Chapter Text
It turns out that the living, rotting corpse and the survivor's-guilt-ridden widower were the only people to know the building was about to fall, crumble, and burn.
Michael Afton - murderer, griever, and survivor extraordinare - had been paranoid, and for good reason. His father was evil, yes, and smart, that too, and while Michael hated putting him in a positive light, he had to admit that William was no fool. He always had something up his sleeve, a last minute change, a step ahead. Would the foul rabbit (because yes, that was really all William was anymore) know of the fire in advance? Would he escape? Put it out? Ruin things? William had survived the Fazbear Frights fire, and that was what put this one in jeopardy for Mike. Could he just... not die? Again? To be perfectly honest, the corpse had no idea how William had squirmed his way out of that one (It certainly could not have included smooth talking, for the love of all that was holy). His eyes darted around, looking for Helpy. He probably needed to find his lawsuit robot...
Henry Emily - murderer, griever, and survivor extraordinare - was preparing a speech. He was going to die today, Mike was going to truly die today, and so many more would be freed. (One in particular would go to hell, one way or another.) But... something felt off. It wasn't meant to be like this, ever. The poor Afton kids - all of them had suffered too much. Much too much. All of those children who never got to live out their lives and would never get to live out their lives were simply destined for the afterlife. It wasn't fair, certainly not. Still... In his conundrum, Henry had (rather hastily) written a speech that, now that he looked over it, could probably bring people to tears. His Language Arts teacher always said he would have a bright and open career path down that way. Maybe if he had listened to her advice...
Somewhere else in the decrepit old back alleys of the pizzeria, what was left of Circus Baby had shambled her way over to a miniature Funtime Freddy that was holding a lawsuit and wearing glasses. Her emotions towards this... character... were mixed. She hissed, "Why do you get to be fixed up and nice, out of all of us?"
The little Freddy looked up at her. "Hello, Scrap Baby! I'm Helpy. How can I Help-y you today?" It giggled.