Weiss fiddled with the collar of her shirt as she walked away from the cab that dropped her off in front of the large building. It had originally been a strip mall, as evidenced by the faded outlines of words and logos where neon signs had used to hang over the doorways. Now the building only had one doorway in the center of the wall, and above it hung a new sign. It showed the four animated characters the Weiss had seen on the recruitment poster, and underneath them, emblazoned in gold letters: Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

Weiss hurried across the parking lot and stepped onto the curb outside the building. She stopped as she caught her reflection in one of the windows. She adjusted the collar of her red polo that had been issued to her by Fazbear. She had paired it with blue jeans and white sneakers - sensible, but still sophisticated. On the other hand, Myrtenaster, its belt, and the several vials of dust she had also included with her ensemble stuck out severely. Weiss felt strange carrying her rapier while wearing such a casual outfit. It almost made her uneasy, like she was more vulnerable than usual. Again she wondered why her job would want her to be so excessively armed.

She stepped in front of the main doors to the establishment and pulled on one of the handles, but the door didn't budge. Weiss deflated a little, concern rising. The man who had called to schedule her training hadn't given her any specific instructions on how to enter the building, and now she was afraid no one would notice her and let her in. As she stood with her arms crossed, she frowned at the sign of the door that read, "We're hard at work building the magic of Freddy Fazbear's!".

After what seemed like hours (but which had in reality only been minutes), someone finally opened the door. He was tall and broad, and - Weiss thought there was simply no better word for it - scruffy, and his arms were covered in some kind of grime - oil, maybe? - and he had a wealth of tools and bits of hardware on his person.

"Sorry about that, the automatic door sensors aren't quite working properly yet." He said, wiping his hand on his already very dirty apron and reaching out to shake Weiss' hand. "'Name's Oak, by the way."

"Weiss," Weiss replied, shaking his strong, callused hand. "This is my first day. Can you tell where I can find the security office?"

"I'll just take you there." Lowering his voice, he added: "Just between you and me, I've been dying for an excuse to get out of Parts and Service all day," Oak said with a chuckle, ruffling his dark green hair.

Weiss looked over at Oak, smiling a little. She didn't know exactly what she had been expecting from her coworkers, but regardless she was happy to know that at least one person was kind and welcoming. But Oak worked in Parts and Services, so she probably wouldn't be seeing him much anyway. As Oak led her through the short entryway and through a set of double doors, Weiss' attention was taken by the room before her.

Although evidence of ongoing construction was scattered about the dining room, it looked to be mostly finished. There were several long tables with many chairs running the length of the room, and the edges of the seating area were lined with arcade cabinets, screens all dark. On the rightmost wall was the prize counter, shelves empty. Next to it was a massive gift box that still had some packaging left on it from shipping. Curiously, two men were wiring it directly into the building. Odd for what she assumed was a decoration for the prize counter. On the left side of the room was a small, semicircular stage, its purple curtains shut tight.

But the real draw was the main stage in the center of the room. It was colorfully lit but sparsely decorated, probably to make room for the three massive animatronics that stood on it. Several heads taller and much wider than any person, their presence loomed over the room. On the left was a cyan bunny, on the right a yellow chicken, and front and center was Freddy Fazbear himself. They had rosy cheeks reminiscent of clowns. All three stood still with their heads down, as though sleeping.

As Weiss and Oak crossed the room, Oak stopped in front of the stage. "These're my babies," he said with pride in his voice. "They're the whole reason this place exists. I love 'em like they're my own children." His smile fell ever so slightly. "Got 'em nearly in tip top shape, just gotta figure out the Foxy mess."

"Foxy?" Weiss turned, confused, toward Oak. None of these characters could possibly be named Foxy, unless the character designers were insane.

"He's in Pirate's Cove," Oak said, nodding toward the small stage on the left. "He got messed up real bad during shipping. I've been piecing him back together for days. I keep the curtains closed 'cuz I wouldn't want anybody seeing me like that."

Weiss scoffed. "I'm sorry, but does Foxy really care about whether people see him or not? He's a robot, I don't think he cares about anything at all."

Oak looked down at Weiss, scratching his chin. "I think once you start to spend more time around these guys," he said, a stern look crossing his face, "you'll find they take on some… personality. Especially at night."

"Whatever," Weiss said, rolling her eyes as Oak turned away from the stage and toward the hallway leading toward more of the pizzeria. It was rather wide, and through several open doorways Weiss could see rooms set up for private parties. There was one room that had a door, open to reveal workbenches and a few larger power tools.

Oak pointed toward the open door. "That's my office, so to speak. Yours is down at the very end of the hall. I'll be in here if y'all need anything." Oak began to turn away from Weiss.

"Wait, you're leaving? Who's going to train me?" Weiss said, a hint of panic entering her voice.

Oak turned back toward her. "Mike will, he's the head security officer. Don't worry, he's a real fun guy." Oak turned back toward the open door with a wave and headed inside, leaving Weiss alone in the checkered tile hallway.

Weiss took a deep breath and walked confidently to the large doorway at the end of the hall. The security office was quite large and dominated by a metal desk in the middle of the room. The desk had several clunky monitors set haphazardly on it, wires spewing out their backs and trailing onto the floor. Behind them was a man hunched over a notebook. He had unruly brown hair and was wearing a deep purple security uniform.

"Excuse me-"

The man's head shot up, his eyes meeting hers. He stared directly into her, and she felt an immense discomfort, but she did not break eye contact. Even though his eyes were set back deep in his skull with massive bags, there was an edged fire inside of them. It didn't help that his skin was deathly pale with severe bruises in many places. All in all, he gave off a supremely unnerving vibe that made Weiss begin to regret her choice in employment.

"What do you want?" he said pointedly, his pen held perfectly still in his hand. He didn't quite glare at her, but Weiss got the distinct impression that he would much rather not be talking to her right now.

"I'm your new hire, Weiss Schnee," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "And I believe it's customary that one begins a conversation with a stranger with 'Hello, nice to meet you, what's your name?' rather than immediately accosting them." Weiss couldn't keep the sarcasm from oozing into her voice.

The man looked down at his watch, the vitriol leaving his expression. "Oh sorry, I lost track of the time." He dropped his pen and ran his hands through his hair, making it look decidedly worse. "I'm Mike," he said as he stood up and walked over to Weiss. "I'll be your boss, and I'll also be training you."

"Wonderful, I look forward to working with you." Weiss stuck out her hand expectantly. Mike glanced down at it, and reluctantly shook it. His grip was strong, but his skin was ice cold. He hastily shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

"So," Mike sniffed, "presuming by that wicked-looking sword you're toting around, you're a Huntress."

"Huntress in training, actually. I'm a student at Beacon."

"Uh, yeah, whatever." Mike seemed distracted, like he was thinking hard about something else even while talking to Weiss. He walked back over the desk and rifled through a few of the papers scattered on it. "Um, let's see… you indicated that you can work weekends and nights. That's perfect since I need to be here during the day anyway."

It was at this point that she registered that Mike spoke with a hint of an Atlesian old-money accent. Strange. I wonder how he ended up here.

Mike was now bent over, pulling open drawers in the desk, searching. He tossed a heavy looking flashlight onto the desk with a loud clank, followed by a shiny gold badge. Finally he slammed the drawers shut and stood back up. He was holding a purple vest that matched the color of his uniform.

"We'll get you a proper security uniform eventually, but for now you'll just have to wear the vest." He grabbed the flashlight and badge from the desk and bundled them in the vest, then handed them to Weiss. "About your equipment: Always make sure to wear your vest and badge while on duty, and always make sure your flashlight has working batteries. Always." He emphasized the last always with a pointed look.

"Ok," Weiss frowned slightly, "really big emphasis on the flashlight batteries," she muttered under her breath.

If Mike had heard her comment, he was choosing to ignore her. "Now your other essential equipment is these computers." He walked around to the other side of the desk, pointing at the monitors as he did so. Weiss noticed that his shoulder seemed to move in a funny way, like he injured it a long time ago and it hadn't healed quite right. As she looked closer, it seemed like all of his joints moved similarly. She also went around the desk so that she could see the monitors.

"These computers display camera feeds for the whole building. Since you're gonna be on night shift and there won't be guests, you can pretty much just sit in her the whole time and watch the building through the cameras. They cover both the rooms and the vents."

"The vents? Why do you need cameras in the vents?" Weiss asked, puzzled.

"Eh, raccoons 'n such. More of an insurance thing than anything," Mike said dismissively as he waved a hand. "Basically, you just need to make sure that nobody breaks in and steals stuff and the animatronics don't damage anything in the building or themselves."

"Um, I'm sorry, did you say the anima-"

Weiss was cut off short when Oak yelled from inside Parts and Service. Mike took off, sprinting down the hallway. Weiss ran to follow him. When she got into Parts and Service, she found Mike holding Oak's arm, examining it. There was a deep gash that was oozing blood. Her first aid training kicked in, and she went to the other side of the room to grab what appeared to be a clean towel. As she did, she noticed that there was another animatronic sitting on the table behind Oak and Mike. It looked completely different from the ones she had seen on the stage. It was taller, lankier, and dull in color. Its fur-like shell had many holes, through which she could see its steel endoskeleton. As she hurried back towards Mike and Oak and handed Mike a towel, she saw that on its right hand, it had a pirate's hook.

Its sharp end dripped with blood.