Chapter Text
Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex loomed intimidatingly in the pre-dusk haze, garish neon lights refracting off pooling rainwater collected in the desolate parking lot. A motorbike and sparse collection of cars broke up the isolation, a lone figure dismounting the bike and looking up at the sprawling structure. Their face was unreadable behind the visor of their helmet, still as they removed it, combing their fingers through tousled hair. He tucked his helmet into the seat compartment of his bike and tossed his overnight bag over his shoulder before returning his steely gaze to his new long-term project. He set his shoulders, no matter what, there was no looking back from this.
—
Two weeks prior…
To say Oliver was surprised when an old name appeared in his inbox was an understatement, even more so whenever he read the subject and bottom line. The audacity of his old partner to reach out to him after five years over a pitiful buyout restoration? She certainly knew he was far too overqualified to be reprogramming song-and-dance tin cans. And who was she to try and ask a favor after their…complicated history. However, scanning through her scarce message, he hated to admit: he was curious. Mostly about the sheer amount of money she was willing to pay for him signing on long-term. His contacts had suffered dearly after their sudden separation, and, well. A few things peaked his interest,
I know this is unexpected, and I wouldn’t be reaching out if I didn’t think it were absolutely necessary to have the best in Advanced AI and Robotics working on this. The project specifics are classified, but I promise if you would even consider coming in and seeing what we’re working with, you won’t be able to walk away. I would be willing and able to give you authority over the project and relative facilities. I hope to be hearing from you soon, Oliver. Please, you won’t regret it.
In the ten years he’d known Dr. Diana Fetts, she had never once said please.
—
Present day
Diana hadn’t changed much since the last time Oliver had seen her, at least from what he could tell from where she sat stiffly in her overstuffed office chair across from him. Not a hair was out of place, her blouse freshly pressed and her fingernails perfectly polished and free of the grease that he could never quite scrub out. You would never think her doctorate would be in Advanced Robotics, like his, when she looked like she’d never gotten her hands dirty in her life. “You look nice.” He couldn’t quite keep the chilliness out of his greeting, watching her straighten even more in her seat if it was possible. She cleared her throat, offering a thin smile, “I, thank you for agreeing to come in, even under your…requirements.”
Even with a polite smile, there was no kindness in his correction, “It’s just an appraisal period,” Oliver leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, he’d cut her a little slack, “I know you said that the nitty gritty details are “classified”,” He made air quotes with his fingers, “But I feel like I should at least be able to observe the AI on a surface level, and maybe run a few simple interactive trials to see what I’d really be working with.” He glanced around her office, eyeing her accolades critically, “As you know, I actually like knowing what I’m getting into before I sign.”
Their eyes locked for a tense second.
Diana looked away, down at her clasped hands, “Absolutely,” She looked back up to him, a determination crossing her face before she stood, “I would request that either way. The AIs are, honestly, truly incredible.” She held out her hand to the other doctor to shake, which he did with a healthy dose of skepticism, as he stood to follow her.
She led him out of her private office and towards the main atrium, a true monolith of neon and sticky movie theater carpeting as she spoke, “I’ve never seen anything like it, you’ll have to see it for yourself to understand what I mean, but-” She looked at him, considering, “You’ll just have to see it.”
Their steps echoed ominously as they passed rudimentary staff bots, nothing to write home about in Oliver’s opinion, and honestly a bit eerie, the auto tracking sensors following them unerringly as they continued on. “If you accept the full time position, your focus would be assessing their firewalls and breaking down the evolution of the AI. You’ll most likely be focusing on the Daycare Attendant, it’s the most complex out of all the units.” Oliver’s nose scrunched a bit distastefully at the mention of a “Daycare Attendant”, he wasn’t the fondest of children, and didn’t know if he could handle being patronized by a lullaby automaton, but he would give Diana a shot if she was so fired up about it.
“I see. Well, let’s get this going, before you oversell it.” Diana huffed half-heartedly, but she had a spark in her eyes, like she knew something he didn’t.
…Maybe she didn’t quite oversell it.
Animatronics meandered like people do, chatting and tuning instruments on stage. It was clear that the staff and caution bots had a basic task oriented functionality, but the fluidity of organic interaction? That was incredibly advanced, if were more than a pre-programmed facsimile, but the night would tell. Diana cleared her throat, catching the lead musician-er, bear’s-attention, “Freddy! Good evening, I would like to introduce you to, hopefully, a new member of our team, Dr. Oliver Marlowe.” She tossed said man a sardonic smile of her own at his displeased look to her introduction, but he brushed it off to accept the paw offered to him. Finding himself impressed by the pressure sensory response he assumed was integrated into their hardware. “A pleasure to meet you, doctor! Are you touring the Plex? You would be our second doctor,” He seemed to grin if it were possible, “I hope we meet your standards.”
Oh, Diana definitely ratted Oliver out to the bear, or they can access her email communication - which was a concerning thought he would be elaborating on later, “I hope so too.” Oliver replied smoothly, he couldn’t deny he was intrigued now, more so when the other animatronics seemed to have their own greetings or rebuffs for him, the Gator being particularly gruff, so the personal intonations weren’t a pre-designed. He was starting to see why such an outwardly drab project had grabbed Diana’s curiosity in a vice grip. He shared a few more banal pleasantries and studiously watched the band kick off a set before wordlessly turning to Diana and gesturing they move on. He had a feeling he would be allotting plenty of time to these robots.
They passed the various attractions, Bonnie Bowl, and a handful of kiosks, with Diana briefly taking a detour to show Oliver the “Performer Green Rooms”, to which he looked at her incredulously. She shrugged, “They decorated them themselves. It’s fascinating, right?” He opened his mouth, closing it again when he came up empty on a snappy rapport. She was right, it wasn’t just fascinating, it was unprecedented. Individuality? Personality? The desire to possess personal space and privacy? His thoughts were running a mile a minute, and his fingers twitched with the urge to understand. Instead, he tucked his hands into his pockets and glanced back towards the main area and the escalators, “There are more animatronics, right?” Diana’s eyes crinkled with the weight of her smile, she knew she had him, “Right this way.”
The DJ robot was fucking terrifying, and that was just a fact. A giant spider? Their designer was both a genius and a sadist. He’d see that animatronic crawling toward him in his nightmares, Oliver was sure, but they were finally making their way toward the daycare. Diana had been concerningly tightlipped about why she’d put this robot off for last. He knew she knew she had him. He was feeling a jittery mixture of giddy and annoyed by the time they finally pushed through the double doors into the brightly colored play space.
A brief flutter of curtains caught his attention, focusing on the castle balcony spaced inconveniently high up the smooth golden walls. Diana called out “Oh Sun!” in a playful voice, and suddenly the curtains opened with a flourish. The flaxen figure leapt off the ledge and ripped a shout out of the engineer, rushing a few steps forward before the - of course this was the animatronic - Sun themed bot launched itself gracefully from the ballpit to land in front of the duo with a theatrical bow. Oliver’s breath stuttered in his chest as, Sun, Diana called it, stood back to its full height, easily at least three feet taller than him. He’s starting to think their original creator had some sort of size…thing with the stature of these bots. “Hello, Hello, hello! Dr. Diana, have you brought a new best friend?” The animatronic’s tone was boisterous, swaying on his feet like a bubbly metronome while his uncanny gaze seemed to be taking Oliver in curiously.
Dr. Diana, he had to fight to not roll his eyes, looked at the robot mischievously before chirping, “I sure have, your new best friend,” Oliver’s head whipped to Diana, “That is, if you can impress him enough to stay.” She tsked, putting on a faux despondent air, and maybe Oliver would say fuck the project just to spite her, in this moment, “He’s really on the fence, he doesn’t know how special you can be.”
The sunny bot seemed to wilt empathetically - which, what - before squaring his shoulders, with a full 360 degree rotation of his torso, and turning to fully face the engineer, “Well sir, if a show is what you want, you’ve come to the right place! The Superstar Daycare has the best-best-best entertainment! You're a little old for puppet shows, but you can never go wrong with arts and crafts, or pillow forts, or-” Oliver held up a single hand, stopping the animatronic’s rambling in surprise.
The engineer slowly circled the animatronic, brows furrowing as the bot’s head continued to face him unerringly, a fully individually articulated endoskeleton. Sun’s bells jangled, uncertain, looking to Diana for help when Oliver suddenly stepped into it’s space to prod at the sun’s chest. Sun covered the spot affronted, “Even children know it’s impolite to touch people without permission!” He sounded offended, and Oliver had the decency to look properly sheepish, “You’re right,” but that analytical edge never left his silver gaze, “but it’s interesting that you have independent articulation without damaging that silicone coating, is it medical grade?” At this, the robot puffed up a bit, but he still had a perturbed ambience about him, “It’s also impolite to not introduce yourself, you know,” he mumbled, poutily acquiescing, “It is.” Despite the tone, Oliver smiled, calmly holding out his hand, “You’re right, I am being rude. Sorry,” He shrugged one shoulder with a quirk of his mouth, “I guess I’m not used to…” Oliver hesitated, would calling it a project offend it? Him? “Advanced technology talking back to me, I guess.” The animatronic’s flares oscillated thoughtfully, “Thank you for your apology. It sounds like you’re here for business, not fun-fun! I’m Sun-Sunny-Sundrop, you can call me what you want, friend! You are?” Oliver nodded in acquiescence, introducing himself as Sun took his hand and shook it in big motions. When he was released, he felt off kilter. The robot, coated in silicone and warm to the touch, felt uncannily…alive. It made sense, but this couldn’t be all. He looked around, gesturing to a couple large foam cylinders, “Do you mind if we sit while I ask you some preliminary questions?”
The robot had a social understanding of pronouns and a sense of gender identity outside of cisgender binary, for one. The he and they were easy enough, but the bot stuttering on a “we” caught his attention, putting it aside mentally to focus on the issue currently sending his brain into a standstill. Sun had offered Oliver one of his large hands to flip between his own, but that wasn’t what was causing panic to skyrocket his heartbeat. He had pinched the sealed silicone between his fingers and the robot had whined an “ow”. A piece of technology had just emitted an involuntary sensory stress response. Like, “...You can feel that?” Oliver rasped, still looking resolutely down at Sun’s hand, that he now had trapped between his. “Of course! You’d feel it too, if I pinched you!” Sun grumped, rays slouching warily when Oliver’s shoulders tightened, “...Yeah.” He finally looked up.
Directly at Diana. Neurosensory exoskeletons, artificial nociceptors…it was his. This technology was all his. And it was what Diana stole from him five years ago.
“What did you do?”