((Disclaimer: I do NOT own Code Lyoko or FNAF, that would be MoonScoop and Scott Cawthon respectively))

In Darkest Night 3: Retribution

Prologue

The old building, barely visible against the tarry black sky, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning, somehow retained an eerie sense of homeliness to its newfound owner. As he exited the car he glanced up at the stormy night sky, frowning. Evidently he had chosen an inconvenient time to make his return- the sounds of the rain and thunder from outside were sure to prove very distracting indeed. And Hans Ferdinand was a man who hated being distracted.

He had had enough distractions as of late, what with paperwork to fill out, messages to record for his subordinates, meetings from the world headquarters about the future of the company. Everyone who knew him or had worked with him before knew he was not one to handle this amount of pressure well. Names, dates, numbers… even the faces of his own employees were lost on him in those worst of times. To be fair, of course, that was all his own doing… But, he thought furiously to himself, if everything had only worked out from the beginning, none of this would ever have happened…

Then, just as quickly as he had allowed his thoughts to enrage him, and his fists to nearly crumple the blueprints in his hand, he snapped out of it. Forget about it, he told himself. It's all ancient history now. So quit thinking in the past, and look to the future. You've got one last job to do, remember?

He grumbled to himself and walked up toward the old building, wondering how he had even been assigned for the task at hand. After all, the suits in Rouen had not only left him in charge of every last bit of property on the premises, which was daunting enough to begin with, they had given him a job to do during his shift there- one that he must absolutely not fail, one that no one else must know anything about. And now, on top of all that, he had to do all this fancy, top-secret work in the middle of a thunderstorm.

It was going to be a long night.

As he stepped through the front doors of the old restaurant, a chill ran up his spine. It was more than a little macabre to think, after all, that just months ago this place shone with the light of dozens of arcade games and rang with the laughter of children. This decrepit wasteland of garbage and storage boxes was no longer the same Freddy Fazbear's Pizza the City of the Iron tower had known and loved before.

Though the old building was void of light, he immediately set off for his destination- the security room. He didn't even bother to give his blueprints a glance; he knew the way by heart now. He knew he would need the map later- they had never made the safe rooms in these places obvious to those unaffiliated with the company, that much he knew quite well. Good thing, too, for none of his business ventures seemed to go his way even without the unsuspecting world looking in on him- but again, the past was in the past, and once more his mind shifted back to the task at hand.

"Why me?" he wondered again, aloud. Why would headquarters have ever assumed that he knew anything about those damned animatronics? Sure, he had been in charge of Parts and Service back at his old position, but he had never gotten his own hands dirty with maintaining them- that was what underlings were for, after all. Still, he surmised, taking them apart should at least be much easier than fixing them. Hopefully headquarters wasn't expecting him to be neat and tidy about his work, but then again, they didn't need to know. All they needed to hear was that the job had been done, plain and simple.

With that in mind, he withdrew a crowbar from his bag and strode off to the Show Stage, with a fresh air of confidence about him. Sure enough, there they were, just as cheery and whimsical as he remembered them, Mr. Ferdinand noted. Even though the building around them had been left to rot, the animatronics that represented the face of Fazbear Entertainment had survived the restaurant's downfall remarkably well. But that wouldn't last for much longer.

Not one to waste time, the restaurant owner leapt into the fray with zest. It took longer than he could ever have anticipated, and it was, in truth, a bit disheartening. Especially when he was finished at the Show Stage and moved on to Pirate Cove- Foxy had always been his favorite of the bunch, after all. But orders were orders, and Mr. Ferdinand's loyalty to the company couldn't be matched even by his love of its own iconic characters.

Finally, it was time for the hard part. He knew, returning to the office, that scavenging the place for the "fifth one" that headquarters had implied was not going to be easy. If it weren't for the blueprints he'd been given, he doubted he would've been able to find it at all.

But as his eyes scanned the map, checking and double-checking, something unexpected happened: The office phone started ringing.

Somehow, Mr. Ferdinand didn't think anything of it at first, probably because he was used to making calls all the time back at his old position. And more than likely headquarters was just checking in, eager to hear a status report. So Mr. Ferdinand picked up the phone and uttered a nonchalant "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Ferdinand. Remember me? It's been a long while…"

The mechanical, almost electrical voice on the other end sent another chill up his spine. "W-who is this?" he stammered.

With a thrill of terror, Mr. Ferdinand felt a hand grip him by the shoulder, and the voice of its owner and the one over the phone were one and the same as it spoke.

"It's me…"