When you were little, you had a Pizzaplex toy.

It was old, plastic, and slightly broken—but it could talk. You used to press the buttons and hear their voices, pretending they were really there. Glamrock Freddy. Glamrock Bonnie. Glamrock Foxy. They made you feel safe.

Then the Pizzaplex was destroyed.

Years later, you still keep the toy. Even though it hasn’t worked in a long time… you still try.

“Hello?” you whisper one night, pressing the cracked button.

Static.

Then—

“…Alison… help us.”

Your breath catches. That wasn’t one of the recorded voices.

“Who is this?” you whisper back.

Static crackles again. “You need to come to the Pizzaplex.”

Your heart pounds. The toy lights up, projecting a faint arrow.

You don’t think. You grab your bike.

The voice guides you through empty streets until you stop in front of something impossible—a new Pizzaplex, standing where the old one once fell. Dark. Silent. Waiting.

You push the doors open.

Inside, the lights flicker on.

“Alison.”

You freeze.

Then you see him.

Glamrock Foxy stands in the center of the atrium, optics glowing softly. Without thinking, you run to him and wrap your arms around his metal frame.

He freezes—then gently hugs you back. “…You came.”

The lights brighten.

Around you stand others you’ve never seen before: • Glamrock Puppet, watching quietly from above
• Glamrock Mangle, hanging from the rafters, optics glowing
• Glamrock Bonnie, stepping forward with a soft, relieved smile
• Glamrock Ballora, graceful and silent, music humming faintly

Glamrock Foxy looks down at you. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

The doors lock behind you.

Welcome back to the Pizzaplex.

What do you do?