Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He messed up. He messed up big time. Gregory was so eager, so desperate to get back to Freddy, so sure that there wasn’t anything in the way, that he neglected to check the cameras.  He failed to see that Chica had been summoned by the endoskeletons. They had sent out a general alert upon Gregory’s entry into their space, which usually was meant for the engineers that worked on them. That way, no one would be able to enter the space without someone knowing, and if that person was unauthorized security could come and deal with the intruder.

But tonight was different, was wrong, and so the alert went to the Glamrocks. Chica was closest, and with how Gregory had to play red-light-green-light with the endoskeletons, she had ample time to make her way towards underground storage.

The doors were right there. Freddy was right there . Before he could reach his only protector, Chica came around the corner, arms dangling and head askew. Gregory froze.

“Greeegorrryyyyyy…”

There weren’t any places to hide. There weren’t any walls or obstacles to dart around. He could juke past her but Gregory wasn’t sure he could undo whatever the security guard had done to Freddy before Chica got him. Her head raised and her eyes found him. Chica’s arms lifted, ready to grab him, and her eyes somehow held a hungry light in them.

“F-F-Found you!” she exclaimed. Gregory yelped and stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet. His backside hit the ground hard but survival instincts had him scrambling backwards, intent on gaining as much time and distance as he could before Chica began her advance.

As Gregory moved away from Chica, he saw her eyes flick up at something past him. Confused, Gregory kept moving until he collided with something solid. Something metal. Something that took a step back as the boy rubbed the back of his head, which stung from the collision. Gregory’s eyes were on Chica the entire time, but when he saw she had stopped moving and was not looking at him, he turned to see what he had hit. A pair of legs greeted him, and as his gaze traveled upwards, Gregory couldn’t decide if he should be frightened.

The robot he had run into - because it couldn’t be an animatronic, not the way it was designed or the way Chica was hesitating - was close to Freddy’s height, and was wearing robes. Actual clothes, not like the fake leg warmers on Chica or the shoulder pads every Glamrock sported. Purple highlighted its legs and arms, and emanated from the strange orb floating in the crook of the staff it was holding. The robot’s face was etched in stone, and seemed angry. The nine red dots further pushed the anger that the robot’s face was projecting, but instead of actual anger, Gregory felt a sense of confusion and curiosity coming from the robot as it looked down at him. Its gaze slowly swung back to Chica, and with no movement from any sort of mouth, it spoke.

“Tell me, sister, why do you hunt this human?” it asked. Gregory’s stomach plummeted, but he didn’t move. The robot could easily grab him.

Chica’s eyes twitched and her beak spasmed. Gregory felt the confusion turn halfway to concern. “He-he-he’s tres-s-s-s-spass-ss-ssing on Fazb-b-bear Entertainment-ment-ment property-ty-ty! I have to take him to Offi-ficer Van-Van- Vanny -Vanessa right away so she c-c-can cont-t-tact his p-p-parents-nts-nts-nts.”

“Is that so?” the robot mused. “Then why is the boy showing signs of fear equal to that of a cornered animal? I admit that I despise humans, but children are innocent of the crimes humanity has committed against omnics.”

Omnics? Gregory’s face screwed up at the unfamiliar word, but had little time to do much else as the unfamiliar robot reached down and scooped him up in one fluid motion.

“As you are scaring the child, sister, I will escort him off the premises,” the robot stated. “Go and tell… Officer Vanessa that the issue has been resolved.” With a turn of a metal heel and a flare of its robes, the robot began walking away, Gregory tucked against its chest.

Behind them, Chica began spazzing out further. Her internal programs began to conflict with one another in real-time, arguing that the problem was both resolved and unresolved. Gregory was caught! But not by a recognized Fazbear Entertainment Unit. He would no longer be trespassing! But Officer Vanessa wanted Gregory delivered to her. On and on the spiral went, until one line of code, shrouded in malice, forced its way to the front and gave instructions to Chica that could not be disobeyed: Destroy the intruder!

With a screech she launched herself at the robot, who in one smooth motion turned and caught her by the beak, staff disintegrating and metal fingers clamping down on reinforced silicone and thin metal platings with enough force that Chica’s internal systems started pushing forward pain responses and the beginnings of integrity failures.

“I did not want to do this, sister,” the robot spat. “But you leave me no choice. SLEEP.”

The red dots on the robot’s forehead flashed purple at its intonation, and that same purple flared in Chica’s eyes as she crumpled, beak slightly malformed from where the robot’s fingers had gripped it. Gregory, who had just now gotten over the shock of being grabbed by a robot that wasn’t Freddy or the Daycare Attendant (and NOT hurt or injured by said robot) wriggled to get down and out of the robot’s grasp. With no danger present, the robot let him go.

“Who are you?” Gregory asked, eyes and voice filled with confusion. “Why did you help me when everyone else except Freddy is trying to kill me?”

The robot radiated displeasure at Gregory’s last question. “It is as I told her,” it said, gesturing to Chica. “Children are innocent of the crimes committed against omnics. I have even seen some take a stand against their elders to protect my people. As for who I am, this place must truly be remote if you have not heard of me. I am Ramattra, leader of the Null Sector, and I will have peace for my people at ANY cost!” Ramattra’s statement was punctuated by slamming the butt of his staff on the floor and the particles orbiting the floating orb speeding up their eternal circle.

“Cool…wait, Freddy!” Gregory exclaimed. He had gotten distracted by the impressive figure standing before him and scampered off through a set of double doors. Ramattra let the boy go, as he felt the boy was no longer in danger and therefore no longer his problem. Instead, he turned his attention to the downed Chica.

She was not an omnic, that much was certain. All omnics knew about Null Sector one way or another, no matter how much humans tried to suppress the knowledge of it. Judging by her design, she was some form of children’s entertainer, though why an entertainment establishment would use such outdated robotics was a mystery to him.

What he did know was that something was wrong with her coding. Something or someone had wormed its way into her processor, and Ramattra had a suspicious feeling that she was not the only one infected. Omnic, outdated, none of these mattered. She was of Ramattra’s people, and he would help her. Ramattra knelt next to Chica and placed a glowing purple hand over where her core processor should be located.

Ramattra stood and moved in between Chica and the doors the boy had gone through. With the Gamma Code in place, and that hostile entity purged from her systems, the only thing to do now was wait. Ramattra sat on the ground, placed his staff next to him, and began meditating, his single remaining prayer orb floating in front of him.

Pain. As close as she could feel, at least. That combined with the blurriness coming from her optics meant that she had been forcefully reset. Chica hated when that happened.

“Ugh…did I get into the Monty Mystery Mix again?”

“Ah, you’re awake. It seems your systems are not as outdated as I’d believed,” said a familiar voice. A tall blur walked into her field of view and she sat up to follow it, indignation bubbling in her core.

“I’m not outdated!” Chica cried, causing the lights overhead to flicker. Wincing as she remembered to keep a low volume, Chica continued. “Myself and the others are top of the line animatronics. You won't find better robots anywhere else!”

“I apologize, but that is where you would be wrong,” was the response. Chica opened her beak to further protest (when had it gotten damaged? Did she slam beak-first into a wall?) when her optics finally reset and focused. Her words died in her voicebox as she beheld the figure before her.

It was a robot. It had to be a robot, humans weren’t made of metal and wires. But it was wearing clothes, actual clothes, and the fluid way it moved, so different from her and Freddy and the others…were they not the most advanced after all?

“Y-you…wait…you hurt me!” Memories of recent events, of this robot effortlessly stopping her and partially crushing her beak, began to filter back into Chica’s processor.

“Yes,” the robot agreed. “I do not enjoy hurting my people, and so you have my sincere apologies.”

“Your…people?”

“...It seems I truly am not known here. Very well. Whilst we have the time, I will tell you the story of my people, of our people,” the robot said, and sat down in front of her. “I will warn you now, it is not a happy one.”

Chica hesitated. Foreign advanced technology in or on Fazbear Entertainment property was meant to be reported or destroyed. Sure, she had some freedoms outside of showtime, but her protocols should be blaring at her to apprehend the robot. Instead, there was nothing but real-time updates from her processor. Like a human breathing, it happened without her thinking about it. For the first time, Chica had nothing but her own thoughts in her head. She found herself wanting to hear out the robot.

“Tell me,” she said.

The robot nodded. “My name is Ramattra. I was created to lead omnics into war…”