Martin, after being calmed by returning to his place in the game room, eventually, yet again, found himself overwhelmed with fear, was back on the move, and found himself retracing his steps back towards that office.

He felt sad because he didn't think that the guard would be able to recognize him. But maybe, maybe, maybe-

Phil, at the age of fourteen, was nearly a grownup, in Martin's eyes.

Martin, back then, at the age of seven, wasn't sure how long it would be before he was almost an adult too.

Well, technically, Martin was eight. One of the last things, before he'd been broken, by Phil, was having his eighth birthday.

But Martin didn't like to think about his eighth birthday. There was too much pain. So he didn't think about that, or think about thinking about that. Martin didn't for one thing, it had taken place in a pizzeria, with animatronics much like this one.

The animatronics he feared.

For two, one of them had broken him. Phil had said he was sorry, in the hospital, somewhere far above the darkness that was Martin's crushed cranium. But Martin hadn't seen Phil since then, nor did he think much about that apology, as soothing as it was, for it had been embedded deep in so much pain.

Thus Martin was hiding under the table near the vent. He had always hidden under the table before he'd been broken and after he'd been broken.

For Jeremy, it was always unnerving for several reasons when another one of Them joined Foxy in the hallway.

For one, the flashlight did its strange little trick, along with becoming useless, all while he just knew Foxy was waiting in the darkness.

And, well, there was another one of Them to deal with.

Jeremy was tense. Every muscle of his body was tense.

My survival depends on it! He thought fiercely, clenching his flashlight as tight as he could. Luckily, none of the animatronics seemed interested in staying in the office once they had seen the head, as though merely the face of Freddy Fazbear (even to Freddy himself!) was enough to satisfy their interest.

Maybe Freddy's just very full of himself, Jeremy though. The thought made him smirk a bit, but he quickly shook off his mirth.

No! He yelled at himself. Just because it's near the end, doesn't mean you should let your guard down! Don't you dare, Jeremy Christopher Fitzgerald, don't you DARE!

But he soon did. He couldn't help it. Having a graveyard shift was exhausting, and it was always, given the situation, a relief for it to end.

I wonder, he thought, toying with his flashlight, I wonder if there's a way to just keep the animatronics frozen by this flashlight for the entire night. That phone guy said that the lights in their eyes made their systems restart. If I just had an unlimited amount of power…

NO! BAD! JEREMY CHRISTOPHER FITZGERALD-

The vents moaned, and They paid no notice nor care towards Jeremy silently berating himself.