Chapter Text
Prompto helps Ignis cook up enough food to feed all the Glaive assembled here and they gather round gratefully as Ignis dishes up bowls of rich stew.
Noct disappears with Cor for a while, which makes sense. They’ve probably got a lot to talk about after all this time.
He checks in with Delilah and then sends her off to bed when it looks like she’s about to just straight pass out on him where they stand.
Prompto’s helping clean some guns when Noct finds him again. He’s holding a bowl of Iggy’s stew and he leans up against the work station, close to Prompto but not so close it would look odd from an outside observer.
“Cor gave me a key for all the underpasses. So we’ll be able to get around now, safer than if we had to go through the city,” Noct tells him. Prompto nods.
“He also wanted to borrow you to clear out a Niff base but I said we’d all go or none at all,” Noct says nonchalantly.
“You can stay here and rest,” Prompto says, “I’ll go with Cor -”
“No,” Noct interrupts, “You’re not going anywhere without me while you don’t have to. We should all stick together.”
Prompto smiles, a reluctant little tick of his cheek, “You’re right. It’ll be a cakewalk with the four of us anyway.”
“That’s the plan,” Noct says, “Gonna make this place as safe as I can before - y’know.”
Prompto’s smile dims but he tells Noct quietly, “Wanna kiss you.”
Noct winks, “Later.”
-
The Glaive have crammed as many bunk bed as they could into the smaller rooms around the base, opting for as much privacy as possible Prompto supposes. They willingly clear out one with four beds for them, offering their King a private safe haven before the morning.
Of course neither Noct or Prompto climb into the top bunk of theirs, squishing together on the single mattress instead.
Prompto gets his kiss with Noct holding the blanket up behind them like a shield. Ignis and Gladio seem to be hanging around outside for a minute anyway, maybe just to give them this time alone.
“It’s really something,” Noct says, when they’re settled and Ignis and Gladio are getting ready for bed, “Seeing them all here. For me.”
“You were a source of hope for everyone,” Prompto says, bringing his hand up to cup Noct’s cheek, “I don’t think we’d have gotten through if we didn’t know you were coming back. I know I wouldn’t.”
Noct looks impossibly sad then, “Prom,” he croaks, “When I go again -”
“I’ll be fine,” Prompto tells him, “I promise. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Noct says and he tucks his face into Prompto’s throat, “I’m so sorry.”
- - -
They set out fairly early the next day, exiting through an underground gate that sets them much closer to the Citadel than Prompto was expecting.
“Fashionably late I see.”
In synchronisation they look upwards to see Ardyn waiting for them, perched up high on an old banner pole, the Lucis Caelum insignia hanging in tatters from the frame.
“Ardyn,” Noct seethes.
Ardyn spreads his arms wide, “Insomnia, the Crown City of my Kingdom. I bid you a warm welcome.”
He half bows, a mocking little move and then both of his hands are raised in the air a large swirling ball of magic appearing above him. It splinters apart and flies off in different directions dazzling them all.
“What the hell is he doing?” Gladio growls.
“I’ve prepared something special for you, Noctis,” Ardyn says and the casual use of Noct’s name sets Prompto’s blood boiling.
A veil of magic appears around the Citadel then, swirling and solidifying until it stands as a red transparent barrier between the Citadel and the rest of the world, visible and ethereal all at once, reminiscent, to Prompto, of King Regis’ magical wall around Insomnia.
“What?” Noct splutters.
“Yes, it’s the same Wall your father gave his life to sustain,” Ardyn tells him, voice falsely sweet, “I thought it might serve as a lovely reminder of your Daddy Dearest. Do you like it?” Ardyn laughs then, cackles like an unhinged maniac.
Prompto hates him.
Noct takes a step forward but Gladio fists the back of his raiment, holding him back.
“You’re sick,” Noct spits at the Chancellor.
Ardyn gasps, “How could you say that to your own flesh and blood!? I’ll try to find it in my heart to forgive you by the time you reach the Citadel. My little pet will greet you at the gates.”
Prompto still can’t fathom that Noct and Ardyn are related, distant - extremely distant - relations dating back to the founding of Lucis. They’re so different, in temperament and appearance but most importantly ideals. Prompto shudders to think what might have happened to Lucis under Ardyn's rule from day one.
They’re all so distracted by the sight of the barrier none of them pay attention to Ardyn until they realise that he’s gone, all but vanished with the wind.
“What did he mean?” Prompto asks, “His pet?”
“I don’t know,” Ignis says, sounding annoyed by the fact, “But I suggest we give the Citadel a wide berth until we’re ready to approach.”
“Let’s find Cor,” Noct decides, “One thing at a time.”
“Lead the way, Your Highness,” Ignis says.
-
They find Cor half way up a lookout tower, surveying an Imperial base that looks like it was deposited directly over a small park. Prompto had never considered the fact they would have deposited any of their flying fortresses actually in Insomnia and he feels kind of dumb for not ever thinking about it.
Maybe he should have come to Insomnia before? Helped out the Glaive here.
But the plan was always to return with Noct and anything else would have just felt wrong.
“’Bout time,” Cor says as they climb up to him, “Alongside their soldiers they have an MA Hoplomachus inside. It’s making it tricky to move past here but we can’t get into the base to take it down.”
“We can take care of it,” Noct promises.
“Well, I’m ready when you are,” Cor assures them, giving Prompto a look.
Prompto has to roll up the sleeve of his Kingsglaive jacket to bare his barcode to the scanner but the light passes over his tattoo without issue, a faint beep sounding half a second before the barrier drops.
“Lets move out boys,” Cor says quietly, “Prompto?”
“I’ve got this,” Prompto says, “I’ll get the weapons off the big guy before we start and you guys can focus on the troops.”
“What?” Noct says and he grabs Prompto’s jacket when he makes to move away from them, looking for something to climb, “You’re not going off alone.”
“Noct,” Prompto says, “I’ve got this. Trust me.”
Noct’s mouth works and then he nods, “Be careful,” he demands.
Prompto winks, “Careful is my middle name.”
“You don’t have a middle name,” Noct whispers after him as Prompto hurries off.
Prompto finds a stack of crates that lets him climb up on top of one of their little buildings and it gives him a clear view to where the -
The two MA Hoplomachus are positioned, either powered down or just stationary, a dozen or so MTs walking in patrol around them.
Prompto edges back along the roof, to a position where he can see his friends. Catching Cor’s eye he holds up two fingers, hoping to communicate the additional Magitek Armour.
Cor nods and he sees him bend down to inform the others - he hopes - and when Cor’s looking back up at him Prompto holds up a hand to indicate they should wait. Let Prompto reap some carnage before they all fly in to action.
Prompto makes his way back to the other end of the building and summons his bazooka, carefully setting it on his shoulder. Prompto hears just the faintest sounds of a scuffle behind him but judging from the way none of the Magitek react he’s the only one that does.
Sadly there’s no way to line up a shot and get both machines at once but thanks to Armiger magic he can fire almost endlessly without pause and he steadies himself, bracing his legs as steady as he can and starts to fire.
The bazooka gets harder to aim the longer he’s holding it, harder to adjust back on target than a sniper rifle but even so Prompto gets his first two shots off perfectly and while the first Hoplomachus doesn’t go down completely Prompto renders it almost harmless by blowing off both its ranged weapons. Trusting none of his friends run recklessly under its feet they shouldn’t have anything to worry about.
His third rocket hits the intended target but Prompto hits a little wide - or low as it were. Prompto takes out one of its legs and it tilts sideways but by the time Prompto’s gotten his next shot lined up it’s already back on its feet. Prompto manages to shoot off the magitek’s own rocket launcher but a flash of blue light on his periphery stops him from taking his next shot.
The infantry, he sees, have charged off towards his friends and Noct’s retaliation is to warp straight past them, aiming for the all but useless armour in a flurry of lance strikes.
Prompto won’t risk firing this weapon with his friends in range, not even a little, so he quickly swaps out for a rifle struggling - for just a second - to adjust to the lighter weight on his shoulder. It takes more than one shot with his rifle - even the Cerberus rifle - to dislodge a weapon from the machine and it must be more than three even as that’s how many Prompto gets off before it’s trained it’s weapon on him and he’s forced to roll himself off the roof to avoid an untimely death.
Prompto lands badly but he gets to his feet anyway, ignoring the pain in his wrist and knee and trying to think of a way to get the last weapon off before someone gets seriously hurt -
Noct leaps into the air, propelled by his lance, and while he’s still up there Ignis tosses him his lance too and Noct powers back towards the ground, crashing into the side of the Hoplomachus on the way and cleaving the weapon right off it. The machine starts to smoke, stumbling now it’s lopsided and a joint attack from Gladio and Cor’s giant swords are all it takes to bring it down for good.
Prompto drops his weapon and it vanishes into the ether before it hits the ground, allowing Prompto to cradle his hurt wrist into his chest.
Noct doesn’t seem to register this as he rushes at Prompto, just grabs him by the shoulders and pulls Prompto towards him so he can jam their mouths together. The kiss is the exact kind of possessive and aggressive that makes Prompto feel warm all over and he sinks into it, hooking his good arm over Noct’s shoulder and leaning into Noct’s body to take the weight off his bad knee.
It’s hard to really enjoy a kiss when you’re in low key pain, after all.
It doesn’t even occur to Prompto that they’re in a smouldering imperial base or that Cor is right there, just enjoys the affection for what it’s worth, kissing Noct back with everything he has and all the feelings he’s not sure he knows how to say.
“Alright, alright,” Gladio gruffs after an indeterminable amount of time, “Come on now.”
Noct pulls back and his expression tells Prompto that he too had kind of forgotten they were all there with them.
“You’re amazing,” Noct breathes, “Just so - wow.”
Prompto flushes but he’s more than a little pleased. And then he’s embarrassed because when he looks away, feeling a little bashful, he catches sight on Cor’s expression, mostly unreadable but with one of his eyebrows just a fraction higher than the other.
Cor turns to Ignis, “Was this relevant before you all left Insomnia? Or?”
“It developed during the journey, sir. Though, forgive me, I was under the impression you already knew,” Ignis says.
“Oh, I did,” Cor says casually, “I’m just wondering how late I worked out the information.”
Ignis tilts his head towards Prompto and Noct who share a guilty look and pull apart. Prompto stumbles a little, forgetting his injury and Noct reaches back to hold him again.
“Sorry, sir,” Prompto says.
Cor inches his eyebrow high and steps forward, summoning a potion to hand Prompto. Noct takes it for him and holds it close to Prompto’s injured arm as he breaks it over him. The relief is instantaneous and Prompto steps out of Noct’s hold to test weight on his knee.
“You’re sorry?” Cor checks.
“Not for this,” Prompto says gesturing between the two of them, “But for that specific behaviour that was ill advised and unprofessional,” he rattles out, feeling like he sounds dumb rather than logical but committed nonetheless.
“Not sure you’re really to blame, kid,” Gladio says, chuckling low.
Cor stays impossibly stoic for a full ten seconds, then he too laughs.
“As you were,” Cor says, “Back in fighting form?”
“Yes, sir,” Prompto chirps.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Cor tells them, “Don’t hesitate to call if you need assistance. The Glaive and I will try and keep an eye on things.”
“Thank you, Marshal,” Noct says seriously, offering Cor a respectful bow.
“Your Highness,” Cor says and he returns the sentiment twice over, pressing his fist to his chest in deference to his King.
When they can no longer hear Cor’s footsteps Noct touches Prompto arm and asks, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” Prompto promises, “All fixed up.”
Noct offers him a smile, already looking tired for the day.
The ring, Prompto imagines, takes more out of him than they could possibly ever know.
“Time to find out about Ardyn’s pet?” Prompto nudges.
Noct shakes his head, “I promised a Glaive I’d do something for them. Can I borrow your camera?”
-
From what Noct tells them it’s a record keeping task of sorts. Or a way to show Glaive members that never really spent time in Insomnia before the fall what they’re fighting so hard to save.
It’s cute though, watching Noct take the task so seriously, taking the pictures himself but checking with Prompto each time that the framing is good and it’ll convey what he needs.
They jog around Insomnia, to points Noct had marked on the map and although it takes them the rest of the day to find all the spots no one complains. Prompto gets a little sad when they pass his and Noct’s favourite arcade - crumbled to ruins.
Maybe he and Noct could have had their first date in that arcade if they’d managed to pull their heads out of their asses twelve years ago. It’s hard to remember what he was so afraid of back then. Certainly not anything actually important.
“Here,” Noct says handing the camera back, “Hand these in for me?”
Prompto gives him a wobbly smile, “Sure.”
Noct glances over his shoulder at the arcade and says, “Makes me sad.”
“You weren’t here for the day the King’s Knight servers went down. National day of mourning,” Prompto teases.
Noct laughs and it peters off into a yawn.
“I think we could all go for a rest,” Ignis points out.
“All the way back to the base then?” Prompto asks, honestly dreading the trek back. Just the sight of Noct’s yawn has him feeling bone tired.
“The Glaive have got safe spaces set up,” Gladio tells him, “Look around for metro entrances.”
They find one easily enough, a set of stairs leading downward and scrubbed oddly pristine, bright white and well lit. Noct strips out of his cape as soon as they’re in the little dormitory, hanging it off the end of one of the bunk beds.
“Iggy’s gonna set up the stove outside,” Gladio says, leaning in through the doorway, “I’ll stand with him.”
“Holler if you need us,” Noct says, unbuttoning his jacket.
Prompto watches the dark fabric slide off his shoulders with keen interest, admires the way Noct’s fitted shirt shows off the taper of his waist. Now is probably not the time to be getting all antsy, but what other time does Prompto have?
“I know you hate it,” Prompto says, voice oddly rough, “But you look amazing.”
Noct smirks over his shoulder at him, “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. I have a thing for capes,” Prompto teases, “Who knew?”
Noct turns and perches himself on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand for Prompto.
“C’mere,” Noct says. Prompto walks over and straddles himself across Noct’s knees, sitting back and trying to keep some semblance of distance between them.
“Better not let Gladio have to separate us again,” Prompto says coyly but he leans over the space between their bodies to kiss Noct anyway. Noct kisses him back, hands busy unbuttoning Prompto’s Kingsglaive jacket. Noct doesn’t push it off though, just smooths his hands around Prompto’s hips underneath it to press against the small of his back.
“Did I tell you how amazing you are?” Noct rumbles, kissing from Prompto’s mouth down to his throat.
“Might have - have mentioned it earlier,” Prompto says, gasping when Noct’s teeth press gently into the edge of collarbone revealed by Prompto’s shirt.
Noct hums happily. “Good,” he says and pulls back. Looking unbearably smug he pats Prompto on the butt.
“Wouldn’t want Gladio to catch us,” Noct explains.
Prompto clambers off of him grumbling. “I hate you,” he mumbles, not meaning it fro even a second.
Noct laughs.
-
Prompto and Noct squeeze themselves into a bunk together again and despite the fact he’s exhausted Prompto can’t sleep. He lies there watching Noct sleep, breath steady and face calm with sleep - he looks younger again - trying to memorise every minute detail about his face like he hasn't got it all locked away already.
They’re ending this tomorrow. He knows that.
This is the last time he’ll ever lay next to Noct in a bed.
Three days.
They got given three days.
It’s not enough.
But then three lifetimes wouldn’t have been enough.
Part of him wants to wake Noct up and sneak off somewhere. Find a quiet little private spot and be together one last time. Let Noct fuck him up against a wall or swap round and find out what it would be like to have Noct ride him.
Slow, he thinks, slow and intense and amazing and fantastic.
Noct looks so peaceful, slumbering away like he hasn’t a care in the world. His arms are tight around Prompto’s waist, almost clingy in his sleep and Prompto feels guilty that he’d thought of waking him. That some selfish part of Prompto had wanted to just take one little extra part of Noct for himself.
Prompto leans forward to press a kiss between Noct’s brows and Noct sighs, shifting impossibly closer.
Prompto puts his head down on the pillow and closes his eyes.
From here he can still hear Noct, the soft sound of his breathing.
This is enough.
It has to be.
Prompto doesn’t have any other choice.
- - -
It only takes them fifteen minutes to reach the Citadel the next day. Ignis carefully adjusts Noct’s cape before they head out, like this one last act of care is important to him. Noct stands still and allows his fussing, pressing a hand to Iggy’s shoulder and murmuring a quiet thank you when he’s done.
Prompto’s expecting some sort of giant daemon, of course.
What else could it be?
But -
This is something else.
Prompto likes dogs, the only animal he likes more is chocobos, but this one is not quite to his taste.
Three heads, covered in what looks like impenetrable plate armour and taller than Prompto’s childhood house had been.
Cerberus, he thinks, remembering a tale from his childhood, not quite forgotten. The three headed daemon dog that guards the gates of hell.
Noct steps slightly ahead of them, fists clenched and Prompto notices the ring aglow again, winking to life at the proximity of such a beast.
It looks like it’s sleeping but any hope of a sneak attack are thwarted when it gets to his feet while they’re still half a street away. Opening each of it’s huge terrible mouths one by one and revealing the rolling flame within.
“Must be his little pet,” Gladio says.
Ignis tilts his head, “We can only hope its bark is worse than its bite.”
Noct draws his favourite sword decisively, “Hope it’s ready - we bite back.”
It’s a mess.
A hot mess.
Literally.
Cerberus is impossible to get an angle on, as soon as one of them darts around a head swings after it and it shouldn't be possible that it’s always on them when they out number its heads but it is. It moves so fast, faster even than the winged behemoth Prompto fought in Niflheim, tail lashing behind it so even when you think you’re safe from it’s heads you’ve got something else to worry about.
Suddenly it jumps, and Prompto makes a grab for Ignis to makes sure he can pull him out of it’s landing zone but the dog stays up, climbing the concrete wall that surrounds the Citadel.
“Shit,” Noct says. He glances back at his friends and then throws his sword after the monster, disappearing in a crack of blue magic.
“Noct!” Prompto calls feeling suddenly useless.
“He needs to get it back down here,” Gladio gruffs out, sword still held ready.
Prompto calls forth a rifle and tries to take aim but every time he lines up a shot he sees a little flash of blue and there’s no way he trusts himself not to accidentally clip Noct instead.
“Can’t you get it?” Gladio asks. There's no judgement in his tone that Prompto can detect, just disbelief.
Prompto shakes his head, “Noct’s moving around too much. If I - I can’t -”
“It’s alright,” Ignis murmurs, “We just have to trust him.”
They climb so high it’s difficult to keep track of but Prompto sees the flair of Noct’s royal weapons swirling around him and he’s still up there so Prompto just has to follow Iggy’s advice and trust that Noct’s okay.
The dog roars from all three of its heads, a rush of flame, and then its falling.
Gladio drags Prompto and Ignis backwards but the dog lands well clear of them, halfway on it's back with its legs flailing as it tries to get back up.
“Did it stop moving?” Ignis asks.
“Sure did,” Gladio says, “Now we go to town!”
The three of them launch forward, joined seconds later by Noct, throwing everything they have at its flank. Prompto draws a second gun, unloading as many bullets as he can into the thrashing creature.
It seems to be working, it roars, obviously in pain and Gladio yells with effort as he wrenches his sword free from its flank.
The head nearest Prompto spews out a burst of fire onto the ground and Prompto rolls out of the way, tripping over his feet a little in his haste. By the time he’s back on his feet so is the daemon and Prompto has to dodge out of the way again when all three mouth open to spray fire out in an arc that has him and his friends meeting up in a huddle just out of it’s range.
“That’s one hell of a pet,” Gladio says, panting.
Feeling just on the edge of hysteria Prompto blurts, “Is it too late to ask Ardyn to call off his dog?”
Cerberus straightens up before them, raising all three of it’s heads to stare down at them, heads and necks glowing brightly like hot magma.
“I’m afraid it is,” Ignis says seriously.
The heads lower and the fire that’s been brewing inside the heads is on the floor between them and the daemon, stopping them from pressing forward and leaving them vulnerable to attack.
But as the heads raise back up there’s a flash of silver and an angry cry, a dark clad figure soaring towards the centre neck and slicing almost clean through with a familiar katana.
“Marshal!” Noct yells sounding exhilarated.
Cor lands just ahead of their cluster, looking strong and intimidating in the low light.
He must have been nearby, he must have been waiting for them to lend a hand one last time and get them where they need need to go.
Prompto’s never been so glad to see someone in his life.
With one pretty obvious exception.
“Mind if this old soldier joins you?” Cor asks.
Noct grins, “Not at all.”
“Good,” Cor responds, “You may be down but you’re not out. Get ready for round two!”
They form up behind Cor and charge forward together. It’s not easy now but its certainly easier with an extra body to keep the heads distracted. The centre one is noticeably weaker too, whatever damage Cor did seems to have stuck for the first time and Prompto tries to focus his damage on it thinking if they can just take out one of the heads for good it’ll be disorientated and encumbered enough they can finally get some headway.
The beast swipes for Noct with one of it’s monstrous paws, talons longer than Prompto is, and Noct parries it, throwing it’s own weight back at it and Cerberus rears back so far it goes over, completely on it’s back, legs flailing desperately.
“All together!” Cor cries and Prompto throws everything his has at it, emptying his assault rifle into it’s belly then pulling forth his auto crossbow and just letting projectiles fly at it until his arms are shaking and his legs are unsteady.
Noct leaps upwards and his royal arms circle him again, a magnificent display of the Old King’s arsenal, lending their strength to the King of Kings in the toughest battle he’s faced so far.
Prompto gets knocked back by a struggling limb, hard across the chest, but Gladio’s there to catch him, stopping him from hitting the ground and holding him up as Prompto wheezes the wind back into him.
“Are you alright?” Ignis asks and Prompto feels another hand on his arm.
“Fine,” Prompto says, “What -”
But it’s over.
The daemon dog lays before them, looking like spent charcoal and unmoving.
Noct drops to the floor oddly gracefully, the power of kings leaving him for now.
Prompto goes to start congratulating everyone, crow over a hard fought victory like he so enjoys but suddenly Cor drops down onto one knee, bracing himself against it as he seemingly struggles to catch his breath.
“Marshal,” Noct cries, rushing forward to grab his shoulder.
Gladio steps forward too, face gone pale, “Hey, you alright?” He makes a move like he wants to help him up but pulls his hands back.
They’ve spent a lot of time together, Prompto knows, both when Gladio felt the need to prove himself during their journey and after the long night came. Prompto wonders if Gladio found something of a father in Cor, after the loss of his own. Prompto’s hands are trembling, a sickening sense of dread in his stomach at the thought of losing Cor and wonders if he has found a father figure of sorts for the first time in his life.
Why does he always realise these things too late?
Cor laughs, hollow, “Looks like even the Immortal has his limits.”
Noct offers him a hand and Cor gets to his feet, slightly shaky but steady enough that Prompto squashes the desire to rush forward and help him too.
“I feel like I have failed you, Highness -”
“You haven’t!” Noct insists vehemently.
Cor looks at Noct for a long time, expression undeniably fond.
“It has been - the highest honour,” Cor tells him, “To serve the two finest kings Lucis has ever known.”
Prompto knows how much that will mean to Noct. Knows that mostly unspoken fear he has about not being good enough, not being able to live up to the seemingly impossible legacy set before him.
Noct swallows, clearly moved by the words. Proudly he says, “And I am honoured to have fought by your side, Marshal.”
Cor grasps Noct’s hand, the one bearing the ring and says, “Perhaps we’ll meet again - at daybreak.”
And Prompto’s realises with another sickening jolt that Cor knows. Regis must have told him what the prophecy really meant, it’s why he was the one to tell Noct how important it was to collect the royal arms. Why he’d pressed Noct forward and urged him to rely on those around him.
Cor must surely know that Noct understands now, what his destiny has in store for him.
Cor releases Noct’s hand and takes a step away from them. He bows, formal and proud, and each of them return the gesture. As soon as he’s straightened up Cor turns and starts to walk away. In perfect sync the four of them step forward to follow.
“Wait,” Noct says, “Let us escort you back - somewhere safe.”
“You need to move forward, highness,” Cor tells him, “I’ll be underground before you know it. Me and the Glaive will be waiting for whatever is to come.”
It would wound Cor’s pride to press further now, to insist and undermine his ability to take care of himself, and he nods to Cor, half turning away so Cor can slink away in peace.
-
The barrier around the Citadel is all the more imposing up close. Vibrating with energy and making Prompto feel claustrophobic even though he’s on the outside of it.
But that feeling could be attributed the veritable army of daemons that are suddenly springing to life in the streets and heading towards them like they’re emitting some kind of homing beacon.
“Looks like there’s no way past the wall,” Prompto says in a pretty good impression of calm, he thinks, “And there’s way too many of them!”
“And no way outta this either,” Gladio agrees.
Noct sounds angry when he says, “Still - we can’t just give up now.”
Prompto watches him, awed as always when the edges of his eyes start to turn purple, bleeding beautifully into the blue.
Looks like Noct’s might have a way out of this after all.
Prompto waits, to see if Ramuh will split the sky with lightning or if Titan’s going to fly at the barrier and pull it apart with his bare hands.
Prompto blinks when she appears. As beautiful now as she ever was in life, Luna standing before them whole and unharmed looking as she had whenever Prompto had seen her on TV growing up. She glows with an ethereal light, tethered to Eos by whatever magic binds the Oracle here to fulfil her duty.
“Luna,” Noct sputters.
“Gods above,” Luna’s voice rings out proud and clear, “Hear my plea: lend the Chosen King your strength that he may save our star from darkness’ blight!”
From behind her - from nowhere - steps Gentiana.
“The lady’s words have reached the heavens. By the will of the Oracle and the grace of the gods, a path for the King is made.”
Ignis had told him, so Prompto knows, Gentiana and Shiva are one and the same but he still feels his jaw drop open when she starts to walk forward and within three full steps has shed her earthly form to become the perfect image of the Glacian from every artwork of the Astrals Prompto’s ever seen.
In the road before them daemons are blown apart by huge bolts of lightning, the power of storms ripping them limb from limb and decimating the horde.
Prompto doesn’t know where to look, up at Ramuh as he fights back the daemons or towards Shiva where she’d suddenly flying, accompanied by smaller versions of her that are no less beautiful or impressive for their size. They circle the Citadel and the barrier turns from red to white, frozen solid in their wake.
Prompto hears Leviathan before he sees her, an audible rush of water that rushes out of the ground, flooding the Citadel courtyard as she climbs out of it to wrap the length of her form around the magical wall and visibly squeezing it until cracks forming across the surface if it from the pressure.
Titan bounds into view with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball, winding back his fist even as he flies towards the barrier, colliding with it with such force that fissures appear all up one side, weakening it from yet another angle.
Prompto sees large parts of the barrier fall away and hope soars in his chest.
They can do this, they’re not alone.
Ardyn has no where left to hide.
The Draconian seems to fill the sky, more imposing than even Ramuh. A huge figure in dark armour with wings formed of swords. He spreads his arms and enormous rings of blades form in front of him. They start to spin, pointing down towards the Citadel and a ball of light builds dead centre, increasing in size with the speed of the swords until suddenly it bursts in a jet of magic that rushes towards the barrier and impacts with it with such force Prompto feels it in his teeth.
The wall seems to pulse with the magic, fighting against it and then it shatters, breaking apart in a hundred thousand tiny splinters that cascade towards the earth like broken glass shimmering and oddly beautiful in the lingering light of the spell that defeated them.
Eos seems almost too quiet in the wake of this godly intervention.
At his side Noct takes a step and Prompto turns to see Luna still there, smiling faintly at them.
“Luna,” Noct breathes, “Thank you.”
Luna places a hand on her chest and bows to Noctis.
“The fate of our star rests with you now, my King,” she tells him.
Luna raises her hand and Noct steps forward but as their fingertips brush she vanishes, the white light surrounding her dispersing with the wind.
Prompto hopes that she can be at peace now, finally after all this time. He bows his head and thanks her silently for everything she’s done for Noct, for him, for the world.
“Talk about divine intervention,” Gladio says.
“Feels good to know the gods are fighting on our side,” Prompto admits. Since Noct’s return, since he found out what that's meant, he’s been fighting against them in his own mind, angry at them for asking this of Noct. Prompto doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive them but he can be thankful for this at least, not letting him die inches before he completed his goal.
“They’ve entrusted the future to you, Noct,” Ignis intones carefully.
Noct pulls his shoulders back just a little, raises his head from where it had been bowed.
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to let ‘em down now.”
This is it.
This is really it.
The Crystal is inside. Ardyn waiting with it. Just one last fight before this is all over.
Suddenly Prompto feels like crying.
“Are you ready Noct?” Ignis asks gently.
Noct nods, but instead of turning and heading through the gates he steps right up into Prompto’s face and cups Prompto’s cheek with his hands. The metal of the Ring is cold against Prompto’s skin.
“I love you,” Noct whispers fiercely, uncaring of their audience.
“I love you, too,” Prompto says back, voice trembling but promising, “Always.”
Noct closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together, taking a few steadying breaths. Prompto waits, hands cupping Noct’s elbows and after a moment that is both too long and too short Noct tilts his head to press their mouths together.
It’s a nothing kiss really, just the barest pressure of their mouths against one another but Prompto wants to linger here forever to extend this moment on and on and on so Noct never has to turn and walk up those steps.
But it can’t last forever.
As Noct pulls away he brushes their noses together in a move so endearing and sweet Prompto’s mouth pulls up into a reluctant smile despite the sadness in his chest.
Noct takes a step backwards, hands falling from Prompto’s face.
Noct inhales deeply and lets it out in a rough puff of air.
“I’m ready,” Noct says.
-
Prompto’s never walked the length of the road leading to the Citadel’s grand external staircase.
Because it’s long.
But they walk it rather than run, no one willing to rush towards the end they know is coming.
It’s not like Prompto really expects to be able to walk up the staircase with no problems and hop in an elevator up to the throne room and that’ll be that.
Yet he’s still surprised - and annoyed - when Ardyn awaits them on the bottom step.
“Ifrit, the Infernian,” Adryn says like he’s answering a question, “He doesn’t share the Glacian’s fondness for mankind. But you can expect a warm welcome. I shall await you. Above.”
In a weird twist of Ardyn’s magic the world around them suddenly turns pitch black.
Then blazes back to life.
The world burns, tall pillars of flames acting as a wall between them and their goal. When Prompto’s eyes adjust he sees a humanoid figure of inhuman stature sitting on a burning throne with a crown balanced between his twisted horns.
“Stay cool,” Noct calls to them all, “He’s gonna bring the heat.”
Prompto loves and hates and loves that Noct is trying to crack dumb jokes even now.
They rush forwards - this isn’t their first Astral after all - but this isn’t like Ardyn’s pet. The blast of fire Ifrit sends their way with an almost lazy wave of his hand fills the whole space and Prompto has time to duck behind some cover but Noct doesn’t and it hits him full on, all of them too far away to do anything about it.
Noct drops to the ground, rolling to put out the flames clinging to his clothes and Prompto doesn’t hesitate to dive straight for him, sliding on his knees right up to his side and starting to pat out the fire with the flat of his hands.
“Noct, hang in there buddy,” he tells him, checking the last of the fire is out, “Stay down, we’ll keep him busy.”
Of course telling Noct to stay down in a fight is like screaming into a brick wall so Prompto simply jogs to one side, sending out covering fire and hoping to cause a distraction while Noct gets somewhere safe.
“Noct,” Ignis calls from across the space, “Over hear. Quickly before he strikes again!”
Prompto spares a glance over and sees Noct making his way to where Ignis is safely behind a barrier, tall enough to protect them even if Prompto’s not sure it will hold forever. Noct must be more hurt than Prompto thought though because he’s limping his way over to Ignis, far too slow for Prompto to be comfortable. Prompto rushes towards him but then Gladio is barrelling in from the other direction, grabbing Noct and dragging him bodily to where Ignis is waiting.
Gladio looks up, spots Prompto and gestures frantically for him to get over there so Prompto breaks into a sprint clearing the barrier and hunkering down with the others just as another burst of impossibly hot flames bursts before them, rippling over the barrier in a rush of burning hot air.
When it’s passed they straighten up and Ignis smashes an elixir over Noct, the magic spreading over him in a sheen of crystal blue.
“I got your back!” Prompto calls as he hops to his feet, racing away to try, again, the distraction technique.
Prompto holds no illusions that he’ll be the one to fell a god. All he can do is aid the King of Kings anyway he can.
Ifrit doesn’t even stand, just stays on his throne, arrogantly nonchalant as they assault him with all their strongest attacks and sending walls of flames shooting up from the ground with effortless waves of the hand.
If it weren’t for those minute movements Prompto might almost think he was asleep.
In a different world he and Noct might have gotten along splendidly.
Prompto mostly loses track of his friends, split apart by walls of fire as they are, only seeing Noct from time to time, flitting too and fro in a trail of blue magic. A few times he sees ice explode on or near Ifrit’s form, thrown, presumably by Ignis. It makes logical sense of course, but Prompto can’t find a way to gauge if anything they’re doing is at all effective. Prompto wonders if Gladio’s managed to get close enough to do some damage or if he’s boiling from the inside too, frustration sharp and painful.
The air around him seems to crackle with something other than heat and Prompto looks to his left to see Noct back on the ground, flames around him dispersing as he clutches something in his fist, ring alight.
The sword is half as tall as the Citadel itself and it drives into the ground just metres in front of Noct’s form with a noise that makes Prompto’s ears ring.
But Ifrit is on his feet now, the Citadel courtyard around them returning to view, the Citadel steps ahead of them, the courtyard bright and illuminated.
Bahamut flies into view once more, no less awe inspiring the second time, incomprehensibly huge but agile as he darts across the Insomnian skyline and gracefully loops around the Citadel. He hovers above them, swords returning to gleam bright in the dark sky, before he gestures towards the ground and they soar downward chasing Ifrit’s form as he weaves around the courtyard, narrowly dodging every single one before they pierce the concrete and slowly fade from existence.
But then Bahamut follows one of his swords down, looming over them and Ifrit turns to deflect this blow, bracing himself against all of Bahamut’s might.
Then Noct throws his own sword into the mix throwing it upward as hard as he can and following after it in an impressive feat of acrobatics just to twist in the air and throw it back down. Noct warps into Ifrit’s blade with a ringing clang that dislodges the curved sword from the God’s hand and sends him to his knees.
For two seconds Prompto thinks that’s it. Thinks that Ifrit is done, that now it’ll be a straight shot to Ardyn.
Prompto's more than a little sick of nothing being as simple as it ought to be -
Flames lick up Ifrit’s body the moment Bahamut vanishes back to whatever realm he usually resides, climbing to his feet to stand tall and imposing above them.
“So even that wasn’t enough?” Gladio yells, disbelief obvious in his tone.
“It’s turned for the worst,” Ignis calls, raising an arm to shield his face as the heat of Ifrit’s form blasts his way.
“Out of the frying pan,” Prompto says back, “Dot, dot, dot…”
Weirdly though, he thinks they can do this. Now that Ifrit is up and fighting back, it seems fairer, somehow. Like now they might actually be able to see their attacks take hold.
They took down Titan and Leviathan. The Archaean and the Hydraean. The Infernian won’t stand in their way.
“We need to put this thing out,” Noct tells them bracingly.
This time when Ignis tosses and ice flask at him the Infernian flinches back, avoiding the frozen ground it leaves in it’s wake.
Prompto has no choice but to keep his distance, unloading everything his has into the Infernian whenever he’s stationary long enough for Prompto to take aim. From his vantage point he can't help but notice one side of Ifrit’s body is twisted and blackened. For a moment Prompto thinks it’s a burn, but that must be impossible and it looks so familiar -
It’s the scourge, he realises, terrified by the knowledge that even the Gods aren’t immune to it’s power. Prompto can’t even fathom the level of bravado or stupidity that must have compelled Ardyn to even try to bring a God to heel in such a manner the first place.
Prompto doesn’t know if Ardyn was particularly successful or if Ifrit simply came along for an outlet to express his long documented disdain for human life.
“Prompto!” Noct shouts and Prompto raises both guns to lay into Ifrit while he staggers from something one of the other’s did.
Ifrit follows Noct up into the sky, out of their reach, and Prompto and the others watch as they exchange blows they can’t really see before the King and the God crash back to the ground with such force Prompto’s almost knocked over by the tremors.
“The flames never stop,” Gladio shouts after he straightens up from twisting his blade into Ifrit’s leg.
“Burning super hot now!” Prompto calls back just as a curtain of flame licks up the wall behind him radiating immense heat.
“Going out in a blaze,” Ignis says and Prompto doesn’t know if he means them or Ifrit. The latter he hopes, because if Ignis has given up hope Prompto doesn’t know how he’ll stay on his feet.
“Can’t fight fire with fire,” Noct replies and his voice is almost musing. Thoughtful.
For once, Noct doesn’t seem to be rushing heedlessly in towards the battle even though their foe has finally started reeling from their attacks, dropping to his knees and struggling to get back up.
Gladio pins Ifrit’s foot to the ground with an overhead strike that keeps him stationary enough for Ignis to hit him dead on with an icy spell. Prompto risks lining up a shot with a missile while the God is literally frozen in place and it makes Ifrit stagger sideways, having to use his sword as a brace to keep himself from hitting the ground entirely.
Then the fire isn’t burning so hot all of a sudden and there’s a voice in the air speaking words in a language Prompto’s never heard before.
Prompto turns to seek out Noct, check he’s okay and finds him dead centre in the courtyard, eyes full purple and Gentiana walking casually at his side.
Ifrit pauses and then starts to move frantically, racing towards her.
Prompto rushes towards Noct, hearing Ignis and Gladio’s footsteps in pursuit too.
Shiva remains alone this time, flying slowly upwards as ice forms around Ifrit’s feet, climbing up his body steadily and preventing him from moving. He makes to reach out with his arm, whether to push Shiva away or pull her in close Prompto doesn't know. Shiva’s ice is already across his shoulders and rapidly spreading down his arms and it's mere moments before Ifrit loses complete control over them.
She hovers in front of him, eye to eye, as the ice takes full hold of him. When he’s white from the bottom of his feet to the tip of his horns Shiva places both hands on his face and gently kisses his bottom lip.
Ifrit crumbles.
Shards of ice scatter in Shiva’s breeze, carried off to the beyond.
“Rest, my love. May your soul know peace at last,” Prompto hears Shiva’s disembodied voice say. To Noct she adds, “King of Kings the grace of the gods is with you always.”
“I made a promise,” Noct murmurs, “One that I intend to keep.”
Noct doesn’t hesitate this time, immediately setting off for the stairs like he’s not giving anything else a chance to hold them up. The four of them all but run up the stairs, heedless of the number of steps and when they reach the doors Noct throws them open wide and marches inside.
“That was a most impressive performance,” rings out Ardyn’s voice. Teasing and smug even now when they’re right on top of him.
“You thought that was good?” Noct snarls, “Wait until you see what we’ve got in store for you.”
“I’m giddy with anticipation!” Ardyn goads, “You know where to find me.”
Prompto looks around but he can’t see him. It’s like when he was in the Magitek facility and Ardyn’s voice seemed to follow him around. He’d assumed there were speakers in the walls but now Prompto wonders if it’s one of Ardyn's many tricks.
“He’s gone?” Ignis asks, just a touch tentatively.
“Wasn’t ever here,” Gladio says.
“Asshole,” Prompto mutters.
He half expects Ardyn to chide him but the hall stays blessedly silent apart from their own breathing.
“Come on,” Noct says and he starts walking towards the door into depths of the Citadel.
Prompto never did spend much time here. Not in this part of the Citadel anyway. He’d come for his training via a side entrance, ferried too and from mostly by Ignis and Gladio, not really exploring any part of it but the Crownsguard training facilities.
“It’s all lit up,” Prompto muses. He catches Gladio’s eye and they share a look.
How long has Ardyn been waiting here? Alone in this fortress with nothing for company but daemons?
Like them, he’d been waiting for Noct’s return, but the reasoning behind it is so twisted it makes Prompto feel sick.
“Guess he’s expecting company,” Gladio says, holding the next door open for the others to duck through.
“He wants this as bad as we do,” Noct points out.
They head towards a bank of elevators and Gladio asks the obvious question, “Think the elevators are working?”
“Sure looks like it,” Prompto says taking in the way the call button is lit up a faint green colour.
“He really is taking us by the hand,” Ignis adds and he does not sound happy about it.
Prompto’s not super pleased either, it’s suspicious as hell for a guy dead set on enacting ancient revenge to call his potential doom directly to his door but beyond the brain processes that are keeping Prompto upright and moving its all Prompto can do not to take hold of Noct and beg him not to go any further.
To beg Noct just to stay here with him.
“It’ll save our legs the walk up,” Noct offers as though its a consolation but he doesn’t reach forward to press the call elevator button.
Ignis doesn’t respond.
Prompto hears Gladio take a deep breath and then his hand flies out to jab at the button like if he does it fast enough it maybe won’t be real, or maybe no one will notice he did it.
The doors open at once, the elevator already waiting for them on their level.
It’s so clean inside the Citadel, Prompto realises. Like Ardyn either stopped it from getting damaged in the original assault or went to efforts to clean it up again afterwards. Prompto doesn’t know which one is weirder. Which one is worse.
The elevator takes an age to climb, the throne room more than halfway up the Citadel.
It comes to a halt with an obnoxiously cheery chime that Prompto would have hated even on a good day. The doors slide open, beckoning them out.
“The throne room waits outside,” Gladio says,
“Yeah - and so does Ardyn,” Prompto puts in.
Gladio growls, “Acting like he owns the place.”
Ignis reaches out and presses his hand to Noct’s shoulder.
“It’s time to take it all back,” he encourages.
“It ends here,” Noct says, “Tonight.”
Prompto thinks he might cry. Doesn’t know how long it’ll be before he can’t hold it in any more.
Prompto doesn’t know the way from here and thankfully no one expects him to lead so he falls back a step and takes the rear of the group. They wind through a few identical corridors, each with the same black marble walls and pillars.
It’s another long hallway and Prompto feels a strange rush of deja vu, remembering endless hallways alone in Niflheim where Ardyn had been his tormentor then too.
Gladio suddenly grips his shoulder, a strong comforting grip that reminds him he’s not alone now and he won’t be alone later. Not even when this is all over.
Large double doors at the end of the hallway open up into a large antechamber, the Hall of History, tall ceilings and white walls. Ancient imposing murals looking down at them foretelling the future they’re here to bring forth.
They depict the prophecy, mostly. Ignis had mentioned it to him when he was inducted into the Crownsguard, waiting nervously in his new uniform to receive his blessing from the King. It had been a throw away comment then, something inconsequential from Ignis to try and soothe Prompto’s nerves. Ignis hadn’t believed it then, Prompto still doesn’t want to believe it now.
“I always hated this room as a kid,” Noct says suddenly.
“Yeah?” Prompto says, “And why’s that?”
“Coming here always made my dad all serious and sad,” Noct explains glancing round at the various works on the walls.
It’s not just reminders of things to come, but old portraits and religious effigies too. Smaller images along the walls and lit up like an art gallery.
“It no doubt reminded him of the fate his son would come to bear,” Ignis tells him and from Noct’s expression Prompto supposes he had never come to that conclusion himself before.
“Huh,” Noct murmurs.
“I remember a young prince leaving a mark of his own on one of these paintings,” Ignis says, looking both exasperated and fond, “And getting one of his attendants to cover it up before anyone could notice.”
Noct laughs, it sounds a little brittle, “I wonder if it’s still there?”
Noct walks towards the paintings on the left, remembering which one it was. Prompto follows, intrigued by this little titbit of Noct’s life before him and together the four of them take a moment, a last moment, together in this room.
“Ardyn’s not in any of this pictures,” Gladio points out, looking intensely around at the larger murals.
“No hint of the darkness of legends,” Prompto agrees feeling annoyed by this oversight. Not because he thinks Ardyn deserves recognition but because it might have been useful to have some sort of hint at what they would be facing.
Somehow Prompto ends up by the doors to the throne room, Noct by his side.
Prompto hums thoughtfully. “Not much farther,” he murmurs.
“Well, shall we, Noct?” Ignis urges, fulfilling his duty to Noct until the very end no matter how hard it must be to do so.
“Yeah,” Noct says, but like he had outside he hesitates, “But - ah. Hold on a sec.”
Noct turns to him and Prompto braces himself for another farewell.
“Prom. Can I see your photos?”
Prompto feels all the air leave him at once, it makes him light-headed, almost giddy.
“Um - yeah!”
“I just need one - to take with me,” Noct explains.
“Oh. Yeah, I get it,” Prompto says. Rather than pull free his camera Prompto summons up the stack of real photographs he has in the armiger. It’s not everything he’s ever taken but there’s a lot and he hopes there’s something there to make this easier on Noct. Prompto holds them out, pressing the stack into Noct's hands, “Um - you can take whichever you like.”
Noct looks through them carefully, even the random shots of Aranea and Cid, one of Talcott petting that first Chocobo they’d bought out to Lestallum. Noct takes his time, like this is one of the hardest decisions he’s ever made. Prompto can’t blame him, would want to put this off himself, does want to put this off himself.
Eventually he settles on a shot of the four of them from early on in their journey. It’s not the first picture Prompto had taken of them but one of the earliest, all four of them fresh faced and eager, from before Insomnia fell.
“Now you can’t beat that,” Gladio says as Noct shifts it to the top of the pile, “A shot of all four of us together.”
Ignis half smiles, “Through it all, we had each other.”
“Then it’s settled?” Prompto checks, “That’s the one? No backsies?”
Noct offers him a little smiles and slips the picture into his pocket. He extends them back to Prompto but halfway he pauses and takes them back, quickly rifling through towards the bottom of the stack where he drags out a second picture, seemingly without thinking of it.
It’s a picture of just the two of them, cheeks pressed together in the subdued evening light of Lestallum’s overlook. Prompto had taken it a few days after their first kiss, a silly little reminder of how things had changed between them.
Prompto can’t say anything because the lump in his throat is too large.
“Well I’m offended,” Gladio teases, successfully bringing levity to the moment.
“Shut up,” Noct tries to snap but he’s half laughing.
Noct hands the photos back and Prompto puts them into a pocket of his coat, not sure how the armiger will work once this is all done.
When Prompto looks up Noct is staring at him, eyes soft but intense. He raises his hand to Prompto’s neck, gently traces the edge of Prompto’s jaw with his thumb.
“It’s okay,” Prompto tells him. They both know he’s lying.
Noct starts to speak but Prompto interrupts, “Don’t. It’s - it’s okay. I promise.”
Noct offers him a smile that wavers just on the edges and then pulls away to step up to the ornate doors hiding the throne from view.
Noct places one hand on each door and pushes firmly, they fly open with no resistance.
The most obvious thing out of place should be the massive hole blown out of the side of it but Prompto’s eyes are drawn upwards to the macabre image of four bodies hanging from the ceiling, forms carelessly wrapped in chains and held in disrespectful poses.
Luna’s white dress is stained with blood, Regis looks smaller than he ever had in life -
“What is that?” Prompto gasps.
“I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” calls Ardyn and only then does Prompto spot him languishing casually on the throne, “The throne brings you here? It seats only one.”
Noct takes two steps forward, placing himself at the head of their party.
“Off my chair, jester. The King sits there.”
Ardyn stands and places the flat of his boot roughly onto the throne, sneering down at them. Prompto thinks he half expected them not to make it.
“Oh, Noct,” Ardyn says oddly soft, “How I have waited for this. Longer than you could ever know.”
The crystal hangs above the throne, where it always should have been but out of place now because of the main laying claim to it.
“Tonight the dreams of the blood royal - come to an end,” Ardyn sneers.
“Spite’s all that’s kept him going,” Gladio says almost sadly.
“Talk about a grudge,” Prompto agrees.
“Ardyn sits the throne?” Ignis asks, like he as to know, for certain.
“Not for long,” Noct promises, “This is my ascension.”
Prompto sees the magic form in Ardyn’s hand, watches as it flies towards them but he can do nothing to stop it.
-
Prompto wakes up feeling disorientated.
The hand on his arm that woke him gives another shake.
“Prompto,” Ignis says urgently, “Prompto, wake up. Please.”
“Iggy,” Prompto says, “I’m here - where’s Noct -”
“I heard fighting when I first woke up,” Gladio says and his hand appears in front of Prompto to help him to his feet, “But it’s over now.”
“What does that mean?” Prompto asks desperately, looking between his two friends.
“We don’t know,” Ignis admits.
“It’s still dark,” Gladio says.
That can only mean two things. Either Noct is still alive - that the fighting is over and he’s still alive - or Ardyn won.
“We have to find him,” Prompto says and he turns without waiting for a response, sprinting out of the room. Ignis and Gladio pound after him.
He half wants to take the stairs, stay moving under his own volition because stopping feels treacherous but Gladio drags him bodily into the elevator.
Waiting is horrible. Impossible. Prompto paces back and forth in the small space and neither Ignis or Gladio comment on it as the elevator moves slowly down towards ground level.
Everything looks the same. There’s no fallen walls or new damage to the Citadel. Nothing.
Prompto sprints across the entrance hall and through the still open main doors -
Noct is there. Noct is alive.
As Prompto watches he climbs up from his knees a faint shimmer of magic dispersing across the floor in front of him.
Ardyn is nowhere to be seen.
“What is it?” Ignis asks urgently.
“Noct -” Prompto starts.
“Noct’s alive,” Gladio finishes for him, “Come on.”
They start down the staircase just as Noct turns towards them and at the sight of them rushing towards him Noct stops to wait for them at the base of the steps.
As soon as he’s within reach Prompto throws his arms around Noct’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. Noct returns the hug, face pressed into Prompto’s hair.
“What happened?” Gladio asks, “Is Ardyn gone? Is it done?”
“I defeated Ardyn,” Noct says, words obviously chosen carefully. Prompto releases his hold on him and takes a short step back.
“But it isn’t done,” Ignis surmises.
“I have to go back - to the beyond,” Noct tells them, “That’s where this will really end.”
Gladio looks broken, like he’s been told Noct’s destined to die all over again. Prompto hadn’t even had time to start to hope Noct had managed to circumvent his destiny, too overjoyed to know that he wasn’t gone yet.
Gladio gives Noct a rough nod and briefly averts his gaze.
“I can’t put this off any longer,” Noct says gently.
Ignis takes a deep breath. With remarkable composure he says, “So this is farewell.”
“Yeah,” Noct says, “Here we are.”
“It’s all you,” Gladio says proudly.
Noct takes a few steps forward and climbs the first few steps.
Prompto’s glad he didn’t stop to take him aside again, not sure he can handle another goodbye like that without splintering apart into a thousand pieces.
“No turning back,” Prompto says, voice edged with tears. His vision blurs and he looks towards the ground, ashamed he couldn’t stay strong for Noct in this final moment.
Noct’s foot steps stop.
“Prompto. Gladio. Ignis,” Noct says seriously.
Prompto blinks his eyes, trying to get the tears gone, furious now that his body would try and prevent him from seeing Noct clearly for even one second.
“I leave it to you,” Noct tells them, “Walk tall - my friends.”
“Godspeed - and take care,” Ignis intones. He presses his fist to his hearts and bows low, “Majesty.”
Prompto and Gladio follow suit, pride mingled within the grief.
Prompto hopes the people of Eos know what was given on this day to ensure their future. Prompto knows he’ll give the rest of his life to try and make sure it’s the kind of future Noct would have wanted for them.
“The time has come.”
Noct turns quickly then and begins climbing the stairs, Prompto follows with his eyes, wanting to follow every single step he takes, absorb every moment of Noct’s life that he can before he has no choice.
Noct’s half way up when Prompto hears it, the all too familiar sound of the ground wrenching apart so daemons can burst forth.
“Dammit,” Gladio growls.
“On guard,” Ignis calls.
Prompto summons a gun in each hand and squares his shoulders, not willing to take any chances now.
They don’t need to win, Prompto thinks, they just need to hold. Noct is about to bring the dawn back.
It’s pure adrenaline that keeps them going.
The only thing that stops Prompto from crumpling into a heap and letting the daemons take him.
Prompto’s already tired - exhausted. And it’s probably that which makes this fight feel endless.
I want you to be happy, Noct's voice rings in his head.
They take down two red giants and then the trio of mindflayers that take their place after their demise.
Prompto’s doesn’t want to think about why this is taking so much time, what Noct might possibly be going through in his bid to sacrifice himself for the good of mankind.
It should be easy. The astrals should just inviting him back onto the magical plain that holds the power of the crystal and banishing Ardyn from this world for good.
Prompto wonders if the Glaive are all above ground now too, pushing forward in this last effort or if Cor has gathered them somewhere safe to preserve their ranks.
I love you, Prompto thinks, hoping that Noct's sacrifice doesn't cause him any pain.
Prompto puts the decisive bullets into a grounded Aramusha and then -
Nothing takes it’s place.
He glances to his left and sees Ignis similarly alone, posture defensive and turning his head from side to side like he’s trying to sense the next assault.
Gladio’s ahead of them and suddenly he yells, “Guys!”
The way before them is clear, no daemons as far as Prompto’s eyes can see.
The world is silent and still.
Prompto stares at the horizon as light slowly forms.
For the first time in ten years Prompto feels the light of dawn on his face, the heat of the sun against his cheeks but Prompto can’t see it for the tears in his eyes.
Prompto sinks onto the bottom steps and the joy of this first light never comes for him.
All he can think about is the fact Noct is gone.
And judging by the ache in Prompto’s chest he’s taken half of Prompto’s heart with him.