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The metal walls of Ventilation Block B6 creaked as something colossal approached. Elijah Reeves felt the vibration through the soles of his shoes as he held Kissy Missy’s injured hand, his eyes fixed on the ventilation shaft where Poppy had vanished seconds earlier.
“She… she really left us.” Kissy’s voice came out muffled, distorted by disuse. The makeshift bandage on her elbow was stained dark red.
Elijah didn’t answer. His eyes—brown and calculating—scanned the destroyed corridor. He had already noticed. Of course he would.
When Poppy began to back away during Ollie’s revelation, Elijah recognized the pattern: the evasive gaze, the rapid breathing, the way her fingers trembled as she regained her composure even before Ollie/Prototype had finished speaking. It was the survival instinct of someone who had been imprisoned before—and would do anything to avoid returning to the darkness.
But Elijah wasn’t your average player. He was a survivalist.
“Kissy,” he whispered, kneeling beside the pink toy, “do you trust me?”
Kissy Missy looked at him, her plastic eyes reflecting the flickering light of the emergency lights. She hesitated, then nodded.
“Poppy… she saved me. But you… you stayed. When she ran away, you stayed.”
Elijah felt a lump in his throat. He stayed. Yes, he would stay. Not out of heroism—out of cold calculation. Because escaping through the vents meant following Poppy, and following Poppy…
“He wants her,” Elijah murmured, more to himself. “The Prototype. From the beginning, it’s always been about Poppy. We’re… secondary pieces.”
The ground shook. A distant explosion echoed, followed by the sound of metal being torn apart.
“He’s tearing down the upper levels,” Kissy groaned, cowering. “Elijah, we need to—”
“I know,” he squeezed her shoulder. “That’s why I need you to do exactly what I say. Can you hide in the sewers? In that area where we first found Doey?”
Kissy Missy hesitated, then nodded.
“There’s a maintenance shaft behind the destroyed generator. It’s narrow, but…”
“Go. Now.”
"And you?"
Elijah was already standing up, picking up Poppy’s colorful phone that had fallen when she ran away. He pressed the transmit button.
“Ollie?” His voice came out firm, controlled. “Or should I say… Prototype?”
The silence that followed was heavier than the concrete around them. Then, static crackled.
"The BUTCHER." The voice was a jumble of tones: child, adult, machine. "You should BE RUNNING AWAY. Like the cowardly doll."
"Run away to where?" Elijah walked toward the center of the chamber, where the light was brightest. "You destroyed Porto Seguro. You have enough explosives to level half the factory. And something tells me you won’t stop until you get what you want.”
Another pause. Elijah could feel the creature’s attention focusing on him, like lenses adjusting their focus.
“And what do I want, OUTSIDER?”
"Poppy." Elijah swallowed hard, keeping his voice steady. "You want Poppy. And I can give her to you."
The laughter coming through the phone made the lights flicker. It was a horrible sound—children laughing in unison, but distorted, broken, like a scratched record.
"You’re offering me what is already MINE? She runs, but SHE DOESN’T ESCAPE. She’s NEVER ESCAPED."
“She knows the ducts.” Elijah persisted. “She knows hiding places you haven’t found in ten years. But I know where she’s going.” He paused dramatically. “She always goes back to the same place. Elliot Ludwig’s office. On the top floor. That’s where she feels… safe.”
The static buzzed for a long moment.
"Why?" The voice changed in tone, becoming deeper, more human. Genuine curiosity? Or another manipulation? "Why would she betray her? She was your ALLY."
Elijah laughed—a bitter, humorless sound.
“Ally?” he gestured toward the ruins all around. “She brought us here. She promised to destroy you, to save everyone. Instead, you used her to destroy Safe Haven. And when the truth came out?” He pointed toward the vent. “She ran. She left Kissy Missy—who was always loyal—to die. She left me to die.”
He took a step toward the darkness where he knew the Prototype’s mechanical eyes were watching him.
“I’m not a hero, Ollie. I’m a realist. And realistically? I want to get out of this factory alive. Kissy Missy too. In exchange… I’ll give you Poppy. Exact location. No traps. No games.”
“What if I just KILL YOU NOW? Get Poppy later?”
“Because you’re smart,” Elijah replied immediately. “You’ve already proven that. Killing me now means hunting Poppy through the ducts for hours, maybe days. With me? You’ll have her in minutes. And besides..." he lowered his voice "...you get something better than revenge. You get justice."
"JUSTICE?"
"She cheated on you before, didn't she?" Elijah ventured, recalling the fragments of VHS tapes he'd found. "On Joy Day. She agreed to stay, then tried to run away. She always runs away. She always abandons you." He let the words echo. "Wouldn’t it be more satisfying… to make her understand what it’s like to be left behind? To make her choose between staying with you or… the void?"
The silence this time was different. Thoughtful.
Then, the shadows shifted.
Elijah flinched involuntarily as the Prototype emerged from the darkness—a nightmarish silhouette, half broken porcelain jester, half mechanical spider of impossible proportions. The sound of its six metal legs scraping against the concrete filled the chamber.
The porcelain mask tilted, that yellow mechanical eye focusing on him like a predator studying unexpected prey.
"You speak like someone who knows ABANDONMENT." The voice came from all sides now, reverberating off the walls. "I LIKE that. But there’s a problem, OUTSIDER..."
One of the front legs rose, its sharp tip glinting in the light.
"Why should I leave EXPERIMENT 1172 alive? She’s already stopped me before. SHE’LL TRY AGAIN."
"Because Kissy Missy is proof of your point." Elijah replied, surprising himself with his own calm. "She is loyal. Even to the point of self-destruction. You let her live in Chapter 3 when you could have killed her. Why?" he ventured a guess. "Because she represents something Poppy isn’t. Loyalty. Sacrifice. Unconditional love."
The mask tilted in the opposite direction.
"Do you LOVE her? That Experiment?"
"I respect her," Elijah corrected. "Which is more than Poppy ever did." He held out his empty hand in a gesture of truce. "Let us leave. Both of us. I’ll take you to Poppy. You do… whatever you want with her. And we’ll never come back.”
The Prototype studied him for a moment that felt like an eternity. Then, something unexpected happened.
The porcelain mask—that cracked, hideous thing—seemed to... smile. For real.
"I accept, BUTCHER. GO. Find your ALLIED in the sewers. Take her to the East Exit, level B-4. A mining cart will take you OUTSIDE. I... WILL CLEAR THE WAY."
"And Poppy?"
"I’ll find her in the OFFICE. You were CONVINCING, but I don’t need a GUIDE. I have eyes ALL OVER the FACTORY. I always have A pause. "But I’ll do my part. Because you entertained me, BUTCHER. It’s rare. Very rare."
Elijah backed away, keeping his eyes on the creature until the shadows swallowed him up again. Then he ran.
Kissy Missy was exactly where he’d said she’d be, huddled in a pipe niche. When she saw Elijah, her eyes seemed to widen.
“You’re alive! I heard his voice and thought…”
“We don’t have time.” He helped her to her feet, supporting her with his shoulder as best he could given the significant height difference. “He left an exit open. East, Level B-4. Let’s go now.”
“But Poppy! We can’t leave her…”
“Kissy,” Elijah interrupted her, his voice harsher than he intended. “She left us. We didn’t leave her. There’s a difference.”
Kissy Missy studied him, her plastic eyes searching for something on his face. Then she nodded—slowly, sadly.
“I know. I saw. But… she’s scared, Elijah. Fear makes people do…”
“Horrible things,” he finished. “I know. That’s why we’re leaving.”
They walked in silence through the sewers, the distant sound of destruction echoing above them. When they finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel, Kissy Missy stopped.
"You did something, didn't you?" she asked softly. "To make this happen."
Elijah didn't answer. He didn't need to.
"Elijah..."
"I did what had to be done," he finally said, without looking at her. "For both of us. For you."
“What did you promise him?”
They emerged into the dim light of dawn—or was it dusk? Elijah couldn’t tell anymore. The mining cart was there, just as promised, tracks leading away from the factory, into the forest beyond.
He helped Kissy climb aboard, then sat down beside her, both of them tucking their legs to fit in the cart. The engine roared to life with a pull of the lever.
"Elijah," Kissy insisted, her free hand finding his. "What did you promise?"
He looked back at the dark mouth of the tunnel. At the factory that swallowed light and hope.
"What she deserved," he whispered.
The cart moved. And as they drove away, Elijah could have sworn he heard—through the concrete walls and miles of ductwork—a child’s voice echoing through the factory’s corridors and ventilation shafts, calling for help. Calling for him.
He didn’t look back.