✨Craft_Play✨

Poppy Playtime: Heir of the Factory

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1 father's light ➡️

Chapter 2 Legacy and Shadow of the Past ➡️

Chapter 3 Fallen angel➡️

Chapter 4 Well-deserved rest ➡️

Chapter 5 True Hearts➡️

Chapter 6 Secret Project N.0➡️

Chapter 7 Heavy is the Crown➡️

Chapter 8 The Past Dream➡️

Chapter 9 In Search of Answers➡️

Chapter 10. The Errant Angel➡️

Chapter 11. Where is my son!?➡️

Chapter 12. Depths of the Factory➡️

Chapter 13. The Memory➡️

Art:

First wave of characters➡️

Second wave of characters➡️

Third wave of characters➡️

Russian and English versions of the fanfic➡️

✨Голосование ещё не закончилось, но я уже начал работать над комиксом. Вот первая страница. Как вам?✨

✨Я думаю над тем, чтобы переделать свой фанфик "Poppy Playtime:Наследник фабрики" в комикс. Вам бы понравилась такая идея? Это займёт много времени, но мне кажется, это может быть интересно.✨

Chapter 13. The Memory

Prototype walked downward. Null moved beside him, his shadows sliding along the walls like living things. Soft blue light flowed from somewhere above, seeping through cracks in the stone ceiling. It fell on the cave walls, making them seem alive, as if they breathed in time with the silence. The air was cool and damp, smelling of stone and ancient moisture. Somewhere in the depths, water dripped, and every sound echoed back, as if the cave were listening to itself.

Alster sat on a flat stone in the center. He hugged his knees and stared at one point. He looked tired, but there was no fear in his eyes anymore. Only calm. Or maybe it was exhaustion that had become deeper than any emotion.

Prototype stood at the entrance. Null stepped back into the shadows, leaving them alone. He didn't say a word, just vanished into the darkness, and his presence was no longer felt.

Prototype slowly stepped forward. Each step echoed dully against the stone floor. He sat down opposite his son on the cold stone. It was damp, but he didn't notice. He looked at Alster, and Alster looked at him.

The silence between them was thick and heavy.

Prototype: "I need to tell you something. The whole truth. From the very beginning."

Alster didn't answer. Just waited.

Prototype spoke quietly. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but every word fell into the silence like a stone into water.

Prototype: "Back then, I was empty. The factory was my prison, and power was my only meaning. I knew neither warmth nor tenderness. I was just a weapon, Experiment 1006. Harley came to me with an idea. He said: 'We need an heir. If something happens to you, who will take your place? We can't just take someone off the street.' I agreed. I didn't care."

Prototype paused. Looked at his son.

Prototype: "Harley found the first child. Strong, commanding. We started the experiment, but he died. Harley was furious. I felt nothing. Then Harley came again. He said: 'We need someone else. Quiet, kind, unnoticed. Someone no one would miss.' We found him. A little boy who always helped others but never stood out. He was alone. Always alone. We came to him. Harley put him to sleep, and I took him. He didn't even resist."

Alster clenched his hands on his knees but said nothing.

Prototype: "I gave him part of my power. Three days. Three days his bones were forming. Horns broke through his skin, wings — that was the hardest part. He screamed. He cried. But he survived. You survived. I had your memory of your past life erased. I wanted you to start over. With a clean slate. I raised you, protected you. But I didn't know how to be gentle. I didn't know how to do it."

Prototype paused. His voice grew quieter.

Prototype: "When you were six, you climbed onto Harley's lab table. You were messing with his tools. I burst in, scared, trying to take the dangerous things away from you. You leaned forward, and I... I caught your eye with my claws. You screamed. There was so much blood. Harley took you, operated on you. They erased your memory of it. But you lost your left eye. You don't remember it. You're not supposed to remember. But I remember. I remember your scream. I remember the blood. And I remember you waking up and looking at me. You didn't know what I'd done. You just smiled because I was there. And I stood there, looking at your empty eye, knowing that I had done it."

Alster slowly raised his hand and touched his left eye.

Alster: "I don't remember that night. But I know you were there. I know you were scared. And I know you never told me about it. You hid it from me. Like everything else."

Prototype lowered his head.

Prototype: "When you were eight, you snuck into the basement. You found Huggy in his cage. You let him out. You said: 'You'll be free and you'll serve me.' I flew there, wanted to destroy Huggy, but you stood between us. I realized then that you didn't need me. You were building your own life. I was just getting in your way. So I made a decision."

Alster looked up.

Prototype: "I chose the best. Lily, Mommy, Huggy, Catnap. I ordered them to replace me. I said: 'You will be his family. I can't be there. Raise him, protect him, love him. And I will leave, so I don't break him completely.' And I locked myself in my office."

Silence. Alster looked at his father. His voice was quiet but firm.

Alster: "I knocked on your door. You didn't open. I sat under your door and waited. Catnap would find me there, hold me, and I would cry. I didn't know why it hurt so much. I just knew I missed you. You were right there, behind the door, but you wouldn't come out. Lily taught me, Huggy showed me secret passages, Mommy taught me kindness, Catnap was my friend. They gave me everything they could. But when I was alone, there was a void inside me. Because they weren't you. I made you cards. For every holiday. I drew them myself, slid them under your door. You never answered. But I kept going. Because it was all I had left."

Prototype was silent. His yellow eyes glistened.

Alster: "Eighteen years old. I stood at your door. And this time, you opened it. You looked at me. You didn't say a word. You just hugged me. For the first time in my life. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life. I waited for you to open the door. I waited for you to tell me the truth. I waited for you to hold me. You did it. I forgive you, Dad."

Prototype couldn't speak. He walked over to Alster and hugged him. For the first time.

Null stepped out of the shadows. He wasn't in a hurry. His steps were silent, but his presence filled the cave, as if the darkness itself had stepped forward. He looked at them — at the father and son who had finally embraced. His eyes burned steadily, without coldness, without anger. Just steadily.

Null: "I've been waiting for this moment. You did it. You told him the truth. Now you can move forward. Together."

Prototype slowly released Alster. He looked at his son, and in his yellow eyes there was no more fear. Only weariness and something new — something Alster had never seen before. He didn't know what to say. He just stood there.

Alster and Prototype walked toward the exit. Null didn't move. He stayed in the center of the cave, his shadows stretching along the walls like the roots of an old tree.

Alster stopped at the very exit. Turned around. Looked at Null.

Alster: "Aren't you coming with us?"

Null: "No. My place is here. I've been part of this darkness for too long. I don't know how to live in the light."

Alster didn't leave. He stood and looked at him.

Alster: "I didn't know how to live in the dark either. But I lived. Because I had people who helped me. You have no one. You're always alone. You waited for me. You waited for Father. You waited for all of us. Now we're here. Don't leave."

Null was silent. His eyes looked at Alster, and there was no pain in them. Only weariness that had lasted for centuries.

Alster stepped toward him. One step. Then another.

Alster: "Up there, there is light. There are people waiting. There's a place for you. There's warm tea, and pies, and chairs where you can sit and be silent. There's silence, but it's not like here. It doesn't press down. It just is. You should try it."

Null looked at him. His lips trembled. He wanted to say no, but the word wouldn't come out.

Prototype stepped forward. He stood beside Alster. His voice was low, but firm.

Prototype: "He's right. You shouldn't be alone. You've always been alone. You waited for me when I was foolish. You waited for him when he was small. You waited for all of us. Now we're here. You should be here too. Not in the darkness. With us."

Null looked at both of them. For a long time. His eyes burned steadily, but something inside him wavered. He looked at the exit, where the light began. He didn't move.

Alster reached out his hand to him.

Alster: "Come with us. I'll show you the factory. There are a lot of dark corners, but there's also light. Sometimes there's more of it than darkness. We'll find you a place. There's an old room with a big window. I know you'll like it there."

Null looked at his hand. For a long time. Then slowly, almost uncertainly, he reached out his own. His fingers were cold, but when they touched Alster's hand, something changed.

Null: "I don't know if I can be who you want me to be."

Alster: "We don't want you to be someone else. We just want you to be with us. And to not be alone anymore."

Null said nothing. He squeezed Alster's hand and took a step forward. One small step. Then another. He followed them upward, into the light.

Prototype walked beside his son. Null followed behind. They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

When they emerged into the main hall, Null squinted for a moment. The light was too bright. But he didn't stop.

He walked on.

End of Chapter 13.

En:

✨This story was born in 2025, when I first discovered Space Riders AU by @onyxonline, and back when Zero's story hadn't been revealed yet. I was so inspired by this universe that I created my own story with my own characters. I just wanted to make something of my own connected to this world, and this story came out of it. Now I want to share it.✨

---

The Story of Alster and Zero

Alster and Zero were best friends. They grew up together, equal in power and magic, and no one could tear them apart. Alster — an angel with the gift of healing, able to create barriers and portals to other worlds. Zero — a being of immense power, feared even by the gods.

As they grew older, a team of seven of the strongest beings in the universe formed around them: Alster, Zero, Laurent, Narash, Arcadia, Mirael, and Ssar. Each had their own planet and their own unique power, but together they were unstoppable.

It all began on the day of Alster's coronation. He was about to become the ruler of his kingdom. But instead of a celebration, disaster struck — the cult of the Prototype, the Red Clouds, an army of darkness. Alster created a barrier to protect the people, but it wasn't enough. The dome cracked. Darkness broke through.

His team managed to guide the citizens and his parents through a portal to Zero's planet. Alster and Zero were left alone. They combined their powers for one final strike to destroy the enemy. But the blast was too strong — the planet could explode. They could die together. Alster kicked Zero into the portal. Zero screamed, but it was too late.

An explosion.

Alster vanished. Zero survived. But he never forgave himself.

Years passed. Zero fought against the cult of the Prototype alongside a new team — Dogday and the others. Together, they saved worlds from darkness.

He sat on the edge of a cliff on the ruins of his planet, remembering. Every day, every hour, he thought about what he could have done differently. Dogday and Catnap were by his side, but they couldn't fill the void Alster had left.

One day, he was attacked by cultists. He was wounded, lost his mask, and fell off a cliff. Consciousness faded. And then — hands. Someone caught him. Someone saved him.

A demon. It looked like a monster, but it healed Zero with the same song Alster used to sing to him.

Zero recognized it. He couldn't believe it. How did this demon know the melody of his friend who had died years ago? The demon removed its mask. Beneath it was Alster.

Tears. Hugs. Questions they didn't have time to answer. They couldn't finish — Dogday and Catnap arrived on their ships. Dogday grabbed Zero, pulling him close. Catnap aimed his weapon at Alster.

Alster managed to put his mask back on and ran into the forest. He ran without looking back. He was opening a portal — straight into the Prototype's world. But Catnap didn't give up. He fired. The beam hit Alster in the shoulder. He stumbled, but the portal was already open. He stepped through, and it closed behind him.

Zero remained in Dogday's arms. He couldn't speak. He just cried. Dogday looked at him, not understanding why his friend was sobbing over some demon that had escaped.

But Zero knew: Alster was alive. He had seen him. He had spoken to him. And he had lost him again.

✨If you enjoyed it — leave a "+" under this post, and I'll share more: what that song was, how Alster ended up on the Prototype's side, and other details from this story.✨

Ru:

✨Эта история родилась у меня в 2025 году, когда я познакомился с Space Riders AU от @onyxonline и ещё, когда история Зеро не была раскрыта. Меня так вдохновила эта вселенная, что я создал свою собственную историю с моими персонажами. Я просто хотел создать что-то своё, связанное с этой вселенной, и у меня получилась эта история. Сейчас я хочу поделиться ею.✨

---

История Алстера и Зеро

Алстер и Зеро были бестр-френдами. Они росли вместе, шли вровень по силе и магии, и никто не мог их разлучить. Алстер — ангел, обладающий даром исцеления, способный создавать барьеры и порталы в другие миры. Зеро — обладатель силы, которой боялись даже боги.

Когда они повзрослели, вокруг них собралась команда из семи самых сильных существ во вселенной: Алстер, Зеро, Лорент, Нараш, Аркадия, Мираэль, Ссар. У каждого была своя планета, своя сила, но вместе они были непобедимы.

Всё началось в день коронации Алстера. Он должен был стать правителем своей страны. Но вместо праздника пришла беда — культ Прототипа, Красные Тучи, армия тьмы. Алстер создал барьер, чтобы защитить жителей, но сил не хватило. Купол треснул. Тьма прорвалась внутрь.

Его команда успела завести жителей и его родителей в портал на планету Зеро. Алстер и Зеро остались вдвоём. Они объединили свои силы, чтобы нанести последний удар, способный уничтожить врага. Но удар был слишком сильным — планета могла взорваться. Они могли погибнуть вместе. Алстер пнул Зеро в портал. Зеро кричал, но было поздно.

Взрыв.

Алстер исчез. Зеро выжил. Но он никогда не простил себя.

Прошли годы. Зеро сражался с культом Прототипа вместе с новой командой — Догдэем и другими. Вместе они спасали миры от тьмы.

Он сидел на краю обрыва на обломках своей планеты и вспоминал. Каждый день, каждый час он думал о том, что мог сделать иначе. Догдэй и Кэтнап были рядом, но они не могли заполнить ту пустоту, которую оставил Алстер.

И в один из таких дней на него напали окультисты. Он был ранен, потерял маску, упал со скалы. Сознание угасало. И вдруг — руки. Кто-то поймал его. Кто-то спас.

Демон. Он выглядел как чудище, но он исцелил Зеро той же песней, которую когда-то пел ему Алстер.

Зеро узнал её. Он не мог поверить. Откуда этот демон знает мелодию его друга, который погиб много лет назад? Демон снял маску. Под ней оказался Алстер.

Слёзы. Объятия. Вопросы, на которые не было времени. Они не успели ответить на всё — прилетели Догдэй и Кэтнап на своих кораблях. Догдэй схватил Зеро, прижал к себе. Кэтнап направил оружие на Алстера.

Алстер успел надеть маску и рванул в лес. Бежал, не оглядываясь. Он создавал портал — прямо в мир Прототипа. Но Кэтнап не сдавался. Он выстрелил. Луч попал Алстеру в плечо. Тот пошатнулся, но портал уже открылся. Он шагнул в него, и портал закрылся за его спиной.

Зеро остался в объятиях Догдея. Он не мог говорить. Он только плакал. Догдэй смотрел на него, не понимая, почему его друг так рыдает из-за какого-то демона, который сбежал.

А Зеро знал: Алстер жив. Он видел его. Он говорил с ним. И он потерял его снова.

Chapter 12. Depths of the Factory

Prototype and Preston descended, and each step was heavier than the last. The corridor had turned into ruins — walls were closing in, the floor was collapsing, and they had to climb over piles of rusted metal and concrete debris. Prototype struggled to squeeze through the narrow passages, his massive body getting stuck between the walls, and Preston helped him, offering his shoulder so he could pull himself out.

Somewhere in the depths, water was dripping. Somewhere, metal was screeching. Somewhere, something alive was moving.

Prototype stopped. Listened.

Prototype: "We're not alone."

Preston: "I don't hear anything."

Prototype: "I can feel it. It's him."

Preston didn't ask who. He just walked on, following Prototype into the thick of the darkness.

---

In another part of the corridors, Catnap and Lily were making their way through a collapse. The path that had been clear moments ago was now blocked by stones and metal beams. Catnap tried to climb through, but rocks crumbled down.

Lily: "Careful!"

Catnap: "We can't get through here. We need to find another way."

Lily: "What way? There's nothing here but these stones!"

Catnap didn't answer. He walked along the wall, feeling it with his paws, until he found a small gap. He stuck his head through, listened.

Catnap: "This way. I'll get through. You follow me."

Lily didn't argue.

---

Huggy and Boxy were making their way through a narrow passage. The walls squeezed so tightly that Boxy got stuck — his springs caught on rusty protrusions, and he couldn't move.

Boxy: "I'm stuck."

Huggy turned around, walked over. Carefully took Boxy by the shoulders and pulled him forward. The springs snapped loudly, and Boxy shot out of the passage like a cork from a bottle.

Huggy: "Alive?"

Boxy: "Alive. Thanks."

Huggy didn't answer. He just walked on.

---

Harley and Yarnaby hit a dead end. Harley punched the wall — the metal let out a pitiful clang.

Harley: "Dead end. Another dead end. We're going in circles!"

Yarnaby didn't answer. He walked up to the wall, sniffed it, ran his paw over the surface. Then pressed on one of the seams — and part of the wall silently slid aside, revealing a narrow passage.

Harley: "How did you..."

Yarnaby: "I can smell it. Fresh. Someone passed through here recently."

Harley didn't argue. He just followed Yarnaby.

---

Mommy and Alina walked in complete darkness. Alina glowed — a soft blue light radiated from her body, pushing the darkness back a few steps ahead. Mommy walked beside her, not touching, but always ready to catch her if she stumbled.

Mommy: "Aren't you scared?"

Alina: "I don't know what fear is. I only know that he's here. And we have to find him."

Mommy: "We will."

They walked on.

---

Alster lay in the darkness. He didn't know how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? His whole body ached, every movement sent sharp pain through him. His wing was broken, his ribs cracked, every bone throbbed. He couldn't even open his eyes — his eyelids were heavy as lead. He heard only his own breathing — raspy, weak. And silence. Thick, pressing like water.

He thought he was dying. He hoped it would happen sooner.

Null watched him. He saw Alster suffering. Saw how each breath cost him effort. Saw him giving up. There was no pity in his eyes — only ancient, weary resolve.

He didn't know who this boy was. But he felt it — this was his blood. And he wouldn't let him die.

Null stepped closer. Shadows thickened, wrapped around Alster, and he felt his body begin to warm. Not from the outside — from within. A warm, living force seeped into every cell, pushing the pain away. He felt his muscles relax, his bones knit together, his wing stop hurting.

He heard a voice. Low, deep, like the rumble of the earth. The words were ancient, foreign, but they settled inside him, changing something within. He didn't understand them, but he felt them weaving into his body, his blood, his very being.

The pain faded. Slowly, but surely. Alster felt he could breathe. That he could open his eyes.

He opened them. Darkness surrounded him. Only a faint red glow pulsed somewhere below. He felt he was lying on something warm, alive. He felt himself being held. He couldn't see the face of the one who spoke to him.

Null: "You're awake."

Alster: "You... what did you do?"

His voice was weak, hoarse. Alster didn't recognize it.

Null: "I healed you. You were on the brink of death. I wouldn't let you die."

Alster: "Why?"

Null: "Because you are my blood. I can feel it. It flows in you, even if you don't know it."

Alster tried to raise his hand. The wing no longer hurt. He moved his fingers — they obeyed. He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows.

Alster: "I... I feel different."

Null: "I gave you part of my power. Now you can heal others. You can mend wounds. You will be stronger than you were. When the time comes — you will understand how to use it."

Alster: "What?.. Why are you giving this to me?"

Null: "Because you are my heir. Because you must be ready for what's coming. Because I don't want you to die the way those I loved died."

Alster wanted to ask what that meant. But he didn't have time.

Somewhere in the distance, a crash rang out. First one. Then another — as if something enormous was collapsing above. The rumble spread through the walls, making the air tremble.

Null: "Stay here. I'll check who's there."

Alster: "I'm coming with you."

Null: "No. You need to rest. You've just been healed. Your body is still weak. Give it time."

He vanished into the darkness. Alster was left alone, listening to voices, not knowing what to do.

---

The team reached the center almost simultaneously. Huggy and Boxy were the first to emerge from the narrow passage and ran into Lily and Catnap.

Huggy: "Look who it is! You made it here too?"

Lily: "We were looking for a way around. What about you?"

Boxy: "Got stuck. Huggy pulled me out."

Before they could exchange more than a few words, Harley and Yarnaby crashed down from the ceiling with a loud thud. Harley dusted himself off and, without looking at the others, said:

Harley: "Found a hidden passage. Led here. Found nothing along the way."

A blue glow lit up in the darkness. Alina stepped forward, illuminating the path. Mommy stayed close.

Alina: "I can feel him. He's here."

They moved forward — all together. The corridor widened, and soon they emerged into a vast hall. With a high ceiling, broken tiles on the floor. Above, through the cracks, a faint dull light seeped in. And in the center of the hall stood two figures — Prototype and Preston. They were looking down at a dark stain on the floor.

Blood. A lot of blood. It trickled downward, toward a black abyss in the center of the hall. The trail ended at the edge of that hole.

Lily was the first to run up.

Lily: "What did you find?!"

Prototype didn't answer. He stared down. Preston stood beside him, pale.

Preston: "This is Alster's blood. He fell down there, into that chasm."

Lily: "Is he dead?!"

Prototype: "No. I can feel him. He's alive."

Huggy stepped closer, peered down.

Huggy: "It's dark down there. Can't see the bottom."

Prototype: "I'll go down. Stay here."

He took a step toward the edge of the abyss. But before he could step, a massive tentacle shot out of the darkness. It pushed him back with force, making him stumble back several steps. Everyone froze.

Null emerged from the darkness. He was enormous, ancient, almost ghostly. His body was made of shadows and light, and his eyes burned like two stars fallen into the abyss. He looked at them — at the team, at Prototype, at everyone who had dared to come to his lair.

The team froze. The silence became thick as water.

Null slowly shifted his gaze from one to another. His eyes burned steadily, calmly. He wasn't aggressive. He was above that.

Null: "Who are you all?"

Lily stepped forward, though her hands trembled.

Lily: "I'm his teacher. I taught him kindness. I baked pies for him when he was sad. I was there when he couldn't smile."

Null: "You speak of pies when he was dying?"

Lily didn't look away.

Lily: "I speak of being there when no one else was. I gave him warmth when he was freezing. I don't know who you are, but I know he's my friend. And I won't give him up."

Null turned his gaze to Huggy.

Huggy: "I taught him bravery. I was there when he was scared. I held him when he cried."

Null: "You taught him bravery. And when he fell into that shaft, were you there? Did you jump after him?"

Huggy fell silent. He wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. He just stood there, fists clenched.

Null looked at Catnap.

Catnap: "I was his shadow. I guarded him while he slept. I listened to his breathing at night. I know how he breathes when he has nightmares. I was there when he woke up and called for his father. And his father wasn't there."

Null looked at him. Catnap's black eyes didn't waver.

Null: "You were there. And he still fell. So you weren't there when it mattered."

Catnap didn't answer. He lowered his head.

Null turned his gaze to Mommy.

Mommy: "I taught him kindness. I taught him to be warm to those around him. I taught him not to close himself off, even when the world grew cold."

Null: "You taught him kindness. Even to those who used him? Even to those who hurt him?"

Mommy: "I... I didn't know. I thought he was just helping. I didn't know he was hurting."

Null: "You didn't know. But now you do. And what will you do with that knowledge?"

Mommy: "I'll stay. I've always been there. And I won't leave, even if he tells me to. Because he's my friend. And I don't abandon friends."

Null looked at her. His eyes burned steadily, but something like respect flickered in them.

Null: "Good. You didn't abandon him. That's more than many have done."

Null looked at Preston.

Preston: "I was his listener. He came to me when he couldn't stay silent anymore. I heard his fears, his pain. I was there when he couldn't speak to his father."

Null: "You listened to him. And when he stopped speaking, did you look for him? Did you want to know what he was hiding? Or did you just wait for him to come back?"

Preston didn't answer.

Null turned his gaze to Harley.

Harley: "I was his doctor. I treated his bruises. I hid it from Prototype, because Alster asked me not to tell. He didn't want his father to know he was in pain. I did it. Because he asked."

Null: "You treated his bruises. But you didn't heal his soul. You knew he was suffering. You knew he was hiding it. You did nothing."

Harley: "I did what I could."

Null: "It wasn't enough."

He looked at Prototype. Last. A long, heavy look.

Null: "And you? You're his father. You created him. You made him the heir. You erased his memory twice. You shut yourself away from him for eight years. You let him grow up feeling he wasn't needed. And now you've come to save him?"

Prototype stood, not looking away.

Prototype: "I came to bring him back. I came to tell him the truth. I came to let him know that I always loved him. Even when I didn't know how to show it."

Null looked at him for a long time. His eyes burned steadily. Without anger. Without pain.

Null: "You say you love him. But you don't know what love is. You know what it is to own. You know what it is to control. You know what it is to protect. But you don't know what it is to love. You never learned that. Because I never taught you."

Prototype froze. His yellow eyes faltered for the first time in a long while.

Null: "I didn't know how to love either. I made mistakes too. I hid my feelings too. I lost those I loved too. But I understood that. I understood it when I lost you. I don't want you to lose him the way I lost you."

He stepped aside, opening the entrance to the lair.

Null: "Go. Tell him the truth. Tell him you love him. Tell him you were wrong. Tell him you won't leave. Show him that you can be a father. Not a ruler. A father."

Prototype looked at him. He didn't know what to say. He just stepped down, into the darkness, toward his son.

The team watched him go. No one spoke.

Lily let out a quiet breath.

Lily: "Will he come back?"

Null looked at her. There was no coldness in his eyes. Only weariness.

Null: "If he comes back — it means he understood what love is. If he doesn't — it means he hasn't changed. And then I will take Alster with me. Forever."

Silence. The team waited.

End of Chapter 12.

Chapter 11. Where is my son!?

Harley walked fast. Very fast. Almost running. The factory corridors had never seemed so long. The lamps flickered, casting shadows on the walls, and in those shadows he imagined faces. He clutched an empty folder in his hands, but he knew the papers he needed were with the scientists. With those who had watched Alster break behind the glass.

The door was slightly ajar. Harley entered without knocking. The scientists looked up. They saw him — and went pale. Both of them. At once. As if they knew why he had come. One of them leaned back in his chair, the other gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

Harley: "Where is the document?"

His voice was steady, but there was something in it that made the air in the room grow thick.

Scientist: "What... what document?"

Harley didn't answer. He walked to the desk. Took the folder — the one left out in plain sight, as if placed there on purpose. Opened it. Flipped through. Found it. The signature. Neat. Even. Too perfect. Too flawless.

He knew Prototype's handwriting. He had seen it thousands of times. This signature was someone else's. But the handwriting was disturbingly familiar. As if someone had practiced for a long time. As if someone wanted to remain unrecognized.

Harley looked up. There was no anger in his single pupil. Only cold, calm clarity — the kind that made the scientists uneasy.

Harley: "Who gave you this order?"

Silence. The scientists exchanged glances. One swallowed. The other lowered his eyes. No one answered. Harley didn't wait. He took the folder and left. The door remained open.

---

Prototype's office was dark. Only the desk lamp cast a dim yellow glow. Prototype stood by the window, his back to the door. When Catnap burst in without knocking, he didn't turn around. Only froze.

Catnap: "My lord..."

He was gasping. Words came out in fragments, as if he feared he wouldn't have time to say what mattered.

Catnap: "He fell. Into the old ventilation. The scientists said you signed an isolation order. He believed it. He... he broke. I couldn't stop him."

Prototype slowly turned. His yellow eyes looked at Catnap. There was no anger in them. Only emptiness. The kind that made Catnap feel a chill run down his spine.

Prototype: "What order?"

Catnap opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment the door opened again. Harley. In his hands — a sheet of paper. He placed it on the table before Prototype.

Harley: "This order."

Prototype took the document. Ran his finger over the signature. Slowly. Too slowly. As if he wanted to be sure he wasn't mistaken. But he knew — it wasn't his hand.

Prototype: "This is not my signature."

Harley: "I know. Someone forged it. Someone who knows your handwriting. Someone who knows how to strike where it hurts."

Prototype crushed the paper. For a moment he stared at it. Then raised his eyes. Yellow, heavy, like two burning points.

Prototype: "Check. Every capsule. Every level. I want to know who did this. If you find anything — even a hint — you tell me. Personally. No one else."

Harley: "Understood."

He left. Catnap stayed.

Prototype: "Go. Gather everyone. Five minutes. At the entrance to the old part of the factory."

Catnap: "Everyone?"

Prototype: "Everyone."

Catnap ran out of the office without a word.

Prototype was alone. The silence in the office grew thick as water. He stood at the window, staring into the gray emptiness beyond the glass, clutching the crumpled paper with the forged signature. He knew his son was somewhere out there. In the darkness. Alone. Broken. And he couldn't waste a single second.

He turned. Walked to the wall. Pressed the panel — it slid open silently. Behind it — an old metal safe. He entered the code. The lock clicked.

Inside lay one folder. Worn, yellowed, with faded ink on the cover. He took it. Without opening it. Just took it and left.

The corridor met him with dim light. Lamps flickered, shadows leaped along the walls like living things. He descended lower and lower. To where the part of the factory he had tried to forget began.

At the old entrance, they were already waiting. Everyone. No one spoke. The air was heavy, like before a storm. Prototype stopped. Slowly opened the folder. Pulled out the blueprint — old, yellowed, with cracked edges. Spread it on a wooden crate. Everyone moved closer. Everyone looked.

It was a map of the old factory. The one that existed before Playtime Co. With rooms, passages, levels. And markings. Red crosses. Arrows. Numbers no one understood.

Prototype raised his eyes. Looked at each of them.

Prototype: "This blueprint has been with me for over twenty years. I've never shown it to anyone. It holds everything. Every corridor. Every dead end. Every path downward."

He pointed at the lines.

Prototype: "Alster fell into the old ventilation. It leads into this part of the factory. There are five paths here. We'll split up. Catnap and Lily — first. Huggy and Boxy — second. Harley and Yarnaby — third. Mommy and Alina — fourth. Preston is coming with me to the center."

He looked up again.

Prototype: "If you find him — signal. If not — return in an hour. Any questions?"

There were none.

---

They dispersed into five corridors. Five paths into the unknown. Each step took them farther from the light, and the silence grew heavier.

In one corridor, two walked. Huggy and Boxy. Huggy led the way, his massive blue figure nearly brushing the walls. Boxy trailed behind, his springs softly creaking with each step. No one spoke. The air was cold and damp, smelling of dust and rust. Huggy suddenly stopped. Listened. Nothing. Only silence.

Boxy: "Do you hear anything?"

Huggy: "No. I hear nothing. And that's the worst part."

Boxy: "He has to be somewhere here."

Huggy: "He should be. But I don't feel him. No sound. No scent. Nothing."

Boxy: "What if we don't find him?"

Huggy didn't answer. He just walked on.

In another corridor, Catnap and Lily walked side by side. Catnap moved silently, his purple fur blending with the darkness. Lily walked beside him, pressing her hands to her chest. Her ribbons no longer moved.

Lily: "He was always like that... Always smiling, even when he was hurting. I remember how he'd come to Sweet Street and just sit at the table. Silent. Just staring at the pastries. I thought he was just tired. But he probably just didn't know how to say he was in pain."

Catnap: "He never knew how to talk about pain. He always hid it."

Lily: "Do you know how?"

Catnap was silent. Then quietly:

Catnap: "I know how to be silent beside someone. Sometimes that's enough."

Lily: "What if it's not enough?"

Catnap: "Then I should have said more. But I didn't know how."

They walked on.

In the third corridor, Harley and Yarnaby. Harley walked fast, almost running. Yarnaby barely kept up.

Harley: "He couldn't just disappear. He has to be here. Somewhere here."

Yarnaby: "I don't feel him. No scent, no warmth. Only cold and emptiness."

Harley stopped.

Harley: "Then we're looking in the wrong place."

Yarnaby: "Or he's deeper. Where we can't reach."

Harley: "What do you mean?"

Yarnaby: "I mean he could be further down. Where we can't go."

Harley was silent. Then he turned and walked faster.

In the fourth corridor, Mommy and Alina. Mommy held Alina by the shoulders, and they walked like that, together.

Mommy: "Do you hear anything?"

Alina closed her eyes. Listened.

Alina: "Silence. Only silence. But it's different. It's not empty. It's as if it's waiting."

Mommy: "For what?"

Alina: "I don't know. But it's waiting. Something is going to happen."

Mommy: "We'll find him. We will."

Alina: "I know. I'm just afraid we'll find him too late."

The fifth corridor. The darkest. The deepest. Prototype and Preston walked together in silence. Preston didn't ask questions. Prototype didn't speak. Only their footsteps echoed in the void.

After a while, Preston quietly asked:

Preston: "Are you afraid we won't find him?"

Prototype didn't stop. Didn't look at him.

Prototype: "I'm afraid we'll find him too late."

Preston: "I know him. He's strong. He won't give up."

Prototype: "I know. But he's wounded. He's alone. And he thinks I betrayed him."

Preston: "Will you tell him the truth? When you find him?"

Prototype: "I will. Even if he doesn't want to listen."

Silence. They walked on.

Alster woke up. His head was pounding. His whole body ached from the recent fall. He tried to lift his head, but the pain was so sharp he collapsed back — onto something soft, warm... and alive.

???: "You're awake..."

Alster: "Wh... who... are you?" — he rasped.

Null: "Me?.. My name doesn't matter... but before, they called me Null..."

Alster: "Wh... where am I?"

Null: "In the deepest part of the factory. Where it all began."

Alster: "... Mnh... why... why did you save me?"

Null: "Because I don't abandon my blood..."

Alster: "Blood?"

Null: "It's hard for you to understand everything right now. But know this — when your father decides to reveal the truth, he'll tell you everything himself."

Alster: "But... he wanted to get rid of me..."

Null: "That's not true. It wasn't him..."

Alster: "But... how do you know... I saw..."

Null: "I know more than you think. You need to rest now... soon he'll come for you..."

A thousand questions swirled in Alster's head. But he understood one thing... as long as he was near this unknown being... nothing could harm him.

From above — footsteps. Heavy. Rhythmic. They were getting closer.

End of Chapter 11.

Ru:

🍂Это моя Джесси. Я сделал её сам. От глины до последней нитки. Первая большая работа, сделанная с душой. 🍂

En:

Ru:

Chapter 10. The Errant Angel

30.10.1993

Alster woke up with a feeling that the day would be bad. He didn't know where this feeling came from — maybe because he didn't sleep well, or maybe because outside the window the sky was gray, too much like the color of concrete. He sat on the windowsill, hugging his knees, and stared down at the empty corridors. Catnap slept on the bed, curled into a warm ball, purring softly.

Alster looked at the cup of cold tea and thought about what he had learned yesterday. About the fact that he was Experiment 3001. About the fact that his folder wasn't in the archive. About what Yarnaby had said: "You're not supposed to know what's in it." About what Catnap had said when he led him back to his room: "Sometimes questions are more important than answers."

He felt like a stranger in his own skin. He didn't know who to trust. He didn't know what to do next.

There was a knock on the door. Alster flinched.

A scientist entered — a stranger in a white coat, holding a tablet. Alster had never seen him before. The scientist smiled — politely, but warily, as if he himself didn't fully understand what he was doing there.

Scientist: "Heir. New children have arrived. Prototype has ordered you to meet them. They're scared, they need someone bright."

Alster frowned. "Ordered"? Father never spoke like that. He always asked. And he never sent unfamiliar scientists. It was strange.

Alster: "Did Father say that himself?"

The scientist hesitated for a moment. His eyes darted to the side, then back to Alster.

Scientist: "Yes. He said you're the only one who can calm them down."

Alster wasn't sure. But he nodded. If Father asked — then he had to go.

He got off the windowsill. Catnap opened one eye, looked at the scientist, then at Alster. He didn't get up. Alster was surprised — usually Catnap followed him everywhere. But he didn't wake the cat. He just followed the scientist out.

The corridors were empty. There was little light. The scientist walked ahead without looking back. Alster watched his back and felt a strange unease growing inside him. It grew with every step. He wanted to ask where they were going, but didn't. He just walked.

They stopped at a white room. Alster recognized this place. It had doors with mirrors. He had been here before — they brought him here for "tests." He hated this place.

The scientist pointed to the door.

Scientist: "Go in. The children are waiting. Be careful. They're very frightened."

Alster nodded. He took a deep breath. He had done this a hundred times. Just walk in, smile, say a few words. Everything would be fine.

He opened the door. Stepped inside. Smiled.

"Hello! I'm Alster the angel! Nice to meet you!"

The children screamed. Fear was in every sound — high, piercing, wild.

"MONSTER!"

"HE HAS HORNS!"

"HE'S THE DEVIL!"

The children cowered in the corners. They covered their faces with their hands. They cried, calling for mothers they never had. They looked at Alster and saw a creature from their worst nightmares.

Alster froze. The smile slid off his face. He looked at them — small, frightened — and didn't understand what was happening. He was the same as always. Why were they afraid?

Voices from behind the mirror. Scientists. They didn't know he could hear them.

Scientist 1: "Negative reaction. They don't accept him. Too alien a type."

Scientist 2: "What do we do?"

Scientist 1: "Isolate him. Prototype's orders. Here's the signature."

Scientist 2: "But he's the heir... Shouldn't we report this first?"

Scientist 1: "No. The order is signed. We can't break it."

Alster turned to the glass. He saw their faces. And the signature. His father's signature. He recognized it. It was his.

He couldn't breathe. The words "isolate," "failed," "signature" spun in his head like shattered glass. Father had ordered him gone. Father knew. Father signed.

Alster took a step back. Then another. He didn't hear what they were saying to him. He only saw the signature — and felt something inside him break.

Alster ran out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud. He didn't remember how he ended up in the corridor. His head was pounding. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn't feel them. He only heard voices behind him — the scientists shouting something after him. He couldn't make out the words. His brain buzzed like a broken machine. "Prototype's orders. Signature. Isolate." The words stabbed into his mind like needles.

He ran. His legs wouldn't obey. He stumbled, but got up and kept running. The light in the corridors was dim. He didn't know where he was going. Just away.

Around the corner — Catnap. Alster saw his purple fur and black eyes. The cat stood in the center of the corridor, watching him. Ears flattened, tail tense. He was waiting.

Catnap: "My lord! Stop!"

Alster ran past him without a glance. Catnap lunged after him. His steps were silent, but Alster felt him close behind. He didn't look back.

Further on — Huggy. He burst out of a side corridor, arms wide, trying to block the way, to embrace him, to stop him. His blue figure filled the passage.

Huggy: "Heir! Stop! What happened?!"

Alster slipped under his arm, sliding through the gap between the wall and his massive body. Huggy didn't catch him. He only turned and shouted after him:

Huggy: "Alster!"

Alster kept running.

He no longer knew the way. He didn't know where he was. He ran until he crashed into someone.

Harley. The scientist stood in the corridor with a folder in his hands — apparently just coming out of the lab. Alster hit him with his shoulder. Papers scattered across the floor. Harley staggered but stayed on his feet.

Harley: "Alster?! What are you...?"

Alster didn't stop. He just knocked him out of the way without a glance. Stumbled over the edge of the folder, almost fell, but kept his balance and ran on.

Harley watched him go. His eyes were shocked. He had never seen the heir like this. He looked at the scattered papers, then back at the corridor where Alster had disappeared. And followed him.

Alster ran through the dim corridors. His chest burned. Tears wouldn't stop. He heard Catnap's footsteps behind him — he wasn't slowing down. But Alster couldn't stop.

He burst into the old part of the factory. There was no lighting here. Only rare flickering lamps. He ran until he hit a dead end.

A wall. No further.

Alster stopped, breathing heavily. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go.

Catnap came up behind him. Didn't touch. Just stood nearby.

Catnap: "Alster..."

Alster: "He signed. He knew. He... he ordered them to get rid of me."

Catnap was silent. He looked at Alster. His black eyes held no pity. Only calm and weariness.

Catnap: "I don't know what he signed. But I know he loves you. I don't believe he could do this."

Alster: "I saw his signature. I recognized it. It was him."

Catnap took a step forward. And stopped. He saw the ventilation grate behind Alster. Rusted, barely holding.

Catnap: "We need to leave. Now."

Alster didn't understand. But Catnap had already grabbed his arm and was pulling him back. At that moment, a crash echoed from the corridor.

Huggy: "Heir!"

Harley: "He's here!"

Catnap pulled Alster's arm, but he broke free. He didn't want to go back. He couldn't look them in the eyes. He wanted to disappear.

Alster stepped back to the grate. Felt it with his hand. Cold. Wet with condensation. He hit it with his shoulder. The metal creaked but didn't give. Another hit. Another. The rusted bolt snapped. The grate flew off with a crash, revealing a dark, gaping hole.

Catnap grabbed his arm again. Tight.

Catnap: "Alster! That's a drop! You don't know where it leads! Don't!"

Alster pulled his arm free. He wasn't looking at Catnap. He was looking into the darkness.

Catnap: "Stop!"

Alster pushed him. Catnap stumbled. That was enough. Alster slipped into the opening and vanished into the dark.

Catnap lunged at the opening, but it was too late. He only saw a shadow sliding downward.

Catnap turned to Huggy and Harley, breathless.

Catnap: "Where does this ventilation lead?!"

Huggy: "I don't know."

Catnap: "Is there a map? Does anyone know where these pipes go?!"

Harley was silent. He looked at the papers in his hands. Then raised his eyes.

Harley: "I'll check. You go to Prototype. Tell him Alster is gone. Tell him everything you saw. He needs to know."

Catnap looked at him for a second. Then nodded.

Catnap: "Understood."

He turned and ran down the corridor. Fast. Without looking back.

Harley and Huggy stayed at the ventilation shaft.

Huggy: "Will he survive?"

Harley looked at the papers in his hands. Then into the darkness of the shaft.

Harley: "I don't know. But if he's alive — we'll find him. And if not..."

He didn't finish. He just tightened his grip on the papers and walked toward the laboratory.

Huggy was left alone. He stared into the darkness where Alster had disappeared. And waited.

In the pipe, it was dark. Dust settled on his face, got into his eyes, his mouth. Alster crawled, seeing nothing. He felt only the cold metal under his hands and the dampness seeping from the walls.

He crawled, not knowing how much time had passed. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. He heard only his own breathing and the rush of blood in his ears.

The pipe sloped downward. Sharply. Alster tried to brake, but his hands slipped on the rusted metal. He rolled down, hitting his shoulders, elbows, knees against the rusted joints and sharp edges. Pain was everywhere, but he couldn't stop.

Light. Ahead, a break appeared. He shot out of the pipe into emptiness.

His wing. It caught on a sharp edge of metal. A flash of pain. He screamed. Tissue, skin, muscle — all tearing at once. He flapped one wing, trying to stay in the air. Useless. The other hung limp, trailing behind him like a torn sail.

He was falling. Screams. Pain. Darkness.

Impact.

Concussion. His head rang. His whole body ached. Every cell. Every bone. He couldn't move. Even breathing hurt.

He lay on something metallic. Cold. It smelled of oil and dampness. He didn't know where he was. Didn't know if he was alive or dead. He only heard his pulse in his ears. Thudding. Slowly.

A crash. A roar. Heavy footsteps. The screech of tentacles on metal.

He couldn't lift his head. He only heard something enormous approaching him. A shadow loomed over him. Burning eyes in the darkness.

Alster closed his eyes. This was it. The end.

But death didn't come.

The creature leaned over him. It didn't kill. It just watched him. Studied him. Quietly. Calmly. One tentacle touched his shoulder. Gently. Almost tenderly.

Alster didn't resist. He had no strength.

The tentacle wrapped around him, lifted him, enveloped him like a cocoon. Warmth spread through his body. He didn't know if it was death or salvation. He didn't know who it was. He only felt himself being carried into the darkness.

And the last thing he remembered was a low, rumbling sound, like purring. Soothing. Lulling.

His eyes closed. He heard that sound and sank into darkness. He didn't know if he would return. He didn't know if he would see light again.

But he felt it: he wasn't rejected. He was accepted.

End of Chapter 10.

Chapter 9 In Search of Answers

October 26, 1993

The night brought no peace. Alster lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the silence pressing against his ears. The room was dark, only a dim light from the corridor seeping under the door. Catnap slept on his legs, curled into a warm ball, purring softly — evenly, steadily, like a distant engine.

But Alster wasn't sleeping.

He stared at the ceiling and thought about what he had seen in his dream. About the boy. About the silhouettes. About the hand on his shoulder. And about that voice — quiet, unfamiliar, which had said: "It's too early for you to know."

He didn't know what it was. But he felt it: the dream wasn't just a dream. It was a piece of something real. A piece of what he had lost. Or what had been taken from him.

Silence. And in that silence — a sound.

Quiet, almost inaudible. Scratching. As if someone was dragging a claw across metal.

Alster froze. Listened. The sound came again. From the ventilation.

He slowly sat up in bed. Catnap didn't wake, only purred and moved closer. Alster swung his legs to the floor. Then stood and walked to the ventilation grate. He peered inside. It was dark.

Scratching again. Now further away. From the corridor.

Alster turned. His heart beat steadily, but loudly. He left the room without shoes. The corridor was empty. The lamps burned dimly, pushing back the darkness only a few steps. The silence was so complete he could hear water dripping somewhere far away.

He followed the sound.

Step. Another step. The sound led him deeper — into the part of the factory where even the lamps didn't burn. Where the walls were old, and the air was heavy and damp. It smelled of dust, rust, and something else — sour, alien.

He reached a door.

Old, metal, with a rusted lock. On the floor — tracks. Green, slimy, like from a tentacle. Alster touched the door. The metal was cold, almost icy.

He wanted to push it open.

And at that moment, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Alster flinched and spun around.

Prototype stood behind him. Without his cloak, in a simple shirt with rolled-up sleeves. His yellow eyes looked calm, without anger. But there was a firmness in them that didn't tolerate objections.

Prototype: "Not here."

Alster: "There's something there. I heard it."

Prototype: "There's nothing. Old pipes. Broken machines."

Alster: "Then why is it locked?"

Prototype: "Because there's nothing to look for."

He put his hand on Alster's shoulder and turned him around. Led him back along the corridor. Alster didn't resist. But he glanced back at the door, memorizing the way.

---

Morning came gray and cold. Alster sat in his room and stared out the window. The chill from that night still trembled inside him. He didn't know what it was. But he knew — he had to find out.

He went to Lily.

Sweet Street greeted him with the smell of caramel and vanilla. Artificial grass underfoot, colorful lanterns, a pink mansion in the distance. Everything as usual. But Alster felt like a stranger in this place.

Lily ran out onto the porch as soon as she saw him. In her hands — a tray of pies. Her ribbons fluttered behind her.

Lily: "Alster! You're early. Did something happen?"

She froze when she saw his face. Put the tray on the table. Came closer.

Lily: "You're pale. You didn't sleep?"

Alster: "I... want to ask you something."

They sat at the table. Lily poured tea. Alster didn't touch the cup.

Alster: "Do you know what was before me? Before the factory?"

Lily was silent. Her ribbons froze. She stared into her cup, not looking up.

Lily: "I don't know everything. And not everything I can tell you."

Alster: "Why?"

Lily: "Because some things are better discovered on your own. Or not discovered at all."

Alster: "Lily, I need to know."

She looked up. In her eyes was pain. Old, deep.

Lily: "You look like yourself as a child. When you searched for what couldn't be found. You were always like that — stubborn. But I remember how you cried when you didn't find it."

Alster: "I don't remember my childhood."

Lily: "I know. And perhaps that's for the best."

She stood, took the tray. Smiled — that smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Lily: "Come back tomorrow. I'll bake a cherry pie."

Alster nodded. He knew she was avoiding the answer. But he understood the main thing: she knows more than she says.

---

After lunch, Prototype called him.

Alster entered his father's office. It was quiet. On the table lay a folder — thick, with the factory's emblem. Prototype stood by the window, his back to his son. He didn't turn when Alster entered.

Prototype: "She's now officially registered. In the documents — Alina."

Alster took the folder. Opened it. Inside — papers, stamps, signatures. On the first page — a photo of Alina. And her name, printed in black on white.

Prototype: "Before, you called her Spark. A working title. I understand. But now she has a real name. You gave it to her. That matters."

Alster looked at the documents. Name. Number. Date. All like everyone else. But he knew that Alina wasn't just another experiment. She was his. His idea. His choice.

Prototype: "You need to be at the presentation. You're her creator. People are waiting."

Alster closed the folder. Nodded.

Alster: "I'm going."

Prototype: "She's no longer Spark, Alster. She's Alina. Remember that."

---

The main hall was full.

Catnap, Huggy, Mommy, Yarnaby, Boxy, Lily, Harley, Preston, and all the other employees. Everyone here. Everyone waiting.

Prototype announced: "Alina is the first android at Playtime Co. Created from titanium, polymer, and code. She is a new step in the development of our technology. We are no longer dependent on human material. We are creating life differently."

Silence in the hall. Some exchanged glances. Some nodded.

Prototype: "She is an example of what can be created without... unnecessary complications."

He didn't say "without pain and sacrifice." But Alster understood. His father said exactly as much as needed — not to reveal the secret, but to make it clear: this was the beginning of something different.

Alina stood beside Alster. She smiled. Blue hair, blue eyes. She looked happy.

Everyone applauded. Some smiled, some nodded, some watched with curiosity. Alster smiled too. But in his head — that door. Those green tracks. That cold on his shoulder.

After the presentation, when everyone began to disperse, Alster noticed Harley and two scientists heading toward the laboratory. He remembered — Harley had an archive. Old folders. Records of every experiment. He had to find his.

He followed them.

---

The corridors to the archive were narrow. Dim light. Cold walls. Alster walked quietly, trying not to reveal himself.

Voices came from a slightly open laboratory door. He stopped. Pressed against the wall. Listened.

Harley: "1322 is unstable again. Kevin took control. Destroyed everything in his cell."

Scientist 1: "We need to stabilize him."

Harley: "We can't restrain him forever. He's too strong."

Scientist 2: "And what about those parents? Jack's, I mean. They came yesterday."

Harley: "They knew nothing. We needed their visit to test Doey's reaction. Result — zero. He doesn't remember them."

Scientist 1: "They were killed?"

Harley: "Kevin. When they came too close. He mistook them for a threat."

Scientist 2: "He tore them apart. Literally. And they didn't even realize it was their son inside..."

Harley: "At least now we have data."

Scientist 1: "How horrible... They came for him..."

Harley: "They came voluntarily. We told them their son was alive. They believed. Now they're part of the experiment."

Alster felt cold spread through his body. He wanted to leave. Couldn't.

Scientist 2: "And what about 3001?"

Harley fell silent.

Harley: "Don't compare 1322 and 3001. Different projects. Different goals. 3001 is special. He's the heir. He shouldn't be a weapon. He should be the perfect son."

Scientist 1: "For Prototype."

Harley: "For Prototype. And he became one. As for 1322 — he's a tool that got out of control. He'll go to the basement. Forever."

Alster stepped away from the door. His heart pounded. "3001. That's me. I'm that one. I'm the perfect son."

He walked on toward the archive.

---

Alster stood in the middle of the archive. Dust settled on the shelves, the air was heavy and dry. He went through folders one by one, but couldn't find what he was looking for. He didn't know exactly what he was searching for — but he knew it should be here. Somewhere.

He ran his fingers along the spines, reading the numbers. Other people's names. Other people's fates. Nothing about him.

Silence. And a voice from behind.

???: "You won't find what you're looking for. Your folder was never here. Or it was removed before I started working here."

Alster turned around.

Yarnaby stood in the doorway. Calm, as always. His mane glowed faintly in the dim light. He looked at Alster without surprise, as if he knew he'd find him here.

Alster: "You know why I'm here?"

Yarnaby: "You're looking for yourself. Many come here looking for themselves. But not all find."

Alster lowered his hands. Empty.

Alster: "I don't have a folder."

Yarnaby: "No. And that's an answer too."

Alster: "What kind?"

Yarnaby: "That someone doesn't want you to find it. That you're not just a number on a list. That you're an exception."

Alster stared at him.

Yarnaby: "I don't know who you really are, Alster. But I know one thing: if the folder is missing — it means you're not meant to know what's inside. Or you'll find out not from papers."

He turned and walked toward the exit.

Yarnaby: "I won't tell anyone you were here. But don't come back. If someone notices you — I won't be able to protect you."

He left. Alster was alone.

He stood in the middle of the archive, staring at the shelves. Thousands of folders. Thousands of names. And nothing about him.

Alster left the archive. The door closed behind him with a soft click. He stood in the corridor, looking along the dimly lit passage. Empty hands. In his head — fragments of others' conversations, forming one picture.

He took a few steps. And heard a light movement behind him. Not footsteps. Almost breathing.

Alster didn't turn. He knew who it was.

Catnap emerged from the shadows and walked beside him. Silent. His steps were noiseless, but Alster felt his presence — warm, calm, as always.

They passed several doors. Lamp light fell on the floor in stripes. Somewhere in the distance, the factory hummed — evenly, monotonously, as always.

Catnap: "You didn't sleep."

Alster: "I was looking for answers."

Catnap: "Found any?"

Alster: "No. Only questions."

Catnap paused. Then said quietly:

Catnap: "Sometimes questions are more important than answers. Especially when you're not ready to hear them."

Alster stopped. Turned to him.

Alster: "Do you know?"

Catnap looked at him. Black eyes gleamed in the dim light.

Catnap: "I only know what I need to know. And I advise you to do the same."

Alster: "I can't stop."

Catnap: "I know. That's why I'm here."

He stepped forward and continued down the corridor. Alster followed.

Catnap: "Come on. You need to sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day."

They walked toward the residential wing. Alster watched Catnap's back, his tail swaying in rhythm with his steps. And thought about how the cat knew more than he said. But today he wouldn't ask.

Back in his room, Alster sat on the bed and stared at the ventilation grate for a long time. Catnap settled on his legs, as always.

Alster thought about what he'd learned that day. He was Experiment 3001. He was created to be the perfect son. Those who didn't meet expectations were sent to the basement. And somewhere in that ventilation, someone was waiting. Someone who knew more. Someone who could give him answers.

He lay down. Closed his eyes. But didn't sleep. He waited. And he knew — the truth would come. Sooner or later.

End of Chapter 9.

Решил попробовать сделать фигурку Прототипа. Не идеал, но я старался. Вышел ростом 30 см. Нравится?

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Chapter 8. The Past Dream

The dream didn't come right away. First there was only the heaviness — the one that presses on your chest when you're almost asleep, but something won't let you sink all the way. Alster felt it through his whole body: how it spread through his arms, his legs, crawled into his head and pushed out his thoughts. He tried to open his eyes — but his eyelids were leaden. Tried to move his fingers — they wouldn't obey.

And then he fell. Sharp, as if someone had yanked him down by the legs.

He stood in emptiness. His feet sank into something soft and cold. He looked down — fog. Gray, thick, it rose to his knees and hid the floor. Alster took a step. Something crunched underfoot — broken glass, splinters, small debris. The sound was sharp, unnaturally loud in that dead silence.

He raised his head. There were no walls around him, no ceiling. Only fog and darkness. And the cold — the kind that chills to the bone, even when you can't feel your own body. Alster didn't know where he was. Didn't know how he got here. But somewhere deep inside, a dull ache stirred — he had been here before. Not in a dream. In life. But his memory was silent.

He walked forward. Just to walk. The fog parted but didn't disappear. The crunch of glass accompanied every step.

In the distance, a light flickered. Small, yellow. It trembled but didn't go out, didn't come closer or move away — just hung in the darkness, as if tied to that spot. Alster felt that the light was waiting for him.

He walked toward it.

The fog thinned. Shapes emerged — first walls. Gray, concrete, with deep cracks. Then the floor — dirty, covered in the same debris that crunched underfoot. Then doors. Tall, iron, with rusted handles.

Alster recognized this place. Playcare. But not the one he knew. Not the one where children laughed, where it smelled of pies and where the artificial sun shone in the mornings. This one was dead. Gray. Cold. Lifeless.

The light floated ahead, showing the way. Alster followed it, not turning. Past doors, past empty rooms glimpsed through the gaps — cribs without children, tables without toys, chairs without adults.

He felt a strange calm. Not the kind that brings comfort, but the kind that comes when you understand — nothing here can be changed anymore. It's all already happened. It's all already passed.

The light stopped at the last door. It was slightly ajar — a thin crack, with no light coming through. Alster pushed it open.

Inside was a small room. Gray walls, no wallpaper. An iron bed against the wall, a wooden table, a peeling chair. On the bed sat a boy.

He was very small. About five years old, no more. In old, worn-out clothes, too big for him. His legs dangled over the edge of the bed and didn't touch the floor. He stared at the wall. With empty eyes. Not blinking. Not moving.

Alster looked at him and felt a strange recognition. The outlines of the face were familiar — the line of the lips, the curve of the eyebrows, the way the hair fell across the forehead. He knew this face. But he couldn't remember where from. Somewhere deep, in the farthest corner of his memory, a glimmer flickered. And vanished.

Above the boy stood two figures. Tall, dark silhouettes. Alster couldn't see their faces — only outlines, blurred, as if he were looking at them through fogged glass. One was heavy, cold, commanding. The other was sharp, prickly.

They were speaking. Whispering. Muffled, like underwater. The words didn't reach Alster, only sounds — low, guttural, vibrating in the air but not forming meaning.

One of the silhouettes reached out to the boy. A syringe. The needle went into his neck. The boy didn't flinch. His eyes just grew emptier. He slowly closed them and slumped onto the bed.

The second silhouette stepped forward. He scooped the boy under the arms, threw him over his shoulder — easily, like a rag doll. The boy's head hung limply down. His arms dangled along the silhouette's back.

The silhouettes moved toward the door. Alster watched them, and something inside him snapped.

Alster: "Stop!"

His voice broke out, loud, alien in that silence. The silhouettes didn't stop. They stepped through the door, and it began to close.

Alster lunged forward. Ran. His legs wouldn't obey, but he ran — toward the door, toward the boy, toward the silhouettes carrying him away.

He slammed into a wall. Invisible, solid. It was there — cold, impenetrable, it wouldn't let him through. He hit it with his shoulder, his chest, his face. Pain shot through his whole body, but he didn't even feel it. He pounded his fists against the emptiness that was stone.

The door closed.

Alster stood before the closed door, unable to breathe. His chest tightened, air wouldn't come. His fingers still touched the invisible wall that had stopped him. He couldn't tear his gaze from the door, behind which the boy had disappeared.

And then — suddenly, without a rustle, without footsteps, without warning — something touched his shoulder. Cold, light, like the touch of a porcelain doll that had come up behind him on its own. Alster flinched. His whole body tensed, as if electrified. He hadn't heard her approach. Hadn't felt her coming. She was just there. Behind him. Her hand lay on his shoulder — white, porcelain, with a blue sleeve and a lace cuff. Cold seeped through his clothes like ice.

He didn't turn around. He couldn't. His body wouldn't obey.

Lips touched his ear — not warm, not alive, but cold as glass. A whisper — quiet, calm, like an old doll that had been given a voice long ago.

???: "It's too early for you to know. Wake up."

Alster wanted to answer. To ask. But the words stuck in his throat. Only a sharp intake of breath — and the world blurred, darkened, collapsed.

He opened his eyes.

He was lying in his own bed. Outside the window — night. The factory was asleep. Quiet. On his legs — Catnap, warm, soft, dozing and purring softly. Alster didn't move. He stared at the ceiling. His heart beat steadily, but somewhere inside, deep down, a cold emptiness still trembled.

He glanced at the clock. 3:00. Exhaled.

Alster: "Again..."

He closed his eyes. Fell asleep.

The room was quiet. Only Alster's steady breathing and Catnap's soft purring.

And then — a rustle. Light, almost imperceptible.

From the ventilation grate in the corner of the room, a green tentacle slowly, silently emerged. It was thick, alive, covered in slime. It paused for a moment — as if listening to the sleeper's breathing. Then slowly retreated back into the darkness.

The grate closed. Silence returned.

Alster slept. And didn't see it.

End of Chapter 8.

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✨The third part of the art is ready.✨