But when she pulled the lever, the lights didn’t die.

“The gas production chamber. Flood it. It’s the only way to stop him.”

Then the door burst open.

Not just abandoned-wrong, like the rest of the factory, but watching -wrong. DogDay had warned them, back in the chapel, his voice cracking like old paint. “The prototype sees everything. And CatNap… CatNap is his prophet.”

Ollie’s voice, barely a whisper: “Chapter 4. He’s awake now. And he wants to play hide-and-seek.”

He didn’t chase.

She dodged, grabbing a discarded GrabPack hand—the orange one, the one with the shock charge. She jammed it into his chest as he pinned her down, his face inches from hers. The third eye wept red smoke directly into her mask.

the intercom whispered. CatNap’s voice—low, syrupy, patient. “The sleeping ones are always good.”

He just tilted his head, claws scraping the floor, and whispered,

And CatNap was already there, perched on the control panel like a gargoyle, his shadow swallowing the room.