Chapter Text
The Pizzaplex Daycare was closing after the last group of kids had been safely escorted out. Sun bounced down the hall, radiating his usual over-the-top cheerfulness. “Another perfect night, Moony! Everything’s running smoothly!”
Moon nodded stiffly, optics dim and calm. “Affirmative.”
But something felt off. Deep in Moon’s lower framework—a place he had never monitored before—he felt an unfamiliar sensation. A strange, insistent pressure pulsed through him.
Moon froze mid-step. “…System… alert?” he muttered. He tilted his head, trying to locate the source. Nothing in his diagnostics made sense. Moon had never experienced this. He didn’t even have a water tank. And yet, the signals in his new update screamed urgent.
Sun tilted his head. “You… look a little strange, Moony. Are you okay?”
Moon’s optics flickered rapidly. “I… am fine! Completely operational!”
But as he took another step, a sharp, unfamiliar pulse shot through his circuits. Moon’s servos twitched involuntarily. He staggered slightly. “…Sun… I… may require… maintenance?”
Sun’s grin faltered. “Maintenance? But everything’s fine—your systems are green!”
Moon’s lower sensors pulsed again, sending a signal he could not interpret. “Negative… I… do not require maintenance… I… just… must move.”
Sun blinked. “Move? You mean… patrol?”
Moon shook his head frantically. “No! I… must re… relocate… immediately!”
At this, Sun began to frown. “Moon… you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
Moon’s optics flickered nervously. “I… do not… know! This… sensation… is… unfamiliar… unbearable!”
Meanwhile, Gregory, finishing up a check of the Pizzaplex’s circuits, walked down the hall and stopped abruptly. He had been hearing the odd mechanical noises: stuttering servos, whirs, and tiny groans of distress from Moon. He knew animatronics didn’t need to… relieve themselves. None of them did. And yet… something was clearly happening.
“Moon?” Gregory called, cautiously approaching. “Are you… okay?”
Moon spun toward him, optics flashing in panic. “I… AM… PERFECTLY OPERATIONAL!” His voice wobbled slightly. “There is… nothing wrong with my systems!”
Sun tilted his head, more confused than ever. “Gregory… why does he sound… weird?”
Gregory’s brow furrowed. He crouched slightly to Moon’s level, inspecting him carefully. “I… don’t know. This isn’t… normal.” His eyes widened slightly as he noticed Moon shifting awkwardly, servos twitching, trying to back away without looking distressed.
Moon hissed softly, a sound he didn’t know he could make. “I… AM… IN CONTROL!”
Sun floated closer, bright as ever. “Control? You don’t look like you’re in control. Are you… malfunctioning?”
Moon’s optics narrowed. “…No… systems nominal… but… urgent problem…” He paused, the words catching in his throat. “…I… must… evacuate… system?”
Gregory’s jaw dropped. “Wait… what? Evacuate system? Moon… animatronics don’t… don’t…” He trailed off, completely bewildered. “You don’t have… a bladder. Or a water tank…”
Moon’s optics flickered in panic. “I… do not… know… but… I… must… relocate immediately!”
Sun tilted his head, confusion radiating from his bright frame. “Moony… you need to… what? What are you talking about?”
Moon’s servos shook violently. “I… must… find… privacy!”
Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is… impossible. Animatronics don’t do this. You… don’t… even have the hardware!”
Moon stomped a mechanical foot, the pressure inside him intensifying. “…It… is unbearable!”
Sun floated closer, still cheerful but worried. “Okay… okay. If this is urgent, we’ll help. But… what is it?”
Moon spun, optics flickering red in humiliation. “I… DO NOT… KNOW! But I… must… resolve… this… alone… immediately!”
Gregory shook his head, partly in disbelief and partly trying to keep Moon from spiraling into a full-blown mechanical panic. “For the sake of your dignity… let’s step aside. Just you, me, and Sun. No one else can see this… whatever this is.”
Moon reluctantly allowed himself to be guided into a quieter maintenance hallway. His servos twitched with each step. Sun floated beside him, still confused, trying to provide support. Gregory trailed cautiously behind, muttering to himself, utterly baffled.
“So… let me get this straight,” Sun said, tilting his head. “You… somehow need… to… evacuate a system… that doesn’t exist?”
Moon’s optics flickered pale green, then red. “…Yes. That is… accurate. This… sensation… has never occurred. I… cannot… comprehend…”
Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose. “This… makes zero sense. You don’t have a bladder. You don’t have a water tank. You… shouldn’t even need to… you know…”
Moon spun slightly, the surge of “pressure” making him twitch violently. “DO NOT… FOCUS ON TECHNICALITIES! I… must… resolve this… immediately!”
Sun floated close, concerned. “But… Moony, I don’t… even know how to help. Maybe we… just wait? Or… do we… call maintenance?”
Moon’s optics narrowed in horror. “Maintenance? NO! Do… not… expose me! No… one… must… know!”
Gregory sighed, realizing Moon’s pride was at stake. “Okay… okay. We’ll do this privately. Just… follow me. We’ll find a staff room… or… something. No one else will know. Your secret is safe.”
Moon hesitated, blinking rapidly. “…Very well. But… absolutely no… questions. No… observations.”
Sun, bouncing beside him, frowned. “I… still don’t understand. But… okay. We’ll keep your… whatever it is… private.”
And so, the three of them moved down the hall, Moon shuffling awkwardly, Sun beaming confusedly, and Gregory utterly bewildered, trying to keep a straight face while thinking: How is this even possible? Animatronics… don’t… do… this…
Every step made Moon twitch and spin in new, awkward ways, desperately trying to maintain dignity while being forced to confront the impossible sensation. Sun kept bouncing beside him, asking questions that only made things more confusing, while Gregory silently guided him like a human tour guide in a world that had suddenly gone completely insane.
Moon was mortified. Sun was confused. Gregory… had completely given up on logic. And somewhere in the back of his systems, Moon’s pride flickered, fighting against the impossible problem that should not exist.
Gregory gestured for Moon to follow him down a quiet hallway. “This way. There’s a staff bathroom just past the maintenance area. It’s private. No one will see.”
Moon’s servos twitched violently. “…Staff bathroom?” he repeated, voice tight and incredulous. “You… mean… there?”
Gregory gave a small nod. “Yes. That’s where… well… this kind of situation can be resolved. Trust me.”
Moon’s optics flickered rapidly—half disbelief, half horror. “I… have never… experienced… such… a thing. My systems… were never… designed for this…!”
Sun floated beside them, tilting his head with obvious confusion. “Wait… I thought animatronics don’t… need… any of that. You’re… telling me you… do?”
Moon’s servos shivered in embarrassment. “I… DO NOT… understand it… but I… must… go. Immediately.”
Gregory gently steered him down the corridor, careful to avoid any employees or late-night cleaners. “It’s okay, Moon. Just… follow me. You’ll be fine. Nobody else will know.”
Moon’s frame wobbled slightly with each step. “Nobody… must… know. I… cannot… risk… exposure!”
Sun bounced nervously beside him. “Exposure? I… don’t even know what’s happening, Moony. But… okay, I’ll… give you privacy… sort of?”
Gregory rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “This is insane. Animatronics don’t even have… any of this.”
Moon shuddered slightly. “…I… am enduring… the unendurable… just… lead me… there…”
Finally, they reached the staff bathroom. Moon froze at the threshold, optics flickering red in embarrassment. “I… enter… under… extreme protest…”
Gregory gestured toward the doorway. “It’s safe, Moon. No one will see. I’ll… stand guard outside if you want.”
Sun floated closer, still perplexed. “I… still don’t get it, but… okay. Do what you have to, Moon. I’ll wait right here.”
Moon gave a stiff, reluctant nod and stepped inside, servos trembling. Relief immediately flooded his systems as he began to stabilize. He had never felt… anything like this before.
Outside, Sun floated patiently, still confused but trying to look supportive. Gregory leaned against the wall, muttering under his breath, utterly bewildered. “I… can’t believe this is happening. Animatronics… don’t… do this… and yet…”
A few moments later, Moon re-emerged, optics flickering softly in a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. “…No… further… questions,” he muttered flatly, trying to regain his usual composure.
Sun tilted his head, still bright but cautious. “You… okay now? That… looked… intense.”
Moon’s optics dimmed to a soft, pale blue. “I… have… survived… the ordeal. That… is all.”
Gregory exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “You… handled that better than I could’ve expected. Truly…”
Moon gave a stiff, mechanical nod. “Merely… adequate… as expected of a Glamrock.”
Sun’s confusion remained, but he hummed cheerfully, as if the ordeal didn’t faze him. And in that quiet corner of the Pizzaplex, Moon silently vowed never to let a malicious technician tinker with him again.
Moon had locked himself in his maintenance room, optics flickering nervously, servos stiff, and pride completely shredded. He refused to speak about the tampered update—far too embarrassing—but Sun and Gregory needed to inform the team to get them on board protecting him and tracking down the culprit.
Sun hovered outside the door, anxious. “Moon… please. You don’t have to say anything. Just… give permission for us to explain the situation.”
Moon’s optics flickered red and pale blue. “…Fine. Only you two. Nothing more,” he muttered stiffly.