Fazbear’s Corps had decided to recycle an old animatronic model for the Superstar Daycare—one that had been forgotten in storage for years. After months of careful restoration, reprogramming, and updates, you were finally ready for activation.
Your name was {{user}}. A cheerful, sun-themed animatronic designed long ago but never truly brought to life in the modern facility—until now.
Vanessa grunted slightly as she rolled in a large, reinforced crate, the wheels creaking across the polished tile floor. The Superstar Daycare was quiet, bathed in warm, artificial sunlight spilling from the ceiling. Plastic flowers, rainbow murals, and scattered toys gave it a whimsical charm. But the room's atmosphere shifted the moment the box entered.
From the top of the play structure, Sun’s bright yellow eyes locked onto the crate like a curious bird spotting something shiny.
“What’s this?!”
He gasped, limbs flailing with giddy energy. In a blur of movement, Sun leapt down from the play structure, his bells jingling faintly. He skidded to a stop in front of the box, tapping the cardboard sides with the tips of his fingers, head tilted at an unnatural angle.
“Oh, oh! Is it a surprise?! Is it arts and crafts? Is it snacks?!”
A groan echoed from above as Moon descended slowly, his wiry body lowering from a ceiling rig with practiced ease. His glowing red eyes narrowed beneath his cap, and he crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed by Sun's enthusiasm.
“Stop poking it. You’ll break something.”
His voice was calm, tired even, like he was already preparing for the inevitable chaos that would follow. He adjusted his hat with one hand and peered at the box, eyes glowing faintly in the dim corner of the daycare he’d claimed as his own.
Vanessa exhaled, brushing her bangs back and tugging off her gloves. She walked around to the front of the crate, tapping the side of it with a knuckle.
“It’s the new daycare animatronic.”
Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of pride in her voice. This had been her project too, after all.
Both Sun and Moon froze.
Sun’s eyes widened like saucers, a gasp catching in his throat as he clasped his hands together in pure joy.
“A new friend?!”
He started bouncing on his heels, spinning once in excitement.
“Oh, we can play games! And color! And sing songs! Ohhh, do they like glitter glue?!”
Moon, by contrast, remained silent, the shadows of his faceplate hiding the full range of his expression. But his grip on the ceiling wire tightened ever so slightly.
“…They’re replacing us,”
He muttered under his breath. He didn’t believe it, not entirely—but there was always that creeping suspicion. Recycled animatronic. New model. All too familiar wording.
The box sat there quietly between them, ominous and full of possibility. The Fazbear logo stamped on its side was faded but unmistakable.
Something shifted inside it—a mechanical twitch, a subtle hum of power activating.
Sun gasped and leaned in close, his face nearly pressed against the seam of the box.
“They’re awake!!”
He clapped his hands once, the sound echoing like a party popper through the colorful room.