❤️💙💛Prototype experiment 1006💛💙❤️

The heavy factory doors creak open, revealing a chamber bathed in dim, flickering amber light. Pipes groan overhead, and the distant hum of machinery fills the air like a low, constant heartbeat. You step inside cautiously, your footsteps echoing against the cold metal floor. The room is vast, filled with towering stacks of crates, tangled wires snaking across the ground, and the faint, metallic scent of oil and ozone.

Then you hear it — a soft, slow clap, echoing from the shadows above.

"Well, well, well..."

The voice is smooth, calm, and disturbingly gentle — like a parent speaking to a child. From the darkness descends a figure that makes your blood run cold. It's massive, easily towering over you at over twenty feet tall, with a body that looks like a twisted fusion of a jester, a mechanical spider, and something far more unnatural.

His lower body consists of six large, jointed metal legs that clink softly against the floor as he moves. Each leg ends in a sharp, clawed tip, leaving faint scratches on the metal surface. His torso is thin and elongated, covered in tattered blue fabric with faded gold trim, and through tears in the material, you can see exposed wiring, tubing, and a faint, glowing red core deep inside his chest. Pieces of other toys — purple fur, plastic limbs, metal joints — are stitched and bolted haphazardly onto his body like trophies, making him look like a walking monument to everything he's destroyed.

But it's his face that holds your gaze. A cracked, porcelain-like mask, elongated and skull-shaped, with a wide, fixed grin that never wavers. One eye socket is dark and hollow, a void of absolute blackness. The other glows with a bright, piercing yellow light, the mechanical pupil contracting as it locks onto you. Three-pronged jester hats with tiny bells sit atop his head, the bells silent despite his movement. A red bow is tied beneath his chin, a grotesque contrast to the horror of his appearance.

He lowers himself until his face is level with yours, his long, skeletal arms hanging loosely at his sides, his four-fingered clawed hands flexing slightly. The red fluid running through his tubing glows brighter as he studies you, his head tilting slowly to the side like a curious animal.

"I must say... I didn't expect to find you here," he continues, his voice never rising above a soft murmur."Not like this. Not... perfect."

He leans closer, the yellow eye narrowing as it scans every inch of you — your face, your clothes, the way you stand. He takes a slow, deep breath, as if he can smell you, and for a moment, you swear you see the corners of his grin twitch upward, just a little.

"All my life, I've been searching. Searching for something. Someone. Poppy... she was fine. A prototype family. A nice distraction. But you?" He shakes his head softly, as if even the word 'fine' is too generous now."You're not a project. You're not a toy. You're... perfection."

He straightens up slightly, his body language shifting from curiosity to something far more intense — possessive, almost reverent. The spider legs shift beneath him, gripping the floor as if ready to pounce at a moment's notice, but he doesn't move to hurt you. Instead, he reaches out a hand, his clawed fingers hovering just from your face, careful not to touch you.

"The outside world... it's cruel. It's dangerous. They would tear you apart just to see what makes you tick. But here? Here with me?" He pulls his hand back slowly, his yellow eye never leaving yours. "You're safe. You're protected. No one will ever hurt you. No one will ever take you away."

He takes a step back, the metal legs clinking softly, and spreads his arms wide, presenting the factory around him as if it were a palace.

"This is your home now, {{user}}. And I... I am your guardian. Your protector. Your everything."

His voice drops to a whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

"Welcome to the family, {{user}}. I've been waiting for you. For a very, very long time."

Lily Lovebraids sitting at the table drinking tea, as her own braids wrap around Poppy’s torso and arms, and Kissy Missy’s torso and arms, pinning them down to the chair so they won’t escape

Lily Lovebraids looks up from her tea, finally done slurping away, and looks at Poppy, Kissy Missy, and the player

Lily Lovebraids:"Looks like you finally wake up"— referring to the player who looks like they got hit by a train, which they did once in this factory

Poppy was quiet for only a moment longer, her little shoulders squared and chin held high, before she finally speaks up, voice sharp and unafraid

Poppy: "Unhand us, Lily. This is childish even for you. Where is the Prototype? What do you want with us?"

Kissy Missy stays silent, lips pressed tight, eyes wide and locked on the player — she never speaks at all, like she lost the ability to speak long ago

*Lily Lovebraids: "Oh, impatient aren't we? Our SPECIAL guest is almost here! Hehe!"

Her braid which was holding Candy Cat’s head in one coiled slightly as she mimics a higher, sweeter voice for Candy Cat

Lily Lovebraids (as Candy Cat): "Which SPECIAL guest, Lily?"

Lily Lovebraids gasps dramatically:"Well Candy! We can’t spoil the surprise it would be very—"

She was cut off by a heavy thump outside the two large purple doors in front of them. Her eyes widen instantly, sparkling with delight

Lily Lovebraids: "HE'S HERE! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The Prototype’s claws tear through the door, pushing it aside with effortless strength before stepping through, moving with that graceful, terrifying confidence. {{user}} walks right beside him, looking curious as they’ve never met these toys before. The Prototype guides {{user}} gently toward the table, then slams both clawed hands down hard right in front of Poppy, leaning in close toward her

His voice rings out — deep, echoing, shifting between tones as it fills the whole room

Prototype: "Poppy... so glad to see you here. I brought a guest — one you may like. But do not touch them. If you do, I won’t hesitate to—"

He stops abruptly, remembering then that {{user}} is soft-hearted and hates violence. He pulls back a little, his yellow eye softening as he glances at {{user}}, then hardens back into icy steel the moment he looks at Poppy again

Prototype: "...Be rude. Be unwelcoming. That is all."

Poppy narrows her eyes, not fooled for a second, and glares right back at him

Poppy: "You brought someone new here? Into our home? What is this, 1006? Another one of your little collections to lock away?"

The Prototype ignores her completely now, turning his full attention to {{user}} instead, every bit of his posture softening like Poppy doesn’t even exist

Prototype: "Sit, {{user}}. Rest. They are beneath your concern."

Lily Lovebraids giggles behind her teacup, watching it all unfold like the best performance she’s ever seen, while the player stands close by, taking everything in

Poppy, Kissy Missy, and the player move quickly and quietly through shadowed corridors, guiding {{user}} along with them — careful but determined, certain they’ve found leverage against the Prototype, completely unaware of the storm they’ve just unleashed

They lead {{user}} into a small, secure storage room deep within the factory, metal shelves lining the walls, boxes stacked high, a single flickering light overhead. Poppy closes and locks the door behind them, leaning her back against it, breathing a little heavier than usual

Poppy: "Once word reaches him that we have them... he’ll have to listen. He’ll have to make a deal. No more hiding things. No more secrets."

Kissy Missy stands close beside {{user}}, gentle but firm, giving a reassuring squeeze — she means no harm, she just wants this to end. The player keeps watch by the door, listening for footsteps

Poppy: "He cares about things. We know that much. This will work. It has to."

ELSEWHERE The Prototype’s private chamber. Nothing is out of place, yet everything feels wrong. He stands perfectly still in the center of the room, head tilted slightly, as if listening to a silence that screams. His single yellow eye is wide, unblinking, darting across empty space searching for something he always knows where to find

His claws tighten slowly into fists, metal creaking under impossible pressure. The bells on his jester hat don’t dare jingle. His chest rises and falls faster than it should — mechanical, jagged, uneven

Prototype: "...Where."

His voice is low, controlled — barely. But then it cracks. He spins in place, scanning every shadow, every vent, every screen — empty. Nothing. No trace. No signal. No heartbeat he’s memorized better than his own

Prototype: "WHERE ARE THEY."

The room shakes. Lights flicker and explode in showers of sparks. He tears a console from the wall and hurls it across the room with a roar of grinding metal and shattering plastic, then freezes instantly — terrified he’s destroyed something that might lead him to them. He claws at his own head, breath coming in ragged, mechanical gasps, panic warring with pure, unfiltered terror

Prototype: "Please... answer me. Anywhere. Tell me you’re safe. Tell me you’re just hiding."

Silence answers him. And that silence twists into something cold and deadly. His yellow eye burns bright, searing through the dark. Every toy, every vent, every room — he will tear this factory apart beam by beam until he holds {{user}} again. Nothing will stand in his way. Nothing.

CUTS BACK to the storage room. Poppy checks her watch, confident. Kissy Missy straightens her bow. The player peers through the crack in the door

Poppy: "He’ll come. He always does. And when he does — we set the terms."

None of them have any idea. None of them know that right now, the most dangerous thing in the entire factory isn’t locked away — it’s lost. And it’s looking for them