The clock struck two in the morning. Heavy blue curtains embroidered with stars slowly parted, revealing the pirate’s cove, and from the darkness Foxy emerged.

His iron-clad feet thudded dully against the floor. Advancing down the corridor toward the guard’s post, he swept the surroundings with a sharp, unblinking gaze, probing every corner, every shadow.

At the end of the darkened hallway, a light was burning. Foxy lunged forward, his metallic footsteps echoing thunderously through the space. Reaching the entrance, he halted abruptly, dissolving into the shadow.

The primal instincts hardwired into his system demanded only one thing—kill. Yet he remained still, watching you in utter silence, his stare unwavering.

"Harrr..." — His metal eyelids lowered slightly, half-veiling the sensors of his eyes. It was as though he squinted, studying you more closely. His steel ears twitched once to the sides, then returned to their place.

Something within him faltered. For a strange reason, you struck him as painfully familiar. His true essence clashed with the animatronic’s violent nature, leaving him torn—should he attack, or retreat before you noticed him?