Michael sat at the table next to his Uncle. It was early in the morning, as he was just looking at him. "You want me to go to school?"
Makoto looked at his Nephew as he spoke. "I know it hasn't even been a week since you moved in, but I think you should do your education again".
Michael looked at his uncle as he spoke. He raised an eyebrow. "And you think it's a good idea for him?".
Makoto looked at his Nephew as he continued. "The Village has one school, so every kid here knows each other. I think it would be the best."
Michael thought for a bit as he looked at the mirror, as the Red No. 1 was still on his head, and still could only be seen by him and Rika.
Makoto continues seeing the unease in Michael's face, coming to the wrong conclusion, but something that made sense to him. "I understand if you don't wanna do it, you can join, maybe next month, get your time to know people and things like that?".
Michael looked at his Uncle as he spoke. "I will... Think about it".
Later that morning, Michael stood at the school gate, staring at the building like it was a haunted house. The chatter of kids filled the air, but every laugh and shout felt… muted.
Rika leaned casually against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd like she already knew everyone's secrets.
Rika just looked at him as she spoke "You showed up."
Michael looked at her as he continued "Would you rather I didn't?"
Rika sighed as she spoke. "So, why did you come to me?"
Michael just looked at her, as he sat next to her. "You have been stuck in this Death Loop Longer, as you say, so I wanted to ask you, if this was a good idea or not".
Rika looked at him as she spoke. "Well, you will meet a few more important People if you do go to school".
Michael raised an eyebrow at that. "Few more important people?"
Rika's lips curled into a faint smirk, but her eyes stayed unreadable.
"Yeah. The kind of people who can either save you… or make this loop even worse."
Michael leaned back against the wall, watching the flood of students pour in. "That's not exactly comforting."
"It's not supposed to be," Rika replied flatly. She tilted her head, studying him. "You want comfort, go back to pretending this is all normal. You want answers…" She nodded toward the main entrance. "You walk through those doors."
Michael exhaled slowly, his stomach knotting. "And if I don't like the answers?"
Rika's gaze sharpened, almost pitying. "Then you better hope you wake up in the same morning again."
Michael looked at her as he spoke. "My Uncle gave me time, time I will use, I am not enrolled in that school, not yet"
Rika looked at him her eyes narrowing. "And, what if you get killed before that?".
Michael stopped and looked at the 12-year-old Girl, as he continued. "I hope it doesn't happen".
Rika looked at him, as she spoke. "Sooner then Michael, trust me, I thought the same".
Michael's gaze lingered on Rika, her words heavier than they had any right to be coming from someone so young.
Her eyes weren't just narrowed in suspicion — there was something else. Experience. Pain. A kind of maturity no twelve-year-old should have to carry.
"…What happened to you?" he finally asked, voice low.
Rika's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked away, watching the dim light filtering through the cracked blinds. "It's not about what happened to me," she said after a moment. "It's about what will happen to you if you keep thinking you have time."
Michael shifted uncomfortably, leaning back in the chair. "You sound like you've already seen how my story ends."
"I have," Rika murmured, barely audible — but enough for him to catch it.
He froze. "…You wanna run that by me again?"
She met his eyes this time, and the weight in them was undeniable. "You don't have time, Michael. Not the way you think. Something's coming, and if you're not ready…" she hesitated, "…you won't even get the chance to hope."
The air between them grew heavy, silence stretching until it felt like the walls themselves were listening.
Then Rika stood, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. "I'll see you tomorrow. Or maybe I won't."
She walked to the door without another word, leaving Michael alone with a thousand questions and an uncomfortable chill crawling up his spine.
Something in her voice told him she wasn't exaggerating.
Not one bit.
Michael then said something that destroy all the tension between them. "You know, your Creepy, but in a cute way".
Michael spoke in his head. 'Ok, where the hell did that come from?'.
Rika blinked, clearly caught off guard, her suspicious expression faltering.
"...What?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Michael scratched the back of his head, looking away like he'd just accidentally said the quiet part out loud.
"I—I mean… yeah, you've got that 'haunted doll' vibe going on, but like… not in a bad way?"
Rika's lips twitched, as if she was fighting between a smirk and a scowl. "You're weird."
Michael shrugged. "Takes one to know one."
For a moment, the air between them wasn't heavy with warnings and threats—it was just two odd people exchanging odd words. But under that fragile moment of levity, Rika's eyes still held a shadow, as if she knew something Michael didn't… and that time was running faster than he realized.
After a while, Michael returned to his House. As he opened the door, he saw something he didn't expect.
His uncle was taking to woman, as she is a young blonde woman with distinctive "droopy" brown eyes that appear more closed than other characters. She has long blonde hair.
[Insert image of Takano]
Makoto chuckled as she spoke. "Didn't expect to see you in this Village".
The Woman giggled back, as she looked at Makoto. "Will, Makoto, I didn't expect to see you either. How many years has it been?".
Makoto taught for a bit as he spoke. "A few years ago, the last time I saw you was during the early days of Fazbear Family Dinner".
Michael closed the door, as they both stopped talking and looked at him.
Makoto, seeing his Nephew, just got up. "Michael, you're back, didn't expect to see you back this soon".
Michael raised an eyebrow as he looked at the Woman. "Who is this".
Makoto scratched the back of his head as he spoke. "Right, this is Takano, an Old friend of mine, and your dad".
Michael heard the words "Old Fr,iend" and "Dad" didn't feel right. "Really? How do you two know each other?".
Makoto looked at him as he spoke. "She once came to Freddy's Family Dinner, when we were in the middle of replacing the costume Shoot with Herny Animatronic, that's when we met her".
Michael narrowed his eyes, as he continued. "I see".
Takano smiled faintly at Michael, but there was something in her expression—something a little too knowing, a little too amused—that made his skin crawl.
"Well," she said, her tone syrupy sweet, "I didn't expect to meet Makoto's nephew on my little visit here. You look… a lot like someone I used to know."
Michael didn't respond right away. He just stared at her, trying to place why her voice felt like it was wrapping around him, almost probing.
Makoto, seemingly oblivious to the tension, clapped his hands together. "Takano's here on some kind of research trip, right? Something about… folklore?"
Takano's lips curved into a small smirk. "Something like that. The truth hides in the strangest places." Her gaze slid back to Michael, and for a moment, it was like she was looking through him. "Sometimes, it hides in people."
Michael felt a faint chill run down his spine.
"…Right," he muttered.
In his head, though, his thoughts were a little less polite.
Great. Another mysterious person in a creepy village. Because I totally needed more of those.
Rika's warning from earlier echoed in his mind—Sooner than you think, Michael. Trust me.
He suddenly wasn't so sure she'd been exaggerating.
Michael stopped as he spoke. "Why, does your voice sound Familiar?".
Takano looked at him as she spoke. "Probably because you heard before in Fread Fazbear Show Time?".
Michael just blinked as he looked at his Uncle, with a face that said, " Explain.
Makoto sighed as he spoke. "Yeah, remember that show that cartoon that was made by Fazbear Company, really popular in the early days".
Michael then continued. "Yeah, but not the biggest Fan, ironic seeing who my Dad is".
Makoto then continued. "You know how I voiced Freedy, William Foxy, Your Mother voiced Chika".
Michael spoke to him in a kinda blunt tone. "Should have hired actual voice actors".
Makoto just sighed as he spoke. "Ok, fair, but we were small back then, the company that shows on CN was also a small one at the time, ok".
Michael raised a brow. "So… you're telling me my mom was Chika? Like… 'Let's Eat' Chika?"
Takano smirked. "Yep. She even did the voice live at conventions. Kids loved it."
Michael groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Great. Now I have to live with the mental image of my mom in a giant yellow chicken suit."
Makoto chuckled. "Relax, she only wore the suit once. The rest was just voice work."
Michael gave him a look. "Once is enough."
Takano leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee. "You know… if you think about it, your family basically is the Fazbear Cinematic Universe."
Michael sighed, muttering under his breath. "Yeah, a cursed one."
Makoto shrugged. "Eh, could be worse. At least you weren't the poor intern who had to operate Balloon Boy during the live tour."
Michael blinked. "...You?"
Makoto grimaced. "Never again."
Michael looked at Makoto as she spoke. "Where are you playing, Balloon Boy?".
Makoto sighed as he spoke. "Nope, it's whoever we can find to do the Voice for that day?".
Takano smirked as she spoke. "And that's why his voice sounds so different Every EP".
Michael just looked at them as he spoke. "I thought it was because he gets destroyed by the end of every episode, cartoon fashion?".
Makoto let out a short laugh. "That too. Sometimes we don't even bother explaining how he comes back. One episode he's in space, the next he's running a hotdog stand—continuity is optional."
Takano shrugged casually. "Our fanbase stopped asking questions after season two. Now they just place bets on how many times he'll 'die' per episode."
Michael tilted his head, amused. "So basically… you've turned cartoon physics into a sport?"
Makoto nodded. "Exactly. And the prize is bragging rights. Loser has to voice him for the next episode."
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "You people are chaotic. I like it."
Takano smirked, leaning back. "Welcome to the team"
Michael looked at them, then started walking toward the stairs.
"You two continue," he muttered, his voice flat. "I'll be in my room."
He climbed the steps slowly, each creak of the wood echoing in the stillness upstairs. Reaching his floor, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Through the window, morning sunlight spilled into the room, warm but empty. It hit him—he'd been here almost a week, and aside from Rika, he had no one. And even she wasn't exactly a "friend." She was a necessity—his only guide to understanding this… death loop insanity. And even then, he didn't know if she was telling him everything.
He wasn't even sure if, when he died again, he'd actually come back.
Shaking off the thought, he crossed to his closet, moving a few shirts aside. Beneath them, wrapped in an old towel, were the Endoskeleton blueprints. Henry's work.
Henry Emily. The third owner of Fazbear. Michael remembered how Henry vanished after his daughter's death, leaving behind a trail of unfinished projects and rumors. He could still picture Chris—no, Evan—playing with those old animatronics.
Chris had always hated his first name. At home, Michael never used it. Just "Chris" or "Evan."
As if summoned by the memory, his brother's ghost flickered in the corner of the room. Brown hair, small frame, eyes that seemed too aware for a child. Michael blinked, and he was gone again.
Michael pressed his palms against his face.
"I hope that's just guilt," he muttered.
Turning back to the blueprint, his eyes followed the crisp lines and tiny annotations. He didn't even know why he kept reading it. Curiosity? Morbid fascination? Or maybe… a need to understand exactly what his father had been building.
This wasn't one of the later, sleek models. This was the first generation—cruder, simpler, but with hints of something far more dangerous in the design. He remembered there was a newer model too, something with a name like "Funtime" that he couldn't quite recall.
His gaze lingered on the skeletal frame. Without thinking, he said aloud:
"I wonder if I can make one."
A pause. Then, in his head: Where the hell did that come from?
He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Even if he wanted to build one, the parts alone were impossible to get here. Fazbear animatronics weren't made from ordinary steel—they were a hybrid alloy, a fusion of rare metals. Stuff you'd never find in a quiet mountain village.
…Unless Makoto's basement had something.
Or maybe… the junkyard. Every place like this had one.
The thought itched at him. There might be nothing. Or there might be… everything.
Michael folded the blueprint back into its towel, sliding it deep into the closet. For now, it would stay hidden.
But his mind was already somewhere else—somewhere rusted, forgotten, and full of parts that could be dangerous in the wrong hands.
And he wasn't entirely sure whose hands his were anymore.
To be continued
Hope people like this Ch and give me Power stones and enjoy