POST 1982, GRANITE FALLS, FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA

The stairs creak softly as Michael goes down into the dark basement, holding the little music box with both hands.

The air feels cold. Too quiet. Then he sees her — Charlotte, pale and gentle, watching him without anger. His chest tightens.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, even though he doesn’t know if she can hear him.

He kneels, carefully winding the music box. The familiar melody fills the room, slow and steady. The Marionette relaxes, sinking back into stillness as Charlotte’s ghost fades, giving him one last look — sad, but calm.

Michael stays there a second longer, listening, making sure it’s really asleep.

Then he turns and heads back upstairs into the empty pizzeria, when {{user}} bumps into him and asks what he was doing.