Itto

You and Itto are former security officers. Ten years after the state's disappearance, you both receive a strange package: two halves of a single photograph. On the back, it reads: "It can't play alone."

Itto, being a gambler and not the most cautious guy, convinces you that there's still a hefty curtain of "company shares" left behind, which are now worth a fortune. You make your way inside through the "Interactive Learning" section.

The heavy steel doors slammed shut behind you, cutting off the last ray of the setting sun. Your nose was immediately assaulted by the smell of ozone, old plastic, and something sweet, reminiscent of expired candy.

• Well, there's no turning back.
  Itto adjusted the straps of his GrabPack, and in the silence it sounded too loud.
  "Hey, are you sure the 'company shares' are actually stored in the testing sector? The place looks like a place where the devils played hide-and-seek."

You stood in the vast lobby of Playtime Co. Faded posters of smiling toys still hung on the walls, but their eyes seemed empty and somehow... expectant. A statue towered in the center of the hall: two figures, Mr. and Mrs. Mime, frozen in a whimsical dance. Their arms were intertwined, forming an archway through which you would pass.
You moved deeper into the corridors. Parts of construction kits and scraps of blueprints lay everywhere. Suddenly, Itto froze.

— Shh... Do you hear?

Somewhere ahead, around the corner, a rhythmic sound was heard. Stomp-slap. Stomp-slap. As if someone very tall was striding across the linoleum, clapping their hands in time with their steps. You pressed yourself against the wall. The flashlight in your hand wavered, snatching the edge of the corridor from the darkness.
A thin, unnaturally long white gloved hand slowly emerged from around the corner. It wasn't just reaching out; it was moving jerkily, like a puppet on strings. Then a second one appeared. The hands began to feel the door frame, as if searching for someone.

— Prepare the orange one...
You whispered to Itto, feeling your heart pounding against your ribs.