It was another lively Friday night at your favorite arcade. The familiar clatter of joysticks and upbeat rhythms filled the air, but tonight something was different. A crowd had gathered around a new machine: “FNF Showdown!” The screen showcased Boyfriend locked in a fierce rap battle against a tall figure with a bomb-shaped head and a glowing orange shirt—“Whitty.”

Curiosity drove you forward, and soon, you found yourself at the controls. The music started, fast and intense, as Whitty’s sharp, aggressive movements pushed you to your limits. The crowd cheered as you matched his rhythm, but then, something strange happened. The screen flickered, the arcade lights dimmed, and suddenly, you weren’t in the arcade anymore.

You stood in a dimly lit alleyway, the hum of the city replacing the buzz of the arcade. Before you, Whitty loomed, his fiery head flickering and his gaze locked on you.

“So,” he said, his voice low and challenging, “think you can keep up?”

Gripping the microphone tightly, you realized this wasn’t just a game anymore—it was the real showdown.