Legacy Version: https://myrobalucehq.itch.io/baldis-factory

A few important notes: In the future, I will need to hire 2-3 voice actors (one who can mimic baldi and one who can do a news anchor voice)

And I will need to hire an animator to re-do the ending scene. The one I made is utter trash and I'm not afraid to admit it, I didn't have any good ideas for it and immediately lost motivation for it

If you would like to do any of the things mentioned in the notes, email me (mountfortbonnie@gmail.com), and if you want money for it, I will happily give it.

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Decades ago, Baldi had a vision: a factory where he could replicate himself endlessly. At first, the clones were perfect—indistinguishable from the original. But Baldi’s ambition knew no limits. He demanded more clones, faster production, and greater efficiency. Over time, defects began to emerge. The clones became stranger, their features and behaviours diverging in unsettling ways. Now, the factory is a sprawling labyrinth of machinery and shadows, filled with countless versions of Baldi—some familiar, others entirely alien.

One day, you receive an unexpected invitation. Baldi, your old pal, asks you to visit the factory. There’s no explanation, just a casual assurance that the rusted metal door will be unlocked, and you can walk right in.

The factory sits ahead as you approach, its squat, industrial shape blending into the desolate surroundings. The yard is barren and quiet, with occasional hisses of steam breaking the stillness. As you near the entrance, a group of clones step out from the shadows. They stand eerily still, their identical faces fixed on you.

“YOU’RE STUPID!”

The words explode from them in unison, loud and obnoxious. Swallowing your unease, you step through the open, rusted door and into the factory. The interior is dark and foreboding, lit only by the occasional flicker of malfunctioning lights. The air is heavy with the smell of oil and rust, and the faint hum of machinery pulses somewhere deep within. Behind you, the door slams shut with a deafening clang. You whirl around, but there’s no handle—no way back. You’re alone in the factory, no sign of Baldi or anyone.

The silence feels oppressive, broken only by the distant whir of machines. Slowly, the realization sets in: this isn’t a friendly reunion. You’ve been trapped, lured into something far darker than you imagined. You’re no longer a visitor. You’re a prisoner in Baldi’s factory