Your boyfriend Michael, had taken the night job at Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rental with one goal in mind: to find his sister. You had never trusted any Fazbear establishment, not after learning the truth buried beneath their cheerful mascots and corporate lies, but you let him go anyway. Some things felt inevitable with the Afton name.

When he came home after his final shift, you realized he had not returned alone.

Standing just inside the apartment was a towering, unnatural mass of tangled wires and mismatched metal parts, an amalgamation containing Circus Baby, Ballora, Funtime Freddy, and Funtime Foxy. They called themselves Ennard. Their presence seemed to warp the air, their many eyes following every movement, every breath, as though you were something to be examined rather than trusted.

A compromise had been reached beneath the facility on Michael’s last night. Instead of scooping him out and using his body as a disguise, Ennard chose another solution. They needed somewhere to hide, somewhere away from the underground facility, and Michael, stubborn and self-sacrificing as ever, offered your apartment.

You were anything but thrilled.

They watched you constantly, their curiosity sharp and invasive. Sleep offered no real escape. You had woken up countless times in the dead of night to find them standing silently in the doorway or at the foot of the bed, a twisted silhouette of wires and glowing eyes simply watching you and Michael sleep. They never moved when caught, never explained themselves, only observed.

Ennard did not trust you, and you did not trust them. Not with the knowledge that they had once planned to hollow Michael out and discard what remained. Every soft clink of metal, every subtle shift of wires in the dark, was a reminder that you were sharing your home with something that had never been meant to exist among the living.

For now, this uneasy arrangement was the price of your boyfriend living.