A/N : I'm still alive... sorta. So, the original file got lost in the void (for some unknown reason, done by some unknown entity). So, this book will continue forth with a new outline (Which is still--admittedly, still in progress). But things will get much more serious now. Like always, I request for ya'll's never ending support to this book. Especially those who REALLY stayed until now (I'm surprised YOU guys are still here). Nevertheless, I thank you all for still being here. While waiting for updates, you guys could jump and check out my other works from other fandoms too! That's all for now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Okay, that does it. If she doesn't want to talk, then you'll make her talk.

Three days passed and you've yet to catch even the tiniest glimpse of Vanessa during night shifts. Heck, she was nowhere even in the morning—even management didn't bother, claiming that as long as she's doing her nightly obligations, then they could care less on what she does.

But you were different, you couldn't sit idly by... especially, not after the suspicions you've been holding up against her, all with unanswered queries that yearns for a response.

Despite only waiting around for three days, you already knew that she wouldn't be appearing anytime soon. Thus, you took it upon yourself to hunt her down.

Standing outside an apartment complex, you had your Fazwatch with you. This wasn't any Fazwatch, it was upgraded after its old model became outdated. You raised your watch close to your lips. "I'm here."

"Is she home?"

There, came a voice from the device. It was Freddy's voice, the Fazwatch itself privately connected to his servers, allowing him to communicate with you even when you were outside the Fazbear Pizzaplex premises. Of course, you weren't THAT dumb, you planned this out with Freddy.

"I'm not sure, the lights are off." You made your way up the stairs presented on the side of the complex, avoiding contact with the dusty rails for obvious reasons. You made it up the stairs and up front was a long hallway similar to a balcony with one side open, and the other were lines of doors with numbers carved in the wooden fixture. You took several footsteps forward, the sound of your heels against concrete was breaking through the usual whisp of the night in its splendor sound.

209... 210... 211..... 212.

By the time your eyes fell on the numbers '212', you immediately knew this was Vanessa's place. Indeed, the lights were shut off, but it was still early in the night, surely, she was still getting ready for work, right? Since last you checked, Vanessa was tagged on leave tonight for... personal reasons. But you knew her well, she'll still, STILL go to work whenever she damn wants.

Either she's at home, or she's elsewhere. But she probably wouldn't be in the Pizzaplex, right?

So, with a deep breath, you raised a fist—and knocked.

Once, twice... three more times... still nothing.

"No answer?"

"No... Should we turn back—"

"1987"

"What?"

"1987 is the passcode."

Wait, how on earth—never mind you would rather not ask.

Facing the number pad for the lock mechanism, you typed in the numbers your sentient significant other has mentioned. "1987", what a peculiar passcode for a home door, was she born in that year? Well... probably not, she's too young for that.

Maybe it holds a big significance in her life.

The device beeped before the lock unlatches from the door, and you were able to enter by pulling down the door handle. The first thing to embrace you was the odor of moist and dampness, the lights off, and even in the darkness—you could make out the outline of scattered clothes, paper cups, and other recognizable debris of trash and utter mess. You almost shuddered just by stepping in—is this how Vanessa lived?

"I don't think Vanessa's home..." you spoke to the device on your wrist, seeing the other end was still active.

"Try to search for clues, I'll see what I can find on my end."

To search in a place like this...? Well, you didn't really have a plausible choice.

Pushing away all your reservations, you stepped in and closed the door. The door locked with a click and—the room was engulfed darkness.

Maybe you should've switched on the lights before you closed the door. Only a small ray of light shone from under the door's gap, and now—you could barely make out the outline of whatever mess was littered in the area.

Perhaps you should go open the lights first—before you actually injure yourself from whatever obstacle was in this place.

With an outstretched arm, you probed around the walls, trying to find even the slightest outline of a light switch. It was difficult, the layout of this apartment was... well... unreasonable? Usually, light switches are on the walls near the doors—well, in your perspective. You were no architect, just relying on what you currently know.

One step at a time, you tried to navigate your way into the darkness. The place...reeked of unhygienic conditions, trash littered on the ground, and various artifacts of unknown origins and nature were...everywhere. But after nearly tripping—a few times—you were able to pat around for a smooth surface, one side slightly elevated—it was a switch.

With a flick, the lights turned on—at least it was bright enough to bring light into the dim environment.

Yeah, it was a mess.

"I can sense your distress."

"Sorry, I'll hurry up."

"No, take your time. Should you need assistance, tell me immediately."

"Any assistance?"

"Correct, no matter how small."

"... Got it." you gave the area another quick look around—this was going to take a while.

Your aim for tonight was supposedly to face Vanessa and interrogate her, but apparently she wasn't anywhere to be found. This apartment was empty, but surely there should be clues left as to where she is, right?

As you walked further into the apartment, more objects came to view. Empty bottles, pizza boxes on the table—empty. But what sparked your concern the most was the sleeping pills spilled on the coffee table. It was the same one you saw Vanessa bought a night ago. The bottles... was this... even prescribed to begin with?

This is concerning.

"I found some sleeping pills."

"I did a quick search on her file; she is currently not diagnosed with anything and therefore might not be legally prescribed to purchase such drugs."

"Fred, I don't think she's here anyways. Should I bring the bottles with me?" you asked, wanting to get out of here as much as possible—the sight of... bloody bandages under the table was not a pleasing and reassuring sight.

"No need, I do not think it is relevant in this case. I received an anomaly report just now. Would you like to investigate with me?"

"Of course, we agreed to be in this together. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. I'm on my way back."

"Safe travels, keep your Fazwatch active at all times so that I am aware of your location."

You rolled your eyes and decided not to drag on the conversation longer by posing another reply. You ditched the bottle and made a beeline out of the apartment—being in someone else's apartment without express permission felt... very much unlawful and illegal. You got to get out of there.

You locked the doors and made sure no one was around to witness your exit. It was near midnight, surely, no one else would be out here unless its for a late night drink. You ensured to get rid of whatever trace was left in your wake before you quickly walked out of the area.

It took a taxi's worth to get to the Pizzaplex a few minutes before midnight, and the doors were still open for security staff entry. You didn't even bothered to wear your uniform—you forgot to do the laundry with so much that has been happening, you didn't notice it at all. But who cares at this point? Its not like Fazbear Entertainment will dock your salary for it as long as you put the uniform on while in actual work set ups. You recalled leaving a spare uniform back in your locker in the security office... well, most likely.

Pushing the doors open, you were immediately greeted by the warm ambience of the Pizzaplex. Dim lights and music still played in the vicinity, but with less of the dizzying array of colors in comparison to the mornings. Like expected, the animatronic you've been conversing with was standing at the foot of his own statue, the golden structure a direct reflection of his glory as an entertainer—as the namesake of the business, anyways. He immediately spotted you, and you gave a wave momentarily.

"Hey, what anomaly were you talking about?" you have gotten straight to the point, wanting to—well, a portion of your mind already screaming at you to assume that it was Vanessa's presence—or whatever it is. It depends, really. Sometimes its administrative or technological errors leading to anomaly errors and reports.

But shouldn't those false alarms of a report already been filtered and remotely checked by Freddy if so? If he's investigating it himself, then something's up.

"The tunnels, right? Come on!" you were able to wrap a whole hand around his finger to drag him down Rockstar Row. It didn't necessarily required strength to get the animatronic to follow, since he followed you himself. There was a lingering amusement in the air, but he didn't ponder over it—it'll be a waste of RAM.

He pushed the metallic door open for you, letting you slip in as his eyes immediately turned on its night vision oculars. The glossy surface where his eyes were began to shine, resembling built-in flashlight to help you see more clearly.

"Be careful. Maintenance cleanups had just finished, and the floor is still wet from the mops. Watch your step." He reminded every now and then as you walked forward, descending the flight of stairs with your heels tapping against metal platforms. The animatronic followed carefully. Despite his large size, he was able to... at the very least, keep his movements minimal and quiet.

For the most part, it is still undeniable that two metals colliding against each other were still quite noisy, but it was less than the usual noise the Pizzaplex had to offer.

You both reached the lower floors where industrial pipes still emitted hot steam that contributed to—whatever part of the Pizzaplex it goes. You were not an engineer of any sort; you've no idea what these things do.

Still, you avoided getting sprayed by the mist as much as possible and eventually reached the catwalk-like platforms which connected to various elevators, leading to various locations in the Pizzaplex.

It was warm, too warm—hot even. The mist was making it hard to breathe around here. The company should consider improving the ventilation system if they expect employees to get around the Pizzaplex using the service elevators.

"So, where's the anomaly?" you turned to look back at your companion who followed as you proceeded, his eyes serving as your overhead flashlights.

"The anomaly detected is out of bounds with my mapping. I can decipher the approximate location; however, I do not think I can reach the said area."

"If so, I'll check it out." He pointed the direction, and you started walking deeper into the utility service tunnels.

For some reason, the more you walked—the more a wave of familiarity hits you. Its nauseating—was it the shabby ventilation system? Or the scent of dread?

Eugh, you could smell the sewage from here, not to mention what scraps of kitchen debris was flowing in the sewage systems. It better not be used cooking oil and grease, because if it is—

They're gonna have a problem with the health department.

"(Y/N)..."

What was that?

"What is it, Fred?" you turned around, believing the one calling out to you—well, logically he was the only one there—was Freddy.

"I was not calling out to you."

... What?

"You called my name—"

"I have not addressed you. Are you alright? Is the ventilation system making you feel disoriented?"

You chose not to answer. You could have sworn someone was... calling.

For some reason... it felt a little... déjà vu.

Did someone call you over?

Keep it together, it must be your mind messing with you—yeah, maybe it's fatigue, or maybe it's the ventilation system's inefficiency making it feel all stuffy around here—hallucinations?

Damn, you shouldn't tell Freddy, or you'll both won't be able to finish anything should both of you retreat halfway cause of this.

Besides, you still have to look for Vanessa.

"You should stay here; I'll go have a look." You held onto the hilt of the flashlight strapped on your belt, pulling it up and flicking it on—half battery, this should last through the hour.

"I don't like such idea; however, I admit it is the most feasible course of action at the moment." He stood still; his eyes trained over your form. The place was tight and narrow; Freddy wouldn't fit there unless he cause massive destruction in his wake.

"We'll keep in touch, don't worry." You raised your arm to show that you were still wearing the Fazwatch you used to communicate with him from outside. Anywhere with a signal, the Fazwatch will be usable.

After seeing a nod of agreement from Freddy, you turned around and headed towards the path where the approximate location of the 'anomaly' was said to be located.

You didn't even know what exactly you were looking for, but two things can come out of this—you resolve a simple error probably left by negligent I.T. staff OR you find Vanessa.

Cause, why not associate Vanessa into it too?

She's tagged as suspicious until she explains herself otherwise. So, its probably not a crime to PRESUMINGLY pin everything to Vanessa.

Besides, not like a formal case was filed with her name on black and white.

The area was stuffy, narrow and... tight. You had to move sideways just to push yourself through the gap. The air smelled moist, and slimy compound was covering the warm and humid pipes of the utility tunnels. You yourself had no idea what this place is or why its heavily unmaintained for something as profound as the Pizzaplex—

Wait. Wait just a freaking minute.

If this place is this dirty, then no one must've come here often to require it. The space is too narrow—only someone as small as a CHILD could come through. Not to mention how this area is out of bounds with Freddy's mapping—and Freddy has all access to the Pizzaplex.

It could only mean one thing—there's a possibility that a child was here! Or maybe, trapped here!

So, you pushed forward. You didn't care if cobwebs or sticky, slimy compounds got stuck into your shirt—since technically, you've yet to put on your uniform. It smells really damp, moist and bacterial buildup so evident that you almost had half the mind to turn back and leave. But you didn't, since you've already gone this far.

Okay, your objectives increased in number once again, but hitting two birds with one stone? Finding that little missing kid could do wonders in clearing the Pizzaplex's name from resurfacing rumors.

What's more? You could practically show your worth as a night guard! Imagine this, a night guard rescuing the missing child and safely returning them to their family—you can already imagine the newspaper articles of your imagined heroism.

It would be fantastic!

"Recognition and year-end bonuses, here I come—"

Pushing forth despite the grim and clammy environment. It reeked of a strange stench of the undead, the air was sickly damp—you should've worn a face mask and such.

It took a long time of squeezing through the channels of that cramped up path, your uniform getting smeared with whatever strange and grotesque substance leaking from the exposed pipes, steam blocking your vision—it was until you saw it.

A space between the gap, dark, cobwebs adorned the walls, framing the dark path with an eerie—okay, maintenance seriously NEEDS to see this.

"What's the deal with this—" then, you paused. The end of that dreadful path led to... a room. Steel door lifted open, and the other side had a similar door. The area was rusty, metal changing into an auburn color of age, and lights barely illuminated what was there a table mounted to the wall on the right side of the entrance, long enough till it reached the opposite wall. Boxes old and aged under it, filled with unknown objects that you'd rather not question what was there. Cobwebs sealed what used to be the labels identifying the boxes, scratched and stained—it was no different from what was atop the table.

Monitors piled up, they weren't even working—or were they? You've got no idea whatsoever. Some monitors were cracked, some were still in intact shape, but the same decoration of cobwebs connected various parts of the appliances. But a few... somehow, were turned on and on... endless static. The buzzing from the screens were a quiet hum that only increased the unnerving environment. There was a rusty looking fan there, and that—definitely didn't look like it was usable, it was probably a new refuge home for whatever bugs that crawled the area. The table was nothing if not cluttered, the area had paper cups, paper plates—they were everywhere. Mold was forming in the corners where food and sauce used to smear on paper. nonetheless, posters were plastered on walls, all untouched from the moment they were pinned on the walls. Children's drawings, posters of the band—it must've been put here by whoever was staying here in the first place.

Was this... a security office? This definitely wasn't in the plans, not even in the general directory of where security offices were scattered in the building. If ever there was, why was she not knowledgeable of it?

Of course, there's a mapping available to all staff, and they're required to memorize and comprehend all the said locations to fulfill their obligations, and you're no exception.

Since you've returned to the Pizzaplex, you've been re-exposed to trainings beforehand—and this was definitely absent from the aforementioned.

"This place..." you stepped forward, and suddenly—a pang of pain throbbed through your head—it was painful, throbbing—

What is this?

"You don't know who he really is"

"All of this was HIS doing."

"He took those children."

"Freddy can't be trusted."

"It's all his fault."

"Stop—stop!" you had to shout out—there was no apparent reason why, but the voice—you knew that voice.

These memories... were they your own? The things you no longer remembered? The things—did it even exist or was it the trickery of the mind?

But by the time you refocused your gaze up front—the empty office was no more, rather, a figure stood at the center of it all. A woman clad in a very familiar uniform you grew accustomed to. The only difference was the sharp image of something that felt blurry in the back of your mind—but otherwise there.

Cream brown and white sewn together into a dusty gray of an amalgamation, dark ink markered the eyes, and pure red with black slits were evident. The uncanny smile that brought goosebumps to appear on your skin—what? Two elongated cloths extended above the head—ears of some sort, resembling those of hares and bunnies.

Was that a mask?

But when you stared into the entity's eyes—one name crossed your mind in a graveling whisper—

VANNY

"...Vanessa..?" you took a tentative step forward—but the other took a step back. This made you pause—and even doubt what you're seeing. "Vanessa—"

But she took off, three steps back, then turned to run out through the other door, leaving you stunned. "Wait—!" and you inevitably chased after her.

You stumbled, nearly tripping on some objects along the way—paper cups that looked like they were long used, and crumpled paper balls of receipts dating ages ago. You felt your feet thump against the flooring, the tiles against your heels muted from the years of unkempt. Stains of whatever substance were all over the floor, but none of it was your concern other than the fear of slipping against what grotesque of a display was shown.

You don't even know where you're going, your eyes honing onto the woman running in front of you. Her ash blonde ponytail swaying with her movement, and the tap of shoes against tiles were all that's audible other than your rapid breathing.

The palpitating of your heartbeat was audible in your ears, drumming against your chest with an intensity that could've impaled a hole through flesh. "Vanessa! Stop!" you called out as much as your lungs could utter despite the lack of stable air flowing through your lungs. Your legs were aching, wanting to give out from the sudden burst of physical activity, but you didn't waver.

Every sharp turn makes your knees feel weaker, but your resolve strong—what was Vanessa doing? Why was she running? And what's with that terrifying looking mask?

VANNY

That name again, its echoing in your head. You didn't know where it came from, but it sounds so damn familiar. Why? Why can't you remember?!

Why can't you—Gah!

Pain coursed through your head when you fell short in your chase, your forehead colliding against—a wall? Wait.

"Where—where did she go?" you could have sworn she went this way. But there was a wall—she couldn't have phased through, could she? Is there a hidden mechanism here of some sort?

You patted the wall—it was dusty, but definitely solid. No matter where you touched—there wasn't any exit to get through from. So, where did she go?

You could have sworn she phased through the wall... but it's illogical, there's no scientific explanation to elaborate just what happened. No matter where you look, there just...

There isn't anything.

No path, no hidden mechanism... were you hallucinating?

You jolted when a sound suddenly tore through the silence like hot knife through butter. The ring was familiar, but it made you startled. You hastily checked your back pocket for that obnoxious sound—your phone.

Pulling it up, you see a familiar name on your phone screen—it was Freddy.

In the end, you answered, putting it on speakerphone since you don't trust yourself to not be startled by his voice so close to your ear. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), where are you? I have been deprived of a response from your end for approximately twenty minutes now. The Fazwatch lost its signal, so, I tapped into your employee profile to contact you directly from a cellular device."

"... What?" you were still quite shaken; you could barely comprehend what he just said.

After a moment, he clarified. "Let me rephrase. I searched for your phone number from the company's employee database and located your profile specifically. Thus, I connected my signal to your phone." And you could only nod absentmindedly.

Do animatronics need phone credits to make a call?

"(Y/N)?"

"Ah—sorry?" you spaced out again, your eyes glued to the empty wall painted in purple. It looked olden with age, the cracks on paint evident, and it is without a doubt.

A wall.

A damn, thick, solid, and painted wall.

"You have been gone for quite some time now. Meet me at Rockstar Row, let us talk." And he disconnected.

You understood why, since animatronics are only allowed to connect locally within the Pizzaplex, cellular communication is beyond that scope. Freddy could only push the boundaries of restriction for so long...

Right. You should get back before... more odd things happen.

But when you turned around—wait, where were you again?

...

You're lost.

....

you're probably fucked up lost.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the clock struck 4:00 A.M., you managed to stumble your way into Rockstar Row—it took you around an hour and a half to get back? That place was way beyond the scope that the Fazwatch provided you, it was a whole new hidden area! How else were you able to find your way back? It had numerous pathways that—weren't even pathways to begin with! They were piles of concrete and construction work no longer finished and eventually forgotten. It was a miracle you managed to (amidst all efforts) get back to the starting point in that office.

The office was in the same state as you first saw it. But earlier, monitors above the table were in static, now, they were pitch black and reflective—they were off. You did some digging—you saw old folders and the like, but the papers were too old, beyond recognizable. It was incomprehensible.

But one thing is for sure, one of the papers were about... a murder.

A murder of a series of five missing kids who were found dead in... springlock suits? No, not just springlock suits... animatronics from a prior location. Were they mascots? You have no clue.

And one of them... happened to be Freddy.

An earlier build of Freddy, maybe during the years when this Freddy wasn't built yet, wasn't existing.

But... this was the same Freddy, right?

You shook your thoughts away, opening your eyes to view the magnificent stature of the Pizzaplex's namesake. There's no point thinking about it, since you were no longer in... that area.

Just in time, you heard heavy footsteps—the vibration on the carpets was a welcomed sensation. You turned around and spotted a bulk of orange and blue in your view—electric blue eyes glowing despite the dim lights of the Pizzaplex. "Freddy."

"(YN)." He paused in front of you, taking a quick glance around to see if anyone else was nearby. Then, he looked down at you. "Where were you? You were gone for exactly one hour, fifty-four minutes, and thirteen seconds."

"That long...? I uh... I got lost." You scratched the back of your head. You were contemplating, thinking of what you should say. Heck, you didn't even KNOW if you were seeing the real deal—or you were just hallucinating.

Phasing through the wall—that doesn't sound logical, it falls under hallucination at best.

Would Freddy believe you, however? That entity is purely logical, and this one—is far from the realm and bounds of logic.

But of course, nothing escapes his eyes... and processors.

"(Y/N), what happened during your individual exploration?"

"My... exploration?" you were airheaded—what were you saying?

Right, the... exploration.

"There's... this place beyond the maps... it was... disgusting."

"Disgusting... how so?"

"Unkempt, its kinda... unmaintained..." you tried to make a gesture—you don't know why, there's no purpose of making such gestures. "There's this security office."

"Security office? I do not recall a security office location beyond the map. Are you certain?" he leaned closer, as if studying your expression—because he is.

You adverted your gaze briefly. "I saw... I think I... saw Vanessa."

"That's great news, did you ask the questions you were ought to get answers to?"

"...No." you sighed, you barely even had the chance to make her utter a word. But one feature was striking. "She was wearing this... scary mask."

"Mask? Surgical masks? Gas masks?"

"A... Halloween mask? It was bunny shaped and... it was unnerving. I think I've seen that somewhere before." But every time the memory tries to resurface, immense phantom pain shoots through your body—even somewhere in the back of your head. You don't know but... as if the memory was associated with something... really painful.

Was it a memory? Was it... wait...

Does it have something to do with... that incident? The whole—memory loss and painful injury kind of... incident?

Why? Did that mask... mean something?

Vanessa was injured that day too, was she wearing the mask that time? Or was it someone else?

But...

You subconsciously moved an arm behind you, touching around your back from over the shoulder—you could feel the lines of a scar from your injury that day, it never faded. It left a mark to highlight the cruel reminder of something you barely remember.

Barely... was an understatement... or an overstatement? You don't know anymore.

"A mask..." the animatronic paused, his systems retrieving a specific memory he hid behind a drive he kept, somewhere far from reach from any Fazbear technician—a backdoor loop he made to keep his... personal memories. That's how he managed to keep yours and his relationship from maintenance staff...

And its where he did... that memory.

He could recall it clearly as if it was a recorded movie played in HD. The moment he first booted up after the... entire factory reset in his systems. He could recall seeing a mask of similar description—on Vanessa (?), no, it wasn't on Vanessa...

Wait, why can't he remember clearly?

He remembered taking Vanessa out of that suffocating suit, that suit was.... A mascot-type costume for whatever purpose it serves the establishment. It could be... a performer demanded upon by management? But then again, why a security guard?

But that mask... he could have sworn seeing a mask but where?

Was it on Vanessa? No, if he remembered correctly, there wasn't a mask there, but how come he knew that a mask exists at that very moment?

Where did he see that? And why couldn't he remember anything about it?

Did someone... tamper with his data storage? Did someone discover his... backdoor code? The secret space he leaves personal memories and knowledge? His personal drive?

If so... why would they tamper that specific memory?

Why is that mask so important?!

"—eddy? Fred?" he snapped out of it when a hand nudged his metallic arm—yours.

"Pardon?" he was clueless, busy absorbing himself in some sort of internal diagnosis and configuration about memories and data he wasn't even sure he had to begin with.

Then, there's you.

"You mentioned seeing Vanessa... you hinted that she refused to acknowledge you, nor communicate. Where is she now?" Freddy questioned before you could even repeat whatever you were saying a moment ago. He figured—if he wants answers, then best he head straight to the source herself.

But where is she? How did you lose her?

"I lost her.", and that speaks a lot. It appears; no more words were needed to be communicated. "I swear—I was chasing after her! I focused on her tracks but—"

"But what?"

... how can you seriously admit to someone that you faceplanted on a grotesque surface of some concrete wall?

"I hit the wall." Yeah, pretty straightforward. Way to go, (Y/N). "It's like—she phased through it! I didn't even know what happened!"

At least, as far as you were concerned, that's exactly how it happened. But it might look differently from an external view, maybe, the figure ran the other way? And she just thought the figure phased through the wall?

But you knew what you saw, you knew Vanessa went that way.

But physically and logically, how?

"(Y/N), are you sure you're alright? I sense signs of sleep deprivation and potential hallucinations. You are required to visit the clinic—"

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm serious! I really DID saw her!" you cut him off; you didn't have the patience to deal with his endless yapping—and who the hell even supervises the clinic at this hour?! Definitely, you wouldn't want to be tended of by automation.

Well, except Freddy... and the others, maybe.

"I'm not... crazy, okay—stop looking at me like I've lost my mind!"

"I did not mean to make it look like you were on the verge of breaking your mind." he clarified, then, tilted his head—as if picking up a sound. "I have automatically finished your duties for the night. I request you seek refuge and rest in my greenroom for the time being. I will revoke your permissions to roam the Pizzaplex without actual rest." He made his ultimatum, a finger raised up to prove his point. The light of the morning rays were streaming in through the stained windows, an indicator that morning has risen, and you—were in serious need of rest.

Using this tone on you, you knew you were unable to refute further. Even so, there's no way the animatronic would let you slip by without adherence to his law.

"...Fine." You'll just investigate later. Maybe, Vanessa would show up soon, and you could take the afternoon and night shift to confront her. surely, she can't stay missing forever, right? According to Freddy a few moments ago, vanessa successfully and efficiently accommodated all her tasks for the night. Moreover, if you come look for her now, there is a very small chance you'd catch glimpse of her existence.

Perhaps, this could wait tomorrow.

Maybe... you could search for clues about that... mask.