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"Would someone care to explain the purpose of this… expedition?" asked General Caligo Ulldor, second son of House Ulldor, one of the Six High Houses of Niflheim. Under no circumstances, however, was he sulking. Sulking was beneath the dignity of the High Houses.
Hunting was also beneath the dignity of the High Houses, but the two young scions in the vehicle with him clearly did not agree — both Tummelt, a fellow general, and Besithia had hunted for their table in the past.
He supposed he couldn't blame them, as both had been raised far from their family properties in Gralea without a true father figure in their lives, but there was a clear difference between hunting for one's table or for sport, and hunting a beast for pay.
In Lucis.
Besithia glanced into the rearview mirror and gave Caligo the shark's grin that never failed to put his teeth on edge, but before he could actually say whatever outrageous thing he was clearly planning to say, Tummelt piped up: "To foster better relations between the locals and the new government. Stepping in to assist the Hunters in the matters of monster suppression will reduce their casualties and demonstrate our martial superiority."
Caligo wondered if Tummelt was mocking him, then decided no, it was his natural arrogance once again, assuming they were equals.
"I'm just bored," Besithia announced, his grin growing wider.
"Of course you are," muttered Caligo, watching the little rest area in the distance grow closer. Several such waystations spread throughout Lucis like anthills, each featuring an inn, a diner, and as many hastily-strung lights as possible.
"It's not like you had to come with us," was the cheeky reply.
"A surprise inspection isn't a surprise if one flies in on an airship," explained the older man with exaggerated patience. "Both Fort Vaullrey and Aracheole Strongold have come under assault by the fugitive prince and his retinue. Formouth Garrison is clearly the next target."
"How'd you come by that logic?" Besithia asked as the vehicle slowed. "They had reasons for striking when and where they did. As I recall, you were the target at the fort, and as for the stronghold, weren't they after—"
"The Regalia," Tummelt interrupted.
"That's such a weird name for a car," Besithia mused. "Don't most people name their cars something like Vera, or Kottum Tveim?"
Tummelt turned a withering stare on their driver. "Look at the gas station," he said. "That's the Regalia."
Caligo looked, and shook his head. "You're mistaken. I was the one who impounded the vehicle. It's black. While similiar, that one is—" He paused, frowning as he tried to come up with a word to describe the wildly distracting colour that appeared to shift from green to purple and back again.
The withering stare was turned upon him, Tummelt actually twisting in his seat to give Caligo the full force of his expression. Unfortunately for the boy, Caligo had been the recipient of the same expression from the current Lord Tummelt. The boy still lacked the gravitas to pull it off.
Slowly, as if speaking to a child, Tummelt explained, "There are people out there who change the paint on their cars, General."
"Obviously," Caligo answered, favouring him by not rolling his eyes. "But this isn't Gralea, or even Insomnia. This is Leide, perhaps one of the most desolate and godsforsaken deserts known to this star."
Besithia snorted mockingly, and Tummelt rolled his eyes. "Then I take it you've never heard of Hammerhead Garage?"
"Is there a reason I should have?" Caligo demanded as their vehicle pulled into the gas station.
This had the unexpected benefit of silencing the pair of them for a glorious thirty seconds. Then, as Besithia parked next to one of the pumps, they shared a look. "Loqi," announced their driver, "you're filling the tank. I'll mosey over to the diner and see what hunts are available. And General, just… just stay in the car." Caligo bristled, opening his mouth to object, but Besithia spoke over top of him. "Even outside of the armour, you'll stand out in that suit."
This was true enough; Besithia was dressed in drab hunter's garb while Loqi, clad in worn denim pants and a t-shirt with some manner of robot on it, looked all of twelve years old. "If anyone recognises Loqi," Besithia went on, "well, the locals aren't that hostile to him since he has, in fact, been fostering better relations between the locals and the new government by partaking in hunts." Caligo scowled darkly at him, but the younger man just laughed.
"And the Regalia?" asked Loqi, gesturing to the obnoxiously painted vehicle.
"It's not the Reg—" Caligo began, only to be interrupted once again.
"I'll scout around," Besithia said, wearing a grin that was nothing at all like his father's. "I'll pay for the gas first, and check inside for our fugitives. Then when I'm checking over the hunts, I'll look there. They might've just left the car here, if it's theirs. Lots of little nasties around that need to be punted. I've heard some rumours about the Balouve Mines, and if they headed that way… well, waiting for them could be a while. Full of goblins, that place."
"Assuming it is their car, we should call for it to be impounded again," Caligo said, quite reasonably, he felt.
The infuriating blonds both shook their heads. "Not until we have a place to store it," Tummelt said. "It'd be perfect bait for a trap — but we don't have a trap to set yet."
"Formouth Garrison," Caligo said promptly, and was finally rewarded by a slow and thoughtful nod.
"That could work," agreed the shorter man. "But not yet. If we're going to lay a trap, we need to lay the trap before we set the bait."
"Sounds good enough," Besithia chimed in. "I'll go pay and then have a look-see. Loqi, please don't do anything stupid."
"Just who do you think you're talking to?" was the rejoinder as both doors slammed closed, leaving Caligo in the summer heat.
At least the brats had left the windows open.
"Was 'Noct Gar' really the best you could come up with?" teased a frighteningly familiar voice. Automatically, Adam's shoulders tensed, and he debated risking a glance over his shoulder at the speaker.
There was no way Legio would risk coming to Lucis, not with how closely he resembled his father as a young man. Adam still didn't know what it was Legio wanted with him, but it couldn't be good, not if he was that man's son.
So preoccupied was he with his ruminations, he missed the amused reply to Surely-Not-Legio's question. But did the words themselves matter? Despite his name, Legio usually travelled alone. He could risk a look to make sure, right?
He glanced to his left as casually as he could, trying to make it seem as though he was looking at the menu board, and from the corner of his eye he saw the door close behind two young men. They were about the same height, and both mostly wearing black despite the desert heat. One had black hair, but Adam couldn't notice anything other than that, because the other one looked exactly like Legio.
Djinni whined softly, taking her paws from the table and nuzzling his knee, drawing his gaze to her. Before he could start hyperventilating, he reached under the table to start scratching her behind the ears.
That wasn't Legio, it couldn't be, he told himself. The boy had more freckles, for a start, and his pure blond hair was much shorter than Legio's. And the voice, while identical, lacked Legio's precise tone and almost-snide cadence.
Adam sighed in relief, silently, trying to ignore the implications of a young man who looked and sounded almost exactly like Lord Besithia's son and heir. He succeeded, at least a little, because his stomach stopped churning and he could look at his food again.
Habit had him keeping one golden eye on the boys, now seated at the counter and glancing over the laminated, coffee-stained menus and quietly arguing about what to order.
That calm abruptly shattered when a battered hat landed on his head and Legio's actual voice murmured, "Play it cool and don't look outside."
It took everything Adam had not to yelp as Legio slid into the seat across from him, dressed like one of the local hunters. He glanced to the side again, but the boy he'd mistaken for Legio was still seated with his dark-haired friend.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in disbelief, earning a half-smile.
"Would you believe tech support?"
Adam supposed his doubt showed on his face, because the smile widened into a grin. "No, really. Finished the job, thought I'd pull in some hunts, and screw me if a couple of killjoys decided to tag along to— don't look ," Legio interrupted himself, reaching out to put a hand between Adam's face and the window. He didn't touch him, but Adam flinched back anyway.
An unreadable expression flicked across the blond's face as he withdrew his hand. Under his breath he muttered, "This is what I get ," in Nifen, then pushed himself up from the table and sauntered to where the two boys were seated at the counter.
"'Scuse me," Prompto heard himself say, which was weird as hell because he hadn't actually said anything. Confused, he and Noct both glanced to the right to see a young man reaching for a napkin. Reflexively, Noctis moved the holder closer to the stranger, but the man's next words, in a nearly inaudible tone, made them freeze.
"Your friends are taking cover in the gas station. For the love of Ramuh, do not leave this counter."
Noct nearly fell from his seat, but Prompto grabbed his arm to steady him. "Who—" he started to demand, but the words trailed off as they both realised the stranger looked very much like him .
The lookalike backed off immediately, sliding into another booth where someone else sat with a medium-sized dog. "Doesn't really matter."
The other man had his face buried in his hands, muttering something that sounded vaguely like, "Legio, why are you like this?" His shoulders heaved, like he was taking a deep breath, then he raised his head.
Promto decided the gods were playing tricks on him. If the blond stranger could've been his cousin or something, the other man looked weirdly like that creep Izunia, but without the decidedly creepy vibes.
"Why do you look like me?" Prompto asked, turning his attention back to the other blond. He did his best to sound curious rather than nervous, but he knew Noct could feel how tightly he was clinging to his arm, could feel just how slightly he was shaking. Trying to pretend he wasn't looking, he glanced down at the stranger's wrist, but the kerchief tied around it hid anything that might have been a barcode.
(Why would he have a tattoo? Just because they looked alike didn't mean anything. Monica had at least two lookalikes in the Crownsguard, completely unrelated. But between that and the redhead who looked like the chancellor, but clearly wasn't—)
No. Now wasn't the time to ask.
The other blond shrugged languidly and leaned back in his seat. What was it Definitely-Not-Someone-Of-No-Consequence had called him? Legio? Legio sounded right. "Who can say?" he drawled, his accent somewhere between Lunafreya's and Dave's. It had to be a bit, since he hadn't had a noticeable accent before the question. "There's an old lady out in the Malmalam Thicket who looks exactly like the Hunters' matriarch, and I duno how many Oracle lookalikes on MoogMog making bank right now. Genetics is weird."
The answer was too pat, too rehearsed , especially with the accent carefully tailored to set Prompto's brain on fire , but oddly enough, it helped him relax. There were unrelated people who looked alike. Genetics were weird. Yeah. There was already too much to worry about already, including Totally Not Ardyn, who was getting more and more anxious by the second to judge by the way his dog was leaning against his leg.
Apparently Legio had noticed too, because he abruptly shifted position, leaning his body away from the redhead. "In any case, if you're concerned about folks mistaking you for someone important, try not to stand out and keep your heads down. We all know MTs'll shoot first and ask questions never."
The words were aimed at Noctis, but Legio's eyes were squarely on Prompto. He remembered the warning that had taken ten years off his life, and scowled.
"Who the hell are you?" Noct demanded.
Legio took a sip from the bottle at the corner of the table. "The Hunters know me as Oneshot, but everyone but my old man calls me Legio. Guess you can say I moonlight as freelance tech support." He gestured to the window vaguely. "Went to pick up some bounties, and my previous hires decided to tag along. They didn't notice your car, but I did."
"You work for the Niffs?" Prompto blurted, changing his grip on Noct and trying to pull him away from Legio's booth.
"Pay is pay, and we've all gotta make some gil," was the easy answer, once again in that absolutely infuriating mixed accent.
It was not, however, a denial.
Noct turned as if to leave, and the older blond made a noise half between alarm and discuss. "Stay here ," he said. "Ulldor and Tummelt are across the street. Do you get it now?"
All three of them froze — Noctis, Prompto, and the still-unnamed redhead who had been trying to ease out of the booth.
Legio took a long pull of his bottle and set it back down. Despite the way he knocked it back, Prompto could see the label for Phoenix Purple. "Tummelt made me pull over because he thought he recognised your car."
"What's any of this got to do with him?" Noctis snapped, pointing at Definitely Not Ardyn.
"Nothing," the redhead said. Just like how Legio did and didn't sound like Prompto, he did and didn't sound like Izunia. His voice was way less smarmy and a lot more nervous.
"I've known Adam since we were kids," Legio cut in. "Same class, you might say."
Adam scowled darkly at him for that, but didn't deny it.
Reaching out with one long-limbed arm, Legio snagged the bill from beside Noct's plate. "My treat this time. For the double scare," he said, flashing a grin that was nothing at all like his own and yet still put Prom's hair on end. He left them alone after that, whispering quietly with Adam for a few moments more before finally leaving.
It wasn't until later, when they were on their way for their second trip to the mine, that Prompto realised why the smile had bothered him:
Legio smiled like Ardyn.
Adam glared at Legio. "What was that all about?"
The other man shrugged and finished his soda. "Just trying to keep you from being caged. Maybe Loqi'd let it slide, but we both know that old-school windbag would rat you out in a heartbeat if he thought it'd get him a new upgrade for his mek." He grabbed Adam's bill, too. "I've stalled long enough to make him think I did a thorough search for our royal boys there. Happy trails, Adam. And stay away from Formouth Garrison. The gundam pilots want to play war."
"I don't understand you," Adam muttered, watching Legio saunter to the cashier to pay.
"Don't even try," Legio called back over his shoulder, tone light. "You'll get a migraine."
That night, at the campfire, Noct wandered out to the edge of the Haven and sat with his back to the fire, staring out at the stars. Things kept changing every time, so why didn't he remember Legio or Adam?
It wasn't the only change, of course — Ezma's key weighed heavier in his pocket than the one Cor had given him lifetimes ago — but it seemed significant this time around. But significant for what ? He'd realised long ago that no matter how many times he went back, no matter how many times he relived the same months, no matter how many little changes he made, everything terminated in Altissia. Once Leviathan woke, nothing could change— nothing did change — and it all ended in the same way: forced into an unnatural chrysalis until he was ready for the end.
(He tried, every time, on the train. Gods and daemons, he tried so hard to stop himself, to catch Prompto, to keep him from falling from the train, and every time it was like he wasn't controlling his own body—)
But it still wasn't Bahamut's prophesied time, and even though he knew how it would inevitably end…
Nothing changed for him . He couldn't alter anything that happened before Insomnia's fall. But for the world of the new dawn, perhaps…
He'd go back as many times as he had to, until all the menaces sealed beneath Lucis were finally destroyed.
But why had he run into these two men this time?
Legio was obviously another MT-clone, like Prompto, though everything about him suggested a noble upbringing. Adam, however, was the mystery. Had the madman in charge of Niflheim's MT program actually created a clone of Ardyn "LOL I'm No One Of Importance" Izunia?
The thought nearly made him gag.
But still — Adam really seemed nothing at all like Ardyn. Noct couldn't imagine the daemonic troll with an emotional support dog, or even being cowed by someone like… well, like Legio.
Now Noct frowned, considering the MT clone. That smile, the somewhat unpredictable way he moved, the fact that he'd deliberately called attention to himself and then warned them about Ulldor and Tummelt right outside…
He could very well picture Legio tossing them a coin and calling it an allowance.
Sometimes things happened in a loop that rarely happened again. The Adamantoise was always down to tussle, but Carbuncle had taken him to the festival in his dreams only twice, and the Assassin's Fest had only happened once. At some point Perpetouss Keep had developed a… connection to an entirely different world, and it had never gone away after.
So some of the changes remained.
Would Legio and Adam be one of those?
Maybe…
Maybe if he changed enough, one day the loop would stop. One day he'd stop being so afraid to fulfill the prophecy… or maybe, one day he'd change enough that he could change the prophecy altogether.
It was likely a vain hope, but still… hope was something he hadn't had in years.
For the first time in a while, he looked forward to dawn.
After all… it might hold something new.