Right... Sorry about the lack of chapter last week, guys. Holidays kinda sucked up all my time. In exchange, here; have an extended chapter with a fair bit of exposition and (what I think at least) is a pretty decent action sequence.

Sad to say it, but there's only one chapter and the epilogue left to this particular story. I'm aiming to have them both done next week, and have a Christmas special uploaded on the last Friday before Christmas. After that, I'm taking five for the holidays and getting back to writing in January, with two stories.

First, a full-blown rework of Into the Rift, with more of a focus on action and high-octane combat sequences than exposition and backstory, so keep an eye out for that.

Second... I'm happy to announce Five Nights at Freddy's 2: Free Roam, the next in my Alex Redding series. It will be based around the events of FNaF 2, except as a sequel instead of a prequel. I've got a lot of ideas brewing for it, so really looking forward to bringing that to y'all!

And of course, possibly the occasional one-shot if I don't have the time/energy/ideas for a chapter of the two mainstays. The update schedule will stay the same; every Friday, a new something goes live, with the most common being alternating chapters of my two mainstay stories.

Anyway, that's enough rambling from me. On with the show!

I shook my head as I looked over the building. It had been around a week since I'd decided to start poking around Golden Mile a bit more. I remembered the first time I'd tried to get in… It hadn't ended well. The guards here were stubborn about people having ID passes for everywhere they went… Ah well. It looked like their pattern was fairly simple; everyone – including the guards, oddly – was out by around 5:30. Apparently they had some time-locks, since I couldn't get the doors open any time after 6… So I had a half-hour window to get in and start searching the area.

I checked over the things I'd brought; I had twin collapsible batons, a weapon I was intricately familiar with. They were strapped onto my thighs, ready for me to pull out and put to use. I had a can of mace on my belt to deal with any further attackers, a taser for any minor robotic issues, and my Python in case things go downhill fast. With a smirk, I donned my coat and watched the building. 5:29… 5:30. The last car pulled out and drove away and I headed for their warehouse.

The doors were unlocked, and I slipped easily in, looking around. It was pretty typical; animatronics lined the floor near a loading dock, several robot skeletons laying on work tables – some of them still half opened with tools in them, oddly – under bright lights, and to my shock a full weapon's rack. Granted it was locked, but still… That was suspicious, to say the least. I shrugged it off and started heading upstairs, towards the main office. Halfway up, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched… I gripped my baton, turning slowly around…

Nothing. Not even a robot had turned to look at me. Shrugging it off as nerves, I headed into the main office and started poking around. Seemed fairly straightforward; two entrances at the top of staircases on opposite sides of the building, a row of file cabinets – many of which were locked – on the back wall next to a few computer terminals, and several assorted files and documents scattered around. There was also a large window overlooking the production floor, complete with a control panel. I started hunting through the exposed files, deciding not to look into the terminal until I needed to.

Around ten minutes later, I'd gone through most of the loose files on the desk and was now starting to think. Golden Mile had stepped up their production, even though the market for entertainment robotics seemed to have shrunk after the Drone Incident. Speaking of which, I had found a rather large file complete with copies of every witness report, every crime scene photo, and every last shred of data on the attack and on speculation. Apparently they'd put two and two together and come up with the fact that Golden Freddy, their command and tactics robot, had re-enabled his combat protocols for his own ends.

That would explain why they wanted the robots found… They probably didn't care too much about the others; they wanted Golden Freddy. Sure enough, another file had confirmed that the 'original four' were to be scrapped – something that made me nearly tear the paper from anger – and to 'dismantle and diagnose' what had happened to 'Specimen GF'. So they wanted to find out what went wrong and make sure it never happened again. Admirable, but kind of silly. Two more files left…

I opened the file and looked it over, nearly dropping it when I first saw what it was titled. 'G. Mile Com-Bots, 2014'. What in the… I set the file down, starting to pore over the contents. There wasn't much there; most of it was referencing a 'buyer', and a surprising number of combat-ready drones. There was also a printed e-mail conversation between what I believed to be the CEO and my good friend, Matthews.

Sir – hired the detective, gave him his job. Should have the missing bots back in our hands before trial day.

Excellent work. Did you offer him the extra for finding them in time?

Yes sir. He sprung on it.

Wonderful. And the bonus should he recover GF?

Yes.

That lousy little… He was supposed to offer me extra for bringing Gold in? The next e-mail took place a few days later.

Sir – still no luck enabling the GPS units. Faz is being uncooperative regarding how to enable them. Your orders?

Leave Faz alone. Focus on the detective and our contact.

Yes, Sir. They say they can recover the confiscated robotics if we provide transport.

Do it.

So Golden Mile stole the robots… can't say I'm surprised, but that leaves me scratching my head as to why. Maybe they wanted to recover all of the animatronics? Put Fazbear Entertainment in a bad light? I glanced through the rest of the file and set it aside. Not much else interesting there; just a handful of schematics and cost analysis sheets regarding combat robotics. The last file was even less helpful; it contained exactly three papers. One was discussing their new line of combat robots and their 'Friend-Or-Foe active systems' and 'Unarmed or live-fire combat efficiency'. The second one was just a brochure for their entertainment robots. The third…

I got a chill as I saw the word 'EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS' written on the top, and glanced over it. Apparently they hadn't gotten all the bugs worked out of the friend-or-foe systems, and had a hard-locked 6 PM-Midnight 'patrol time' where they were to be active on free-roam, hunting for any intruders to be contained. The paper said that being captured and contained by one of these things was grounds for termination from the company. It also said there was a recording in the main control console should anyone get stuck in the warehouse after 6 PM, when the building was supposed to automatically lock down.

I checked the time; 5:55. I had around five minutes to get out of here… But there was clearly data on that computer terminal, and I wanted to find out everything I could so I wouldn't have to come back another time and risk another run-in. Plus, my curiosity was now fully piqued. So, with my pocket recorder clicked on, I hit the 'play' button on the terminal recorder. A voice began to speak to me, sounding gruff and… A tiny bit nervous?

"Hello. If you're hearing this, it means you broke the rules and got caught in the building after 6 PM. First off; you're fired, so when the place unlocks at midnight, get your stuff and get out. We'll formally process the information later… But you've got more important problems than just finding a new job right now. So listen up and maybe you'll live to see your pink slip."

This… Wasn't good. It sounded like the recordings when I was working at the old pizzeria…

"A bit of background. The new robotics that Golden Mile executive has us building are state of the art. We're talking Robocop meets Terminator here; they'll find their target, and heaven help whoever he is – and whoever gets in their way. Just one problem; they're not quite sure how to tell a noncombatant apart from their current target at the moment… And they're locked into a 6 PM to Midnight 'active patrol' pattern or something. So basically, they see you and they'll 'detain' you. And by detain, we mean tear you limb from limb and crush your skull like a grape."

Ah, geez… Not this again. I quickly pulled my batons free, unfolding them and getting ready.

"Now, these guys aren't fully armored so you might have a shot at fighting one or two off, but at last count we had at least thirty operational combat drones, all searching for your head. So we've made a few arrangements; they shouldn't come up to the office unless they hear something, so you should be mostly safe… But if one comes up and you can't find a place to hide, then hit one of the security blast doors. That'll keep one or two of 'em out without a problem."

I grinned, looking over the door buttons. Just like that week… Wait, one or two?

"Problem is, once one of them realizes that someone's in there, they'll sit by that door and start trying to tear it open. And that makes a lot of racket… We've had the doors rated for at least five drones per door. Eventually one or two would get bored, but don't get me wrong; they'll keep coming. The building stays locked down until midnight, when the night shift guard comes in and sits on this place until work starts again."

Great… So instead of conserving power, I've got to keep quiet.

"One last thing. If you trigger the alarms, every robot in the place is gonna swarm that office and start baying for your blood. By the time emergency services get to you, you'll be lucky if there's even a red smear left. So sit tight, stay quiet, don't hit the alarms and start thinking of a new job. Good luck." Click.

I swore to myself, turning to look at the clock… Just as it turned to 6 PM. I swore again, looking over the building. Slowly, I saw every last one of the functional robots come online, their eyes glowing a menacing red as they stood and began patrolling the floor with stocky, metallic steps. They hadn't seen me, but I'd rather not run the risk… Time to sit tight. Meanwhile…

I turned and looked at the computer terminal, firing it up and starting to look over what data I could access. I'd learned a few hacking tips from Adams, and quickly had the machine dancing to my tune as I glossed over the files. Seemed to be mostly the same things I'd found in the folders, but there were two additional documents… One was labelled 'New Orders – Classified' and the other was 'TOP SECRET – Currently known MIAs'. I opened the former first.

Slowly, my eyes went over the contents of the document and I swore under my breath. Oh, Golden Mile had enabled their combat robotics again – and were selling the lousy things to the highest bidder. Corrupt dictators, drug kings, scum of the earth… No wonder they didn't want the authorities looking at this place too closely. The instant they did, they'd be on trial for treason and trafficking illegal arms. Almost hesitantly, I opened the second file…

And swore again as I read through it. An incident report, apparently for the CEO.

Sir…

I was unable to locate the four original animatronics, nor was I able to confirm their destruction after the Drone Incident. We had a lead on the four that were recovered by the local police, and I sent a retrieval agent to recover the drones for analysis and destruction. However, upon arriving to the location the retrieval agent reported that the animatronics were no longer in police custody, and that they had been stolen from evidence a few days prior.

We have no leads on the thief, and no evidence or ideas on motive for their theft. We also cannot confirm or deny rumors that they may have been reactivated somewhere else.

We are currently having agents examine all possible leads on their location, as well as the private investigator searching for the originals. Should we locate one or the other, they will in all likelihood lead us to the rest.

Any further orders?

-Matthews

I swore once more. So Golden Mile didn't steal the bots? That… Made no sense at all. Who would want them? And moreover, what would they do with a set of four murderous animatronics? Quickly, I copied both of these files over and sent them to a small flash drive I had in my pocket, tugging it out and powering the computer down. So Golden Mile was in it up to their ears… But then again, I wasn't going to be escaping anytime soon.

I glanced at the alarm briefly. That warning was for technicians and workers, not for highly trained ex-SWAT officers. Especially not ones with experience dealing with murderous robots… On the other hand, I'd told Freddy and the others to come running if I didn't call in by 7. At that point, they'd probably just smash the door in and get me out, no authorities necessary. What to do, what to do…

As I pondered my choice, I glanced up – right into the glowing eyes of one of the robots, standing at the security door. He stared me down for a long second, before immediately beginning to sound a siren. I swore, charging over and slamming the security door shut. I could hear him pounding on it, and looking out the window I saw more robots approaching those stairs – rapidly. Looks like my hand was forced… But I can make things a bit easier on my end, at least. Grabbing the emergency recorded tape, I slammed the door myself a moment, trying to make as much noise as I could.

It worked; the robots were charging the left-side doorway with everything they had… Over half of them were now on those stairs, slamming and smashing into the door as it began to bend and dent inwards. I watched on… Ten… Fifteen… Twenty of them were now banging against it, causing the hinges to creak nastily. I'd have to time this perfectly if this was going to work… Twenty-five bots slammed against it all at once, and the old door could handle no more and smashed in, sending them all sprawling in a pile. I bolted out the other door, batons in hand.

My plan had worked; all of the bots were on the left stairs, and I had a free run down the right side and barreled my way towards the exit door. These weren't some remote-controlled mechanical murderers; they had a programmed pattern… I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice there was an extra, half-damaged one standing between me and the exit until I slammed headlong into it. I groaned, pulling my batons out and sighing. So much for leaving quick… It started to sound its siren, and I came down with a double-swing to its head, caving in the robotic skull with one fell swoop. It collapsed and I headed for the exit as fast as I could.

Only to find that the door was locked up tight. I swore, trying to kick and smash it open, no luck. Desperate, I slammed my baton into the glass, trying to shatter a window and escape… It spiderwebbed, but didn't break. Not even a chip. Sighing, I turned to face the robots. Sure enough, they had all managed to get themselves together and were now heading my way. I dropped into a combat stance.

Here we go…

The first pair charged me, hands grasping and trying to get a hold of my shirt. I brought the batons down on their elbow joints, shattering the coverings and sending the servos whirring in protest. A solid kick to the chest of one forced it back, and I grabbed ahold of the 'skull' of the other and gave it a healthy twist, snapping its neck. A baton swing sent its head off, bouncing against the wall and falling still. Another few came rushing towards me, and I dodged underneath one of the work tables before flipping it onto them, assorted tools and devices slamming them down to the ground. One grabbed hold of my coat, pulling me in and throwing a punch; I dodged, countering with an upwards swing that dislocated the bot's jaw and sent it reeling.

I turned to face another one, slamming the batons down on its shoulders and bringing the machine to its knees, following it up with a rising knee kick that laid it out flat on the ground. Two more approached and I forced the batons into their open jaws, slamming in and shattering what I hoped were valuable components within their skulls. One of them leaped at me, trying to tackle – I dodged to the side, coming down on the base of its neck with a swing…

Its neck cracked, but nothing else seemed to happen. That's when I remembered; these things don't have control chips. They're dumb AI, running on simple programs… And those programs had them trying to kill me.

I caught another one in a roundhouse kick, bringing it to the ground and curb stomping it right where I assumed its central power supply was. It went down and the glow in its eyes died, causing the others to screech out and charge harder and faster. It was like an undead attack; I had to think fast. I dodged behind another work table, before stashing my batons for a moment and grabbing ahold of it – right before another murderbot grabbed hold of me and pulled me in, its jaw gaping as it leaned close to try and bite my face off. I grabbed a screwdriver on the table, slamming the point of it through its skull. It fell to the ground and lay still.

Grabbing the table once more, I lowered my head and charged through a small crowd of them, bowling them over and into each other as they fell into a heap of screeching, strained metal. Tugging the batons back out, I smashed the knee joint of another one that was grabbing hold of my coat, following it up with another solid boot to the chest. Apparently it was enough to dislodge the power supply, as it fell and shut down. I was winning thus far, but the strikes were starting to wear on me – I was flesh and blood, and I got tired. I grunted as one landed a solid punch to my side, sending me sprawling out against one table. Thinking fast, I grabbed a power drill and forced it into the bot's eye socket and out the back. I rolled off of the table, kicking down another rampaging machine before putting my new toy to work, drilling into its chest and frying the power supply.

This seemed to tick one of them off, and they made their distaste for my methods known by barreling me into another table, hands around my neck and squeezing tightly. I flailed for a moment, before grinning triumphantly as I grabbed hold of a shop light on the desk. I slammed it down bulb first, shattering it on the machine's head and immediately sending an electric current through its processor, shutting it down quickly and easily.

I concentrated for a moment, looking around to see if there were any others, and swore. Two of the robots were dragging off their fallen comrades to a corner of the warehouse... As well as what looked like a healthy pile of robot parts. My eyes widened as they started working on repairing their fallen comrades, before narrowing once more.

Oh, this would not do.

I tugged my revolver free, took aim for the power supply in the back of one of them, and squeezed off a shot. It struck true and ricocheted off, leaving little more than a mark. It seemed to do the job however, as one of the two repair machines turned and began charging me. I charged back towards it, before baseball sliding under its angry lunge, coming upwards with a double-baton strike to the power casing. It was powered down by the time it hit the ground. Thinking quickly, I jumped back to my feet and kicked the other repair bot in the back, tossing one baton around its neck and starting to pull. I stomped on its back a bit, tugging and struggling until its head popped clean off.

Turning quickly, I saw three more of them charging me, and started to fall back. I tripped over a few, letting the fastest of the three charge me and start trying to tear my head off. I groaned, groping around for and finding my taser, slamming it into the bot's neck and squeezing the trigger. It screamed out before falling, smoking lightly. The other two seemed unaffected, one grabbing hold of me around the waist while the other picked up a small power saw and approached me. I slammed the taser into the one at my middle, frying it out quickly before bringing a baton swing into the back of the saw robot's knee, forcing it down to one knee just long enough for me to smash another swing into its hands, forcing that saw into its own skull.

Another charged, I retreated. I grabbed hold of an old water bottle on one desk and gave it a shake, grinning triumphantly as I heard it slosh; nearly full… And one robot was coming at me right now to put it to use. It screeched in my face, and I upended the bottle down its throat. It whirred, screeched, and sparks jumped from it for a long moment before its head simply exploded, sending fragments everywhere. I swore as one embedded itself in my arm, drawing blood. I started backing away, my right arm now bleeding profusely and nearly useless in combat…

And then the front door caved in as Freddy introduced his foot to the lock, and the gang poured in. "ALEX!" Foxy yelled, rushing to my side and wrapping her good arm around me. It was at that time I noticed how painful my leg felt. I looked down, groaning as I saw half a saw blade embedded in the calf. "Let's… Get out…!" I managed to groan out in pain. The others nodded, providing a nice distraction as Foxy carried me out, followed by Chica and Bonnie. Freddy stuck around a bit longer to throw one powered down combat robot into a group of the others before following, piling into the truck. Freddy jumped behind the wheel while Foxy and Chica attended to my injuries, wrapping them as best they could. Meanwhile, I hunted for and grabbed my phone with my left hand.

Slowly, the pain was beginning to subside now that the shrapnel was no longer embedded in me; turns out, Chica's a good nurse as well as a good cook, and I was at least stitched up and cleaned up. All the while, I was coming up with a plan… A wonderful, cunning plan. I grinned and explained it to the others, who agreed to it. With a smile, I dialed Matthews' number.

"Hey, Matthews? It's Detective Redding. Get yourself down to my house, come alone. I've found your missing robots."

Uh-oh... What's Alex up to? Guess you'll have to wait a week to find out!

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