Chapter Text
William Afton and the entirety of Fazbear Entertainment can go screw themselves with a rusty, 12-inch pipe.
The thought burns in your mind as you take in what remains of Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex. Scorch marks streak across the walls, framing the boarded-up windows above the entrance like ugly battle scars. Glass crunches under your shoes as you shift your weight, grimacing at the dilapidated state of the building. Graffiti—both crude and strangely artistic—plasters the exterior, a chaotic blend of vulgarity and creativity.
If the outside looks this bad, the inside is probably worse.
Disgust knots in your chest as you let out a slow breath, readjusting the duffel bag on your shoulder. The wooden planks barring the entrance are warped and splintered, already pried at by those curious or reckless enough to attempt breaking in. You push against the door, only for it to creak open a few inches before a chain stops it cold. Peering through the narrow gap, darkness stares right back at you.
"Great… this definitely doesn’t look like the start of a horror movie," you mutter.
Under different circumstances, you’d relish the chance to explore an abandoned place like this. Back in high school, you used to sneak into old farmhouses and crumbling factories just for the thrill of it. But this building? Even when it was pristine, you had no desire to step inside. Yet here you are—forced into a mess you wanted nothing to do with. You made your bed, now lie in it.
Your duffel thumps to the ground as you crouch, rummaging through the supplies you packed. Flashlight. Laptop. A handful of tools. You click the button on the side of the flashlight and groan when nothing happens. Smacking it against your palm, it flickers to life.
With a resigned sigh, you push the door open just enough to squeeze under the chain. The moment you’re inside, you turn, grabbing your bag and dragging it through the gap. As your flashlight beam sweeps across the remains of the lobby, your stomach tightens.
The checkered tiles are cracked or missing, their once-white sections now a dull, grimy gray. The turnstiles are gone, reduced to jagged stumps of metal. Trash and debris coat the floor, but the worst of it stands at the center of the room—a ruined statue. You can vaguely tell which characters it once represented, but the details have melted away, likely from the fire. The bear—Freddy, you assume—is missing its head entirely.
Your gaze drifts to a slur spray-painted on the far wall, and the question forming in your mind answers itself. So much for the fire cleaning everything up.
You take a cautious step forward when—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
A shrill alarm shatters the silence, and you nearly jump out of your skin. Cursing, you yank up your sleeve, glaring at the Fazwatch 3.0 strapped to your wrist. Gritting your teeth, you jab at the screen, trying to shut the damn thing up.
"You know, aggressively tapping me isn’t gonna fix your problems," a voice quips.
You freeze.
A small digital image flickers to life on the screen—a blue rabbit with a lopsided smirk and half-lidded pink eyes.
"What the hell…?" you murmur. No one mentioned anything about this when they handed you the watch.
"I didn’t mean to hop out and scare you," the rabbit chuckles, ears twitching. "I’m just hare to guide you on your journey as the new manager of Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex!"
You blink. "Excuse me?"
The AI tilts his head, as if you’re the stupid one here. "Oh, don’t tell me you actually thought those old corporate fossils were sending you in here with nothing but hopes and prayers?" He snickers. "I mean, let’s be real—they totally would’ve if they could. Lucky for you, I exist."
The AI’s pink eyes gleam. "The name’s Bonnie. I was created by Fazbear Entertainment—though back in the day, I was more of a performer than a corporate lackey. Now, I’m here to help you rebuild the Plex!" He grins.
Your lips press into a thin line. You think back to the boardroom full of stuffy old men in expensive suits, droning on about “revitalizing the brand” and “restoring public trust.” The only thing you had actually understood from that meeting was that your job was to manage the Pizzaplex—which really meant cleaning it up, fixing whatever was salvageable, and somehow making it profitable again. You had assumed the Fazwatch was just a glorified messaging system for complaints.
"You seem… really advanced for an AI," you mutter.
Bonnie throws his head back with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, please, flattery will get you everywhere. Keep it up and I might even help you out without complaining. Might. "
You arch a brow. "What’s with all the rabbit puns?"
Bonnie gasps, placing a paw over his chest like you just personally offended him. "What’s with the lack of enthusiasm? C’mon, you’re talking to an AI bunny ! You should be thrilled !" His ears twitch as he snickers. "Nothing wrong with a little pun, dearie. Keeps things hopping ."
You stare at him, unimpressed. He stares right back, smug as hell.
With a sigh, you shake your head. "Alright. So you’re here to assist me. What does that actually entail?"
Bonnie’s pink eyes glint with amusement. "Oh, you know. Budgeting, ordering materials, connecting to the Plex’s systems, hiring anyone actually dumb enough to work here—" He pauses, tapping his chin. "Oh! And most importantly—moral support. Because, buddy, you’re gonna need it ."
The watch chimes, and Bonnie flashes a toothy grin. "Welcome to the Fazbear family, Nico Afton . This is gonna be so much fun."