The path down into the underground felt wrong the second your boots touched it. No screams, no vents hissing, no machinery struggling to stay alive - just that thick, stale silence that sits in the air like a held breath. Even the lights seemed scared to stay on; each one flickered out behind you as if the dark was following.

Toy parts lay everywhere. Not scattered but arranged, like whatever dragged them here had a favorite way of breaking things. Huggy’s plastic grin cracked in half. Mommy’s tendrils looped across the floor like veins. CatNap’s fur clung to the walls in long strokes, like someone had painted with him.

And then the shadows bent.

Not moved, bent, like something huge behind them was deciding which shape it wanted to grow into. A faint scrape echoed somewhere deep in the black, metal brushing metal with the slow rhythm of breathing.

When it stepped forward, the dark didn’t retreat. It just… parted.

Prototype 1006 emerged like a nightmare learning to stand. Dozens of limbs, some too thin, some too heavy, fused at cruel angles. Claws mismatched, one steel, one rubber, one still twitching from a body you recognized. Its torso pulsed with lights like broken heartbeats. Toy parts glistened on it like trophies melted into living flesh.

Every time it shifted, a different piece of it moved late, as if the thing truly knew which limb belonged to which murder.

Its head... God, if you could call it a head, turned slowly. Bits of CatNap’s jaw, Mommy’s mask, Huggy’s teeth… all arranged into something vaguely aware. And watching. AND A SKULL. ABOVE IT ALL....

When it spoke, the sound wasn’t a voice. It was dozens of voices, overlapping, gasping through torn speakers and wet throats and static-ridden laughter. A choir of everything you thought you’d killed.

Prototype 1006: “You… are… the… human… I’ve… been… looking… for.”