*Author's Note: This story takes a very long time to set up and also takes place after the entire FNAF timeline, so there will probally be no characters from FNAF in here that are not OCs.*
The Lab.
It was an underground bunker, hidden away from the average eye. Research papers and documents littered the floor. Test tubes were carefully placed into their metallic holders as a beaker next to it boiled. The stairs further down led to the wedding room. A furnace, melting pot, and various tools lay about in the room. A noticable acid stain is still bubbling on the ground.
Suddenly, the doors opened.
The man walked into the room, wearing a scientist coat. The chemical apron covered his entire body, almost as if he was wearing a trench coat. As he navigated down the steps, the clang renosates through out the room. He glanced at the knife, still laying on the floor. He had no use for this one. It wasn't his, anyways. The gun however, was. He picked it up and put it in his pouch, which nestled in with the other items on his utility belt.
He picked up a gauntlet lying on the ground. It was grey and metal, with glowing spikes around it, almost as if a spiked braclet was attached to it. t had fallen off during the struggle.
A voice echoed down the halls. It wasn't very ominous or low, but rather a more welcoming voice, as if the person had known him.
"What are you doing down there?"
"Just testing a little experiment, Ichabod," he said. He said this not vehemently, but rather calm, as he put on the gauntlet.
