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MICHAEL RECOILS LIKE HE’S BEEN STABBED. ACTUALLY, THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN KINDER: instead, buzzing fills his ears, loud and insistent static trying to block out the rabbit’s words. You can piss it off, a part of him whispers encouragingly, if you can do that, you can destroy it too. It’s nice thinking, but Michael — Mike — is busy shoving uselessly at the mounting horror in his chest to pay it much attention. As long as you are alive, he will come back. That can’t be true. And yet his eyes fix on the glitch, and its stupid, stupid grin tells him that it’s not lying.
Fuck.
“ Kept him trapped, though, didn’t I? It was pretty cathartic, watching him run back and forth in that old building looking for a kid that didn’t exist. ” He barely has the ability to force the words out, and they emerge from his scarred throat tired and gritty, but there’s a tone of derision in his voice too. Mike has no respect for what his father has become. None whatsoever. And he sees him as especially pathetic here. “ Sure, so maybe I didn’t kill him. But even if he comes back — if I don’t manage to stop you first — it’s not really him. ” The weary smile is only slightly bittersweet. “ You wouldn’t get it, ” he adds, “ ‘cause he made you. But the real William Afton has been dead since he died in that fucking rabbit suit, and everything else is a pathetic copy. I mean, look at you. ”
( Growing in energy and strength, Mike’s gaze fixes on the rabbit and finds itself disgusted. Contemptuous. Almost pitying. )
( Does his best to hide the lingering fear that maybe he’s exactly the tool Glitchtrap needs to save his father. Because there will always be some version of his father living inside his bones, and every day Mike is terrified someone realizes that. )
“ You’re a copy, and a shitty one at that. The thing you’ll bring back won’t be anything more than a weed in a garden. Do yourself a favor — do him a favor. Destroy yourself and let him rot in hell. ” Mike steps in, jaw clenching automatically at his own action. “ No amount of effort will bring back the man that created you. Only another piss - poor mimicry of him. ”
@bitterborne from ☆
The virus lets out a laugh -- grating as it becomes filled with static, its own form seeming to glitch out of reality as it does so. Glitchtrap had been programed to be loyal, crafted from a piece of its creator's soul. It knows no loyalty but to William Afton. Not to some company that tries to steal its creator's achievements ; not to the children of its creator. Loyal to a terrifying degree. If it cannot find a proper shell -- if it cannot find its creator's old body -- then it will find a fitting vessel. . . “I only listen to him. You may look similar, ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ, but you are not him.” The remark about the child still standing when the father is dead, does get the virus angry -- so much like its creator. The rabbit suit tears in some spots, bits of inky blackness seeping out. Little rabbit-like faces that disappear as quickly as they appear out of the shadows. Then, in the blink of an eye, Glitchtrap returns to its unnervingly calm state, that grin ever wide. “Every part of him? You didn't ki-- [ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ ; ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʀᴇꜰᴇʀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ ]. Your hand did not do the deed,” it tilts its head to the side, never shifting its focus away -- dead set on the miniature version of its creator, “Haven't you thought about it deeper, little spawn of his? -- if you are capable of such a thing~” A snicker, “You are still here, just like me, and you're not the only one who can see me either~ oh no no no~” The virus has been busying itself, finding new followers, new puppets to play with. It has started to infect others, to remove the possibility of failure. It knows all about the plans ; It is the failsafe, the method to find its creator and bring him back. It is as eternal as technology. As long as it survives, William Afton will return. “As long as you are alive, ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.”