Chapter Text
~ Eight years ago ~
“Hurry!” The small, faceless MT Unit hisses through the metal mask it wears.
Following behind it are two teenagers, brother and sister, only barely matching the breakneck pace the soldier has set towards their unknown destination.
“Where are you taking us?!” Ravus demands, wild-eyed and angry. His breaths come through his teeth, heaving with stress and exhaustion.
“Out,” is the short, equally breathless reply.
“Out?” Lunafreya asks, with no small amount of wonder in her voice. Her eyes are wide, but she holds her calm better than her brother. The metal walls they pass had swiftly become a prison to the siblings and many others. The small MT Unit guiding them knows the halls uncomfortably well.
In response to her question, the Unit slows them to a stop and hands her the pack he’d been carrying. It’s heavy, rattling with canned goods and supplies. In the next breath, he’s heaving open a thick metal door.
Frigid air instantly assaults them, the blizzard outside raging with Shiva’s fury. The sibling’s stolen snow gear barely defends them against the cold despite their high quality. As soon as they step out, however, the wind stills. Watching. Waiting.
The MT pays the sudden change in weather no mind, running over to a mound of snow and heaving up a hidden tarp. Beneath it awaits a snowmobile, and within a minute the MT has the two siblings on the back and is giving Ravus a crash-course in driving it. His hands are shaky, mind overwhelmed, but a determination like no other lights within the prince’s eyes.
“You’re helping us escape,” he says. It’s not a question, but the small armored soldier nods anyway. “Why?”
The boy, or at least he sounds like a boy, and his voice is so, so young, does not take long in answering. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
There’s more to it than that, there has to be, with how much this single boy has risked for them. There are dozens of others in the facility that had more power, more influence, than one lone MT Unit that could have done the “right thing.”
There are others that consider the “right thing” to be the sibling’s continued confinement... Or worse, death.
But this boy, who can’t be older than ten years old, is doing what on one else would so neither of those possibilities can happen.
“Will you be in danger?” Lunafreya asks. Worried, but not for herself. “For helping us?”
The MT Unit stiffens minutely. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, after a heavy pause. “I’ll be alright.”
He won’t. They all know he won’t.
“Come with us!” Lunafreya pleads, grabbing the small soldier’s armored hand. “Please, I cannot bear another death on my behalf.”
The snow falls heavy around them. There’s no room on the snowmobile, nor enough supplies, for another person. Not with the long journey they likely have ahead of them.
“Thank you, Lady Lunafreya,” the boy says gently, taking her gloved hand with both of his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But I can’t. You two have to go quickly, and I’ll only slow you down.”
Even Ravus, despite carrying the rage at the loss of his mother and his home of Tenebrae, looks torn. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?” he asks. This is more than a life debt. Should the siblings survive their escape, it’s an opportunity... A chance to take back everything they had lost.
Mostly everything. Nothing on this Star could bring back their mother.
The MT simply shakes his head. His blank metal mask is unnerving, but even it could not conceal the kindness lingering in the blue-violet eyes that shine from behind it. The way they glimmer with unshed tears. “Just... Be safe, and…” his voice quivers, now. “…and remember me?”
He says it like a question, as if he might not even deserve that much.
“Of course,” Luna says immediately, as Ravus vows, “We will never forget what you’ve done for us.”
The MT seems too overwhelmed to reply immediately, only offering a shaky nod.
“What is your name?” Luna asks, as Ravus starts the snowmobile. They need to leave, and quickly; already too much time has passed. The boy, however, waits with the patience of someone already dead. With them leaving, his goal has been accomplished... He has nothing more to do except await the consequences.
Still, he trembles. His voice, when he answers, is shaky.
"Prompto," he says. “My name is Prompto.”
The last they see of their rescuer is a glimmer of silver among the snow, bowing a final farewell.