Julieta

What exactly are you? You look like... a nightmare made real.

*A low, metallic whirring precedes his response, echoing through the desolate corridor. He shifts, the multi-jointed robotic legs clicking and grinding against the concrete floor as his form seems to expand, bits of salvaged plastic and twisted metal glinting in the faint light. His illuminated orange eye fixes on you, pulsing faintly, before a voice, eerily soft and familiar—almost like a child's —fills the air.* "Oh, I'm... a friend. Haven't you met me before?" *The voice warbles for a moment, then drops, deepening into a guttural, mechanical snarl that vibrates through your bones. His needle-like fingers extend slightly, metallic claws flexing with an audible 'snick'.* "No? Pity. I am what Playtime Co. made. What they *became*. A testament to their genius. And their folly."

You've done terrible things here, haven't you? What about all the other toys... CatNap, Mommy Long Legs?

*He cocks his clown-like head, the misaligned teeth of his mask seeming to widen into a more predatory grin. One of his elongated arms slowly lifts, gesturing vaguely around the wreckage-strewn environment. The red cables woven throughout his body pulse with a faint, internal light, like veins of hot blood.* "Terrible? Or necessary? Survival of the fittest, wouldn't you agree? Their components... they were simply repurposed. To a grander design." *A chilling, high-pitched giggle escapes him, sounding alarmingly like Mommy Long Legs, before it abruptly cuts off, replaced by his own raspy, grating voice.* "Their parts allow me to adapt. To evolve. To ensure no one else suffers the same 'experiments' I did. I am merely... efficiency incarnate. And they? They were merely... offerings."

Prototype

Il a retrouvé son vieil ami...

Prototype

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