Two years had passed since the world ended. In the desolate landscape, the makeshift house that served as a sanctuary for the animatronics had evolved. It had grown larger, more fortified, and more structured. Much of this progress was thanks to the tireless work of William Afton, the enigmatic Springtrap, who had taken it upon himself to enhance their refuge.
The house was now a sprawling mix of metal and wood, with interconnected rooms and hallways that stretched further than before. The animatronics had their own spaces, each customized to suit their needs and personalities. Despite their distrust of Afton, they couldn't deny the improvements he had brought to their home. Yet, the unease lingered, as did the mystery of his project.
William Afton was still locked away in his workshop, his obsession with his project growing more intense by the day. The sounds of metal clanging and tools being thrown echoed through the halls. His screams and roars of frustration were a common occurrence, sending chills down the spines of the animatronics who heard them.
Afton's mentality was clear: he believed that no one would help him, and that he had to rely solely on himself. He never asked for help, and any offers of assistance were met with cold rejection. His fierce independence and determination were both his strength and his curse. He was driven by something deeper than mere survival—a need to create, to build, and perhaps to atone for his past sins in some twisted way.
Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy watched from a distance, their curiosity mingled with apprehension. They had grown used to Afton's outbursts, but the intensity of his work was unsettling. They could only speculate about what he was trying to achieve. Freddy, the unofficial leader of the group, often held meetings to discuss their concerns, but they were always left with more questions than answers.
Golden Freddy, or Cassidy, remained the most skeptical. She kept a close eye on Afton, her desire for vengeance never fully quenched. Yet, even she recognized the improvements he had made to their home, and the uneasy peace they had managed to maintain.
One evening, as the animatronics settled into their routines, a particularly loud crash echoed from Afton's workshop. The sound was followed by a guttural roar and a string of curses. Freddy, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, decided to approach. He knocked on the heavy metal door of the workshop, the sound reverberating through the hall.
"William," Freddy called out, his voice calm but firm. "Is everything alright in there?"
There was a moment of silence before Afton's voice, low and strained, answered. "Leave me be, bear. I don't need your help."
Freddy hesitated. "We're all in this together, whether you like it or not. If there's something we can do—"
"I said, leave me be!" Afton's voice was a snarl, and Freddy could hear the sound of something heavy being thrown across the room.
Freddy sighed, stepping back. He knew better than to push Afton when he was in one of his moods. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to change. Afton's frustration was growing, and whatever he was working on, it was reaching a critical point.
The animatronics continued to live their lives, maintaining the uneasy balance in their makeshift home. They expanded and improved their sanctuary, always wary of the man in the workshop. And as the days turned into weeks, they could only wait and wonder about the outcome of Afton's mysterious project, hoping that it wouldn't bring about their destruction.