Masked Souls

Billy's pupils shifted to a calm blue as he began to scan his surroundings with quiet curiosity. Gregory gestured toward a large, worn chair—a relic from the animatronic era—indicating that Billy should lie down. Though puzzled by Gregory's intentions, Billy accepted the gesture, his innate curiosity urging him to see what might unfold.

Billy reclined on the oversized chair while Gregory busied himself with an assortment of wires and connectors. With practiced precision, Gregory attempted to rig a makeshift interface to tap into Billy's programming. Billy's eyes wandered over the tangle of cables, and for a moment, he seemed to assess the contraption with a detached interest, as if it were nothing more than a child's toy. Yet, despite Gregory's careful efforts, he couldn't discern exactly where to plug the wires into Billy's system.

"Little pal, how's this...whatever it is? Perhaps it will help ensure you're safe until morning?" Billy ventured, his tone gentle and slightly amused.

Gregory's response came in a low, hurried murmur. "Don't worry, Billy. I'll charge you so you can stay up all night without worrying about your battery."

Billy tilted his head, his voice carrying an edge of bemusement. "But I don't have any battery."

For a brief moment, Gregory froze. "You don't have a battery?" he repeated, disbelief tinting his words.

"No, I never had one," Billy replied softly.

At that instant, Gregory's mind began to race. It was all so puzzling—Billy's systems weren't showing up in any of the Mega PizzaPlex's databases, and now it appeared that he didn't operate on battery power like the other Glamrock animatronics. Every animatronic he knew relied on a battery to move freely within its time limits, yet Billy defied that logic. How did Billy function if not on power cells?

Billy slowly rose from the chair, now sitting upright rather than remaining reclined. "Is everything alright, little pal?" he asked, concern threading his tone.

"Yes, everything is fine…" Gregory replied, his voice taut as he struggled to reconcile the enigma before him.

Desperation edged his words as he pressed on, determined to unravel the mystery. "Can you tell me about your programming, Billy? I've always wanted to learn about coding and programming. You're very unique and special. If I can learn from your programming, maybe I can become a great programmer someday."

At that moment, Billy's pupils shifted once more—this time to a warm green—as he reached out with his right hand and gently patted Gregory's head and brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. "Of course, little pal," Billy said softly. "I can help you learn about programming. After all, I used to code and program my own routines for new shows, spectacles, songs—and so much more."

With that, Billy walked over to a monitor mounted on the wall. He paused before it, studying the flickering display with an intensity that made Gregory's thoughts scatter. For a long moment, Gregory stood there, lost in a haze of wonder and apprehension, trying to piece together the implications of Billy's words and the nature of the mystery they were both entangled in.

Inside Gregory's mind, a storm of conflicting thoughts and emotions raged. As he watched Billy—the golden rabbit animatronic who defied every expectation—Gregory's analytical side took over, dissecting every anomaly with clinical precision.

He recalled the oddities from their earlier encounters: Billy's internal systems not appearing in any database, the inexplicable absence of a battery, and the shifting hues of his pupils. Each detail was a piece of a puzzle that didn't quite add up. Gregory wondered if Billy was a relic of a past project—a forgotten prototype built with experimental technology. Or perhaps, he mused, Billy was something altogether different; not just another animatronic, but a living enigma that had somehow bypassed the conventional parameters of Fazbear Entertainment's designs.

His thoughts churned as he rewatched the brief exchange: Billy's calm yet cryptic answer about his programming, his gentle caress that hinted at familiarity and warmth. There was a depth there—a spark of autonomy that set him apart from the rigid, predictable Glamrock models. Gregory's mind raced through possibilities. Was Billy truly self-programmed, evolving on his own? Or was he simply a sophisticated facade, concealing layers of code that had never been logged or documented?

In the dim light of the hidden control room, Gregory's internal monologue was a mix of admiration and apprehension. The notion of hacking Billy—of commandeering that elusive code—both thrilled and terrified him. He longed to unravel Billy's secrets, to understand the intricacies of a system that seemed almost alive. But every unanswered question only deepened the mystery, making Billy an even more potent symbol of the unknown.

At that moment, Billy turned to look directly at Gregory.

Billy: "I can't show you my programming, little pal. I don't know how to make it appear on this monitor. I can access the cameras, but I can't access this monitor… But don't worry, I'm sure we can find a place where I can access it to show you and teach you. We just need to find the correct place."

For a long, weighted moment, Gregory's mind churned with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Every anomaly in Billy—his lack of a battery, the mysterious absence from the system logs, and now this cryptic response—deepened the puzzle. Gregory realized that to truly understand and perhaps control Billy, he would have to lead him further into the depths of the Mega PizzaPlex—a place where secrets and forgotten technology intermingled, and where the answers might finally be revealed.

Billy pushed open the door, stepping forward with an air of quiet confidence. Gregory followed closely behind, but before they could take more than a few steps, a sudden, sharp yell echoed through the corridor. 

Both turned in unison—Glamrock Freddy had spotted them. The towering animatronic locked onto their presence, its glowing eyes fixated on them as it broke into a sprint, heavy footsteps pounding against the tiled floor. 

Gregory's instincts kicked in—he bolted, knowing that staying put meant getting caught. But just as he took off, he noticed something strange—Billy wasn't moving. 

Instead, Billy remained still, completely unfazed. And when Glamrock Freddy lunged toward him, Billy reacted in an instant. With effortless precision, he caught the animatronic's clawed hands mid-swipe and, with a sudden burst of power, twisted—sending Freddy crashing onto the floor with a thunderous clang. 

Gregory froze, eyes wide in disbelief. Billy wasn't just any animatronic—he was stronger than Glamrock Freddy. 

As Freddy writhed on the floor, attempting to get back up, Billy swiftly kneeled down, his glowing blue pupils illuminating the darkened hall. Without hesitation, he gripped Freddy's head and, in one quick motion, wrenched it free with a metallic snap. Sparks flickered as wires stretched and tore apart. 

Holding the severed head with both hands, Billy's pupils pulsed with an analytical glow. His fingers traced the outer shell before he carefully pried open a panel, revealing the intricate circuitry within. Then, with practiced ease, he reached inside and extracted a large, green hardware chip. 

Billy turned to Gregory, holding up the component with a sense of accomplishment. 

Billy: "Little pal, look! I got this animatronic's hardware. All his programming must be in here… or at least, that's what I can tell from analyzing it." 

Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to him, Billy tilted his head slightly, his blue pupils softening. 

Billy: "By the way… what's your name, little pal?"

Gregory stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as he processed what had just happened. His heart pounded—not from fear of Glamrock Freddy, but from the sheer power Billy had just displayed. The way Billy had taken Freddy down so effortlessly, ripping his head off as if it were nothing… It was both terrifying and fascinating. 

This wasn't normal. Not for an animatronic. Not even for the Mimic. 

Gregory swallowed hard, eyes darting between Billy and the green hardware chip he held. His mind raced. How was Billy this strong? How did he know exactly what to extract from Freddy's head? And why did he act so… casual about it? 

But despite the storm of thoughts in Gregory's head, he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't let Billy suspect anything—not yet. He needed to figure Billy out first. 

He took a slow step forward, schooling his expression into one of forced curiosity rather than unease. 

"My name is Gregory," he finally answered, his voice steady despite the tension in his body. His eyes flickered to the chip in Billy's hands. "And… you just pulled that right out of Freddy. Are you sure you know what it does?" 

Billy's pupils flickered with curiosity, his grip on the hardware tightening slightly. 

"Well, I can analyze it deeper," Billy responded, tilting his head. "I just need the right system to access its data." 

Gregory's mind clicked into place. This was his opportunity. 

He took another step closer, forcing a small smile. "Then… maybe I can help you find one."