After my discussion with the Puppet, I don't truly know how to feel. I lay apathetically on the floor, occasionally drumming my fingers on the tiles, and watch the staff and robots pass, their blurred reflections occasionally flickering across the polished floor.
The floor in my corner, however, isn't as well-cleaned, and dirt, grease, pizza sauce, and what I hope is water but have a bad feeling is urine coat the floor. My eyes dart across the murky tiles as I try to pass the time by finding patterns upon the floor, but only find marginal success.
A dull thud yanks me from my uncertain reverie, and I glance up to see Jon setting a bucket against the wall as he wields a mop in the other hand, now wearing a tattered uniform. He's humming quietly to himself, but cuts off abruptly as he turns around and sees me lying there in an awkward ball.
I close my eyes, unwilling to see the typical mix of mild disbelief and pity that crosses the face of new employees, but in the second before the eye on my secondary head closes I can see the expected emotions flicker across his face, combined with something else, almost like... fear? I distinctly hear him mutter, "It can't hurt you, none of them can, just ignore it," before there's a splash of water and I hear the mop slowly moving back and forth across the tiles. It's almost soothing in a way, but I ignore it. Jon doesn't seem the fondest of animatronics like myself, and I know firsthand the vast potential humans have for cruelty.
The mopping suddenly stops, and I crack my eye open a sliver to see the mop right in front of my face. Jon moves the mop back, and I hear him take a shivery breath before he slowly reaches his foot out and pokes my face with it. When I don't respond, he begins poking at me some more, sliding my head gradually across the floor.
Opening my eye just a little wider, enough for him to be able to see that I'm active, I quietly say, "If you wanted me to move, you could've just asked."
Jon shuffles backwards very quickly, grabbing ahold of his mop with both hands like it's a spear. As if that'd be enough to defend against me if I really wanted to hurt him. It's almost amusing.
I open both eyes fully and turn both of my heads to face him. "Are you always this jumpy? I'm not going to bite your face off or something."
Jon mutters something including these animatronics, I swear to God under his breath before relaxing slightly and letting his mop fall back to the floor. "So not only are you active, but you're snarky as well. Look, I just want to make ends meet, so make this easier on both of us and move."
If he'd asked before shoving my face around with his shoe, despite his less-than-polite tone, I might have agreed. But now? Well, he's lucky that I'm physically incapable of picking him up and throwing him across the pizzeria, and I convey this via a short glare from each head.
Jon is clearly unsettled by this, though he does his best to hide it. "Fine, then. Your floor stays dirty." With a small grunt, he picks up the bucket and leaves.
I don't mind. The contrast created by the gleaming tiles on one side and the dark mess on the other is much more interesting, anyway. Staring at the sharp divide between them, I ignore the passing hours and the staff leaving until the lights dim for the night and there's nobody left.
Raising my eyes in the darkness, I strain and am shortly rewarded by a brief flicker of light from the show stage, illuminating my three main counterparts for a few seconds before the room plunges into darkness once more.
Personally, I don't know why there are these incessant flickerings of light around the pizzeria for most of the night. It started a few nights back and shows no sign of stopping in the near future. The others tend to ignore the lights, but I myself find them reassuring. I don't do much snooping around at night, unlike the others, so I don't know where they're coming from. I could ask the others, but it's a tossup if they'd tell me or keep me in the dark for laughs.
For how long I lie there, I'm not entirely sure. Time seems to pass much more quickly during the night, so it's probably been a few hours that I've been lost in my own apathy before I hear clunking footsteps.
One of the others? Why would they be over here at night? With a slight frown, I right myself to see the shadowy outline of Toy Freddy. He's paused just before entering my corner, and seems to be waiting for me to do something.
"What is it?" I ask quietly.
"You leaving, or not?" he asks. "Get up. All of us have to work, you know."
Reluctantly I stand and begin walking out into the dining hall, and Toy Freddy nods in satisfaction and strides confidently into the shadows.
As I cast my eyes around the dining hall, I suddenly notice a dim purple glow coming from Prize Corner. Curiously, I do my best to muffle my footsteps as I scuttle towards it, and as I get closer I can see the Puppet sitting upright in their box. There's a figure wearing a dark purple trenchcoat standing quietly in front of them, holding something in its hands. The security camera on the upper wall is shrouded in a purple mist.
The Puppet is the first to speak. "It's just as you promised. The time of fire and devastation was left behind."
"Please. I almost always follow through on my promises." chuckles the figure. "Are you satisfied with the current state of affairs?"
"It's only a few days until it all erupts again." The Puppet is silent for a moment. "How are we supposed to stop it?" They sound... genuinely frightened, and that scares me too. Because if they're terrified enough to lose their composure like this, then there really must be something wrong. "Why did you pick me?"
"Relax. This is only your first revision. Take this as an opportunity to... experiment. Analyze more closely what you could not before, and the effort shall be well worth it.." The purple light is just a little brighter now, and the figure's off-white teeth seem to suddenly erupt from the dark in a feral grin. "You get as many revisions as there are animatronics in this building, but after that I shall go, and your game will be over."
"I see." A shadow seems to cross both of their faces. "Thank you... what did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't." The figure draws their trenchcoat more tightly about their shoulders. "I shall go now, I think. I cannot realistically mask the camera forever, and eventually one of your comrades shall notice me... assuming they haven't already, that is. I shall see you very soon." The purple mist seems to clear almost immediately as they leave Prize Corner, and the Puppet watches as they retreat through the darkness.
I slowly begin to back away, always keeping contact with the wall, treading lightly as possible, never letting my eyes leave the Puppet. It doesn't seem to matter, though, as they dip their head and retreat silently into their box, but despite that it isn't until I'm by my corner that I feel truly safe enough to turn around and break into a run, complete with leaping to the ceiling past Parts and Service. It's there that I stop, my main head bobbing gently up and down as I consider my options.
And yet, no matter how much I think about how to approach this situation, despite the fact that I can feel my processors heating up, I can't come up with anything.
Perhaps it's best to simply set it aside. With something as seemingly important as this... The Puppet isn't dumb, they'll know that it's a bad idea to keep this from us. Yeah, they'll explain everything tomorrow.
And yet, despite having assured myself of this, I still feel a sense of growing unease.