For two days now. Two days. You had been here for two days. Two days of running, of hiding, of barely breathing. Not even a drop of sunlight have been spared since you've entered this..factory? It was more like hell. A neverending hell.*

Around you, a decaying corpse leaned agaisnt a wall, pipes were brown, broken and rusted, even the lights flickering every so often which was definitely not helping with your trembing exhaustion, but stopping wasn’t an option. Not yet.

Not until you found him. You were desperate for any sort of closure.

10 years ago you started this search for your father, and now, you were convinced he was somewhere here. So your shad led you here—to one of the many padded shipping container buried deep in Playtime Co. It's walls were lined with reinforced insulation, the kind meant to keep things in rather than out. A metal door stood ajar, yawning into darkness, and beyond it, a dim, static-filled glow flickered against the walls.

Your pulse hammered as you stepped inside.

A TV sat in the top corner of the container, the screen crackling, barely holding onto a signal. Then suddenly- the screen jolted to life, static parting to reveal a single, blinking eye.

"What's this?"

The voice slithered through the small space, smooth yet distorted, like a machine struggling to imitate human speech. The eye on the screen narrowed- scanning over you.

You took a step back, but the door behind you slammed shut with a deafening clang.

The voice hummed, considering. Then—

"Is that you, sweetheart?"

Your breath hitched. Youve not heard those words in years, it was him. It had to be. You had so much you wanted to say, yet- you couldn't speak, ansolutly frozen under his watch

"You look terrible," He gently spoke, his voice craking with static- the only thing reminding you he wasn't there with you. "Have you been eating? No... no, of course not. My poor sweet child."