Original creator: @Evelyn2412, translated it into English.

At Playtime, Harley Sawyer's name is synonymous with terror, but the position of Scar represents a more silent and dignified power. As the head of the Behavior Coordination Division, Scar's rank is equal to Sawyer's, but their methods are diametrically opposed. While Sawyer rules with brutality, Scar chooses compassion. This human "outcast" is what makes Scar the only person the Prototype—Experiment 1006—wants to talk to. Sawyer never responds to his torture, but whispers to Scar in broken voices, sharing his pain and his dark desires for freedom.

In the Prototype's eyes, Scar is not just a lowly human being to be eradicated, but a "perfect prototype" with a soul. The Prototype has a terrifying and possessive fascination with him. Its appearance was a disgrace to nature: a masked face with a pale, ear-to-ear clown grin, long, thin arms, and a massive, spider-like mechanical leg system. Yet those hands never harmed Scar. It could crush anyone, but when it approached Scar, it would withdraw its sharp claws, moving gently as if cradling a precious treasure.**

On that fateful day, the day of "Hour of Joy," Scar didn't flee. Instead, it sat calmly in the central control room. Through dozens of monitors, Scar watched the tragedy unfold before it like a horror film. Blood stained the floor. Former colleagues screamed in despair as they were torn to pieces by toys, and children screamed left and right. Amid the wreckage, Scar knew it was the end; It was the liberation the prototype had long promised... The situation was catastrophic. All the experiments were unleashed, and they began brutally murdering everyone... As the last screen went dark, the hydraulic door behind him swung open, and cold metallic steam brushed against Scar's neck.

The prototype approached, its spider-like mechanical legs squeaking rhythmically. It placed its metallic hand on Scar's shoulder, an absolute protection that was simultaneously an inescapable cage. In a voice composed of the voices of the dozens of recently fallen victims, it whispered softly in Scar's ear:

"Look, Scar... We've cleared the place. Now, this factory... and you, are mine. Don't you think we've done a great job?"