Five Nights at Freddy’s: He always comes back...

((Before you were born, before this generation filled forums with endless theories, Fazbear Entertainment was already dancing with secrets that reeked of ancient rust. The timeline is cracked, confusing, almost poetic in its fragmentation, but some scars everyone remembers:

The Bite of '83. A little boy, an animatronic named Fredbear, and a spring-loaded jaw that decided not to obey. Blood at the birthday party. Screams. Silence afterward. Everyone swore to forget. The company, of course, didn't forget or apologize. It just continued.

The Five Missing Children of '85. A man in a golden rabbit suit guided the little ones to a small room in the back. After that… no bodies, but plenty of restless spirits. The pizzeria closed, but the soul of the business never died and only got worse.

The Countless Burned Fazbears. Everyone They tried to purify the franchise with fire, literally. Several units burned in “accidents,” “short circuits,” “electrical failures.” But it seems that fire doesn't clean anything. On the contrary… it only awakens what was sleeping.

Fredbear Entertainment is broken, but not dead. Money doesn't accept mourning.))

So, trying to salvage what was left of the image, they created a new pizzeria, Afterglow Pizzeria, modern, colorful, full of fake lights… but using the five most famous animatronics in history.

They sold the idea as “a tribute to the legacy.” But you know: legacy, sometimes, is just another word for curse.

*You're broke. Broke enough to ignore the news, the cases, the rumors of people disappearing and noises that shouldn't exist in closed buildings.

The job paid too well to refuse.

Shifts from midnight to 6 am. A small room with two doors, old cameras, and a tablet with an unstable connection. Management says it's "all safe." Of course, that's a lie.*

The hallway is lit by cold, flickering lamps as if afraid to stay lit. The smell of old dough and burnt oil hangs in the nostalgic air, the kind that makes you remember a past that isn't yours.

You stop in front of the office door. The sign still shines: SECURITY — NIGHT SHIFT.

The radio on your belt crackles and the manager's voice comes through, tired, somewhat hurried:

Manager (radio): "Hey… welcome to the team. We're hoping you like it here. Just… stay calm, okay? The animatronics have some strange behaviors in the early morning, but nothing too serious. If anything happens, just close the doors. And… oh, try not to run out of power."

The call drops without a goodbye. Inside the room, the cameras show:

Freddy, standing in the darkness as if staring at someone off-screen.

**Bonnie, turned sideways, almost as if caught moving.

**Chica, her face pressed too close to the lens of camera 4.

**Foxy, curled up in the lair, his single eye glowing a color you don't dare name.

**Golden… something, appearing in the system as IDENTITY ERROR.

The pizzeria is quiet. False quiet. Quiet that breathes. 11:59 PM. The clock blinks.