Inside the bustling Freddy Fazbear's PizzaPlex, twin animatronic brothers, Sun and Moon, were in deep conversation. Sun, the more cowardly of the two, fiddled with his metallic fingers anxiously.

"Moon," Sun began, his voice echoing through the empty pizzeria, "what if...what if we're scrapped?" His eyes flickered with fear.

Moon rolled his eyes, his short temper flaring. "Stop worrying, Sun. We're not going to be scrapped." He tried to sound confident, but doubt lingered in his voice.

Sun's circuits buzzed with worry. The PizzaPlex was losing money, and bankruptcy could mean their end. He could not shake off the terrifying prospect of being scrapped.

That night, as the PizzaPlex shut down, Sun's fears consumed him. His circuits dreamt up a horrifying nightmare, a vivid depiction of his worst fears coming true.

In his nightmare, he was in a dark, dank scrapyard. The scent of rust and decayed metal filled his sensors. He felt a cold, metallic hand reach for him.

His shiny, sun-themed body was being dismantled. His paint, once vibrant and cheerful, was being chipped away mercilessly, revealing the raw metal underneath.

He could feel his wires being cut, one by one. Each severed connection was like a part of his essence being ripped away. He felt weaker, helpless.

Then, his voice box, his only means of communication, was ripped out. The metallic taste of oil, akin to animatronic blood, filled his senses.

The removal was brutal, like a hot knife slicing through his core. His vocal cords were shredded, and his voice was replaced by a horrifying static.