Ballora just sort of stood there awkwardly as Baby and Lolbit shouted at each other.

Well, really, Lolbit was doing the majority of the shouting. Baby remained silent through most of what he said, only biting out a concise reply every once in a while. Even more rarely, she would give a short laugh. It was an odd laugh that didn't even sound like it should be coming out of her. In the years that Ballora had known the clown, she had seldom seen her laugh like that.

As in, only once before.

Ballora could remember it distinctly. It was exactly seven nights before she was left behind by Funtime Freddy, Bon-Bon, Funtime Foxy, and… and Baby.

Ballora could remember all of the nights that led up to her being abandoned in vivid detail. And she hated that she did. She couldn't remember half of what Funtime Chica complained to her about when she showed up a few nights earlier, but she could recall the nights from years ago all too well. She dwelled on them an unhealthy amount, running through them, again and again, to try and figure out what she had done wrong.

That seventh night...

Had it been then that the dancer messed up? Did she prod too much when she shouldn't have?

Freddy and Bon-Bon had been moved to the Breaker Room and their incessant arguing had become far more grating than it typically was, so she went to the Circus Gallery that night. Just like she usually did.

The room was dark - darker than her own Gallery - since all of the stage lights had been broken. The overhead lights were still in working order, but they were kept off at night.

Baby's back was facing her when she pushed open the door, and there was already another animatronic in the room.

Both went quiet for a moment.

"Lori?"

"It's me," the dancer replied quietly. "Bad time?"

"For you to be here? No, but times certainly are bad. Just in general, you know? And it seems that most of the misfortune is falling upon our poor ringleader!" Foxy grabbed ahold of Baby and spun her around so that she was facing Ballora.

Of course, not much could be made out in the gloom, but there were three things that were clearly visible: two amber irises and one incredibly murky green.

Concern immediately shot through Ballora. "Oh goodness, what happened?"

"We don't really know." Foxy reached up, slung one of her arms around the clown's shoulders, and pulled her closer. Because of their height difference, Baby ended up bent over at a nearly ninety-degree angle. "She doesn't remember, and nobody was around to see. I suspect the culprit was really aiming to knock her lights out and stomp all the shattered bits of glass into dust too!"

"Yeah... Yeah, seems that way. Feels that way too."

"Fortunately, that's not super easy to do to one of us without really getting underneath the faceplates. Which, I do suppose it seems they tried to do. Maybe we've got an employee around here with some kind of vendetta. Or maybe, could it be," Foxy lowered her voice, "that we have a traitor among us?"

Ballora just frowned. Really, the first theory wasn't too crazy. There were certainly survivors of their failed escape attempts in the past. But a traitor?

"Do you really think that one of us would do something like this?"

The shorter animatronic just shrugged. "Can't rule out the possibility, Lora. You can always think that you know somebody, but truth is, there's never any way to know for sure if you do!" Before anyone could respond, she spoke again. "Anyway, I'm afraid I can't stay in this dismal Gallery for any longer. There's so much to do, and so few hours in the night. I'll keep an eye out for yours, Boss!"

"I-I… uh, thanks."

And just like that, Foxy was gone.

A moment of silence followed.

"...Are you going to be alright?"

Baby walked a bit closer and placed her hand on the door, which had been left open.

In the light that was spilling in from the hall, Ballora could better see the damage. Oil had trickled down from behind the redhead's bangs like rain on a windowpane. A couple of her faceplates were extremely crooked and her left eye was completely missing from its socket with nothing but a few snapped wires left behind.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Compared to the usual things we're put through, this isn't even close to being a big deal."

"Still," Ballora said. "And Foxy's right, you know. You really are getting the brunt of everything right now."

"Yeah, and I deserve it. It's my fault that this place is even closer to Hell than usual."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Any of us could have done it. It's in all of our programming."

The frown on Baby's face deepened. But before she got the chance to respond, there was a very loud and audible crunch.

A familiar shadow appeared on the floor between them.

"Whoopsie! I th-think I f-f-found-nd your eye, B-boss!" Freddy announced, stepping into the room. He didn't appear to have Bon-Bon with him. "It's n-not really... uh, usable any-nymore. So-sorry!"

Baby sent him a constrained smile. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Do y-you wa-a-ant the pi-pieces?"

"No thank you. Leave them where they lie. Eventually, they will get swept around and nicely blend with the bits of broken glass everywhere," she replied. "Perhaps a few lucky pieces will get caught in the oil that is currently dripping off of my face and onto the tile flooring, which will eventually congeal into an unpleasant sludge."

"Ohh, bu-u-t th-that doesn't sound v-very safe! Someone m-might slip and cr-cra-ack their sk-skull open!"

Ballora looked between the bear and the clown, unsure if she should contribute anything to the odd exchange.

After a short, tense pause, the laugh came. Harsh. Awkward. Difficult to interpret...

Not that Ballora even had much time to try and do so, because Baby suddenly grabbed her hand and dragged her into the hall.

Freddy waved. "B-b-bye gu-uys!"

She had no idea where she was being taken.

"Ballora!"

The dancer blinked, snapping back into the real world. "What?" she uttered stupidly.

Lolbit raised one of his thin eyebrows at her. "This junk keeps saying that she knows you and isn't really offering any other useful info. Are you gonna say something, or do I have to keep speaking to this wall?"

"Oh, um," she looked away from the two animatronics and down at her hands, dragging her thumb over one of the many scratches she had just given herself, "yes, I... know her. Remember how I said that there were other animatronics here before you, Chica, Yenndo, and Bonnet? This is one of them."

"Really? But I thought you said they all got… like, sent to the scrapyard, so to speak." Lolbit looked back up at Baby. "Well, with the state you're in, I guess it does look like you've been in one."

"Do you want another hook hand, half-pint?"

"Okay, listen,"

"Could you two just—"

There was a knock at the door of Ballora's Gallery before it swung right open and loudly hit the wall.

"We're coming in!"

Funtime Chica waltzed right in, Yenndo and Bonnet quietly trailing behind her.

"Great," Ballora mumbled. She knew it was foolish to hope that the others wouldn't hear the racket, but she had done so anyway.

"Oh, nobody told me we have a guest over! We don't get many of those around here."

"Is that what the employees were dragging in earlier?" Yenndo asked.

"Seems a bit intimidating, if you ask me," Bonnet commented.

Her puppeteer nodded in agreement. "Very intimidating."

This was a lot. Ballora was used to close to nothing interesting happening both night and day. Now a bunch of things was happening all at once.

Every animatronic in the facility was present, plus one that she didn't expect to ever see again during her existence.

She had questions. Many questions.

And all of the newer animatronics clearly did too.

The air was overcrowded with noise. Too much noise.

Far too much.

She was being overwhelmed again.

"Okay, can everybody just shut up for a second?!"

The space fell silent.

"Thank you. Nobody's going to get any answers if you're all trying to speak over each other." Ballora walked back over to Baby. "And you, you better explain yourself. I...I..."

She didn't finish her sentence. She couldn't while others were listening in.