyes before interrogating them? Charlie swallowed thickly upon realization of who stepped in their path. She felt Gregory's hands hug her waist, pressed into her like Vanessa threatened to take him away.

“She’s still trying to kidnap me, for sure!” he whisper-yelled in a frightened manner, potentially more scared of Vanessa than the murder-happy robots of the Pizzaplex. When the night guard demanded to know who they were, Charlie nudged Michael to follow her lead.

“Uh—what? You can't seriously be asking us that. Is she serious?” Charlie remarked, looking around to her friends as she finalized what she was going to say in her head. She already hated herself for sounding like such a spoiled brat, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Our dads' would be pretty upset knowing one of their employees was treating family like this!”

“Your dads?” Vanessa gave her a scathing look—clearly, this girl was just trying to lie her ass off. “Why the hell would I know who your dads are?”

“Charlie, please—” Michael held up a hand as Charlie opened her mouth to protest, then turned his attention to Vanessa. He wore a raised eyebrow look of offended contempt that only a certain brand of people could truly express, and Mike had learned it from the best. It made his skin crawl to look at someone like this, but that was nothing compared to the sick-to-the-stomach sensation he got from his next words. Amping his accent up to an even more pronounced Brighton lilt, he asked the guard: “Surely you recognize my face, don't you? My looks run in the family, so I've been told. As a security guard of Fazbear Entertainment, you must at least know who the important people are around here...”

“Why the hell would I recognize—oh.”

The realization of who she was looking at hit Vanessa like a truck. Though her hazy memory, she recalled some of the old training videos she'd watched waaaay back when she started working at a contracted company as a VR tester. They contained images of the Fazbear Entertainment founders, and now that she really looked at the man in front of her she knew exactly who he was—or who he was related to, at least.

“O-Oh my god, Mr... Mr. Afton, I-I'm so sorry! I didn't recognize you; I thought—” She frowned slightly. Hadn't the sole heir to the Afton line gone missing years ago? This twenty-something dude would have to be his son, then—grandson to the founder in her memory and appearing out of... where, exactly?

...It didn't really matter. What mattered was that an honest-to-god Afton was standing here in front of her, and Vanessa had already screamed at him and his guests. She cringed, waiting for the consequences. God, she hoped she wasn't about to be fired on the spot.

Charlie must’ve been a really bad liar or something. Everyone always seemed to pick her ruses apart easily. She cringed internally when Vanessa shot her a scathing look, but the dynamic quickly changed as Michael made that face. She could tell he was attempting to mimic his father with the dead-eyed frown he shot at her. It even made Charlie uncomfortable. Though, for sake of keeping up the façade, she placed what was meant to look like a placating hand on Mike's arm.

“She must not’ve known. Typical. Management's always sort of slow to get the word out.” Touching a hand to her chest in an attempt to seem more genuine, Charlie told Vanessa. “We're investigating this odd glitch in the latest operating system. Do you mind?”

As she spoke, Charlie pushed Gregory behind her, accidentally and subconsciously saying please do not ask about the child.

“N-No, I'm sorry, Ms. Emily,” Vanessa responded quickly, making the correct assumption that this must be an Emily, daughter of their current CEO. Sammy hadn’t ever mentioned having a kid, though… but Vanessa wasn't going to question it. As long as it meant keeping her job after this whole fiasco, she'd do anything they wanted. She was already on major thin ice as it was.

“Please, explore all you'd like,” Vanessa continued, hanging her head in deferment as she gestured for the group to move on. She had many questions about this whole situation, such as why the hell they were here during night shift toting around Glamrock Freddy and—

That kid! He was walking behind Charlie, clinging to her like she was his lifeline, and Vanessa couldn't help herself. She had to know at least one thing.

“Uh, excuse me,” she called, and the group stopped in their tracks to turn to her. She looked from the boy to the heirs, asking in a small voice: “I'm sorry if this is a weird question, but do you... know this kid? I-It's just, he was running around unsupervised last night, so I was worried and trying find him so I could contact his guardians...”

“He's my cousin; can't you see the family resemblance?” Michael responded flatly, that dead-eyed stare back in full force. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, though what he was annoyed about was anyone's guess. “He simply got too excited to visit and ran off on his own last night. We've already had a discussion about it, and he won't do it again; isn't that right, Gregory?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at Gregory, who caught on quickly to the act. He averted his eyes from both him and Vanessa before uttering a quick: “Sorry, security guard lady.”

Because genuinely, it did hurt to even have to pretend to apologize to her.

“Vanessa,” Charlie corrected, patting his hair. “You know kids!”

She laughed, allowing Vanessa some mental leeway. While Charlie and Michael pulled the wool over her eyes, Charlie thought of a plan. Curiously, she brought up Vanessa's arm being inside of a sling.

“Odd that they’d make you work with an injured arm like that. Right, Mike?” Charlie remarked, wondering if they could minimize damage by just telling Vanessa to clock out. “If you're unwell, we’d rather you use sick leave than hurt yourself further while on the job...”

Charlie did her best to sound like those ancient video work-place safety videos she'd constantly hear William and Henry record as a child. Gregory had gone back to clinging onto Charlie, staring up to Vanessa and for a good moment believing they could potentially trick her. As long as that weird, creepy Vanny persona didn’t come out, he’d spare a bit of hope.

“Oh, this? It's just a little sprain!” Vanessa insisted. It was a bit more than that, so the doctor had said, and she'd be in a cast for a little while until everything refused into its proper place—but she couldn't afford to look weak in front of arguably the most important people in the company besides the CEO himself. “I appreciate your concern, but I'll be alright.”

Ness attempted a reassuring smile, though it came out as more of a nervous, slightly pained grimace. “There's just a few more hours until my shift ends—and besides, I'm the only night guard, so if I leave then there won't be any security here for your protection.”

Michael longed to tell her that she would be protecting them much more if she simply went home. However, he didn't want to push his luck. He was already tired of this façade, the internal turmoil of pretending to be “just like his father” making his head hurt.

Could he get headaches in this body? He certainly felt like one was coming on...

“Alright, well, we request that you keep to light activities to avoid further stress—we'd hate for you to get hurt on company time, now wouldn't we?” He flashed her a shark-like grin, all teeth and no room for argument. Vanessa nodded quickly, and with a swift turn on his heel Michael led the group away from her once again. This time, she was happy to let them go.

The group passed Vanessa by, watching her tremble just a bit from Michael's all too familiar and manipulative grin. Upon seeing her move from their sight, Charlie squeezed his arm.

“I'm really sorry you had to do that, but if we ever get out of here, please pursue an acting career,” she told him, trying to lighten his mood after what was likely a soul-crushing act. Gregory had in turn nudged Charlie, snickering.

“You should never act again. Why are you so bad at lying?” the kid asked her bluntly, causing Charlie to look down at her feet as they quickly stalked for the backrooms again.

“Look, I was a good kid,” Charlie said, implying her terrible deception skills were due to a more wholesome upbringing. Also, somewhat of a lie—she could tell Gregory didn't buy that either. She was just bad at hiding the truth, especially now that she had a real face again.

Michael snorted at this, and to Gregory he said: “You're not so bad yourself—you did a good job playing the innocent little kid!”

He laughed at this, nudging Gregory's shoulder playfully. Then he realized there was someone in the group who'd been uncharacteristically silent, and he turned to look over his shoulder at the animatronic with a concerned frown. “Hey, Freddy, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am fine,” the bear responded with a smile, and to Michael's relief it was genuine. Realizing the others' worry, he clarified: “I am just sorry I could not help in that situation. You all were wonderful, though—and for the record, Michael, I think you could have an acting career ahead of you if you so choose!”

“Ugh, as long as I don't have to play anything remotely close to a stuck-up as—butthole, then maybe I'll consider it,” Michael replied, thankful he'd caught his curse in time. He flashed Gregory a smile and ruffled his hair. “Now, let's get this thing done—I've got to ride one of those racecars with you before the night's over.”

Charlie was positive that's all he would be type-casted as. Either that or a bond-villain. She could see either avenue making him bored.

After receiving affectionate head pats from Michael, Gregory told his ursine dad: “You did great, don't even worry!”

He knew Freddy wanted to help, but felt stuck. It was probably close to physically impossible for him to not lie to anyone, so deeply ingrained was the notion of truth in his programming.

Curving around the corners and ducking through shadowed supply rooms, the Raceway was in sight. The darkness of the corridor made Gregory fish for his flashlight and illuminate the way for the group. Gregory grew more excited as the smell of motor grease and burnt rubber invaded his nose.

“Should we make a plan before going inside?” Charlie dared to ask, pulling Gregory from his good mood once realizing they never actually formulated a plan to take Roxy down.

“Definitely,” Mike agreed, settling into the shadows with everyone else. He stared around hopefully, but upon meeting nothing but dead silence, he asked: “So... any ideas?”

“We will need to keep Gregory out of her sight—more so than the others',” Freddy pointed out, instinctively gripping the boy's shoulder to keep him close. “Roxy is fast when she wants to be, and if we are not careful she could catch him easily. Unfortunately she cannot be lured with food like Chica, but there must be something else we can do... something to distract her so that we can sneak up when she least expects it.”

Freddy tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd likely be the one to physically incapacitate her. It would hurt him deeply, just like taking down his other friends, but it was all worth it to protect his new family.

Charlie began rubbing her temples in thought. When her gaze landed on the boys, she paused. She seemed to be working something out, tongue pressing against her cheek in an old, familiar gesture. Before Gregory could ask Charlie what she was thinking about, she hushed him with a wave and asked Freddy:

“Do you think Roxy can run faster than a go-kart? Or... Maybe we could rig a cart to be even faster. Then use it to avoid Roxy before one of us can... You know.”

There was something about having a human body again that made her more animated—likely because it felt good to be in something so close to her own skin. Gregory watched every nervous movement, finding Charlie heaps more relatable now whenever she spoke.

Freddy tilted his head, blinking as he accessed information about the top speed of the Roxy Raceway go-karts, as well as the top speed of Roxanne Wolf’s gait at full sprint.

“The racecars are designed to move a few miles per hour faster than Roxy at maximum speed,” he announced, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to figure out Charlie's line of thought. “So you... wish to have her chase the go-kart?”

“Yeah... I mean, she's a hunter, right?” Michael postulated, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against a nearby wall. “Maybe the movement will catch her eye, and as she's chasing it down we can, I don't know—throw something at her to knock her down, then Freddy and I can get her?”

But what would be heavy enough to knock over a half-ton robot? Michael was onto something, he just didn't have all the pieces yet.

“We could spill oil onto the track?” Gregory hypothesized, scratching the side of his head in thought. “Then hope she slips on it!”

He sincerely hoped the way they were discussing Roxy's eventual decommissioning hadn't been bugging Freddy too badly. In light of this Gregory decided to lean on his ursine dad, supporting him with a loose side hug. Charlie furrowed her brows and bit her tongue.

“I don't know. She's got good eyesight. She'll see the oil slick on the raceway...” Charlie didn't want to completely throw Gregory’s suggestion out, though. It was a good back-up. “We'll do that as a last ditch effort.”

“If you three would like to start the go-kart and set it off on the track, I can distract Roxy,” Freddy suggested. Though he loathed the thought of not being physically near them, it’s not like they were truly splitting up—they’d still be in the same room, just on different sides of it.

“The starting line for the track is in the far corner from where we are about to enter,” Freddy went on to explain. “I could keep Roxy's attention so she stays on the opposite side of the attraction, thus giving you all more time to work. There should be a special switch within the control panel of the race cars that will allow you to set them to ‘test mode’—flip this, and the cars will run the track with only a driver assist bot. Once Roxy is thoroughly distracted, I can… incapacitate her.”

Gregory nodded his confirmation. After looking around the group, he was the first to open the doors and peek into the attraction. Quickly, he opened his watch to inspect the security feeds, checking around the blind spots just outside the entrance. Once he begun to slip past the doors Charlie held it open, motioning for the others to quickly follow through. With Freddy distracting the wolf, the plan should go accordingly.

Then again, when was the first time that happened in the past day and a half? This group made a habit of having their carefully thought-out plans derailed by a specific brand of weirdness.

Charlie followed Mike and Gregory to assist in turning the switches off on the cart control panels. Currently she was despising how much harder it’d become to sneak around with a standard-shaped body, realizing as they crouched together low in a group that she was going to miss the benefits of being a marionette in some ways.

As the trio snuck around, Freddy made a beeline for Roxy. She didn’t notice him at first, twitching and sniffing the air while emitting snarls of anger, but his bright wave soon caught her attention. The look she gave him made Freddy want to simultaneously grovel for her forgiveness for harming their friends, and run away before the wolf took revenge into her own claws.

“Hello, Roxy,” the bear said calmly, pushing past his newfound emotions and coming to a stop just out of striking range should Roxy snap. They were standing on a bridge overlooking the racetrack, part of which ran directly underneath their feet.

Roxy, for one solid moment, seemed to give Freddy a knowing stare. She stood, fists clenched at her side while trying to stay brave. She was still infected—it showed in the way she spoke, voice box strained as she resisted the personality overwrites in her code.

“Why’d you do it, Fred?” she asked, completely unaware what was happening on the raceway.

She had a feeling she knew why Freddy was here. All of the forced confidence in the world wouldn't change her outcome... If Freddy hadn’t found and cornered her on the open bridge, she would’ve taken the time to look around for the child he protected so dearly. Though taking her eyes off the murderous bear could mean her life if she wasn't careful.

Freddy was an animal now, destroying every one of his friends under the influence of that child. Though her inner dialogue was clear, Roxy twitched, sparks flying from her as she spoke. Even the sides of her legs looked burned, as if she’d been running so fast she overworked the pistons.

For just a moment, Roxy seemed more like herself with the confidence of someone who’s the best and they know it. And then her expression shifted to one of poorly-hidden fear, not unlike the way Chica stared up at Freddy after he’d severed her arm. In a way, this was worse than if she'd just decided to outright attack him.

“You will not believe me, but I did it to protect everyone,” Freddy replied simply, answering everything and nothing at once. He kept his eyes locked on his bandmate. “I did it to make things right… In whatever way necessary.”

With clenched fists Roxy stepped forward, advancing angrily on the bear.

“You're right—” she growled at her once-beloved friend. “—I don't believe you!”

Lifting her knee high, Roxy's foot sprang forward aiming to connect to Freddy's chest in an attempt to knock him down. Freddy barely managed to dodge, jumping to the side just in time to avoid the impact. He let out a gasp of surprise as Roxy’s claws caught his arm, gouging deep dents in the metal. Freddy didn’t want to fight her, but he knew he’d have to keep this up as he waited for the telltale sound of a race car speeding down the track.

Roxy felt something in her as her own claws made contact to the metal, watching as little rows bunched up and sparks flew from the impact on Freddy's arm.

Perhaps she was the scariest. The thought rolled across her mind and Roxy garnered a sick satisfaction from it.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the track Michael was trying his best to get to the ‘test mode’ switch. To the group’s dismay, a thick plastic panel had been installed to prevent it accidentally getting flipped by curious kids. This panel could only be opened with a key, and due to its placement Mike and Charlie were hesitant to smash it and risk damaging the mechanics underneath with their unknown strength.

“For fuck’s sake, nothing can be easy around here, can it?!” Michael groaned. He’d been cursing like the pirate fox he connected so well with under his breath, until finally giving up on trying to pry the cover open with a frustrated huff.

It was hopeless to activate the automatic driver. Charlie didn't want to pry off the lock, as the box surrounding it was too close to the control panel. Unless they wanted to be shocked or ruin the cart, it was best not to mess with it.

“Someone's going to have to drive it,” she murmured, biting the inside of her lip in thought. Before she could say anything else, Gregory hopped in the front seat. “Huh? Gregory, wait—”

“Gregory!” Michael exclaimed, although the boy was already buckling himself in. A glance across the room showed Freddy now in a physical fight with Roxy, which caused Michael’s eyes to widen. They needed to move, and they needed to move now—there was no time to fight.

“Shit!” Mike hissed in panicked frustration as he hopped in the car behind Gregory. He shoved the boy forward to make room for himself in the driver assist seat, then buckled his own seatbelt and glanced at Charlie with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, there’s no time—we’ve got to get Roxy before she takes down Freddy!”

As Gregory started the ignition and the car rumbled to life, Michael leaned forward to grip the sides of the car. Far from Freddy’s usual cold metal, his chest was warm pressed against Gregory’s back, adding the tiniest bit of comfort as Mike said in his ear: “Right is gas, left is brake—got it?”

“Don't talk, just go!” Charlie urged, trusting that as long as someone was going with Gregory, they’d be fine.

Gregory seemed to be working on autopilot, starting with the ignition and leaning back to comfortably fit himself against Michael. Maybe his silence was due in-part to seeing Freddy nearly get scratched open by Roxy's claws at the track ahead; all he knew was that he'd do whatever it took to save the bear and the rest of his friends along with him.

“Got it!” Gregory replied, smart enough to slowly accelerate as to not flood the engine. However, taking it easy was not his goal as the kart climbed quickly in MPH. They were approaching the bridge, seeing Roxy chase Freddy close to their side of the track. It was clear her goal was to either cut him to ribbons, or to push him from the bridge itself.

To Michael’s dismay, the familiar sound of a racing go-kart was simply background noise to the wolf hell-bent on tearing her bandmate to shreds. He and Gregory were almost at the bridge, and their window of opportunity grew smaller by the second. If they couldn’t get her attention soon, they’d need to drive all the way around the track… and Michael doubted Freddy could last that long by himself.

Oh, he’s going to kill me again for this…, Michael thought as he raised one hand to point at Gregory and screamed over the engine:

“ROXY! EYES ON THE REAL PRIZE, PUPPY!”

Roxy snapped towards the voice, her expression settling into focused frenzy as her gaze fell upon the boy she’d been commanded to catch. She tracked the speeding car, and Michael dared to hope that this might actually work—she was going to chase them, and once Freddy got his second wind the bear would be on her in a flash. Roxy’s knees bent in preparation to jump and Michael let out a deliriously triumphant shout—

—Which quickly devolved into a yell of terror as Roxy landed on the track in front of the car. There was no time to swerve and avoid impact so Michael curled himself around Gregory, trying to shield as much of the boy’s frail human body with his own as the car rattled towards the wolf at top speed.

Freddy could only watch in horror as his adoptive family barreled straight into Roxy, her arms outstretched as if to catch the car like it was nothing more than a toy.

There was the sickening crunch of metal crashing. The collision scratched the entirety of Roxy's body from the collarbone down to her knees, though it wasn’t enough to keep her down. Gregory screamed along with Michael, a sound filled with rage and terror—mostly rage from the fact that Roxy had actively been hunting everyone he cared about. He was done feeling like a victim in this evil plot to harvest the lives of children.

Even as their cart pushed her into an unfished portion of the track Roxy’s claws lunged furiously, trying to tear through Michael to get to Gregory. It was their lucky day that no serious scratches landed before Roxy was pinned to the wall, Mike having pulled Gregory from the kart only seconds from the grotesque crash.

Curled into his brother's arms, Gregory breathed hard from the adrenaline rush. Laying on the track, he assessed himself. When he found no major injuries, Gregory beamed with glee.

“I'm alive! We did it! Dad, Charlie—” Gregory shouted, attempting to turn in Michael's grip. “—please tell me you saw that!”

“Unfinished” was certainly one way to describe this portion of the track… Though “unstable” would be better, as the group quickly learned.

Michael’s systems barely had time to reset before he felt the ground crack beneath them. He was still holding Gregory tightly, arms clamped around him in a vice-grip as the physical aftershocks of the impact with the tarmac wracked his body. Luckily, Mike’s internal alert systems—he’d have to thank Henry profusely for including these—indicated that nothing major was damaged. He had a few scrapes that would be pretty gnarly on a human, but his false skin took the wounds with little issue.

However, Michael sensed this would soon change as the section of the track ranging from where he and Gregory lay to the wall Roxy was pinned against suddenly gave out. He, Gregory, Roxy, the car, and a whole bunch of rubble fell into the dark abyss of the employee tunnels beneath the raceway, leaving Freddy and Charlie to stare after them in frozen shock.

***

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