Chapter Text
Prompto is about halfway down the hall when he hears Noctis' scream. Panic shoots through his veins like someone had just replaced them with gasoline and set them ablaze. He surges past Gladio, rushing past the giant sword of the Iron Giant that the big guy is engaging. A couple of daemons stand between him and the door, too. How Noctis got past them, Prompto doesn't know. But he did, and now he's trapped on the other side of a giant door, suffering somehow.
And because of two giant daemons in the way, Prompto is stuck trying to fight his way in. If he could get to the lock mechanism, he could just open the door and they'd be there.
But instead, he's stuck conjuring up his pistol and fighting the enemies in front of him. The wraith in front of him closes in, tries to grab him, but he dives out of the way, firing up and hitting it in the arm. That sends it reeling, giving him the chance to switch to his circular saw and take it out. If they were in Lucis, the four of them together, a maneuver like that probably would have earned him some kind of praise. But the three of them are determined to get past that door, so from there, Prompto simply notices an ice grenade flying through the air. Once Ignis' grenade impacts, Gladio helps Prompto up from the floor, swings his sword at the second wraith, and earns the three of them enough time to squeeze through.
Prompto ensures that Ignis makes it through safely, then hurries up to the locking mechanism, raising his hand to it again. For a split second, he finds himself marveling at how useful the very thing he's cursed for ages has turned out to be. Once he's sure Ignis and Gladio are through the door, he closes it behind them and turns around.
All positive thought drains from his head, however, when they get to the other side of the door. In front of him, Noctis' cries of agony disappear into silence. Into silence, and into the crystal. Ardyn stands between them and the crystal, and what's worse, Noctis isn't even there.
Eyes wide in panic, Prompto shakes his head no. "Noct!" he shouts, surging forward to get to the crystal.
He turns to Ardyn, anger flaming in his eyes. "What did you do to him?!" Prompto screams, his voice echoing out in the large, mostly-empty room.
"Me? I didn't do a thing." Ardyn's faux-innocence is almost offensive, but Prompto is still frozen. He gestures toward the crystal. "He's merely taking a little repose." The whole situation makes his head spin. What's just happened? The whole reason they're here is to get to the crystal, isn't it? Touch it and purge the daemons? Bring back daylight? So, how and why is Noctis in the crystal?
Prompto wishes that he was smarter, so that maybe he could figure out what's happening here, but all that he has are questions.
Gladio is equally enraged, maybe more it seems, and he steps forward. "What the hell just happened here?" he seethes.
"Did you tamper with the crystal somehow?" Ignis asks. And it worries Prompto that Ignis, who normally has answers for everything, can't seem to figure out what's happened. He's missing one of his senses, of course; he can't exactly see what's going on in the room, so he doesn't know exactly what's happened. But that doesn't stop him from trying to piece the situation together.
Ardyn simply chuckles tauntingly, then sighs dramatically. "Tsk tsk, Ignis. Shame you don't have all the answers, isn't it? Shame you can't see what's happening right in front of your face. Maybe you could have saved your dear prince." He hums a soft laugh and turns around. "Now if you'll excuse me," he taunts, tipping his hat facetiously, showing them a smug grin, "I have a date with the throne."
That, however, makes Gladio surge forth with a growl and strike. His sword cuts through Ardyn's shoulder, but only seems to halt him for a second. Prompto takes the cue, though, anger... desperation... lighting a fire in his chest. He conjures his pistol and fires a shot into Ardyn's back, which sends him down to the ground. For a moment, a sense of vindication shoots through Prompto's whole body as Ardyn's hat falls off his head and rolls along the ground. But it's immediately replaced with sadness. With uncertainty.
And that uncertainty only grows when Ardyn somehow manages to pick himself back up. Prompto can only stare blankly as he turns. Blankness quickly turns to horror, though, when Ardyn turns to reveal... Prompto isn't even sure what. His face looks like it's rotting. Like he's a zombie in a video game or something.
"If it comforts you at all," he chides, "your charge is still very much alive. He's just... resting. Like I said. It's no fault of mine, boys. You've quite literally shot the messenger."
Without another word—which is just as well, because it seems that all three of them are far too dumbstruck to speak at this point—Ardyn walks toward the exit. Prompto just barely notices the fact that none of the few daemons left on the other side attack him. Does that mean that he's part daemon? Is that why his face is so messed up? Once again, all Prompto has are questions, and all he really wants are answers.
Right now... the only thing that's certain is that Noctis is in the crystal. Somewhere.
*
While Gladio explains everything that Ignis can't see, Prompto sits butterfly-style on the floor in front of the crystal. He's examined it a dozen times. He's even tried to look into it, but all he saw when he did was solid crystal. He leans forward just slightly, touching his hand to the crystal once again. Maybe somewhere in the corners of his mind, he's hoping that it'll pull him in, just so that he can be with Noctis again, but it doesn't happen.
The crystal is warm, though. The same warmth that Noctis' hand had when he held it in his just hours ago. It makes Prompto not want to move from where he sits. It doesn't emanate the same warmth as Noctis does, but he can still feel it on his fingertips and it brings to him the realization that Ardyn was telling the truth. Noctis is in there. Prompto can't see him, but he can feel him.
A lump chokes Prompto's throat, and he stares up at the crystal. It's the same color as Noctis' eyes.
Breathing a slow and steadying breath, he lets his hand fall back to his side, then raises it again to place on his head. "We should have never let him come in here alone," he mumbles quietly to himself. "If we'd... if he hadn't, then maybe..." He trails off, unsure of what was to follow there.
"We still would have been under the impression that he had to touch the crystal." Ignis' voice sounds closer than it did moments ago. "He would have..." His voice hitches, barely concealed emotion threatening to boil over.
Gladio covers for him, though. "It still would have happened."
Except they would have had to see it. While uncertainty is torture—while Prompto wishes that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his feeling was true—that the warmth really did feel like Noctis' touch... maybe it was better that he hadn't seen. As much as this hurt, it would have hurt all the more having to watch Noctis being pulled in and being able to do nothing about it. Even with the questions, though, he can't stop himself from reaching out to touch the crystal again. Just to feel that same warmth.
"It's not fair," Prompto whispers. So long, he's wondered what it would feel like to be with Noctis. He's wanted to kiss him, to hold his hand, to sleep beside him like he did a few short hours ago. "If I'd known that... that this was going to happen..."
Ignis' hand touches his shoulder. "Don't finish that sentence," he insists. "Noctis had-" he cuts himself off, breathes, then continues- "has wanted that for years. Don't allow yourself to think that what happened here has anything to do with what happened between the two of you. It makes no sense to, anyhow." Even through his sunglasses, and even with his eyes closed, Prompto can still see the emotion on his face.
"You start blaming yourself, and it's gonna make whatever comes next all the harder," Gladio adds, stepping up beside Ignis and turning his head to look at the crystal.
Prompto's hand drops back down, and he turns to look up at Gladio. "What does come next?" he asks despondently, hoping with all of his heart for some kind of certainty in all this mess. His voice doesn't hold the same optimism as it did the last time he spoke those words, and that fact isn't lost on him.
Gladio's responding frown isn't the same disdainful frown he's worn since Ardyn left the room. It's sadder now. He doesn't have to answer the question. Prompto already knows that he doesn't have an answer.
Ignis, though, speaks up. "We keep fighting," he says. "We don't give up. Because if Ardyn is to be believed, Noctis will be back. And if he does come back, he'll never forgive us if we just stagnate. The people back in Lucis will need help, if what we've learned is true. So..." Emotion layers over his voice, but he does his best to rally both Prompto and Gladio.
"We just keep on?!" Prompto asks in desperate incredulity. "H-how?!"
With a hand on his shoulder, Gladio shakes Prompto lightly. "Do it for him. The way he did for you. And we start doing that by not just sitting here moping. By going home and trying to figure out a game plan," he explains plainly.
Prompto is silent for a few seconds, pondering what Gladio and Ignis said, and then he nods. They're absolutely right, of course. Noctis just fought through what had to be a living hell for Prompto. It's the least he can do to do the same for Noctis. He looks up at the crystal again, then blinks slowly to stave off tears. Moving gingerly, the aches of the day catching up to him, Prompto stands up, still keeping his eyes on the crystal.
It's just for now, he thinks, wishing that somehow he could transmit his thoughts to Noctis inside the crystal. And if you come back... when you come back, I'm going to hold you to what you said. We can finish this, and figure out what comes next. Together. He has to believe that their plan means as much to Noctis as it does to him.
He isn't sure how he'll do it, but he'll wait. He'll wait as long as he has to for Noctis to come back.