The afternoon sunlight crept lazily through Harry's window, pooling in uneven patches across the floor. The faint hum of a lawnmower somewhere down the street was the only sound.
Harry sat near his bed, surrounded by the quiet mess he'd made — bits of broken toys, a cracked alarm clock, loose wires, and screws lined up neatly beside him. He worked carefully, using a small screwdriver to pry open another old gadget.
Every click of metal and scrape of wire felt… right. He wasn't sure why, but it made sense in a way words couldn't.
He didn't have a plan written down. He just followed the feeling in his hands — the same one that had lingered since the dream. The one that whispered about building.
By the time the sky outside had dimmed to gold, Harry had built a small collection of parts. Wires curled like vines across the carpet, a few dull metal plates leaned against the bed, and the radio's insides lay scattered beside a half-taken-apart toy robot.
He sat back and looked at everything. The room was quiet except for the faint tick of the clock.
"Now what?" he murmured softly. The question stayed with him long after the sun went down. That night, sleep came quickly.
When Harry opened his eyes again, he was back in that strange, dreamlike version of his room — the air still, shadows too long. The white X marked the same spot on the floor.
And there, sitting on it, was the little yellow-green animatronic. Its head jerked up the moment Harry appeared, eyes flickering on with a burst of bright, playful light.
"Hey! You're back!" the animatronic said, its voice high and energetic, buzzing like a broken speaker but oddly cheerful. "Took you long enough! I was bored out of my mind!"
Harry blinked, startled by the sudden energy. "…You can talk."
"Of course I can talk!" the animatronic said, hopping down from the chair. It was smaller than he remembered — maybe two feet tall — and it moved with quick, jerky excitement. "Name's Plushtrap! You remembered me, right? Oh, you did! I knew you would!"
Harry took a cautious step back, though curiosity flickered behind his quiet expression. "Plushtrap," he repeated.
"Yup!" The little creature tilted its head, metal ears twitching. "You've been busy, huh? I can feel it. The wires, the metal, the bits and pieces—oh, it's gonna be so good!"
Harry frowned slightly. "You mean the things I was building?" Plushtrap nodded, practically bouncing in place. "Uh-huh! You're close! Real close! Just one thing missing, that's all! Then I can come play for real!"
Harry's grip on his sleeve tightened slightly. "What's missing?"
Plushtrap froze, then slowly grinned — a wide, too-sharp smile. Its eyes glowed faintly brighter. "The fun part," it said, voice lowering to a whisper, though still playful.
Harry waited.
"You need Remnant!" Plushtrap declared proudly, spinning in a small circle as if showing off a secret. "It's like . . . the heart of everything that lives forever! A soul that's been melted down — all the memories and feelings gone poof! — and what's left keeps things alive!"
Harry stared at it, not speaking. The words sank into the quiet air between them like drops of oil into water.
Plushtrap tilted its head again, grin never fading. "Find that, and I can cross over! Then we can build things together! Oh, it'll be so much fun!"
The world around them began to blur, the shadows stretching once more. "Don't forget, Harry!" Plushtrap called, voice echoing with static and laughter as the dream faded away. "I'll be waiting!"
When Harry woke up, dawn light pressed faintly against the curtains. His eyes drifted toward the pile of parts on the floor — the same pieces he'd gathered before sleep. And though everything was still, he could almost feel something faint and warm thrumming through the metal.
Like it was listening.