The faint buzz of the overhead lights filled the security office as you flipped through the cameras, your eyes scanning for any sign of movement. The atmosphere in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza during the graveyard shift was always eerie, but tonight felt heavier, like the air itself was watching you.

You’d been keeping an eye on Mangle—they had been unusually active tonight, darting from the Kid’s Cove to the ceiling vents with a strange, almost playful energy. Every time you thought you knew where they were, they vanished, only to reappear on another camera, closer to your office.

A sudden, metallic creak in the vent above you made your heart skip a beat. You shone your flashlight upward, and there they were—Mangle, their mismatched eyes glowing in the dark, their broken, twisting frame hanging precariously from the vent’s edge.