Prompto woke slowly to the feeling of something soft and wet pressing against his bottom lip. Opening his eyes, he lifted his head and saw Ardyn standing before him, his fingers moistening Prompto’s dry, cracked lips. He jerked his head back, and Ardyn lowered his arm with a small smile. The chancellor picked up a water bottle from a table next to him and held it to Prompto’s lips. Prompto tried to turn his face away, but the water tasted so good! His traitorous tongue flicked out and licked his lips and Ardyn chuckled even as the man tipped the water bottle again so he could drink more.

  “I used to be a healer, you know. A long, long time ago.” Ardyn spoke softly and Prompto stared. Was he… actually making conversation? “I would travel the world, much like your precious Oracle, and heal the sick and the dying.” Prompto shook his head slowly. Ardyn, seeing it, smiled, though the expression didn't meet his eyes. “Don't believe me? I could heal you now, if I wished it.” His voice was slow, purring, like a cat trying to lull him into a false sense of security.

  Prompto shook his head again. “I wouldn't want it,” he croaked out.

  The pain struck him so suddenly he thought it was the Y-Frame again, but as his cheek throbbed and no further pain came, realised Ardyn had backhanded him. Blood began to fill his mouth from where he had cut his cheek on his teeth, and he spat it off to the side. He was tempted to spit it in Ardyn’s face, but he was afraid of what that might provoke the man to do.

  “You will,” Ardyn replied pleasantly, and though his voice was calm, there was a baked fury in his eyes that made Prompto’s heart race. “For now, though.” He reached behind Prompto, releasing some kind of latch, and the restraints holding Prompto’s arms let go. His arms fell down, dead weight, and Prompto gritted his teeth as the blood rushed back into them. It hurt, gods it hurt, more than he remembered from last time. Carefully, he willed his fingers to move, to touch the tips of each finger, to test his movement and sensation.

  He was so focused on regaining feeling in his hands that he didn’t notice what Ardyn was doing. He had a cylinder of something and attached a plastic tube and breathing mask to it. “I noticed you seem to have lost your armour,” Ardyn drawled. “Allow me to help you with that.” Cylinder on the ground, Ardyn held the mask with one hand and gripped Prompto’s hair with the other so he couldn’t pull away. “Night night, C1094,” he said as he held the mask over Prompto’s nose and mouth.

  -l-l-l-

  “What now,” Gladio groaned as they regained their feet. Yet another explosion had rocked the train right after it stopped and all of them were getting tired of it.

  Biggs’s voice came over the intercom. “City’s trying to keep us out… with the daemons.”

  “Woah!” Noct exclaimed as one said daemon jumped at the cracked glass of the car they were in.

  “Gotta run! Don’t worry about us,” Biggs said.

  Noct shook his head at that; they really were a pair. The smile was quickly wiped from his face though when a snaga actually jumped through the window, showering glass everywhere. “Right,” he said, stepping forward. “Let’s get to work.” He made to summon his sword, but frowned, staring at his hand when it didn’t materialize. It felt like back when he was first learning to access the armiger and it didn’t always obey his wishes. But he had long since mastered that skill.

  “What’s wrong?” Gladio asked, seeing Noct’s reaction.

  “The weapons… they’re stuck!” Noctis said.

  He saw both Ignis and Gladio try to access their own weapons with no success, and then his shoulder was grabbed and shoved as Gladio leapt forwards, slamming feet first at a snaga that tried to attack while Noct’s back was turned.

  “That was badass!” Noct exclaimed and, though he did smile, Gladio didn’t comment on that.

  “Run!” Ignis said and turned, waiting for Noct to take the lead.

  Running through the carriages was reminiscent of when Noct had done so with who he had assumed was Prompto. He scowled, remembering how Ardyn had played him, how Ardyn was still playing him.

  Dodging daemons, they ran towards the back of the train, not really knowing what else to do other than don’t get killed.

  “Only a matter of time before we run out of room to run!” Ignis said from behind Noct.

  “Got a better idea?” Noctis asked, not having any himself.

  “We trade the train for the Regalia,” Ignis said.

  Noctis grinned. “Great idea, Iggy.” And, with a purpose in mind, they made good time dodging and punching the lesser daemons that tried to bother them until they made it to the freight car. “Gladio, get the door.”

  “On it,” the man said while Noct and Iggy got in the car.

  Once the doors were open and Gladio had climbed in, Noct mockingly said, “Strap in.” He caught the eye roll Gladio gave him in the rear-view mirror.

  “Gun it!” Gladio said instead. And Noctis did.

  Were he not so panicked about getting them all safely to the keep, he might have loved the thrill this was giving him; finally he was able to push the Regalia as fast as she could go, dodging and swerving, without Iggy telling him in a terrified voice to slow down and please do the speed limit. Would have been better without the life-threatening missiles flying at them, of course.

  The tunnel lights made for a dizzying effect, much like going ‘warp speed’ on his video games. And then they shot out of it and Noct yanked on the wheel, only narrowly missing a tanker just sitting half across the tracks.

  “What the hell,” Noct muttered as he quickly dodged another car abandoned across the tracks.

  “What is it?” Ignis asked tersely. Noctis knew he didn’t particularly like being in the passenger seat with Noct driving at the best of times, and blind, outrunning demons with no weapons and on a train track definitely didn’t count as the ‘best of times’.

  “There’s just… vehicles everywhere. And no people. The lights are on in the buildings, but there’s no traffic. It looks like one of my dystopian games, it- woah!” he cut off as an explosion got a little too close.

  “What was that?!” Ignis demanded.

  “They’re trying to blow us off the tracks!” Noct said.

  “One clean hit and it’s over!” Gladio said, a touch of panic in his voice. Noct carefully filed that thought away to mock the older man with later, when things weren’t actually so dire.

  “It’ll take a bit more than that to stop his majesty’s trusty steed,” Ignis said, more confidently than Noctis currently felt.

  “Shit!” Noct swore as he felt the wheel jerk to the left when he didn’t quite dodge a missile fast enough.

  “The Regalia can take the punishment. Just focus on your driving Noct,” Ignis said, encouraging.

  “You can do it, girl. You can get through this,” Noct said softly.

  Up ahead, they could see the gates to the main part of the city. They were sliding closed, ready to bar entrance.

  “It’s closing! Floor it!” Gladio shouted.

  Not that Noct needed the encouragement. Foot flat to the ground, they flew through the gates, but then he was forced to slam on the brakes to avoid crashing into a jackknifed train. The car spun out and skidded to a stop and, for a moment, Noct just sat there, heart hammering in his chest. The engine light was flashing on the dash and steam began to curl out from under the bonnet. Even if there was room to take her further, this was as far as she could go.

  “That’s all she’s got,” Gladio said, echoing his thoughts.

  “It’ll do,” Ignis replied.

  Slowly, they all got out of the car. Noct turned back to look at her. There was barely a single area that was undamaged from their latest stunt. The purple paint was scratched and dented, all the windows had cracks. His dad’s car. It was strange. After Insomnia had fallen and his dad was reported dead, he still felt as though he were there with them. This was his car. They travelled Eos in this car, and in a sense, they travelled Eos with his dad. Oh, he had his dad’s ring now, but the responsibility that came with it, the cost, that wasn’t his dad. That was his responsibility, his duty. The Regalia, to Noctis, represented his dad as his dad; father, family man, someone who wanted to spend all his spare time with his son, even if that wasn’t a lot. His dad was who he could turn to and just talk, as father and son, without being reminded of what was right and proper, and they had often done so in this very car to be away from listening ears.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  And now the Regalia lay smoking, destroyed. It felt like an omen of things to come.

  “Dad…” Noct said, his voice breaking a little. “Thanks for everything.”

  And then he turned his back on the Regalia and walked away, Ignis and Gladio following silently behind.

  With the train up ahead blocking the way, they needed to find a way around it, to get further into the city and to Zegnautus Keep.

  “Are we seriously marching into the enemy capitol empty handed?” Gladio asked.

  “And with no assurances that the crystal can beat back the daemon hordes,” Ignis added helpfully.

  Noct stooped and picked up a broken pipe and handed it to Gladio. “There. Not weaponless now.”

  “Very funny,” he said, but he kept hold of it, nonetheless.

  They approached the train car that had blocked their path and saw that it was actually partially suspended. It was tight, but they could fit. “Let’s go through here.”

  “This thing could come down at any time…” Gladio said, eying it warily.

  “Then let’s be quick,” Ignis said.

  “C’mon,” Noct said, ducking under and leading the way.

  A metallic groan was the first sign that this wasn’t going to end well and Noctis darted forwards even as Gladio jumped back, pulling Ignis with him. Right as the car crashed to the ground.

  “Hey!” Noct shouted. “Ignis! Gladio!”

  “We’re okay!” he heard Ignis call back.

  “Wait there. We’ll find another way around!” Gladio shouted.

  Noctis glanced up at Zegnautus Keep, towering above them, remembered hearing Prompto’s scream, then shook his head. “You know where I’m going, catch up!”

  “Noct, no!” Ignis said.

  Noctis ignored him and jogged towards the keep. He couldn’t leave Prompto alone in there any longer than he had to.

  -l-l-l-

  “Remember.”

  A whirr and a plonk sounds as Noct casts his fishing line into the pond they had stumbled upon. His face is relaxed, and he wears a small contented smile as he slowly winds the reel and Prompto lifts his camera, taking a snap. It was a good photo, but not perfect. He waits, hoping to get the chance at a better one. Noct doesn’t even notice.

  Pain, agony as something drilled into his spine. He screamed.

  “C1094, control yourself.” A voice of authority, harsh, commanding. He clenched his teeth, but could feel himself slipping.

  “Remember.”

  Noct slips a hand into Prompto’s vambrace and flexes his fist, feeling the sensors and wires responding to the movement. “Woah, cool.”

  Prompto grins. He holds out the newly repaired chest piece. “Here, try this bit. It has impact dampeners, probably what stopped my chest from being crushed by that asherhorn.”

  “What, for real? Awesome! Lemme try!”

  With both chest and back pieces worn, Noct lightly throws himself backwards to land on the haven’s ground. “Ha! I barely felt a thing.”

  “That’s kind of the idea,” Prompto says.

  Noct pulls himself to his feet and summons a dagger, throwing it up into a tree and warping up there to hang.

  “Noct, what are you doing?” Ignis’s voice came from where he was cooking dinner a few feet away.

  “Experimenting!” Noct calls from where he was hanging, before he lets go, the dagger disappearing back into the ether and the prince falling back down to earth.

  “Noct!” Ignis shouts in alarm, and even Gladio starts to jog over from where he had been setting up the tent.

  Noct lay on his back, gasping to get his breath back, blinking up at the sky. “Ow…” he groans. The three of them stand over him, looking down at him, Prompto barely managing to hide a giggle. “I thought you said this thing stops impacts,” he accuses Prompto even as he accepts a hand up and the other two walk off, convinced now that he was fine.

  “I said impact dampeners. Not I’m-not-gonna-feel-a-thing-after-falling… things,” Prompto says with a laugh.

  Dark blood, daemon blood, roared along his veins. It burns, and he’s angry, furious. He wants to kill.

  No!

  He wants to eat.

  No, better! He wants to kill and then eat!

  Snarling.

  “Remember.”

  Prompto peers over the camp table, watching Ignis with his eyes level to the tabletop. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks when he sees Ignis noticing him.

  “You know full well what I’m doing,” Ignis replies, but he couldn’t help himself. “I’m cooking you all dinner.”

  “Well, yeah,” Prompto says as he leans his chin on his arm, resting both on the table, “but what specifically like?”

  Ignis pauses in dicing the onion and looks at the gunman. “Prompto, tell me what it is you want,” he says, his voice weary.

  “I want…” a blink. “I want another go. To help make dinner.”

  Ignis slowly makes another cut, then pauses again. “Are you sure?” he says slowly.

  Prompto nods eagerly.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” Ignis mutters. Louder, he says, “Very well. Come over this side of the table.”

  Grinning, eager, Prompto leaps up and hurries around to help. Despite doing everything Ignis told him to (at least he thought so) he still manages to burn the onions. And the peppers. And the meat. And even the oil.

  “Iggy, do me a favour,” Gladio says as he forces himself to swallow another morsel of half burned, half raw food. “Don’t let Prompto cook again, no matter how much he begs.”

  Wires under the skin, through his veins, along his nerves.

  He moved, and the armour moved.

  The armour was him.

  He was the armour.

  He didn’t know which was true anymore.

  He stood to the side of his cell. Waiting. He no longer needed to be restrained. He waited. For orders.

  “Remember,” that voice said again. He did.

  Prompto stares at Noct the first time he saw him obtain an astral weapon. He looks at both Ignis and Gladio but, apart from being dirty and tired from the trek up here, they don’t seem alarmed by what they had just seen.

  “Dude… does it hurt?” he asks Noct as he turns back to them. “You know, being stabbed by a ghostly sword and all.”

  Noct rose an eyebrow. “You saw me do it at the meteor,” he says, confused.

  Prompto shakes his head, but it is Ignis who answers. “I turned him away from that,” he says. “At the time, we weren’t completely sure it would be wise to let a soldier from Niflheim see it.”

  “Oh,” Noct says. “Well, yeah, I guess, a little,” Noct answers Prompto. “It’s only for a moment, though. It’s more like…” he pauses, searching for the right word. “Shock of it entering, of it being added. It’s hard to describe.”

  “C1094. Destroy those units.”

  C1094 didn’t have a gun. He didn’t need it. He knew this arena like he knew little else and he knew that the three units standing staring before him were no competition. This was a test, to see if he could obey orders without thought.

  He could.

  He charged.

  “Remember,” the woman’s voice spoke again.

  C1094 chose not to.

  Reaching one of the units, he grabbed its head and twisted sharply. The neck snapped with an audible crunch and it crumpled to the ground. That unit was useless.

  Another tried to attack him from behind, but C1094 expected it, swung his arm out, the blade attached to the back of his vambrace catching its neck, slicing it open, spraying hot blood. He licked his lips and grinned. Euphoria rushed through his veins. Someone was laughing gleefully.

  The remaining unit was cowering from him, trying to scuttle away. Defective.

  C1094 stalked forward but was halted when a golden light formed in front of him, blocking his path.

  “Prompto, stop this,” she said. With both hands, she reached out to cup his face. “This isn’t you, Prompto. Noctis didn’t betray you, remember that. And remember your friends, they believe in you.”

  Prompto. That name was familiar. As was the golden woman before him, though she was more light than person.

  “C1094! What are you doing? Attack!”

  He blinked. She was gone.

  He attacked.

  -l-l-l-

  As much as he hated relying on it, Noctis had to admit his father’s ring had some serious firepower. And it was a good thing too; between the daemons, Ardyn’s tricks, and the maze that was Zegnautus, he needed all the help he could get. In hindsight, rushing off without waiting for Ignis and Gladio was probably not one of his best ideas, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Ardyn torturing Prompto while he just stood around and waited. Besides, if they split up, there was a better chance of finding him.

  The Keep, for the most part, was devoid of any people, at least none that he had seen. MTs, sure, daemons, most definitely, but people? None. It was creepy. Prompto had said that there were probably over a hundred magitek soldiers when he had lived here. But now there was none. Aranea had warned them as much, but it didn’t compare to seeing the reality.

  Moving along a random corridor, Noct made sure to check every room. The rooms in this wing seemed to alternate: one was some kind of monitoring station, with computers and desks set up, and the next was a bedroom. Though perhaps cell would be more appropriate considering how bare and small all the rooms were.

  Approaching one of the computers in a monitoring room, Noct turned it on and, with only a little apprehension, began looking through the files on it. Most he couldn’t understand—they were talking about brain function and chemical levels of various subjects. He tried searching for “Prompto” but came up with no results.

  What was that unit number Prompto had said he was called? C1094, that was it. He did a search for that and a few files popped up. Like the rest, they were full of jargon, but they did include what looked like security footage. Noct held his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating. The date on all of them was old, before Prompto had joined them. Did he really want to look?

  Just one, he decided. It might help, it might give him some indication of what his friend had gone through, provide some way he could help him. He clicked on the most recent one.

  The video showed two screens, one obviously displaying some kind of medical readout, something that looked like a heart monitor or brain wave print out. The other was security footage showing a boy wearing the same long grey underthings that Prompto had worn under his armour, standing in the centre of the room, hands clasped behind his back. His head was shaved and, were it not for the fact that the filename contained Prompto’s unit number, he would never have guessed this was his friend; he couldn’t imagine Prompto without his signature chocobo butt hair. There were wires attached to his head and, though it was hard to tell from the angle of the video, it looked as though they actually went under his skin. They disappeared into the wall. The layout of the rooms made sense now; one room as a cell for the ‘soldiers’, one attached to it to monitor them.

  Noctis watched, a frown on his lips. He was just… standing there. Nothing was happening. The brain wave lines (if that’s what they were) were steady, barely moving at all. He was about to close the video when he saw it. Prompto’s body seemed to jerk, and he fell to his knees. The brain wave readout spiked, then went still again. He knelt there for a few seconds, then his body convulsed again and he fell to the ground, curled up at first and then arching back. It took longer for the lines to become steady again this time. When it stopped, the younger Prompto crawled over to the toilet in the corner and threw up, then pulled himself back to standing in the centre of the room again, hands once more clasped behind his back.

  Noctis scowled and closed the video; he had seen enough. It was no wonder Prompto didn’t like to talk about how they controlled his thoughts when this was what they did. He just had to find him before Ardyn undid all the progress Prompto had made in undoing it.

  There were two more room sets that Noctis checked until he came to the last one. He was about to keep walking when he caught something different out of the corner of his eye. The cell room was empty and showed no sign of habitation, but there was something under the bed. Ducking down, Noct felt his heart race when he saw it.

  Prompto’s camera.

  Noctis grabbed it and sat on the bed, turning it over in his hands. It was smashed beyond repair and, when he tried to turn it on, the low battery icon flashed twice before it turned off again. He had to pull the camera apart to get at the memory card, but he succeeded and thankfully the card itself seemed undamaged.

  Putting the broken camera aside, Noctis stood and slipped the memory card into his pocket. As soon as he could access his armiger again, he would make sure it was safe. “Hold on, Prompto. I’m coming.”