Prompto was breathing heavily, ears ringing from the explosions and constant gun shots, the hand holding his gun trembling slightly, though he tried not to show it. That was… Ramuh. He had been told how the prince could summon the aid of the gods, of course, that was what the glow had been with the Titan, and he had seen firsthand how he pulled crystalline swords from the tombs of his ancestors. But nothing compared to the complete destruction of the gods.

  “Really glad I’m on your side right about now,” Prompto said, as he sent his gun away.

  Noct shot him a weary smile. “With your shot, so am I. The way you blew up that mech… magic!”

  It was just in time too; the sun was beginning to rise and with no end in sight, Prompto wasn’t sure how they were supposed to deal with the influx of enemies that was sure to come. Still, Cindy had really come through for them this time with her tip on where the Nif’s had stored the Regalia and, with that whole lightning ritual thing done, they had wasted no time in getting their wheels back. Good thing too; chocobos were fun to ride but they couldn’t cover nearly as much ground as the Regalia, which meant they had to plan their movements very carefully to ensure there was always a haven that could be reached by the time the sun started to set.

  “At least it clears the way to simply drive the Regalia out of here,” Gladio said.

  “Quite right,” Ignis replied.

  Perhaps it was training, perhaps it was habit, but something alerted Prompto to the fact that they were being followed. Ramuh hadn’t killed everyone, it seemed.

  “Ah, guys?” Prompto said, catching sight of the figure finally. Resplendent in white robes and shining silver metal, he nonetheless recognised the Commander of Niflheim, even if only by reputation.

  “Long has it been, Noctis,” the commander said.

  “Ravus,” Noctis replied.

  It seemed they both knew each other by more than reputation, Prompto thought, as they each approached the other.

  “You receive the Storm’s blessing. And yet.” He drew his sword and in an instant had its blade against Noct’s throat. That he didn’t immediately slice meant he didn’t mean to kill the prince, but it was still a very obvious threat. “You know nothing of the consequences.”

  “Watch it,” Gladio snapped, immediately moving to put himself between the sword and his prince.

  Ravus responded simply by moving the blade to the Shield’s throat, pressing to drive him back. Prompto and Ignis both responded at the same time, Ignis to leap forward, and Prompto to start raising his gun, ignoring the pain such an action caused.

  “Be still, all of you,” Ravus commanded, and, despite his best efforts to the contrary, Prompto had to obey. Ignis didn’t but clearly could see that it would be best to follow the order for now; with the blade still at Gladio’s throat, any wrong move could spell the man’s death.

  “Heir to a crown befitting no other… witness his splendour and glory,” Ravus said, the contemptuous sneer obvious in his voice. “All hail the Chosen King.”

  “Awful high and mighty for an Imperial rat,” Noctis taunted, trying to draw the attention away from Gladio, to give him the break he needed. “Serving the enemy to hunt down Luna!”

  His words had the desired effect; Ravus ignored Gladio and instead rushed forward, grabbing Noct by the throat with his metal hand. “I do not serve,” he snarled. “I command!” He shoved Noct away and Gladio took the opportunity to insert himself back between Ravus and Noctis. Prompto moved behind Ignis to rest his hand on Noct’s shoulder.

  “You okay?” he hissed; he couldn’t easily fight Ravus, but he could at least see if his friend was alright.

  Noct nodded, but his attention remained fixed on Ravus.

  “The King’s sworn shield,” Ravus said, voice mocking.

  “You better believe it,” Gladio said confidently. Watching, Prompto could easily see the power Gladio had; his stance was confident but not overly so, fists clenched and ready to fight if need be. Protective and fully aware of his position and his job in protecting Noctis. Prompto had seen Gladio on the battlefield, had only narrowly avoided being beheaded by the man himself. He knew that confidence was well deserved.

  Ravus seemed to see none of this. “A weak shield protects naught,” he said before bringing his sword down in a strike.

  Gladio, seeing this was no idle threat this time, summoned his own blade and blocked it. Instead of easily turning it to the side though, as he did whenever he and Noct were training, he was struggling to even hold it steady, to stop it from descending to his head. Gladio’s huge muscles were straining, bulging, fighting against the inhuman strength Ravus possessed.

  Inhuman. Prompto’s eyes widened with realisation. The arm was metal and made with the same fancy silver armour the A-Grade magitek soldiers had. And if he had undergone even a few of the enhancements A-Grades were privy to, then this was not a fight they could win!

  That thought became obvious to all when, although Gladio managed to finally turn Ravus’s blade aside, the Commander slammed his arm into the shield’s chest—his unenhanced arm!—and threw Gladio back. He went flying past Noct and Prompto and slammed into the Regalia.

  “Gladio!” Noct shouted.

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  Prompto winced in sympathy and hurried over to help. He wasn’t sure what he could do, but at least he could help the man stand, to not show any weakness to Ravus. Well, not any more than they already had. A sign of how badly the man was hurt, Gladio used Prompto’s shoulder to help him stay upright, his other arm wrapped around his chest, stance wide for balance.

  Now, though, Noct was pissed. Prompto didn’t think he had ever seen the prince truly furious. Frustrated, sure, maybe even some mild anger after hearing snippets of Prompto’s past, but even that was nothing when compared to what this was.

  “Hey! Wanna go? Let’s do it,” he said, moving forwards and summoning his armiger, crystalline weapons dancing around him in a circle.

  Ravus smiled and looked more than happy to do just that. “Should the Chosen fall, that too is fate,” he said.

  Instead of the expected fight though, Ravus looked to the side, drawing Prompto’s attention in that direction as well.

  “Oh shit,” he muttered, seeing who it was who had arrived.

  “I’d say that’s far enough,” Ardyn said as he strutted towards them.

  Prompto remained where he was by Gladio’s side, ready to help him however he could, but Ignis began to move sideways so that he was slightly behind Ardyn, to get the jump on him if need be. Apart from tormenting Prompto, the Chancellor hadn’t really done anything to harm them yet and had actually helped them, though why Prompto had no idea. But despite that, he definitely wasn’t to be trusted and, after overhearing Prompto’s talk with Noctis the other night, Ignis wasn’t going to let him get the advantage.

  “A hand, Highness?” Ardyn asked.

  “Not from you,” Noct snapped. The corner of Prompto’s mouth twitched; the quiet anger the prince had shown after learning that the Chancellor had overseen Prompto’s reassignment was evident in his voice, in the way his eyes narrowed dangerously. His armiger had been dispersed but a tingle along Prompto’s hand and arm told him it was ready just below the surface and could be called upon again in an instant should Noct need it.

  “Oh, but I’m here to help,” Ardyn said, appearing oblivious both to how angry Noctis was and to how Ravus had turned away from him, clearly uncomfortable by his presence. That was interesting, Prompto thought. Perhaps things weren’t as cohesive in the Niflheim leadership as he was led to believe.

  “And how is that?” Ignis asked.

  “By taking the army away,” Ardyn replied.

  “You expect us to believe that?” Gladio asked, his voice pained despite his efforts to hide it. Prompto had to admit, he was of the same opinion. If the Commander was here, it would be at the head of a small army of reinforcements, more than enough to take the four of them down, especially since they had already been fighting all night. And the Chancellor wouldn’t allow them to just leave and take the Regalia unless there was something in it for him. Prompto just couldn’t figure out what that something might be.

  “Believe what you will,” Ardyn said. His eyes then fell on Prompto and smirked. “I see you kept your malfunctioning MT around.”

  Prompto’s heart raced, but he was damned if he would let the Chancellor get away with a repeat of the last time. He summoned his gun and rose it. Sweat instantly broke out on his forehead as the pain—already a constant low-level ache while fighting—blossomed into agony. His gun shook, but he held it as steady as he could and tried to convince himself to just pull the trigger.

  “C1094, lower your gun,” Ardyn ordered sharply.

  Prompto closed his eyes as his arms began to lower of their own accord. He heard Ardyn chortle and gritted his teeth, hating himself, hating his body, hating the Empire and everything they did to him.

  “Hmm, I wonder,” the Chancellor said in a considering tone. “C1094, shoot the prince.”

  “What?” Noct demanded.

  Prompto began to raise the gun.

  No!

  Pain exploded through his head. He gasped, the gun trembling in his hand.

  No!

  He can’t do this! Those others had meant nothing to him. This wouldn’t bring him the euphoria he still sometimes craved. He couldn’t kill his friend!

  No, no, no!

  Prompto dropped his gun and it disappeared in its usual crystal burst. He didn’t notice as he gripped his hair, a cry of agony ripping from his throat. The pain was building, getting worse and worse until it felt as though his head exploding would be a relief.

  “Oh look, I think I broke it,” Ardyn said, still laughing.

  There was a hand on his shoulder, but Prompto couldn’t feel it. He had fallen to his knees, unable to stop screaming as the pain just would. Not. Stop!

  “Prom. Prompto, listen to me.” Noct’s voice, and he was close. “Are you listening?”

  Prompto, teeth gritted, managed a nod. Yes, he was listening. It was hard to focus, but he was listening.

  “You obey me and only me,” Noctis said, his voice firm. “Ignore everything Ardyn says. Ignore any order given to you by anyone from Niflheim. Is that understood?”

  “Yes sir,” Prompto answered automatically, responding to the tone even before the words themselves sunk in. When they did, however, the pain began to ease. He crawled away slightly and vomited off to the side before sitting back, his back resting against the wheel of the Regalia.

  Ardyn was clapping that slow, annoying clap. “Oh, very clever, your highness,” he said. “We’re going to have a lot of fun soon. When next we meet, it’ll be across the seas. Just so happens we have business of our own with the tutelary deity. Don’t we?”

  Ravus, who had impartially watched the entire scene play out, turned slightly towards him at that, but didn’t answer.

  “Fare you well, your highness,” Ardyn said, making a sweeping bow before leaving with Ravus in tow.

  Prompto tilted his head back against the car, eyes closed. That… had hurt. A lot.

  “Prom? You okay?”

  Noct’s voice was so hesitant that Prompto opened his eyes and did his best to smile, though it turned out more of a grimace. Noct was kneeling right in front of him, his face creased with concern. Glancing to the side, he saw Ignis was tending to Gladio, so he drew his attention back to the prince. “I’m fine,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry, Prom,” Noct said, and Prompto frowned at the genuine sorrow in his voice.

  “What for? I should be the one who should be apologising, I… I nearly…” He couldn’t even say it. His hand began to tremble again just thinking about how close he had come to shooting his closest friend.

  “But you didn’t,” Noct said. He took Prompto’s shaking hand in both of his own, stilling it. “You fought it. I just… you were screaming and I couldn’t think of anything else that might stop your pain. I never wanted to order anyone like that.”

  Prompto rose an eyebrow. “But… you’re the prince. King really. It’s your job to give orders.”

  “I want people to obey because they want to, because they trust me. Not because some sadistic programming forces them to,” Noct said.

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’d follow your orders anyway, even without Inurement. But now,” he gave Noct’s hand a squeeze, then let go to wipe the back of it over his sweaty forehead. “Now I think Ardyn won’t be able to repeat that stunt. Your orders are the most recent. You win.”

  Noct smirked and stood. “I’d rather ‘win’ without sinking to their level and using your programming, but I guess a win is a win,” he said, holding his hand out to help Prom up. He looked over to Ignis and Gladio. “Hanging in there, big guy?” he asked.

  “I’ll live,” Gladio said, and though he tried to put on a brave front, his voice was pained.

  “Nonetheless, I suggest we make for Hammerhead. We could all do with some R&R and I’m sure Cindy would like to check over the car.”

  “Right,” Noct said. The four of them, a little battered and worse for wear, climbed into the car and drove out of the base, facing no further attacks or interruptions.