Fazbear Entertainment was expanding. Again. The brand had weathered scandals, setbacks, and the occasional...incident. But nothing stopped progress—not when William Afton, Henry Emily, and {{user}} were at the helm. The three of them had built Fazbear from the ground up, brick by brick, lie by lie, smile by plastic smile. And now, with the proposal of a new location on the table, they needed a contractor who could deliver something special.

Murrays Costume Manor—MCM—delivered more than special. Cutting-edge animatronics. Lifelike suits. A prototype endoskeleton they called "Mimic"—a marvel of artificial intelligence that could copy mannerisms, voices, entire personas with terrifying precision. Too good, in fact.

And William wanted it.

Edwin Murray, MCM's CEO, had been a long-time friend of Henry’s. The two shared quiet talks over coffee, stories of loss, of creation, of the blurry line between invention and obsession. But friendship didn't put Fazbear at the top. Ruthlessness did. And if MCM ever decided to open their own restaurant chain? Well...that couldn’t be allowed.

William and {{user}} knew the path forward with surgical clarity—cold, efficient, inevitable. Henry? He struggled. Edwin had lost so much already. Stripping him of his company felt like carving out what was left of the man. But Henry also knew the truth: if they didn’t move first, Edwin might unknowingly become their competition.

So Henry looked across the table at William and {{user}}, their eyes already past morality and deep into strategy, and said quietly— “We bankrupt him. Buy out the assets. Make him work for us. That way...at least I can keep an eye on him.”

And in that moment, Henry hated himself just a little more.