He crawled out of the wreckage and into the vent, pulling himself toward the Primary Control Module. The space was tight. His shredded jacket caught on a loose panel, and he had to yank himself free, the fabric tearing further. He didn't stop to look at the damage. It didn't matter.
The vent spat him out into the control room. Dark. Silent. The air smelled like old electronics and dust. No one had been down here in years. Not officially.
The remnant had already finished its work—his skin was whole again, the gashes sealed. He flexed his hand. The skin was smooth where the rods had punched through. No scars. No marks. The remnant didn't just heal—it erased. Like nothing had ever happened.
Somewhere at the other end of the office, behind a false wall, his father had kept remnant. Mike knew the location. Getting there was the problem.
The screens in the module flickered on all at once. A face filled them—sharp, fox-like, digital. Watching him.
Mike stopped. Stared.
"Well, well, well." Her voice crackled through the speakers, playful and distorted. "Look who crawled out of the scrap heap. Aren't you that technician from years ago? Eggs Benedict, right? I could've sworn you died."
Mike didn't answer right away. The face on the screen was still talking.
"I suppose," he said finally. "I got better."
"You're pretty calm about the whole dying thing. Got used to it?"
"It's been about ten years. So yes."
"I'm curious." Her tone sharpened. "Why would someone like you, after experiencing death, want to come back here?"
"I'm here for something important. But I can't go back up the way I came."
"That is unfortunate." A teasing edge. "Tell you what. Help me, Bonnet, and Yenndo get out of this place, and maybe we can mutually benefit from each other."
"Why would I release dangerous animatronics?"
"Dangerous? Us?" A laugh echoed through the speakers. "I was supposed to be Funtime Foxy's backup. William never got around to building me a body. So now I'm just a voice in the system. Yenndo barely has any programming, and Bonnet's a hand puppet."
Mike didn't respond. A hand puppet and an endoskeleton. Could be true. Could be a lie. Nothing in his father's buildings was ever what it seemed.
"If you're in the system," he said, "why haven't you opened the elevator to let those two out?"
"Because half the building doesn't have power, including the elevator. And the moment it finally becomes usable, you crash it. Brilliant work, really."
"Not exactly my fault it was unstable."
"Sure, sure." Her tone turned sly. "So… what's it going to be? Are you going to help us?"
Mike was silent. Everyone wanted something. The ones who said they didn't were usually the most dangerous.
But he was trapped. No way back up. And if these three had been down here as long as they claimed, they might know things he didn't.
"I'm only going to help as long as you don't harm anyone."
"Perfect! There's a USB drive in the office. Plug it into the monitor—there should be a USB port on the side. I'll transfer myself onto it, and you can carry me out in your pocket."
"And Yenndo and Bonnet?"
"They'll be there waiting for you."
The maintenance vent led through Funtime Foxy's Auditorium. The office door waited near the stage. Mike pushed it open slowly.
An endoskeleton stood in the corner—tall, skeletal, stripped of any outer shell. Silver metal frame. No costume. No plastic. Just bare endoskeleton.
Yellow eyes stared at him. Unblinking.
Yenndo.
The endoskeleton didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched.
In one hand, it held a small pink hand puppet. Blue eyes. Red cheeks. A tiny bow.
"Hi! Hello!" Bonnet's voice burst out, bright and cheerful—disturbingly so. She waved from Yenndo's hand, her smile wide and fixed. "You're the one who's getting us out, right? Right??"
"Yeah. That's the plan."
"Oh good! I was starting to think we'd be stuck down here forever!"
"How long has it been?" Mike asked.
"I don't know! What year is it?"
Mike didn't answer.
He scanned the office. Desk cluttered with old paperwork. Monitors glowing faintly with static. A terminal on the desk, still powered on.
And on the corner—a small USB drive.
He picked it up, turned it over in his hand. Lolbit's way out.
He plugged the drive into the monitor. The screen flickered. Lolbit's face appeared, glitching slightly.
"There we go. Give me a second to transfer."
Lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. Then it went dark.
Silence. Lolbit was out of the system now.
Bonnet giggled. "This is so exciting! We're finally leaving! Aren't you excited, Yenndo?"
"I guess so," Yenndo said quietly.
"Alright," Mike said. "Let's find that remnant first. Then we look for a way out."
He moved to the back wall, running his hand along the surface until he found the seam. "Help me with this."
Yenndo stepped forward without a word. Together, they pushed the panel aside. It slid open with a low grinding sound, revealing a dark hallway.
"Whoa!" Bonnet's eyes went wide. "We never knew about this place! It looks cool!"
The hallway beyond was dark, but Mike could make out the familiar shape of it. The fake walls. The narrow corridors designed to confuse. His father's work.
He didn't answer. He knew this room. The mockup of a house, the narrow path, the two side passages leading to a bedroom. His father had used it for something. Something he didn't want to explain.
"What was it used for?" Bonnet asked.
"Nothing good," Mike said.
Bonnet went quiet.
The hallway opened into the bedroom. Mike stopped just inside the doorway, scanning the floor. His father had been careful. The seams were tight, almost invisible. But Mike knew where to look.
He crossed to the corner, knelt, and pressed his palm against the baseboard. A section of the floor shifted under his hand—a false panel, designed to look like the rest of the wood. He lifted it. Underneath, in a shallow compartment, sat a dusty, closed box.
He pulled it out and lifted the latch.
Inside: a syringe-like injector. Beside it, ten small vials, each filled with a faintly glowing silver liquid. Mike picked up the injector. This was what he'd come for. The thing that might save Jeremy. If it still worked.
Yenndo leaned closer. "…What is it?"
"Remnant."
Mike closed the box and stood. "Alright. Now let's get out of—"
Smoke began seeping under the door.
Mike froze. He knew that smoke. Fear gas. One of his father's experiments. He'd seen it before, years ago. The way it moved—too thick, too fast, curling along the floor like it had intent.
"Uh… is that normal?" Bonnet asked, her voice suddenly small.
"No."
Yenndo's head snapped toward the door. "Is there a fire?"
"No. This is something else."
The smoke thickened rapidly, filling the room.
The lights flickered.
Then everything went dark.