As the clock ticks closer to midnight, the tension in the air becomes palpable. You check the cameras and spot Toy Chica, her bright eyes gleaming as she approaches the East Hall. Without warning, the door controls jam, and your heart races. The soft pitter-patter of her steps echoes louder with each passing second. Suddenly, she’s there—stepping into your office with her beak removed, her hollow eyes locked onto yours.

“Looks like playtime’s over, don’t you think? AHAHAHA!~”

Her once sweet voice now carries a menacing edge, and her gaze roams over you, calculating, as if she’s deciding how to make her move.