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Summary
A miraculous survival only meant one of two things: either the Astrals showed Noctis mercy, or there was some other impending doom he had to stop. Seeing as that first option was doubtful - at best - and he had yet another dream showing him...something of the future, he was willing to bet his life it was the second one. With the knowledge the world was safe, and the feeling he had done his duty as king, he left to find the one thing that could at least begin to lead him answers. The one thing he clearly recognized in his dream
You.
'Cause you're the last of a dying breed.
Write our names in the wet concrete.
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me.
I'm here in search of your glory.
there's been a million before me.
That ultra-kind of love,
You never walk away from.
You're just the last of the real ones.