Wings of Fire: RUIN

This is the sequel to Wings of Fire: Security Breach. Read it first!
Every story has a beginning . . .
Shatter set the animatronics free from their tortured existence, knowing his own life was already over. Wings of Fire: Security Breach is the tale of his arrival, his death, and his triumph over Afton.
Want to learn about the dragonets? Dying for more stories? Want to support Angel and Star? Tales of the Deceased offers more into the lore of this beloved crossover!
== Prologue ==
Starscatter lifted her head as sunlight streamed through the early morning window. Golden’Night was already awake, his nose buried in his research. He saw her wake, and lifted a cup of coffee to invite her over. “Starscatter!” He exclaimed. “Good morning.” He smiled, his golden yellow scales seeming bright and energetic against the grey stone walls.
”Good morning,” Star yawned, showing her fangs as she lit up her antennae and fluffed her wings. “How’d you sleep?” She walked over and nuzzled him on the neck as a good-morning. She twined her tail around his and she smiled.
Golden’Night nodded. “I slept alright. I’m just . . . Worrying about Nightingale. Stayed up long after midnight last night.” He took a long sip of his coffee and followed Starscatter into the living room and kitchen combined area. 
Nightingale was sitting on the bench behind the stone table, her nose in a newspaper. A bowl of cereal sat beside her claw, a spoon half-brought to her mouth as she saw them. She had dark purple, shiny scales that glistened in the early morning light. Her underbelly was a dusty purple, and her eyes were bright and young. She paused and looked up, and Starscatter noticed the bags forming under her eyes as she set the newspaper down. "Morning, Mama, morning Dad!" She chirped cheerfully before returning to her reading.
Starscatter sighed and walked over to her daughter. "Good morning to you too, sweetheart." She reached over and very gently pushed the newspaper down, but Nightingale made a small grumbling sound and tried harder to keep it up. "Darling, you can't keep doing this, it's not healthy. What has you so interested in the news, of all things? You were never like this before."
Nightingale sighed and lifted her head to frown at Starscatter. "It's for Shatter. I'm going to find out what happened to him."
Star fought the urge to cry. It had been four years since she'd left her only son at that horrible Pizzaplex. Four years since she and Golden-Night went out by themselves, coming back to the guard-surrounded building and their dragonet dead without a trace. In those four years, one would think that the wound inside Star's heart would have healed, but it hadn't. 
And then Nightingale started claiming to see Shatter. At first, she thought nothing of it, just a dragonet's overactive imagination, but as the years passed, it didn't stop. Then, Nightingale had started collecting newspapers, finding articles, images, anything about the old Pizzaplex. It was worrying, seeing her own daughter losing sleep and going mad over something that simply wasn't there. As much as Star wished her dragonet would come running back to them, alive and well, she knew it wasn't possible. Not even animus magic could do it. 
"Nightingale, sweetheart," Starscatter began, but paused. It was hard for her to speak on this topic. It was so . . . touchy for her. "I know you mean well, but you have to understand. Shatter's not here anymore, okay?"
"Mom, he is and I'm going to find out the truth, okay? Maybe you can't see him, but I can." Nightingale huffed, grabbing the newspaper and standing up, pushing past Starscatter and heading towards her room. 
"Gale, you get back here right now!" Star said, whipping around, but her heart just wasn't in it to scold her daughter. The last thing she wanted was for Nightingale to feel unloved for even a second, because then anything could happen in that second. I'm not losing another dragonet, she thought, feeling the tears come. Golden-Night placed his talon her her shoulder and offered his embrace.
”What are we going to do with her?” Star sniffed, looking down at her claws. 
“I . . . Don’t . . . I don’t know.” Golden-Night replied softly. “I miss him too, Star.”
Shatter. His name stung in her heart like a thousand wasps. “I know.”
"It's alright if you need to cry, Star. I'll fetch our mail for us." On that note, Golden turned around and headed outside. It was obvious that he needed fresh air and some time to think.
Starscatter sighed and rubbed at her eyes. She'd talk to Nightingale later, but right now, she needed a moment for herself. A moment to reflect and think on things. How do I even begin to approach the matter? Four years, and she won't give up. At least she has my spirit . . . But maybe that’s a bad thing.
She watched Golden-Night exit the cave and sighed. She cast a glance towards Nightingale’s room and bit her lip. Please, Gale. Don’t get sucked into this. I need you just as much as . . . I needed him.
== Part One: Ghosts ==
=== Chapter 1 ===
“Mail!” Nightingale exclaimed to herself. Once her father set the rolled-up newspaper on the table and led her mother into the other room, she snuck out of her room and snatched the paper. Clues! Her mind shrieked as soon as she saw the headline: Investigation into the Pizzaplex Being Postponed Due to Unsafe Environment and Strange Coincidences. “Coincidences, huh?” Nightingale whispered. She bounced into her room and looked around for her scissors that she kept hidden from her mother and father.
Nightingale’s room was decorated with strings of fairy lights on the ceiling, and a small twin-sized bed that had a thick, cameo green fishing net hanging overtop it where she spent most of her time. The fishing net was like a hammock, with shelves carved into the walls so she could reach her favorite books from there. She also had a desk for her schoolwork (Starscatter homeschooled her, most of the time) that was filled with stories she had written and crafts she had made. There was a walk-in wardrobe on the wall where the headboard of the bed rested, with books, scrolls, and random things neatly stacked inside. Nightingale had dedicated the entire back wall of the closet to her drawings of her brother, since her parents rarely looked inside. Detailed sketches of an Abyss-Sand-Night tribrid were taped all along the wall in a sort of mural, with a single, incredibly well drawn and detailed piece in the center. It was the most recent, and was inked by her new set of markers she got for her birthday. 
And then there was her Clue Wall. Above and a little to the right of her desk was a huge corkboard with pins, newspaper clippings, articles, and anything she could get her claws on relating to her brothers death all pinned into the corkboard and attached with red string. In the center of all of the clippings, and where all of the red strings connected was a single black-and-white photo of Teddy's Mega Pizzaplex. Notes were tacked on here and there, questions, crossed-out sentences, reminders of things to look for. 
Nightingale scooted her swiveling, rolling chair out from her desk and sat down, brushing off room on the only cluttered space in her room—the cherry wood desk that Golden-Night had hand carved for her. She placed the newspaper down and began reading.
A new break in the case of the terrible Pizzaplex incident! The investigation into the Plex has been postponed for now, due to the unsafe condition of the broken down pizzeria. A NightWing officer was attacked by a broken down S.T.A.F.F. Bot, and nearly killed. His injuries are healing, but he will be in the hospital for another week at least. The inside of the plex has been vandalized many times, and the farthest the investigation has gotten has been Alligator Golf. The research team, after four years, has decided to end the investigation into what happened that fateful day at the Pizzaplex. It has come down to one big, horrendous accident. 
The entrance to the Pizzaplex will be sealed off, and will remain until a new company buys the land and demolishes the building. Nobody is seeming to have any interest in the building, due to the danger, and also due to some strange, supernatural sightings that have happened while the investigation was ongoing. Claims of weeping ghosts and warnings painted in blood have deterred anyone from even setting down an initial price on the land. 
Who knows, maybe the Pizzaplex will one day become a museum of Afton the RainWing’s horrible deeds, or even a memorial to the dear ones we have lost. Recently, research has been able to identify the victims and console their families, though time has claimed most of them. (Nightingale remembered that meeting with the officer, a few moons ago. She hated him, the way he turned down her research.) Of the remaining kin, they have been compensated and will receive support from the queens in as many was as possible. Through all this, reader, I urge you to never, ever set foot in—
Nightingale looked up from the paper as Golden-Night stepped into the room. “Doesn’t anyone know how to knock?” Gale asked under her breath. In a more prominent voice, she said, "Hey dad."
”Gale,” Golden said, his tone very serious. “Come here.”
Nightingale immediately knew either something was wrong, or she was in trouble. She assumed the latter. “Okay . . ?” She plopped the newspaper down and walked over to her father. “Am I in trouble?”
”Yes, but no.” Golden-Night said, sitting down in front of her. “Your mother and I have decided to intervene in this . . . Morbid obsession of yours. Later today, we are going to take down your little investigation board, and cancel our newspaper subscription. Your interest in your late brother has gone too far. It’s causing your mother more pain than she should have to go through after what happened."
Gale blinked. “W-what? But I’m so close! I know it has everything to do with the pizzaplex, and that RainWing—Afton!”
Golden-Night stood. “Nightingale.” His tone had a warning in it and his expression was stern, but Gale continued nonetheless. 
“Dad, please! I know he’s here! I’ve seen him! He’s protecting me! I can go to the pizzaplex and find out what happened!” When her father froze, she knew she had gone too far. 
“Nightingale,” Golden-Night said with much difficulty. “You’re on time-out. Sit in the corner." He brushed past her and walked over to her Clue Wall. With a swipe of his claw he tore the cork off the wall and started dismantling it.
Nightingale bolted over, on the verge of tears, and yanked at his claws to get him to stop. "Dad! No! PLEASE! You have to believe me!" She wailed. "He's HERE! He's here and he loves us so much that he WANTS me to find the truth!"
Golden-Night gently removed her claws from his and folded up the remains of her corkboard, stuffing it into a trash bag he had brought in with him. "Gale. Don't make this harder for me than it already is, sweetpea."
Nightingale saw the tears in his eyes, and her ears flattened. She ran over to her closet and threw open the door, revealing all of her sketches of her brother. "Is this proof enough!?" She shouted. "I haven't seen him in FOUR YEARS. How could I remember what he looks like if I haven't seen him since then?!"
Golden-Night dropped the bag on the floor and stared, mouth slightly open as if he was going to say something, but no sound came out. The tears from before fell now, her usually stern father speechless and crippled. "How . . . he—" 
The center drawing depicted a dragonet with dark green scales like his mother, and a sail identical to his father's. He was smiling and had his claw up in a half-wave, his glowing tail barb curled idly around his leg. His wings were spread, and the insides were a glowing pale yellow with black stars on them. His friendly, witty gaze that Nightingale remembered talking to her in her dreams just last night. It was Shatter.
"Gale." Golden-Night approached the drawing and pressed his claw to it. "Where did you see the photo of him? Who told you?"
"I've been telling you, I saw him."
Golden-Night sighed and his face darkened. "That's it. This lying has gone on too long."
Angry, no, furious tears streamed down Gale's face. "I SAW HIM!" Nightingale screamed. "WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?" 
Riiiiiiip.
She stared in shock as Golden-Night peeled all the taped drawings off the wall and placed them into the trash bag, his eyes dangerously calm and completely silent. He slipped from the room and shut the door behind him. 
Once he was out, Nightingale took in a shuddering breath and looked down at the floor at the carnage. It was gone. All her research, all the efforts to find the truth, to help her lost brother, and it was now stuffed in a bag to be thrown away and burned with the rest of the junk in the world. Junk. That's all this is to them, she thought, looking at the only drawing her father left. Shatter smiled back at her from the page, his grin wide and goofy. Carefully, she picked up the drawing and brushed her claws against it, delicately. 
"I'll find out what happened to you," Nightingale resolved. "No matter what."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nightingale slowly, silently opened her door and peeked out. It was nighttime, and Golden and Star were already off for bed. Gale opened her satchel and snuck into the kitchen, packing granola bars, fruit, dried meat, and cheese sticks into her bag. She scrawled down a note on a slip of paper and put a salt shaker on top of it so it wouldn't blow away. 
Mom, Dad 
I'm going to find my brother. By the time you read this, I'll be long gone at the ruins of the Pizzaplex. His spirit is calling me more than ever, and even if you two think I've gone crazy, it's realer than real. Please, I don't want to break your trust and run off, but it's the only way I can be satisfied. I want Shatter to rest easy. I love you both to the moons and back. 
-Nightingale 
She sighed and turned, remembering to grab her glasses from her room before taking the picture of Shatter out of her bag and unfolding it to get a good look at it. I'm coming, Gale thought. I’ll find out what happened to you. I promise. She folded the paper back up and looked around one more time. She grabbed a few candles, just in case she'd need to see and didn't have her flashlight for whatever reason, then a flashlight and some spare batteries, and even a small multi tool. After packing her bag to the brim with necessary items, she zipped it shut and eyed the map tacked to the wall of the cave. Teddy’s Pizzaplex was crossed out with a big red X on the map, luckily for her. 
It’s all the way on the islands between Pantala and Pyrrhia, Gale thought. Just getting there will take longer than I thought. No turning back now. With a hesitant step, she left the cave and got a running start before hurtling herself into the air. She opened her wings, and they caught the air like two big starry sails. The weather was fine, with no clouds to be seen.
Alright, Gale thought as she flapped her wings to get above the trees. Time to go.
=== Chapter 2 ===
A lone, young dragonet probably should not have been flying alone in the dead of night, guided by nothing but sheer determination and an unrelenting desire for conclusion. She had to learn the end of this, even if it meant the end of her (though, hopefully it wouldn't). The wind was gentle, the night sky endless and full of stars, not a cloud in her way. This made it rather easy for Nightingale to follow the map, the moons casting a helpful bit of light to see it by and without a fear of crashing into anything.
But she'd been flying for hours, and hours, and HOURS and her wings felt like they were going to fall apart. A thin strip of daylight shone on the horizon, and she realized that she'd never make it to the Pizzaplex before daybreak. In the sun, dragons would be out and about. Her parents would be looking for her, guards would be patrolling the pizzaplex, and her sore wings would never live until then anyway. Just a break to sleep until nightfall again, she thought. But where? Where is possibly a good place to sleep out here?
All around her, it seemed like sandy beach and scattered trees. According to her map, Nightingale was on the edge of Pyrrhia, and it would be a few islands in that she'd reach the halfway point-reach the Pizzaplex itself. A rising fear began to take hold of her, the realization that she may not be able to hide from her parents for a whole day. That she may be caught before her research could truly begin. I can't give up, not now! Not when I'm so close. Her heart sang to her the sweet melodies of triumph and power, the ability to keep going, but her brain knew better.
"Shatter, please," Nightingale whispered. She didn't know why. His spirit had never come to her outside of her own home, and it felt silly to ask for his aid anyway, but she did. Nothing but the night answered her, not the faintest hint of her brother coming to guide her, and she sighed. The ground below didn't seem to have anywhere she could hide. It seemed impossible to hide for a whole day, and sleep, and then still have the energy to continue the next night. She'd blown her parents trust and wasted her one shot, and for what? Nothing?
"Don't give up hope, sister."
A warm presence enveloped Nightingale as a faint voice tickled her ears. It felt like a second pair of wings were supporting hers, lifting them up and keeping her strong. Gale looked around, her heart soaring, and she saw it-saw him. The pale and faint spirit of her brother that almost seemed to be just barely there, the very edges of his form wispy and hard to find in the dark (or in the light). Seeing him, seeing Shatter and knowing he was here to help her made her feel like she could do anything for him. It made her want to cry, but she'd wasted so many nights crying already. Now wasn't the time for that. 
"Shatter," she breathed, reaching out her talon. Nightingale almost forgot to keep flying, but her wings seemed to propel her through the air automatically. Beside her, Shatter drifted through the air and gently took her talon in his. It felt like she was holding a piece of the moons, with how outlandish it seemed to be connecting to someone who was dead and gone, his chilly yet warm talon a comfort in the night. He smiled, but didn't say a word. He's already done so much for me, she thought. He doesn't have to say a thing.
Time blurred whenever she was with Shatter, and Gale realized she'd almost passed the ruins of the pizzaplex. She quickly came to a halt, jarring her body, and looked around. In the distance, she could see the other islands that were closest to this one, but otherwise there was no hint of land around. The sun was just starting to rise, still far earlier than any normal dragon should be awake at. "I'm here," she whispered, angling herself down towards the grass and overgrown weeds. Nightingale felt a smile rise onto her face, despite her worries and fears. This was it. She'd finally know the answers. "Shatter, I'll figure it out, I promise."
There was no answer. Beside her, she saw Shatter's spirit smile and wave. She'd seen it before too many times, and Gale's smile faded. "Shatter? No, NO!" she shouted, dropping her map and leaping towards her brother. "Don't leave me yet! Don't leave me now! Please!" The wind picked up around her, and it seemed like the spirit was being taken away by the wind, disappearing as it was fragmented. Nightingale pounced, wrapping her arms around the ghost and grabbing onto him. But you can't hold what's not there, she thought sadly as she watched the last of Shatter disappear from her claws.
For a few minutes, she just sat there, unsure of what to do. It always hurt when Shatter inevitably left her alone again, his spirit being unable to stay in this mortal world for long. Nightingale wanted him to be with her for longer, to be by her side always and tell her what to do. She needed him.
A light rain began to fall. She tilted her head up into the droplets, blinking whenever they fell too close to her eyes, and sighed. Dawn was approaching, and a faint light reflected off the water in the air as Gale looked at the remains of the Pizzaplex. Her glimpse didn't last long, however, as she saw in the distance, approaching from Pyrrhia, was the figure of a dragon. They were just barely visible in the rising sun and rain, so there was no way they saw her yet-but she'd need a place to hide for the day anyway. 
Nearby the Pizzaplex was a tree that had fallen, it's age unknown, but with the trunk being hollow, Nightingale guessed it had been like that for a while. She peered into it, and while it seemed a bit small and damp for her likes, nobody would suspect anything but bugs to be in here. She squeezed herself into the trunk, tucking in her wings, and curled up so that her wings would feel a bit less smushed. Gale could even move her talons and head freely, for the most part. She watched the rain get harder, and the sound of the droplets going plink on the bark was soothing. 
Finally, after what felt like a long time, that dragon she'd seen in the distance landed. It was a SeaWing, though a golden-orange in color, complaining about the rain and walking up to the doors of the Pizzaplex. Nightingale watched curiously, though she stopped and reached in her bag for the snacks she'd packed. Her stomach growling would give her away if she wasn't careful. She wolfed down one of her cheese sticks, and then switched to gnawing on some of the jerky while she watched the dragon. They grabbed the lock, gave it a yank, fiddled with it some, and then nodded to themselves. 
Nightingale yawned quietly in her tree trunk hiding place, and the SeaWing's head turned. She shrank back into the trunk more, praying she hadn't been caught and holding her breath. The SeaWing tilted their head and shouted, "Hello? If you're a vandal hiding around here, knock it off, I've locked the place up now!" Gale remained silent. The SeaWing slowly walked around the building, passing right by the fallen tree, still calling out. 
With a shrug, the SeaWing opened their wings and flew away. Nightingale let out a sigh of relief, finished her jerky, and then lay there, her head neatly resting on top of her talons. It was oddly peaceful here, the rain around her but not actually reaching her, the echoing sound as it landed, and her own tiring flight here made this place a nice break. Exhaustion crept around her, bit by bit, and Gale closed her eyes. Before long, she was asleep to the sounds of the outdoors. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nightingale opened her eyes and shot awake, bonking her head on the tree trunk. “OW!” She yelled, before clamping her snout shut with her talons. Is anyone around? Did anyone hear?
Slowly, carefully, she crept out from inside the log. I slept all day! She realized, looking at the night sky. She knew it was a good thing, since she couldn’t afford to be tired on her investigation and couldn't explore safely in the daytime anyway, but it still shocked her. The clouds were covering up most of the stars and part of the moon, making Gale guess it was about ten o’clock or somewhere near midnight. Being a NightWing, she didn’t mind, and made one last inventory check before looking up at the ruins of the Pizzaplex before her.
The walls were overgrown with vines, cracking into the stone that built it and wound around every bit of it. Tall grass and weeds that were likely just crawling with insects sprang up all around the building, and Nightingale cringed. She hated insects. Looking at the windows and doors, newspapers and long rolls of brown paper covered them and prevented from seeing inside—not that it did much, as moonlight still seemed to stream in. The once neon lights were dead and cracked from exposure, while the large sign that used to be perched atop the building of Teddy was cracked and damaged. The whole head of the Teddy statue in the picture had fallen off into the tall grass, tarnished and dulled with time.
Nightingale shivered and took out her flashlight, clicking it on as she moved slowly towards the entrance of the Plex. She came to her first problem when she realized the doors were padlocked shut. "That SeaWing wasn't kidding," she muttered. “Um . . . What to do . . . ” She bit her lip and stared hopelessly at the big lock. Her adventure hadn't even started and it was over? Surely not!
Her eye caught on a large rock, and she smiled to herself. Gale picked up the rock, testing it's weight in her talons, and grinned. She grabbed the flashlight gently in her mouth so she'd have free talons, squinted one eye shut to get a perfect angle, and threw the rock at the windows beside the doors, smashing the glass with a loud sound. 
Nightingale waited for some sort of alarm to go off, but none did. She lightly hopped inside, carefully brushing away broken shards of glass and strips of paper, looking around and pausing before pointing her flashlight ahead of her. The huge concrete pillars of the Pizzaplex were graffitied and covered in dust and debris, barely supporting the place. The ground was cold beneath her talons, and cracks ran along the ground as if some sort of tremor had happened long ago. Darkness surrounded Gale, while her flashlight shone an eerie light into the blackness.
”H-hello?” Gale called. “Shatter? C-could really use some help right about now . . .” She yelped and jumped in surprise as Shatter materialized beside her, brow furrowed. Her back talon landed on something sharp, and pain flared through her as she gingerly removed a piece of glass. Blood trickled from the small wound, and she sighed.
”I didn't mean to scare you, Gale. But this is it,” He said. His voice carried the weight of someone who had seen too much, and didn’t live to tell about it. “The Pizzaplex.”
Nightingale beamed and nodded, ignoring the pain in her foot. “Figured that out, yeah!" She reached out with her talon not holding the flashlight, but Shatter didn't take it. "Come on, show me around! You know I've only heard the stories."
"I don't have long. This is tiring, sister. But I can tell you what you need to know, alright?" Nightingale nodded, listening eagerly, and Shatter continued. "The main atrium here has completely collapsed. I don't think you can use it to quickly get to Wolfy Skyway anymore."
"Why do I need to get to the Skyway?"
"Please, don't ask questions right now," he said, talking a bit faster. "Just know that you need to get there, and that the usual path is blocked. But I think you can use the other areas to get there."
"Shatter, stop being vague! Just stay with me, and we can get to the bottom of this!” Nightingale flared her wings and grinned, but Shatter didn't share her enthusiasm. He was already starting to disappear, and Gale's wings drooped. "Please?"
Shatter shook his head as the fading quickened. “My time is up for now. But we will guide you. Follow the trail—“ His voice was cut off as he dissolved again. A trail of small golden sparkles led into the darkness, deeper into the Pizzaplex. 
Nightingale sat on her haunches and frowned. "That wasn't helpful," she muttered, waving her flashlight around the room she was in, but not taking in much of it. "What did he mean by 'we', anyway?" She started thinking aloud, talking to herself as she walked across broken tile flooring. "I know he wasn't the only victim of Afton's, but he says he talks to other spirits. Why wouldn't they show themselves if they can?" 
Her brow furrowed. She'd been studying the afterlife, but scrolls and books alike were infuriatingly vague on the topic. Everything was speculation, rumors, theories, or all three of them. Surely she wasn't the only dragon who had ever been able to see the dead? To talk to them? Shatter had said that he had friends who hadn't been able to contact their family, but Nightingale knew that most of the other victims didn't have any living family anymore. Time is certainly something, she thought, aiming her flashlight at a mouse that ran past a pile of garbage. "This place smells awful," she said, trying to breathe lightly. "Why couldn't he warn me about that?"
Gale suddenly stopped as her flashlight trained on a bent over form in the darkness. That’s what it smells like, she realized. Trash and . . . Death. With a shudder, she slowly made her way to the figure, making sure to be as soundless as physically possible. It was a disheveled, broken S.T.A.F.F. bot. The once-white outer casing was smashed and the inside endoskeleton was exposed. It was dusty, and the lifeless eyes of the robot was now the house of a large spider. Webs were strung over most of the bot, and Nightingale almost screamed when the spider showed itself, clamping her talons over her snout and dropping her flashlight.
”Okay, okay, calm down, it's just a spider," she told herself, taking shaky breaths and bending down to pick up her flashlight. Still, thought of a spider that massive made her itch all over. Looking back at it, she took her flashlight, aiming it just right, and bashed the back of it against the spider. It fell to the ground, crumpling up, as lifeless as the rest of the pizzaplex. 
"Eww . . .” Gale cringed. This was why she hated bugs so much. Going back to the S.T.A.F.F. bot, she took another look now that it was spider-free. A flashlight was in its left hand, being held on to for dear life. The metal talons were clutching it so tightly, but with how old it was, surely it wouldn't be difficult to get out. 
Can’t hurt to have an extra, Nightingale thought, carefully grabbing the emitter of the flashlight and gently pulling. The rusty metal of the claws gave way, as expected, and she jumped back with the new flashlight. Then, she shifted the flashlight in her claws to get a better look. It was painted grey, with neon pink and green stripes, and a small sticker of a wolf-looking animatronic on the bottom. Nightingale clicked it on to find it worked, putting off an eerie green light, but otherwise a perfectly normal flashlight. With a smile, she flicked it off and placed it in her bag. “Alright,” She said to herself. “I’m coming, Shatter.” 
She turned, making her way towards the path of small yellow sparkles that led further into the atrium. They led back farther and farther, until she couldn’t see the entrance any more. The stairs before her had crumbled long ago, and curious scraps of metal and the heads of S.T.A.F.F. bots were piled in the crumbled area of the stairs. 
“What the . . ?” Nightingale snuck over to the heads and peered at them. The sparkles led up the crushed stairs, but she could explore for now. She cautiously picked up one of the severed heads, though she didn't know why. 
Its eyes were open wide, the face donning large scratch marks that ran through its casing. The bot’s neck was exposed and the wires were hanging out as if it had been brutally ripped apart. Aside from the scuffed case and all the wires, it looked so . . . realistic. Nightingale could easily see how such a thing would be a major attraction, especially since it didn't exist anywhere else. She gently tapped the head, and it sprang to life, just for a moment.
”P-P-Peri-m-e-e-eter SEc-cu-cured . . .” Nightingale jumped as the S.T.A.F.F bot’s voice crackled loudly and died away. She shivered and dropped it back in the pile of scraps, watching it bounce and roll to stop. Many of the other robotic parts looked similar, exposed wires, cracked cases, all signs of being torn apart. Quite violently, she realized, feeling uneasy again. 
Squashing the thought, Nightingale used her wings to propel her up the broken stairs, and landed at the top. She didn't want to step on the scraps of broken bots, not knowing how much they'd hold. Even though she didn't weight a whole lot, it was better not to tempt fate anymore. The trail of sparkles now led to an elevator door that was half-blocked by the concrete that had fallen from the ceiling.
Nightingale walked towards the elevator and started to shove the debris out of the way, just enough to squeeze inside. She looked at the buttons, faded, rubbed away, or broken, and frowned. “Shatter?”
”I’m here,” Shatter’s voice whispered. “I’m sorry I had to leave you. Press the button to go up to the next floor."
"Thanks, Shatter, it would be really helpful if you told me which button," she said, making sure to inject the sentence with as much sarcasm as she could. Gale swore she heard a spectral sigh, and a few golden sparkles gathered around one of the buttons. 
"This one. It will take you to the daycare. Or at least, what remains of it." He paused, but then continued. "I have brought my friends to help me guide you. They are more familiar with some of these broken-down attractions than I am. First, however, we need to visit an old friend of mine . . .”
"Old friend?" Gale wondered aloud, but there was no answer. Shatter must have left again. With a sigh, she pressed the button, and the elevator started shakily rattling and climbing upwards. After about ten minutes, the doors half-opened, and Nightingale had to get a running start to leap up and grab the ledge of the next floor that was barely visible. Clinging to the edge of a broken-down floor was terrifying enough, especially as she heard (and saw) the elevator plunge back down behind her, grazing her tail and making her freeze.
The ledge made a small cracking noise, and Nightingale realized she had to hurry. Quickly, struggling, she hauled herself up, taking a moment to gather herself. As soon as she looked up, she let out an earsplitting scream as a pearly white figure leapt out of the shadows and grabbed her.
=== Chapter 3 ===
”TAKE A M-A-A-ASK. T-AKE A MASK.”
Nightingale's breathing was heavy, her flashlight on but dropped to the floor. She was being gripped by a much nicer-looking S.T.A.F.F. bot, the letter 'i' painted neatly on it's chest and a weird pair of horrible bunny ears sitting on top. It's grip was iron, and it wore a strange mask that seemed like the top half of a head casing for an animatronic, neatly painted white with purple lines and two black slits to represent closed eyes. The bot seemed to have no interest in hurting her, but it kept repeating the same phrase, like a broken record. "TA-TAKE A MASK. TAKE A MASK-MASK-MASK." 
It's speech glitched and repeated as the bot twitched every now and then. It seemed to be the most functional thing in this entire place, so far. "Shatter," Nightingale whispered, "What is this thing?"
For the first time, her question had no answer. Shatter didn't say a word, didn't show up. No golden sparkles told her what to do, just the bot's broken voice saying 'Take a mask' over and over. She looked into the animatronic's eyes, or at the least the ones painted on the mask it wore. "If I-If I take the mask," she started, but hesitated.
"T-TAKE A-A MASK."
"If I take it-Will you drop me?" Gale asked, confused but now wanting out of this robot's tight grip. The bot didn't seem to change, but something in it's tone of voice seemed to. 
"TAKE A MASK," it insisted, for the first time without a glitch. Nightingale cautiously reached out towards the bot's snout, and grabbed the thin plastic mask it wore. Gently, she unhooked it from the robot, and it instantly dropped her. It's real eyes seemed to be gone, hollow sockets with wires and sparks, but she felt a strange peace knowing that it meant her no harm. "T-THANK YOU FOR-FOR TAKING A MA-MASK-K. THANK Y-Y-YOU F-FOR TAKING-ING . . . A MASK . . . " 
The bot's voice trailed off and it suddenly doubled over, collapsing to the ground. Nightingale grabbed her flashlight off the ground, pointing it at the robot, but it seemed to be powerless. It served one purpose-and then it seemed to stop. Weird. Why was it so intent on giving me a mask? She thought, turning over the plastic sheet she now held. Even though the bot was bigger than her, the mask seemed like it would fit her almost perfectly. Glancing through the eyes, it seemed like nothing was wrong, and cautiously, Nightingale tried on the mask.
Nothing changed. The world around her was the exact same, and she blinked. She looked to her left-nothing. Her right-nothing. Then, she took a step forward, and almost immediately saw an orange and brown dragon leap into existence, right in front of her eyes. "AH!" Nightingale stumbled back, staring at the dragon. They seemed like they were right there, part of the world, like an employee or a visitor. "H-Hello?" she called out, a little scared of them, but they didn't even turn their head. The dragon, who was only a little bigger than Nightingale was, only seemed to bob their head, and that was when she noticed a vicious wound across the dragon's throat. It was lethal, certainly, but then . . . how were they here?
Hastily, she ripped off the mask and stared at it, expecting some kind of trick from the orange dragon. But when she looked back at the spot, they were gone. It was just the rubble and dust of an old, dilapidated building, after all.
An uneasy feeling came over Nightingale. “Shatter, it would be really helpful if you told me what do do right now . . .” Nightingale whispered. She put the mask back on, and the orange MudWing re-appeared. They took a moment to survey her surroundings, then bounded off down the corridor. What the . . . Nightingale walked a little closer and looked around. A big sign read ‘DAYCARE!’ To her right. Gale slowly made her way towards it, keeping an eye out for the orange dragon. She stepped into the doors that led to the daycare drop off area, and tilted her head.
’Slide into fun!’ Read a dilapidated sign hanging above a rickety slide. It's color was dulled over time into a dirty grey and brown, but at one point, it must have been a bright, colorful thing. A big statue of two animatronics seemed to once have stood in the center of the drop-off, but concrete that had fallen from the roof piled around where they might have been, crushing the statue into powder that caked the floor and stuck to everything. Clouded glass surrounded the slide, letting parents see into what once was the daycare.
“Might as well . . .” Nightingale trailed off as she swore she saw movement inside the Daycare itself. “Shatter?” She peeped. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement.
Whipping around, she aimed her flashlight on the area. Shatter seemed to be struggling with a purple haze, claws wrapped around his snout and claws. He looked . . . So real, so tangible. Not like his normal ghost form, but he looked flesh-and-blood. His eyes flashed as he flung open his wings, shining a light at the haze. Undeterred, the purple thing pinned him to the ground. He saw Gale and flung his wing out towards the slide. “GO!” Shatter shouted before the haze caught hold of him again and started dragging him away. It was like purple mist, winding itself around him and taking him away, and it paralyzed Nightingale.
Nightingale’s heart was pounding as she took one last look at her brother and dove headlong into the slide, tearing off the mask as she did. It creaked and bent under her weight, making her heart thump even faster. She screamed as she came to a bend, and part of the slide gave way. She was shot out of the plastic and into the air, about fifteen feet above the ground. Gale flung open her wings just in time, catching herself and righting herself in the air before crashing into a ball pit.
NO, NO, NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NONONONO, NO AND NOPE! Nightingale thought as something brushed her leg under the ball pit that stunk of rot. She hauled herself out and looked down at her leg with a scream. A millipede was clinging to her scales for dear life as she shook her leg and smacked at it with the flashlight. Smacking the insect off her leg, Nightingale, still shrieking, grabbed a nearby foam block and smacked the millipede back into the ball pit. To stop from crying from the sudden shock of whatever just happened at the drop off area, she plopped to the ground and looked back up at the way she had came.
Definitely not getting back up THAT way, She thought. The slide had collapsed after she made her dramatic exit, sealing off the only known way out. So, quietly, Nightingale shook herself and looked around. “Hello?” She called. “Any . . . Friends of Shatter around here?” She wasn't sure what else to say in that situation. She didn't know who his 'friends' were, but she had a strange feeling they may be spirits, just like he was. 
She put the mask back on, and instantly saw a large RainWing dragonet sobbing right next to her. Nightingale jumped, looking at them. At first, they seemed fine, but the more she looked, the more their scales seemed to be mangled and torn. Bones stuck out, and overall, something bad had happened to them. "Hello? Are you-Are you Shatter's friend?" she asked. The dragonet's head whipped around, before they stuck out their wings awkwardly and leapt into the air, disappearing from sight. What . . . was that? Gale thought, more confused.
She looked at the Daycare itself, taking off the mask. Outside of the rotted ball bit, there was most of a play structure still standing, covering most of the place. She could visibly see cobwebs all over it, but perhaps she could find a way above it . . . after all, most of the the walls were falling, and she believed she could see the rest of the pizzaplex beyond the fallen walls, but a thin net of mesh still held and blocked the way. Nightingale spread her wings, and leapt into the air towards the mesh. She pushed against it, and it stretched with her. She tried clawing it, but it held firm. This was designed specifically to stop dragonets from escaping . . . dragonets like me, she thought as she came back to the ground, a little frustrated.
Through parts of the play structure, she thought she could see a door rotting on it's hinges and some flickering lights. Maybe there was even some kind of desk over there, but she wasn't sure. Nightingale walked towards the nearest opening of the structure, and pressed her talon against it. The padding felt toughened, old, with dust and webbing clung to it tightly. Some of the ropes in the structure seemed almost frayed, like they would snap at any second. "I'm not going in there," she announced, backing up and tucking her wings to her sides. 
Gale looked around to try and find her options. The mesh blocked the outside, but there was an entire other half to the Daycare she couldn't reach without going into the structure. Rubble blocked her from going around it, and parts of the structure that had broken and were leaning blocked her from climbing or flying over it (though, Gale couldn't be paid to climb that thing). 
Nightingale let out a long sigh and turned the mask in her talons. What do I do? She looked at the inside of the mask curiously. It simply was a plastic sheet. She steeled herself for no apparent reason and placed it back on her face. “HEY!” She shouted. “IF YOU’RE A FRIEND OF SHATTER’S COME OUT!” 
Suddenly she heard whispers coming from inside the play structure. 
”Come on, Starseer! We should help her! Did you see what happened to him? He could be anywhere!” Said a young-sounding voice. 
”NO. This is a horrible idea. If we go out, he’ll see us too, and . . . What if . . . What if—?” Exclaimed an older, more worried voice. 
Nightingale cocked her head. “I can hear you, you know!” She exclaimed. “Come on out!” 
She heard a giggle and a sigh, then two dragonets appeared before her. One was a SandWing with golden yellow scales a bright, shining eyes. His sail was a brown-tan color, and his wings looked like the afternoon sun reflecting off of the sand. His claws and horns were ivory, and he had scars across both his eyes, and what looked like some kind of rope-burn around his neck in a scar. The other was a NightWing with dark, dark blue scales that were flecked with matte black. His eyes were a deep brown and his forehead was creased with worry. His horns and claws were pitch black, as well as his wings which were flecked with golden yellow stars. He had scars across his neck that looked very painful. 
”W-who are you? How did you get in here? And what happened to you?” Gale asked curiously. “No offense, but you look . . . Kinda . . . Dead?” 
The SandWing smirked. “That’s cuz we ARE, genius! I’m Sunrise!” He flared his wings in emphasis. “And this is—“ 
”Starseer,” The NightWing said briskly. “And we shouldn’t be here.” He glanced around nervously. “We really, really shouldn’t have come back here.” 
”Back?” Gale inquired. “And wait, you’re dead?” 
Sunrise bounded around her. “Yep! We used to be possessing these creepy animatronics and were mind controlled by a psycho maniac dragonet murderer.” He said it like he had just told her that ducks had wings. 
”No no no no no,” Starseer murmured, clutching his head. “I can’t be here. Not after—!” 
Sunrise pounced on him. “Let’s help her escape! It’ll be fun! After all, Shatter told us that if he wasn’t here, and she was in danger, to protect her.” 
”I-I’m in danger?” Gale peeped. Yes, she had run away from home. Yes, she was in a huge abandoned, haunted pizzaplex. And yes, her brother (and only source of guidance) was being attacked by purple mist. But the idea of “danger” hadn’t really set in. All of the possibilities of what could happen to her, and she suddenly felt hopeless. Will I ever see Star and Golden again? What if I don’t make it out alive?
Nightingale's breathing quickened as invisible claws seized her heart and lungs. "I-I can't," she whispered, pressing her talons to her head. The flashlight didn't feel good pressed up against her scales, but she couldn't think straight for a second. I can't do this to them. I can't break mom and dad's hearts again. They can't lose another dragonet. 
"Can't what, friend?" Sunrise asked, tilting his head. 
"Sunrise, she's scared to death." Starseer wiggled out of Sunrise's grip and seemed just as panicked as Nightingale was. "And I am too. P-Please, Sunny," he said, his voice dropping suddenly to a whimper. Sunrise's face softened and he put a wing around Starseer, who leaned into the younger SandWing. 
"I-I can't die in here," she whispered, looking at the two of them. "Please, you two know my brother. Don't let me die." Gale looked at them with pleading eyes, not realizing until now how scary the situation was, all things considered. 
"We won't let that happen," Starseer said, reaching out a talon towards her. "We know how it feels. Awful."
"Your brother, Shatter," Sunrise smiled, taking over the conversation, and also extended his talon towards Nightingale. "He saved us, y'know. We owe him a whoooole lot. So, I promised that me and Starseer, and the others, would protect you! Since he apparently gave you a trail and led you on this wild goose chase in the first place." Sunrise giggled a bit. 
Nightingale found a smile break her own face, placing her talon in a way to take both dragonets' talons at once. "It's not a wild goose chase, Sunrise," she said. "I want to know the truth about this place. I want to know what happened here." She found a comfort in these dragons offering to protect her, even if they seemed younger than she was in body, but perhaps not in mind. I wonder who that 'he' they talked about is. And what they mean by 'Shatter freed them'. I know the animatronics were possessed, but there's so much to uncover here.
Starseer closed his eyes and spoke very gently. "The truth is an awful thing. It isn't something the weak can bear."
"I want to know."
"Well, we know where you should go then!" Sunrise chirped, smiling. "These ruins will take you to the kitchens. Maybe Caine is there, but I don't think so."
Gale nodded, not completely understanding. “Alright . . . Where should we go?”
Starseer piped up. “Through the playhouse. You can get to an electrical and cooling duct from th—“
“No no no, we’ll go through the vents!” Sunrise interrupted. “The Mini Music Wings are out and about still, after four years, but we can easily guide her through!”
”I am ABSOLUTELY NOT going in the playhouse,” Nightingale shuddered. “There’s spiders in there.”
Sunrise blinked slowly. “There’s spiders everywhere, little gal! Come on!” He bounced off towards the desk, half-jumping half-flying.
Starseer shrugged. “Make your choice. Robotic spiders, or normal ones you can kill. I’ll be waiting.” He turned swiftly and slipped into the cobweb-ridden playhouse. Nightingale watched him and bit her lip.
Who do I follow? And what did he mean about ROBOT SPIDERS!?! She let out a big shudder. Ugh . . . I guess I’ll follow Sunrise, and if things get too sketchy, I’ll turn back and follow Starseer instead. She nodded to herself and slowly made her way to the desk. “Sunrise?” She called. “I’m here.”
Sunrise giggled and peeked out from behind the desk. “Come on! Just crawl through this vent shaft, and I’ll meet you in the cooling room.” He made a running slide into the duct like it was a slip-n’-slide, and disappeared down the tight space.
Nightingale peeked in before army-crawling inside and looking down at the rusted, creaking vents. She swallowed a lump in her throat and kept going. Suddenly, she dropped. With a loud scream she slid down the shaft headfirst, banging into the sides loudly. Nightingale dug her claws into the metal and panted, being able to stop herself and look down. A long, steeper drop was ahead of her. “Shatter!” She screeched. “HELP!”
Sunrise appeared, looking worried. “Let go, Nightingale! If you don’t, you’ll hurt yourself!”
Gale shook her head, panicking in the night space as she clung to the metal for dear life. “NO!”
”I hate to do this,” Sunrise sighed, placing his claws on hers. “But I’ll see you at the bottom.” He yanked, and Gale’s Claws slipped out. She plummeted backwards, sliding down the shaft, too scared to scream.
She did let out another shriek when she plowed through a cobweb, but luckily there were no spiders. After a bit more sliding, she was spat out into a pitch-dark room and tossed into a pile of stinking trash bags.
Nightingale crawled out, sobbing. She shook herself multiple times then cowered on the ground beneath her wings. I want the truth, She thought. But I also want to go home! She felt a warm wing on her back and her head snapped up. It felt just like when Shatter comforted her during the night time. Sunrise was sitting next to her, smiling down at her softly. “Are you okay?” He said softly. He brushed off her cheeks and shifted a little closer, his warm scales erasing the chilly air.
”W-w-where are w-we?” Gale peeped, peering into the darkness after calming down a bit. 
Sunrise looked up. “The cooling room. A huge fan is in here, but it’s long been rusted up. If we can get past it, it’ll lead to the kitchen.”
”If?” Nightingale asked. “Why ‘if’?”
Sunrise gasped and threw his wings out to shield Gale. A click-click-click noise echoed through the large room. Nightingale hid a scream as a robotic spider-like dragon skittered into view.
It had rusty, dirty metal plating that used to be white, and pink accents. It had long, sharp mandibles and eight legs used for compacting trash. It let out a small squeaking noise and skittered away again.
“That’s the ‘if’,” Sunrise whispered. “There’s maybe fifty of them in here.”
”Why couldn’t it see me?” Nightingale asked, her voice quivering.
Sunrise smiled. “They're practically blind, but they can hear more than they should for their own good. It probably assumed that a mouse or something made the noise."
”C-C-can we go back? I think I’d rather race alive spiders.” Nightingale squeaked, almost silently.
Sunrise shook his head, grinning. “Nope! Come on. I’ll guide you. If you can hide, you can do it. Let’s get moving before they hear you.” 
Nightingale went to remove her mask, but Sunrise stopped her. “Don’t. That’s the only thing that lets you see and hear me. I’ll explain later. Come on!” He slipped ahead, casting a pale yellow glow on the ground. She blinked, confused. Why would the mask do that? Is that-Does it let me see spirits? Are these all dead dragons? But then . . . why didn't the other ones seem to notice me? This is all hurting my brain . . .
Nightingale quickly followed him, keeping her head low. He gasped and jumped away as a robot skittered out of the trash. It used its mandibles to rip open a trash bag, and started to compact it into a little square. KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT! Nightingale thought frantically. She squirmed in her own scales, hiding back, but Sunrise turned to her and nodded his head towards the spider.
It’s life and death! Gale thought as pounced on the spider, ripping its head off and dropping it, recoiling as soon as she did so. "Ew, ew ew ew ew EW!" She said, stepping back. "I hate spiders, I hate them so much."
“That’s it!” Sunrise cheered. “You're doing wonderful. C’mon, though. There’s a big swarm ahead, so stay pretty quiet.” 
Nightingale nodded, shaking violently. She crept forwards, keeping her eyes on the surroundings. Ahead she saw huge rusted fan blades, and about ten other spider droids skittering about, obviously alerted that they were there. They must be able to communicate, She thought. So when I killed that one, it alerted all fifty of them.
Suddenly, Nightingale’s foot crunched down on something and she froze. A huge, still moving, actual, living, fluffy spider was wriggling around beneath her claw. Nightingale screamed at the top of her lungs and recoiled, shaking the pancaked spider off of her talon. "SUNRISE! Get it AWAY FROM ME!" she screamed, jumping up. It took a moment for her to realize two hundred eyes lit up and stared at her in the darkness. “Oh no.”
CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK! 
Angry noises from the spider drones erupted, and the bots surged towards her, a few of the glassy eyes flashing orange.
“RUN, NIGHTINGALE!” Sunrise screamed.
Nightingale took off towards the fan blades, the army of robotic arachnids at her tail. A sharp pain clamped down on one of her wing bones, and she saw that one of them had bitten into her wing. Gale smacked it against the ground, but it didn’t let go. Don’t stop! Gale told herself. A sharp yank on her tail made her loose her footing and fall, rolling across the ground and staggering to her claws.
Sunrise tried to fight off the swarm, but his ghostly talons only worked on the ones with orange eyes. “Nightingale!” He cried as ten bots piled on top of her, biting and clawing at her.
Nightingale screamed and shrieked, smashing the ones on her wings against the ground and rolling on her back to crush the remaining ones. But it felt like for every one she killed, three more clamped their painful jaws down on her. Like they were trying to tear her apart, or something. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and she opened her mouth. Blazing hot fire shot out at the swarm, and an unknown substance on the ground lit aflame, making a wall of fire.
”Run! I’m right behind you!” Sunrise called. 
Nightingale scooched back from the fire, getting to her talons before she took off and sprinted as fast as her talons could carry her. Go go go go go GOOOOOO—OOH NOOOOOOO! Nightingale screamed in her head as she ran past the rusted fan blades and her talons slipped on cool metal in the pitch darkness. She started falling headfirst once more, but the vents gave way under her and she started falling.
A warm talon snatched her claw just before she fell into a slightly brighter room with tiled floors that vaguely resembled a kitchen of some sort. Sunrise smiled at her. “I’m going to let you down slowly, okay?” He said, starting to lower her.
Nightingale nodded and suddenly realized she was crying. “I-I-I’m sorry,” She said shakily. “I d-d-don’t know w-why I’m c-cry-i-ing.” She swiped at her face, trying to be brave.
”I would be crying if I were you,” Sunrise said truthfully. “Trust me. I . . .” He suddenly trailed off and hopped down after her. His eyes grew wide in fear. “Nightingale, take off your mask.”
”What?” Gale asked curiously. “Why?”
”Take it off!” Sunrise pleaded. “Please! I promised—I promised . . .” He stopped in his tracks as purple mist oozed from the floor and collected in a sort of RainWing-like shape. “I promised—!”
”Sunrise!” Gale cried. “That’s the thing that took away Shatter! What is i—“ She stopped in her tracks as the RainWing held up the limp form of her brother. He wasn't fighting back at all, just . . . hanging there, like a corpse. "Shatter!" Nightingale shouted, reaching forwards, but Sundrop pulled her talon back. "Shatter, please, fight it! I need you!"
“Looking for this?” The creature hissed in a voice that sounded like it was gargling with nails. “Ah, Sundrop. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll give her up without any issues.”
Nightingale’s veins felt like they were frozen when it was close to her. She felt the icy breath of death close to her. Sunrise snarled and bared his teeth. “No way, Afton. I’m not scared of you anymore.”
Afton?! Nightingale’s head was spinning. “Sunrise—“
”You SHOULD be scared, foul dragonet.” The ghost cackled, kicking the body of Shatter and holding up another. Nightingale realized it was Starseer, most of him bound by purple mist. He was struggling weakly, but his panicked eyes locked with Sunrise's and they both froze. 
"Starseer," Sunrise said, his voice cracking as he reached out. The RainWing flared his wing, blocking their view of the NightWing, and Sunrise shakily said, "L-Let him go! Let him go right now, or I'll-" 
"You'll what, little SandWing? Tear me apart? Crush me again?" it laughed, a cruel, grating sound. "What, kill me again? Death does not scare me the way it scares you. But I'll make you a deal," it said. Nightingale realized something, she knew what was coming up. Judging by Sunrise's face, he knew what it was too. "Give me this pest, and I'll give you your brother back. It's a simple trade, really. I just want Six's sibling." 
Nightingale felt powerless, like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. No. Please, don't give me up, Sunrise, she thought, looking at the SandWing. But deep down, Gale knew that if the roles were reversed, she'd do anything for her own brother. Especially giving up a stranger she'd never met. I'd trade Sunrise for Shatter in a wingbeat, no hesitation, she knew. Sunrise looked at Nightingale, then at the RainWing, and shuddered. 
"You'll still come after us, even if I gave you her . . . " he said, shaking. "I-I refuse." 
Suddenly, without warning, the RainWing snarled and jumped at Sunrise. Claws wrapped around Sunrise and tore at his scales, pinning him to the ground and beating at him. Nightingale was shocked, too stunned to move, and in a desperate fit of terror, reached up and tore off her mask. 
But the dragons didn't leave. Sunrise was still there, writhing on the ground, but now he looked like a proper spirit, wispy and his fatal scars no longer present. It was like Shatter whenever he visited her. She could also see that, through a much less dense purple mist, there was the spirit of the NightWing, and a frozen, paralyzed spirit of her brother. 
A wave of fury overcame Nightingale as she put the mask back on and barreled towards the fog and Sunrise. “LET HIM GO!” Nightingale screamed, lunging at the fog and breathing fire at it. The fog let out an ear-piercing shriek and recoiled off of Sunrise, scooping up Shatter and Starseer before disappearing. As it did, it hissed one last foul sentence. 
"You'll never see your brother again, SandWing . . . " 
Sunrise's face fell, but he gave Gale a weak smile. “T-Thanks, Nightingale.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I really didn’t want to relive my death.” He looked at where the mist had been, and started to cry. "I hope Starseer forgives me. Moons, I feel awful for doing that to him."
Nightingale nodded an patted him. “He'll understand, like I do, I'm sure."
"He's been forced to relive the past so many times," Sunrise whispered, wiping his eyes. "I just want to be a good brother."
"Hey, shh, it's alright, Sunrise," Gale said. "Siblings want to look out for each other, but it's hard sometimes. You made the right choice, I say. I’m here for the truth, and . . . Well . . . You just helped me figure some of it out."
=== Chapter 4 ===
Nightingale looked around the kitchen nervously, as Sunrise started to control himself. “So . . . Care to explain what that was all about?”
Sunrise shrugged, sniffling. “Honestly, I don’t really know. That . . . Thing is the ghost of Afton. And we thought by crushing him in the sinkhole we could get rid of him,” He added under his breath. "It was Shatter and Puppet's idea, and we thought it worked."
"But . . . you were wrong, weren't you?" Nightingale asked, tentatively. She didn't want to poke at a soft spot, though this entire subject seemed sore to the SandWing ghost. The once cheerful seeming dragonet was recovering from tears, and was clearly feeling immense guilt. Like I do. Because I've failed Shatter. 
"No, you haven't failed," Sunrise said. Gale must have said something out loud. "You haven't failed until you give up. Please, Nightingale . . . don't give up. Do it for us." He reached out his talon, took Gale's, and she felt a sweeping warmth run through her. 
Nightingale nodded, a little comforted. “O-okay. I’ll try to be brave. But, Sunrise," she asked, looking at the golden dragon, "Do you know what happened to Shatter? He was all . . . you know,” Gale asked as she started looking for a way out of the kitchen. 
Sunrise thought for a moment. “I don’t exactly know. Starseer would be able to figure it out . . .” Shaking it off, Sunrise helped her to look around. “My best guess is that Afton knocked him out somehow, or paralyzed his ghost. And he’s dragging Shatter along for the ride because if he woke up, he would be a threat to Afton’s ‘master plan’.” Sunrise made big air quotes. "He's been trying to catch all of us . . . I just didn't realize that was what he'd do." 
"I wonder if it's like a sleep for them," Nightingale offered, trying to be hopeful, but Sunrise shuddered and looked down. 
"Starseer wouldn't be so panicked if it was. It's impossible that they're at peace. I-He's made us relive our deaths so many times when we were robots. I think he's doing that again." 
”Good to know,” Nightingale commented, unnerved. “I know Shatter's not dead—well, I do know he is dead, but—do you get what I’m saying?” 
Sunrise laughed a little, perking up. “Yeah. I get it.” He walked over to some doors and nodded at them. “Come on. This way is to get onto Rockstar Row, then we’ll go through the Arcade, through Gator Golf, and hopefully end up at Wolfy’s Skyway before even having to cross the dance floor. Well . . . what remains of it, anyway." 
”What’s wrong with the dance floor?” Nightingale asked, pushing open the doors. They came out into a hallway that led into another hallway that was open to the main atrium: Rockstar Row. Shattered glass cases of old relics and newspapers from the Tedbear’s Diner locations were buried under rubble, or broken or torn beyond repair. The hallway itself didn't seem to be in great condition either, but at least it wasn't exposed to the outside from here. "Shatter told me that it was Kvita's favorite place to be." 
Sunrise shivered. “I hope she's still free . . . Kvita's such a nice dragon, you know?" He smiled, and Nightingale nodded. An IceWing named Kvita was the topic of many of his conversations about the pizzplex, since she'd been the spirit inside the animatronic who'd helped him survive at all—Kitta. "Anyway," Sunrise said, blinking. "DJ Music Wing is why. He’s probably still active. He was the only one of us who didn't have a spirit, just programming. Anyways, come on. Let’s get going.” 
Nightingale nodded, padding along when suddenly, a splitting headache overcame her and she doubled over on the floor with a groan. “Ah!" she gasped, before the pain made her simply let out a low moan. ". . . That hurts . . .” 
“Gale!” Sunrise rushed to her side. “Are you okay?” 
”My head . . .” Nightingale whimpered. “It hurts so bad . . .” Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw what looked like a pristine golden rabbit plush animatronic with a purple ribbon around its neck. It moved in fluid motions as if it didn’t have electronics inside it. The edges of her vision got dark and cloudy. The thing’s eyes were glowing purple and streaked a digital glitch like trail. 
Sunrise looked around, and he paused. “Take off the mask, Gale. You’ll be without a guide, but you have to take off the mask. It'll be safer for you. I can feel something c-coming.” His voice grew more glitched sounding as the . . . Thing moved closer. 
Nightingale tore off the mask, panting, and her headache instantly eased. Her vision returned to normal, and she looked over at the bunny animatronic. Or rather . . . Where it was. It was completely gone. “What the . . .” Nightingale murmured to herself. “Sunrise?” 
The faint, faint image of Sunrise appeared, but he was appearing and disappearing, his voice like terrible, glitchy, old audio feed. “e-e-ed t-o f—-ow m-e-e-e, O—k-k-k-ay? I—trytoguideyou—don’t—ma-a-back-o-o-n.” She reached out, but after delivering his message he disintegrated into small golden sparkles. 
What did he say? Nightingale wondered. ‘Need to follow me’ and . . . He’ll try to hide? No, guide me. But what did he say to not do? Nightingale picked the mask back up and looked inside. It was still a plain old plastic sheet. But it allows me to see things I can't. Like the ghosts. Like that weird mist. Like this bunny thing. With a curious glance, she put it back on. 
This time, the headache came back more splitting than ever. The animatronic was atop her, grinning madly as it struggled to pin her down. Its plush-looking claws ended in rusted metal talons, clawing at Gale. Nightingale screamed and kicked, flailing around wildly in an attempt to escape. Claws raked at her, and she felt wounds open up on her body. Oddly enough, they didn't burn the way normal wounds did-No, these were chillingly cold, like her very being was under attack. 
”HELP!” Nightingale screamed, throwing her flashlight at the creature. It clattered off its head and smashed on the ground. The animatronic pinned her to the ground, and shoved her head against the cold floor. Her glasses slipped off her snout and slid away from her as she screamed, “SUNRISE!” 
Nightingale saw Sunrise appear and jump onto the thing’s back, biting at it and stabbing it with his tail barb. The animatronic grabbed him by the tail and threw him like a baseball. Sunrise shrieked as he disappeared over the balcony railing. 
Nightingale’s joints seized up and she was completely paralyzed. The animatronic’s plush face ripped open, revealing rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth. Just as it was about to bite down on her neck, Sunrise flew in and landed on the ground in a full-on sprint. 
Sunrise charged at the thing, flinging his wings open and roaring, distracting everyone from the battle. The animatronic stopped and turned, and it was just enough for Nightingale to throw the mask off and fall to the ground. 
She was alone again. Breathing hard, and she reached towards her cheek where she'd felt that icy pain. It flared up, and she checked her talon, seeing blood drip from the wound. It can hurt me, even though it's not real, she thought, looking around. I want to help Sunrise. I need to help him to survive. But that thing . . . I can't fight it. 
Frustrated, Gale tested her wings and tail, checking for any other injuries she didn't notice. She was already bruising, and a slice on her chest stung like fire (now acting like a proper wound), but it was all the damage she had sustained. What was that thing? She wondered. Some kind of . . . Robotic ghost? A demon? It only shows up if I put the mask on though . . . Maybe if I leave it off for a while, the thing will go away. It'll forget I'm here. 
Gale hesitantly picked up the mask, but nothing grabbed her. She put it under her arm, and nervously, terrified, looked for a way forward. It was dark, dusty, and her flashlight was broken. 
Nightingale picked up the broken remains of the flashlight and flinched as an exposed wire shocked her talon. She dropped it back on the ground and rummaged around in her satchel for the other flashlight and some food. Gale picked her glasses up from the ground and put them on. The left lens had a crack in it, but other than that they were perfectly functional. 
Her ears seemed to pick up on a faint sound. It sounded like . . . screaming. A cry for help. Nightingale strained to listen, and heard the faintest whisper of Sunrise's voice, shouting, sobbing, and then fading into nothing. Oh Sunrise, she thought, trying not to cry, I'm sorry. 
Fighting the urge to cry made her realize how thirsty she was. Taking off her satchel, Gale chose a slice of bread and some jerky to have to tide her over. It’s been . . . What, eight hours since I’ve drunk something? I'm parched. As the reality of her situation set in, Nightingale nervously nibbled her food, mulling over her thoughts. When she was finished, she ran all the way back to the kitchen, and looked for something to drink. 
The drip, drip, drip, of a leaky faucet was her first hint that there was water in the room. Using her ears and nose, she made her way over to a big metal sink used for washing dishes. A rusty, leaky pipe on the ceiling dripped water slowly into the sink. Nightingale fished a dusty glass out of a cupboard and plugged up the sink with a stopper. 
Now if I can get up there and jiggle the pipe, I should be able to get more water to come out. Nightingale scrambled onto the counter and hesitantly climbed up the cupboards after opening the doors, using the shelves as footholds. She reached and grabbed the pipe, furrowing her brow as she jiggled it, making the drip into a tiny flow of water. Nightingale, holding on to the pipe with one claw and the glass in her other, reached over and rinsed out the glass before getting some and drinking it. The water tasted like a dusty old penny, but it felt good in her dry throat. 
After drinking about seven small cups of water, the trickle turned back into a drip, and finally there was no more water left. Gale carefully climbed back down onto the ground and let out an exhausted sigh. I have to keep going, She told herself, walking back out into Rockstar Row. For Sunrise, Starseer, and especially Shatter. Nightingale withdrew her flashlight she had gotten when she first arrived, and clicked it on. Eerie green light bathed the way ahead of her. 
With a shaky breath, Nightingale walked forwards into the unknown. 
=== Chapter 5 ===
The kitchen remains, as Sunrise said, did lead into Rockstar Row. Well, what's left of it, anyway, Gale thought as she picked up a chunk of stone and tossed it away. The walls were crumbling all along the hall, showing glimpses into the other ruined parts of the pizzaplex and exposing insulation, wood framing, and in her eyes, shoddy craftsmanship. Display cases that likely once held trophies, plaques, records, animatronic parts and a whole menagerie of other pizzeria relics were now shattered, the glass scattered about their contents either left to rot or stolen long ago. To her right, large used-to-be-rooms that had a vague sense of theme to them were neatly lined up, most of the merchandise and neon naming signs long gone. 
"This place doesn't seem so bad," Nightingale remarked, waving her flashlight around at everything. Other than a rat that skittered about every now and then, there wasn't a thing to hurt her. Her path wasn't blocked at all, and as long as she watched where she stepped, she'd remain virtually untouched. Okay. So the only threat is if the floor is unstable. It sounds like there's rooms underneath, and Shatter mentioned a basement.
As if the thought summoned it, part of the floor Gale was just about to step on crumbled, opening up before her like a small sinkhole. "Woah!" she yelled, taking a step back and flaring her wings. "I've gotta be more careful," she whispered, peering into the hole. What she could see through the dust, rubble, framing, and what little remained of a ceiling underneath wasn't a lot. It seemed like it was just full of more trash, bags tossed into heaping piles, overflowing, flies and rats constantly moving and making the whole room seem moving at this distance. "Nobody must have gone down there. Like a trash pit," she murmured.
"Who's there?!"
Nightingale jumped, dropping her flashlight. The plastic colliding with what was left of tiled flooring echoed in the old building, and she quickly reached to pick it up and silence the sound. The whole place was silent, except for her own heavy breathing. She couldn't see anything moving around, no faint sparkling trails, and she was not going to put the mask back on yet.
"You're not being sneaky, Afton! Release my friends!"
The voice from before. It had a distinct rasp to it, hoarse and dry, slightly manic and shrieking. Nightingale didn't recognize it. Is it a spirit? One of Shatter's friends? He said they would recognize me, though. Gale moved her flashlight around, looking at anything that seemed like it might be speaking to her or hiding someone who was. Part of her wanted to call back, but she didn't want to give away her location to a possible threat.
Without warning, something slammed into her from behind. Nightingale cried, clutching her head. It felt like her head was exploding, and the world was slightly blurry even with her glasses. From behind her, something heavy and metal dropped to the floor and a distinct voice gasped.
"Oh. Shatter's gonna kill me for this . . . Nightingale? Is that you?"
She rubbed her head and turned around. The metal pan she'd been hit with was on the ground, and near it was a faint white outline of a SeaWing. "Yyyyyeah?" she mumbled, dragging out the word without meaning to.
"I am so sorry for that. I thought you were Afton." The air around her seemed to move a bit. "Here, put this on and we can have a proper conversation." 
The very air itself seemed to pluck the mask from under Gale's arm and hold it out. She jumped and took a defensive stance, staring wildly at the mask. "I am not putting that thing back on!"
" . . . It's because of Afton, isn't it?" the voice sounded sarcastic and bored, and Gale swore she heard a groan. "He's not here. You've scared him off for now, and good riddance. Now I've just gotta get him to release Sun, Moon, and your own brother. Now, put it on and we can talk." Nightingale took the mask from the nothingness and looked at it. She peered through one of the eye holes. It seemed fine, but she was wary.
"Let's . . . let's keep talking like this for a bit. Who are you?" she asked, and the faint white outline tilted their head. 
"Caine. I want to help you, but if you want my best help, you're gonna have to put on the mask."
Nightingale didn't want to budge. She didn't want to attract that thing to her again. "If I put it on, he'll se me, won't he? If I don't have it, it's like I don't exist in your world, right?"
"Sort of," Caine said, the wispy white tail flicking. "You're here, very clearly, but I can't touch you." To demonstrate, the spirit moved towards her, and Nightingale felt a chill run through her as a white talon touched her snout. "See? You know I'm here, but our worlds are separate." To Nightingale, the spirit didn't seem like they could be more than Shatter's age, but they talked like someone much older. Their somewhat sassy tone suggested a young adult, at the bare minimum. Shatter was hardly beyond the child-like dragonet stage. 
"Why doesn't that dragon-Afton-Try and follow me around to catch me then?" Nightingale asked, tracing the edge of the plastic mask while looking between it and Caine. Do I put in on? The worst that could come of it is pretty severe . . . but Afton retreated. I saw him flee. How quickly can he come back? Shatter said that one of the last things he said was 'I always come back' . . . she groaned audibly, and Caine blinked, startled. 
"Don't look at me," she snapped. "I'm not that insane dragonet-killer. He probably has been following you, just didn't strike until you were vulnerable." That information did not make Nightingale feel better. "Now, last chance. Put on the mask, or I'm gone, and you can have fun navigating this place without me."
She didn't want to budge on it. But Caine is my only guide. Oh, Shatter, I wish you were here to tell me what to do. Gale held her breath, waiting for the faint voice of her brother to answer her call, but nothing came of it. She let out the air in a sigh, and looked at the spirit of Caine. "Fine," she whispered, and slowly, she slipped the mask back on. Nothing attacked her. Nothing seemed to change.
Well, nothing except for the fact that Caine now seemed very much alive, and right in front of her. She was a sandy tan and white SeaWing, a contrast to the blues and greens they normally were. Most of her body was otherwise normal, with pale glowing scales, but similar to Sunrise and Starseer, a fierce, nasty reminder of her own death marred her scales. Across her chest was a deep cut, and when Nightingale peered closer, she swore she didn't see a heart in Caine's chest. There was also a nasty scar on Caine's neck, but the SeaWing must have saw her staring and flinched. 
“Don’t—I’d rather you not stare.” She hissed, retreating a few steps. Nightingale could have sworn she heard her whisper, “It’s not my fault Bonnie took my heart out.’ 
Nightingale looked down at her talons awkwardly. She didn’t want to pry, but . . . She was also curious. “So . . .” She mumbled. “I put it on, what now?” 
Caine let out a hissing breath and turned to signal Gale to follow. “This way. I have no idea why Shatter brought you here,” She continued after a moment. “This place is dangerous. Especially for a puny runt like you. Ghosts, murder, animatronics . . . It’s not something for the faint of heart. Especially a LIVING heart.” She walked right through the rubble while Nightingale picked her way around it. 
”Well . . .” Gale started defensively. “First of all, I came all on my own. I wanted to know what happened here. Second of all, I’m not puny nor a ru—AHH!” She screeched and scrambled away from a large spider that emerged from the rubble. 
Caine snorted in amusement. “Mhm, right.” She paused and her ears pricked up. “Shut up for a second.” 
Nightingale held her breath, poised to yank the mask off her face. Please let it be Shatter, let him be okay, Her mind pleaded. 
”Okay, come on. We’re going to make our way through the back of Rockstar Row and through the trash compactor.” Caine glanced back at Gale. “Try to be quiet.” 
”Why?” Nightingale asked, looking ahead. “The way forward seems fine to me.” 
Caine rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, throw a rock at the ground.” 
Nightingale mentally rolled her eyes back and picked up a good sized chunk of concrete. She tested its weight in her talon, then threw it forwards. 
A deep rumble. 
CRACK! SMASH! BAM! 
The entire floor around the rubble chunk collapsed and cracks spider-webbed across the ground. Nightingale blinked. “O-oh.” 
”I’ve seen one too many rats go that way,” Caine huffed. “Now are you going to be an idiot, or follow me?” She flared her wings in emphasis and walked over to a large, shut steel door. 
”Fine, I’m coming.” Nightingale growled. I liked Sunrise better. Placing her talons on the cool metal, she shoved as hard as she could. The hinges screeched exceptionally loudly, and the door popped open. “That was loud,” Gale whispered.
Caine sassily flicked her tail and walked ahead into the dark. “Good job. C’mon, follow me. Don’t turn your flashlight on, it’s too bright.” She trailed off ominously, looking all around the entrance before waving Nightingale inside.
”Why?” Gale asked, walking around a pile of rusty nails. “Nothing’s here.”
”That’s what you think.”
=== Chapter 6 ===
Following Caine turned out to be a lot harder than following Sunrise. While Nightingale had to keep climbing over things, squeezing through tight spaces, and take her time to make sure she didn't get hurt, the ghosts could simply walk and float over it like nothing. Caine also didn't wait for Nightingale for very long, and instead plowed ahead regardless of whether the purple dragonet was keeping up.
Gale placed her talons on a collapsed wall of concrete rubble and bit the inside of her cheek, shifting some of the rusty metal bars so she could attempt a squeeze-though. Sucking her breath in, Nightingale braced herself and pinned her wings to her sides, trying to focus on the path ahead. “Caine!” She grunted, barely tumbling out the other side of the pile before it collapsed behind her. “Wait up!”
”QUIET!” Caine snapped, voice cracking as if she was trying to hide—what was it? Fear? The faint blue glow of SeaWing scales bathed a tight space and corridor ahead. “Shut up and come on.”
Nightingale hesitated for a moment before picking herself up and continuing. As she coughed a thick layer of dust out of her lungs she squinted at a dark shadow in the room at the end of the corridor. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Gale.” Caine hissed. “Silence. Now.”
Gale held her breath and crept as quietly as she possibly could forwards and into the next room. She froze as she saw the collapsing of rubble in between two, giant, rusty metal plates. Beneath the fallen debris, a single, faded blue-purple claw could be seen sticking out. Wires protruded from the metal and the talon had exposed metal armatures inside.
Caine darted past the trash compactor and urgently waved on Nightingale.
Nightingale paused and slowly wandered closer to the talon. “What is this?” She whispered, gently poking the cool metal. 
The SeaWing bolted over and grabbed her by the wing, yanking her away. “Hurry!” She snarled. “Come on! Let’s GO!” 
Gale growled and swatted her away. “I’m trying to figure out what happened here, can’t you let me investigate?”
Caine froze in her tracks, eyes wide in terror as the talon . . . Moved? “Afton,” She choked out, staring at the metal. “He’s here.”
A faint jingle echoed through the corridors . . . 
“What . . ?” Gale breathed, eyes darting around in the darkness. It sounds like the old music box I used to have in my room when I was scared of the dark and couldn’t sleep! She realized. But that was years ago—how is it here? “What is that?”
Caine’s eyes flashed with a horrible fear that sent chills through Nightingale’s scales. “Please,” She begged. “Come on!” 
“Okay, I’m coming!” Nightingale exclaimed, picking up the pace towards the door on the other end of the room. 
The talon twitched again as the music grew louder.
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Inspired by Fiction
Category:Genre (Horror)
Category:Collaborations