Harley Sawyer was not a man who shared.

Everything in Playtime Co. belonged to someone-test subjects belonged to the researchers, researchers belonged to the company, and the company itself belonged to Leith Pierre.

But Yarnaby?

Yarnaby must be his loyal pet till the end.

Harley made sure of that.

From the moment of Yarnaby's creation, Harley had ensured that no one-no one-had direct contact with the beast.

The workers feared him, the other test subjects barely lasted long enough to even see him, and Pierre? Pierre didn't care as long as the experiments continued.

And that was the way Harley liked it.

Leith Pierre had always considered everyone in this facility as his pets, pawns to be used and discarded at will. Even Harley himself-brilliant, ruthless, invaluable-was nothing more than a piece in his game.

Harley was well aware of this.

Which was why he made sure Yarnaby was different.

Pierre didn't like him. Never had.

It was no secret that Playtime Co.'s Head of Special Projects was not a man the higher-ups fully trusted. He was too independent, too unpredictable, too useful to get rid of but too dangerous to control.

So he played along, entertained their little games, let Pierre keep his delusions of power.

But at the end of the day, Harley had Yarnaby.

A creature unlike any other. A pet that he can order at will.

Or at least, that had been the case.

Until she showed up.

Harley's gaze flicked to Yazmina as she walked a few paces ahead of him, Yarnaby trailing at her side like a faithful hound. The monstrous lion's vibrant mane shifted as he moved, brushing against her arm in a way that made Harley's jaw tighten.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Yarnaby wasn't supposed to get attached.

He was supposed to be loyal to him alone.

And yet-there it was. That unnatural fondness, that silent understanding forming between them.

Harley didn't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued.

Yazmina was an enigma. She was cold, detached, unshaken by horrors that would break most. She should have recoiled from Yarnaby. She should have kept her distance, regarded him as nothing more than another of Playtime Co.'s grotesque creations.

But instead?

She touched him. Freely. Casually.

She let her fingers weave through his tangled yarn mane, not in fear, not in hesitation-but with familiarity.

And Yarnaby let her.

Now Harley's conflicted if it's the right decision for her to come here.

----

Yazmina stood at the entrance of Playcare, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. The artificial cheerfulness still clung to the air, the bright colors and childish decorations masking the horrors hidden beneath.

Nothing had changed.

And yet-everything had.

The children were different today. Excited. Too excited. Their laughter held an edge of something unfamiliar, their movements brimming with an energy she hadn't seen in a long time.

Yazmina's eyes narrowed.

They had a new playmate.

She didn't need to guess. She already knew.

Then, she saw it.

The long, emaciated feline figure moved among the children with unsettling grace, its loosely stitched limbs bending unnaturally. Purple fur shifted with each step, the exposed outline of its ribcage and spine visible beneath its frail-looking torso.

Its hollow, gaping mouth-void of teeth, void of anything-never moved. Never twitched. It just remained open. Watching.

CatNap.

And yet, the children weren't afraid.

A little girl ran up to it, tiny fingers grazing the gold crescent moon pendant on the black zipper lining its chest. "You're so soft!" she giggled.

CatNap cocked its head.

A boy grabbed its oversized paw. "Wanna play hide and seek?"

For a long moment, the creature was still.

Then, its stitched limbs moved, lowering it onto all fours in a slow, deliberate motion. The children squealed in delight and scattered.

CatNap let them run.

Then, it followed.

Not hungrily.

Not quickly.

But it followed.

Yazmina's fingers twitched at her sides.

She already knew who was inside this.

Theo.

Of course, it was him.

The child who should have never survived this long. The one who had outlived so many others, slipping through the cracks of Playtime Co.'s endless cycle of consumption.

But he hadn't just survived.

He had adapted.

He had found his place here, not as prey-but as something more.

Something Playcare accepted.

Yazmina exhaled slowly.

Her gaze locked onto CatNap's silent, abyssal maw as it continued following the children, its stitched body moving with slow, unsettling precision.

This wasn't just a new playmate.

This was a message.

Yazmina remained still, watching as CatNap moved with eerie fluidity through the room. The children continued their game, their laughter ringing out in sharp contrast to the quiet horror curling in her gut.

Then, it happened.

A flicker. A pause.

CatNap's elongated limbs stilled for a fraction too long, its stitched frame no longer moving in pursuit of the children.

Its hollow, abyssal maw remained fixed in place.

But its eyes-those unnatural white irises with black pupils-shifted.

Right to her.

Yazmina felt it before she fully processed it.

Recognition.

Even through the grotesque, malformed figure, through the stitched joints and inhuman proportions, something inside that thing knew her.

For the briefest moment, the Playcare facility around her faded into the background.

It was just her.

And Theo.

Yazmina didn't move.

Neither did CatNap.

The children were still running, laughing, playing. Unaware. Unbothered.

But CatNap was no longer playing.

A slow shift rippled through its posture, something deep and unreadable in its expression-if it could even be called that.

A ghost of something familiar.

Something human.

Yazmina held her ground, her sharp gaze locked onto CatNap.

She didn't know if Theo would recognize her.

Before, he would've run to her without hesitation. Clung to her arm, tugged at her sleeve, called her name like she was the only solid thing in his world.

But now?

Now, he was something else entirely.

CatNap remained still, his elongated limbs unnaturally loose at the joints, as if waiting. His abyssal maw was frozen in its permanent, unreadable expression, and yet... Yazmina swore she could feel something behind those strange, white-rimmed eyes.

A flicker of something buried beneath the Bigger Bodies transformation.

The part of him that was still Theo.

Or was she just imagining it?

For a moment, it felt like the room had shrunk, the laughter of the other children nothing more than distant noise.

Then, CatNap twitched.

A subtle movement-his head tilting, his body shifting slightly in her direction. Not fully. Not obviously.

But enough.

Yazmina felt her pulse in her ears.

Still, she gave nothing away.

If he recognized her-if any part of Theo was still in there-she would find out soon enough.

But for now, she simply turned and walked away.

Yazmina didn't look back.

She could still feel CatNap's gaze burning into her, watching her every step as she left Playcare's main room.

Her hands clenched at her sides as she walked down the hallway, the fluorescent lights above humming softly. The artificial cheerfulness of Playcare faded behind her, replaced with the cold sterility of the facility's lower levels.

Dr. Greyber was waiting for her.