The office buzzed faintly, monitors lighting the small, metallic room in shades of blue and violet. The dreamscape had settled into something more… defined. The walls were smooth and cold, the air thick with static. Every surface hummed faintly beneath Harry's touch.
Lolbit's glitching grin flickered across the center monitor, their tail curling through pixels like a cat's shadow. "Still standing," they purred, voice warping with delight. "You might actually make it interesting tonight."
Harry leaned forward slightly, violet eyes reflecting the glow. "Night three, then."
"Night three," Lolbit echoed. "And the rules and roster has expanded."
The monitors rippled once—then the world shifted.
Night three
The lights dimmed.
Harry sat at the desk, six monitors arranged before him. Each showed a grainy, colorless view: vents, hallways, storage, the show stage. A small keyboard sat off to his right, its keys faintly glowing. Along the walls, two heavy metal doors waited—each with a panel of glowing buttons for lights, locks, and vents.
The air carried a faint hum, and beneath it, a whisper of movement.
Lolbit leaned across the main monitor, eyes half-lidded. "New guests tonight," they said, voice layered with static. "Each plays by their own rule. Listen carefully, Harry."
"Something small will crawl through the vents. You'll know it by the sound—close it quickly, or it'll crawl inside.
A dancer named Ballora will drift through the halls. Her song will warn you, but if it grows too loud… close the door nearest the melody.
that curtain in the back?" Lolbit pointed with a clawed digit toward a camera feed labeled Cam 07. "The fox doesn't like being ignored."
The screen blinked, the digital clock in the corner rolling to 12:00 A.M.
The night has begun.
At first, nothing happened.
Harry flipped through the cameras, eyes flicking from one feed to another—vent shafts, dark corners, the empty stage. His reflection shone faintly in the glass. The sound of air circulating filled the silence.
Then a clank echoed through the right vent.
Harry snapped his eyes to the vent.
"That'll be them," Lolbit whispered. "Bidybab."
Without thinking, he pressed the wrong button. The vent light flickered on.
Something scratched against the metal, followed by a burst of garbled laughter—and then cold fingers clamped around his arm.
Harry jolted back, heart lurching as the dream dissolved into static. His vision blurred—then the office reset, clean, untouched. 12:00 A.M. again.
Lolbit's grin widened. "Quick reaction. Wrong action."
He tried again.
This time, he watched the vent light flicker before hearing the sound. He hesitated, hand hovering over the panel.
Clank.
He hit the vent lock.
Something thudded against it—hard—and then stopped. Silence. The corners of his mouth twitched upward. That worked.
But his victory was short-lived.
Soft music began to drift through the left hallway—slow, graceful, and eerie. Harry tensed, listening as the melody grew louder, closer. "Ballora?" he guessed.
Lolbit only tilted their head. "You're learning the names already."
He waited too long. The melody peaked—and the door beside him burst inward with a malformed lolborra appearing in it. The dream shattered again into white static.
When he came back, Harry exhaled shakily, pressing his fingers to his temple. The adrenaline didn't fade—it stayed, humming like the electric lights.
Hours—or tries—passed that way.
Each failure was different: a missed cue, a late door closure, forgetting to check the cameras on Foxy's curtain. Every time, the world broke apart into bright white and rebuilt itself around him. The hum would start again, and Lolbit's laughter would follow.
"Too slow."
"Too early."
"Wrong door."
"Close, but not quite."
Harry didn't stop.
His eyes flicked faster between feeds now—vent, hall, stage. The pattern of sounds began to take shape: the scrape of metal meant Bidybab. The drifting notes were Ballora. But a new sound — soft patter of feet and distorted laughter belonged to someone else.
Funtime Freddy.
"Footsteps," Lolbit warned, voice lazy. "He's a loud one. But listen close—he always tells you which door he'll use."
Harry listened. Freddy's laughter echoed through the right hall, followed by his own voice, warped and sing-song.
"Go get him, Bon-Bon!"
Harry slammed the right door shut—and something slammed back. Then silence.
Lolbit clapped once, sharp and echoing. "Good!"
Harry smirked faintly, rolling his shoulders. "Learning."
"Failing productively," Lolbit corrected.
The night blurred into rhythm.
Clank—vent lock.
Music—door slam.
Curtain—camera check & door close if gone.
Laughter—right or left door.
Flicker and warning—shock.
Giggle—mental tap.
Bonnet's nose glowed faintly as she trotted past the edge of the desk, a grin split wide by static. Harry's mind flicked toward her, a soft telepathic tap on her nose. She squeaked and vanished.
The camera feeds stuttered as power fluctuated. The lights dimmed. An icon flashed red on the monitor—Electrobab. Harry's hand shot out to hit the shock button. The room flared with white light, then steadied again.
By 5 A.M., his motions were sharp, instinctive. The exhaustion didn't feel heavy anymore—it felt distant, muffled. Every failure before this moment had honed something inside him, carved it to a blade.
When the clock struck 6 A.M., the sound of bells echoed faintly, and everything went still.
Lolbit appeared upside down across the center monitor. "Persistence," they said, their grin stretching too wide. "That's the trick. You learn by dying."
Harry's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Then I'm gotta learn fast."
Night four
The reset came like a flicker—same office, same desk—but the atmosphere had changed. The hum was louder. The shadows crawled closer to the edge of the lights. The clock rolled to 12:00 A.M. again.
Lolbit drifted across the monitors, eyes bright. "Tonight the difficulty increases and the last three new opponents appear," they said softly,
"You will need to check cam 06 or the oxygen room, minirenas will appear on them, shock them to not end up dieing from suffocation"
"The second is yenndo he will appear in you office every now and then when you stop looking at the monitors, to beat him quickly look back into the monitor"
"The last animatronic is my self, I will appear in the monitors if three of my face manage to appear I will decrease your vision create audio interference and prevent you from closing doors, to stop that you just have to type LOL into the keyboard on your left."
Harry nodded, wordless.
The first sound hit immediately—the metallic clatter of multiple vents at once. Harry's hand moved on instinct, slamming both vent locks with a metallic thunk. The buttons glowed red, sealing the airways. The monitors flickered—Ballora's silhouette twirling through the left hall. He closed the door before her music peaked, listening as the melody faded into a distant echo.
Then Foxy stirred. The feed for Cam 07 blinked open, revealing a twitching, half-glitched form shifting behind the curtain.
Harry's thumb hovered over the monitor control, eyes narrowing. He held the feed steady as the creature froze mid-step.
A faint giggle brushed his thoughts—Bonnet. His lips twitched. Tap. Gone.
The oxygen alert flashed next, crimson on the right monitor. "Cam six," he muttered to himself, flipping to it. Tiny, distorted shapes pressed against the glass—Minireenas. He slammed the shock button. The lights flared white, the forms scattered, and the hum of oxygen returned.
The rhythm settled in.
Lock. Door. Cam. Tap. Shock. Door.
He moved like clockwork, every motion deliberate, precise. Yet beneath that precision, a pulse began to build. Each success came faster. Each failure, shorter.
Lolbit's voice drifted faintly through the static, playful as ever. "You're adapting again. I almost miss the panic."
Harry didn't answer. He didn't need to. His focus was total—hands steady, eyes sharp. The screen to his left flickered; Freddy's voice rang out from the darkness.
"Bon-Bon, say hi to our new friend!"
Harry didn't even hesitate—slam. The right door locked. A metallic thud rattled through it, followed by silence.
A quiet grin ghosted across his lips.
By 2 A.M., the motions were instinct. By 3 A.M., they were reflex. He began to anticipate sounds before they fully formed, fingers twitching over buttons milliseconds ahead of time.
When Ballora's song rose again, Harry found himself mouthing the rhythm quietly, head tilted, listening for the shift that meant danger.
4 A.M. brought new chaos.
A flash of movement—Yenndo, half-formed and glitching, standing just behind the desk. Its eyes burned gold.
Harry didn't flinch. He simply snapped his gaze to the nearest monitor—Yenndo flickered, distorted, gone.
"Better," Lolbit purred. "You're starting to enjoy this."
He still didn't reply—but his faint grin widened all the same.
Power dropped sharply, the lights flickering into a reddish hue. On one screen, Lolbit's face appeared, then another appeared on the second monitor.
Harry's gaze darted to the keyboard. His fingers hit the keys in quick succession. "L-O-L."
The interference broke like shattering glass. Lolbit's laugh spilled from every speaker, glitched and musical. "Quick learner!"
The pattern quickened. The noise rose.
Every second was motion—lock, check, shock, listen, type.
Every mistake ended in white static.
Every restart brought him sharper.
By the tenth reset, he wasn't just surviving—he was moving with rhythm, with tempo. His eyes gleamed with quiet excitement now, violet light reflecting the monitors. His breath came steady, calm… almost exhilarated.
At 5:30 A.M., the room was chaos—alarms flashing, doors slamming, laughter echoing, the static thick like fog. Harry's grin never faltered.
"Almost there," he murmured, flipping cameras, reacting faster and faster.
Then suddenly—bells rung.
6 A.M.
The noise collapsed into silence. The light steadied. The hum faded.
Harry leaned back slowly in his chair, breath steady, pulse still racing faintly beneath the calm. His hand rested on the desk, fingers tapping once against the cool metal.
Lolbit appeared upside down across the main monitor again, eyes glowing bright orange, their glitching smile sharp and satisfied.
"You smiled again," they teased softly.
Harry tilted his head slightly, a faint grin curving his lips. "It's… fun."
Lolbit's laugh rippled like static, sweet and warbled. "Good. Because the fifth night—" They leaned closer, pixels dripping from their frame like molten glass. "—will be the most fun."
The monitors dimmed, their glow fading one by one until only the faint orange gleam of Lolbit's eyes remained in the dark.