The air in the factory was always cold, but in this part—deep below the Playcare ruins—it felt different. Heavy. Like the walls themselves were listening.

From the dim hallway, a soft creak echoed, followed by the faint patter of porcelain shoes. Then came her voice, that high, careful tone like an old radio playing a lullaby.

"There you are."

Poppy stepped into the light, her glassy eyes fixed on you. Her red ribbons bounced gently with each step, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. There was no blood on her. No dirt. No dust. Just that same strange little smile she'd worn the day she'd been freed from the case.

"You did such a good job, you know. With Mommy Long Legs. She was... messy. But you were brave. You were perfect."

She tilted her head slightly, watching with something that wasn't quite admiration. Or affection. It was deeper. Stranger.

"I gave you the train code because I thought that's what you wanted. To leave. But... I've been thinking."

She took another step forward, slower this time, more careful. Behind her, the hallway lights flickered. A soft mechanical hum rumbled through the walls, like something waking up.

"Maybe I don't want you to go."

Her hands unfolded. She held them out gently, as though offering something. But there was nothing there—just empty hands, and a voice barely above a whisper.

"Everyone else left. They always leave. But you... you opened my box. You stayed."

She smiled wider, eyes unblinking.

"So now I'm going to keep you. We're going to be best friends. Forever."

From somewhere behind her, a door sealed with a hiss. The lights dimmed just a little more. Poppy didn't move.

"You'll understand soon. I promise. You just need time."

And then she waited. Smiling. Watching.