Masked Souls

Billy abruptly broke the hug, shoving Gregory aside with a swift, practiced motion. In that split second, his keen eyes caught a glimpse of something concealed in Gregory's hand—a mysterious device that Gregory, with a flash of nervous instinct, hastily attempted to hide behind his back.

Billy's blue pupils flared with a curious glow as he tilted his head, scrutinizing the object. In his mind, it might have been nothing more than a trivial toy—a child's game perhaps—something unworthy of a second thought. Yet the glimmer of intrigue in his eyes betrayed a silent question that lingered, unanswered.

Slowly, Billy straightened up, and for a long, heavy moment, the two remained locked in a silent stare. Gregory's hand, still furtively guarding its secret, betrayed nothing more than a practiced nonchalance. The tension between them hung thick in the dim corridor, where shadows played tricks on both light and memory.

Finally, breaking the quiet, Billy spoke, his voice measured and tinged with both innocence and latent wisdom:

Billy: "How long has the Mega PizzaPlex been built, little pal?"

In that moment, every flicker of light and every subtle pause in the electronic hum of the building seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Gregory's answer—and the promise of secrets yet to be revealed.

Gregory's eyes narrowed as he spoke, his voice low and laced with secrets. "Years. It opened in March, some weeks ago. But it got shut down because the animatronics became dangerous—out of control. But you're different... You aren't one of the gang, no?"

Billy's gaze shifted, a puzzled crease forming on his face. "... Gang? No, sorry. I don't know what gang you mean. The only gang I was in was with Fredbear."

"Fredbear? Who is Fredbear?" Gregory pressed, a flicker of genuine curiosity breaking through his guarded tone.

Billy's voice dropped to a whisper, almost as if sharing a painful memory. "... No one anymore... But don't worry, you don't have to worry about past things, little pal. I will help you get out safely."

At that, Billy started to move, and Gregory hesitated—a momentary pause filled with conflicting impulses. Billy wasn't like the sleek, well-known Glamrock animatronics that roamed the halls; there was something more organic in his presence. Gregory fell into step behind him, a part of him driven by a need to control. He pulled out his portable interface and attempted to hack into Billy's network. But as his fingers danced over the keys, his eyes widened in confusion—there was no file, no trace, nothing labeled "Billy" in the sprawling system of the Mega PizzaPlex. Gregory's pulse quickened, a prickling unease creeping over him. Had Billy not told him his true identity? Was "Billy" merely a nickname, a façade hiding something deeper?

Determined, Gregory combed through every bit of data related to any rabbit animatronic. His search yielded only data on Glamrock Bonnie—no record of a golden rabbit, no sign of Billy's unique code. 

Billy broke the silence, his voice tinged with both wonder and concern. "Little pal, how did the Mega PizzaPlex end up like this? It opened weeks ago, so how did the animatronics become so dangerous for customers?"

Gregory paused, wrestling with his own uncertainty. There was something in Billy that Gregory couldn't pinpoint—something that set him apart from the Glamrocks and even from the Mimic. Billy's interactivity, his willingness to nudge Gregory and share close moments, was unlike anything the other animatronics ever displayed.

"I don't know," Gregory admitted at last, his tone bitter with resignation. "I was enjoying it all, and then it just... happened. I got trapped here. The main entrances are locked and shut down."

Billy stopped in his tracks and surveyed the darkened corridors around them. "Well... I'm new to the Mega PizzaPlex, but maybe... maybe I can try something…" 

Without another word, Billy's interface lit up as he began programming himself to access the entire network of cameras within the mall. In seconds, his digital vision spread over every corner of the building, revealing the stark truth—the main entrance was completely sealed shut.

He murmured, "... The main entrance is closed, and I don't see a way to open it. I don't know any other way out, and if I break the main entrance... I don't know what would happen next, or even if I could break through."

Gregory's tone turned pragmatic. "You don't need to break through the main entrance. In the morning, it will open, and I can get out then. But... with the animatronics roaming around freely, I can't stand by myself."

A soft reassurance came from Billy. "Don't worry, little pal. I'll make sure no one touches you. Lead the way, and I'll cover you."

Gregory nodded, and together they began their cautious trek through the dim, echoing halls of the Mega PizzaPlex. All the while, a tumultuous plan churned in Gregory's mind. He needed to hack Billy—whatever Billy truly was—and bend him to his will. As they moved, Gregory's gaze shifted to Billy's eyes. He noticed, with a spark of fascination, that Billy's pupils glowed a gentle green. 

Curiosity compelled Gregory to speak. "Your eyes... they can change color?"

Billy's voice was soft as he replied, "... They can? Let me check." 

Billy then began to check his internal programming, and he discovered that his pupils could shift into three distinct colors—each tied to a different emotion. Green signified kindness and his affinity for being with children; Blue was his normal state, reflecting curiosity and intrigue; and Red indicated his entry into rage and protection mode.

Billy explained softly, "I have three different pupil colors, each one for a different mode I operate in. Green when I'm with children, giving shows or spectacles—my attraction mode; Blue as my normal, calm state; and Red when I'm in protection mode."

For a brief moment, the corridor fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the building's failing systems. Gregory's mind raced with possibilities: Was Billy's changing eye color simply part of his programming, or did it hint at something far more unpredictable? Despite his growing intrigue, Gregory was resolute. He needed to assert control—to hack into Billy's very core and make him obey his commands, no matter what Billy might be capable of doing on his own.

And so, as they pressed onward through the labyrinth of the Mega PizzaPlex, Gregory's eyes gleamed with both ambition and trepidation. Every step they took was a step into the unknown, where the line between programming and free will blurred, and where the dark undercurrents of the past threatened to resurface at any moment.

Gregory led Billy down a narrow corridor that gradually gave way to a more expansive, pulsating area—the Glamrock Arena of the Mega PizzaPlex. Here, neon lights danced across polished surfaces and the rhythmic thump of synthesized beats filled the air. This was the stage where the flagship Glamrock animatronics once dazzled visitors with flawless performances. Now, however, they roamed in erratic routines, their programmed cheer twisted into something more unpredictable.

As they advanced, the corridor opened into the arena, a vast space framed by towering digital billboards and cascading strobe lights. Gregory's eyes were fixed ahead, not on the spectacle of color and sound, but on a narrow, concealed door tucked behind a row of inactive performance pods. This was his target—a hidden maintenance chamber rumored to house old network terminals and forgotten servers. It was there that he hoped to find the means to hack into Billy's mysterious programming.

But the path to that chamber was not unguarded. In the center of the arena, almost as if by design, stood Glamrock Freddy—its face a grotesque parody of its former friendly demeanor. The animatronic's eyes glowed with a fierce digital intensity, and its movements, though seemingly choreographed, exuded a latent danger. Gregory motioned silently for Billy to stay low as they inched around the edge of the stage. Every step was measured, every heartbeat loud in the deafening mix of pulsing music and mechanical whirrs.

Gregory's plan was as perilous as it was ingenious: while Billy's unique, untraceable code remained his enigma, Gregory intended to breach it in that hidden room, using one of the archaic network interfaces as a backdoor. Yet, as they skirted around the performance area, the imposing presence of Glamrock Freddy became unavoidable. The animatronic's sensors caught a flicker of movement, and it pivoted slowly toward them. For a tense moment, time seemed to halt as Gregory and Billy locked eyes with the mechanical guardian.

"Stay still," Gregory hissed, his voice barely audible over the rhythmic thrum of the arena. He fumbled with a compact device in his pocket—a custom-built hacking tool—hoping to override the animatronic's detection protocols. The device emitted a faint, high-pitched tone, designed to confuse facial recognition algorithms. The strategy worked for a brief instant, drawing Glamrock Freddy's attention away as its head swiveled to follow the sound.

With the threat momentarily subdued, Gregory signaled for Billy to move forward. They ducked into a narrow side corridor leading off the arena—a passage concealed behind a heavy, matte-black door that bore the faded insignia of the old Fazbear Entertainment. Inside, the space was a labyrinth of outdated network servers, blinking status lights, and dusty cables that crisscrossed the ceiling. This was the control center of the PizzaPlex's underbelly, a relic from an era when the building's secrets were kept in analog code and hidden compartments.

Here, Gregory set up his hacking rig on a creaking metal desk. He connected his device to one of the ancient terminals, its screen flickering to life with cryptic code and long-forgotten directory structures. His plan was to probe the network for any trace of Billy's identity—a digital fingerprint he could latch onto and control. Yet, as he delved deeper into the system, his brows furrowed in frustration. No file, no trace, nothing labeled "Billy" emerged from the labyrinth of data.

Billy watched quietly, his green pupils glimmering with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Gregory's mind raced. Had Billy hidden his true identity? Was "Billy" merely a nickname, a placeholder for something more profound? Every failed query only deepened the mystery, and with each passing second, the tension in the dim, musty room thickened.

Determined not to let the moment slip, Gregory refocused his efforts, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he bypassed one security protocol after another. The hum of the servers seemed to echo the racing of his heart, and somewhere in the background, the distant, discordant sounds of the Glamrock Arena reminded him that time was slipping away.

For now, the hidden control center was their only sanctuary—a temporary refuge where Gregory's ambitions to hack Billy's network clashed with the daunting mystery of Billy's own self-contained code. And as the two figures worked in uneasy silence, the Mega PizzaPlex outside continued its eerie performance—a spectacle of light, sound, and danger, where every corridor and every stage held secrets waiting to be unearthed.