“Hurry Noctis. I cannot hold back the darkness in him much longer.”

  Luna’s voice roused Noctis from an exhausted doze. “Luna?” he called, sitting up. But she was not there. If she ever was at all.

  Rubbing a hand over his face, Noctis tried to force himself back into a state of alertness. He had found what looked like a dormitory that had doors that closed. The weird MTs didn't seem able to open doors, so he had felt safe enough to rest just for a while. He'd pulled his phone out to check on Gladio and Ignis, surprised he hadn't heard from them yet, only to find his phone flat, his charger locked away in the armiger.

  He had no idea if he had just dreamed Luna urging him to hurry, or if her spirit really was warning him the way she warned him about Ardyn on the train, but the result was the same: he had to hurry to find Prompto. Already he felt guilty for taking this break, but after running and fighting and hiding for what had to be over twenty-four hours with his only weapon a ring that burned to use, he had to rest and recuperate.

  And now, he had to find Prompto. Regardless of whether he had dreamed Luna or not, he knew he was running out of time.

  -l-l-l-

  “Woah.”

  “What is it?” Ignis asked from behind Gladio.

  Gladio glanced back, and then forwards again. “Monitors,” he said. “A lot of them, a whole wall. Looks like some kind of security footage.”

  “Maybe they can help us discern where Noct and Prompto are,” Ignis said, an eagerness in his voice that was reflected by his sure strides forward, his cane finding the stairs and helping him rise them with barely a pause and stopping him short before the controls.

  Gladio had to admit, Ignis was getting used to his handicap. He rarely strayed too far behind now and, though he was covered in minor cuts and bruises from not being able to predict an enemy’s movements, they were not as bad as they could have been and he had even managed to get a few strikes in himself. If he knew what he was fighting, he was even more effective, able to pull from that eidetic memory of his to recall all the strengths and weaknesses of a given creature.

  “Be my eyes, Gladio. What do you see on the monitors?”

  But there were still some things he could never compensate for. Gladio did as he was asked and turned his attention to the monitors. “Empty rooms, those weird MTs, daemons, little ones for the most part. Wait a minute,” he said, leaning closer as something caught his eye.

  “What is it?”

  “A person. I think. Not one of ours but human.”

  “Alive?”

  “I think so,” Gladio said watching the screen closely. “They’re not moving now but they were, that’s what drew my eye. The cell they’re in is dark, it’s hard to see clearly.”

  “We’ll have to come back for them. Our priority must be finding Noctis and Prompto.”

  “And the crystal,” Gladio added. Ignis just nodded. Gladio stepped back and looked at the control panel under the monitors. “Wonder if I can use this to choose what’s displayed.”

  “Describe the panel for me. Preferably using vocabulary more descriptive than ‘big’ and ‘hard’ if you please.”

  Gladio smirked and did his best, describing the buttons and labels, and Ignis directed him based on what he said, having much more of a head for this kind of tech than Gladio did.

  “A lot of the security footage seems corrupted or something; it won't open. There's only one file from a month ago, and a few starting from nearly a week ago.”

  “That would coincide with Prompto’s capture. I wonder if our ‘benefactor’ intended us to find these.”

  “Most likely,” Gladio said darkly. “The oldest is a document.”

  “What's it say?”

  “Something about MTs…” Gladio said, trailing off as he read. His gaze darkened the more he read. “It describes the process of making them. A lot of medical jargon but… Iggy, they're not machines.”

  “What do you mean?” Ignis demanded sharply.

  “They’re people. The empire has been cloning people specifically for their army. Everyone ‘born’ in Zegnautus Keep is really a clone.”

  “Including Prompto,” Ignis said quietly, the implications sinking in. “It makes sense now.”

  “What does?”

  “Both Iris and Talcott thought Prompto was one of the soldiers who killed Jared. I always wondered about that but put it down to general Niflheim features and the trauma of the day’s events. But if Prompto was cloned…” he trailed off, frowning.

  “Damn. Kid can’t catch a break,” Gladio muttered. He doubted Prompto even knew; he certainly hadn’t said anything to that effect.

  “Does it say anything else?”

  “Yeah, a lot. It says that most of the clones use Verstael Besithia for the father’s DNA and various women for the mother, as incubators. They tweak the embryos too, to try for specific traits.” Gladio paused, scrolling down the document, skimming over the scientific stuff he didn’t understand. He often wished Ignis hadn’t lost his sight, but none more so now; he probably could have understood all this stuff but Gladio couldn’t even pronounce some of the words used. “It goes on to say that a unit is assigned a class based on their ability and tolerance, which Prompto already told us, and that those who do not show enough promise are used to create MTs.”

  “Decommissioned,” Ignis said, remembering the term Prompto used.

  “Mhmm,” Gladio said. “Also goes to great length detailing the various ‘techniques’ and their effectiveness in wearing down a unit's resolve, just how much demon blood should be injected, what sorts and the various side effects and-”

  “I think that's enough,” Ignis cut in.

  Gladio glanced at the man and could see he was paler than normal, but he simply hardened his heart and said, “Iggy, we need to know this shit. In case…” he didn't want to say it, but Ignis knew.

  Hands gripping his cane with white knuckles, he sighed and said, “See if you can find a way to print it, then delete it all. If the need arises, we can review it in further detail. Otherwise, such knowledge is better off lost.”

  Gladio could agree to that; he didn't relish the idea of going through this with Noct but with any luck they wouldn't have to. It didn't take him too long to figure out how to print and when he did he folded the pages and stuffed them in the back pocket of his pants.

  “What else is there? We should review what we can while we have the chance.

  Reluctantly, Gladio returned to the monitors, almost dreading what else they would find. “The rest is security footage. Prompto is definitely here somewhere. There's… there's two of Prompto, one of him being tortured and one of Ardyn doing something on a medical table.” He swallowed and closed both of those videos; he didn't need to see those, they had the file detailing what was likely done, watching their friend go through that would give them nothing new.

  “This one's of… Ravus. And Iedolas,” Gladio said, surprised. He shook his head and closed it. “Not important.”

  “Play it anyway,” Ignis said. “If the chancellor left it here when he's removed all other irrelevant information, he wants us to see it for some reason.”

  Gladio growled wordlessly; he didn't want to admit it, but Ignis was right. As though knowing his thoughts, Ignis spoke again. “I am loath to trust him, but at this point, we have no choice. Even if the information is only there to torment us, it still gives us a greater understanding of what we're up against.”

  “Yeah,” Gladio agreed. Even he knew information and strategy were key and there was no one better at dissembling random titbits of knowledge into something usable as Iggy. “Playing it now.”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Iedolas sat in a throne. Ravus stood before him.

  “What of the Hydraean’s power? What of my precious ring?” Iedolas demanded. Black smoke began to roll around him and his voice was strained.

  “By the hand of the Oracle, they are with the king now—their rightful owner. And someday soon he shall use them to purge our star of its scourge,” Ravus said.

  “But the crystal is mine… I am the one True King!” Iedolas shouted, a hint of madness in his voice.

  “Nay,” Ravus countered. “It is Noctis and none other.”

  A magitek trooper stepped out of the shadows behind the emperor. He was familiar.

  “Prompto!” Gladio exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “He's there, with the emperor.” Gladio paused the video and leaned in to look closely, feeling his stomach drop. “He doesn't look good. He's wearing MT armour, including the helmet but without the face mask. His eyes are red and… I hope that's just the poor video quality,” he said even as he knew it wasn't. Knowing Ignis couldn't see it, he added, “There's black marks on his face, like veins.”

  Gladio could see the way Ignis grit his teeth hearing that; the man would be lucky if his jaw didn't break. “Play the rest of the video,” he said, voice tight.

  “The gods have shown Noctis their favour. As blood of the Oracle and in her stead, I will present him with his father’s sword so my king can shine his light upon the world,” Ravus said, his voice passionate. “I will not allow the crystal to fall into the hands of a puppet and the demons it has born.”

  “ You are the puppet… and you must die,” Iedolas commanded, a hand waving forward, indicating his will.

  Prompto rose a gun and fired several times, but Ravus continued on. They fought, and Prompto gained the upper hand, sending Ravus tumbling down over a ledge with a solid kick to his chest.

  “It sounded like Ravus tried to return His Majesty’s sword,” Ignis said when the video had stopped.

  “Yeah,” Gladio agreed. “Guess he finally got over his grudge. Even called Noct ‘his’ king.” He paused, thinking about it, then said, “Let’s move. If that’s what became of Ravus, there’s no telling what he’ll do to Noct, or what’s already been done to Prompto.”

  -l-l-l-

  Prompto dreamed. His body did things, unspeakable things, endured pain he never thought possible. But he was divorced from that, kept separate by a golden woman with blue petals floating around her. She was beautiful, and her golden light distracted him from what Ardyn was doing.

  In another place, another world, they talked like old friends, gossiping about Noctis. “We were childhood friends,” she told him. “Even after we were separated, we never stopped talking to one another.”

  “How did you meet?” Prompto found himself asking.

  “You know you're not a real person, surely.”

  Ardyn’s voice carried through to where Prompto was hiding.

  “You were created in a lab, designed to become one of the so called MTs. You are nothing but a clone. Not real. Not individual. Certainly not special. Mass produced.”

  A soft, warm hand to his cheek drew him away from the words before he could acknowledge them and their meaning. “Our parents were friends and so we visited each other often as very young children and would play together,” she said, her words drawing him back to their conversation.

  “What was Noct like as a child?” Prompto asked. “He's life seems so different to anything I had imagined.”

  “He was different back then. More boisterous and energetic. He liked to race around the palace. He would climb trees to rescue cats that didn't need the help. He terrorised the servants and his guards by talking to anyone he came across.”

  “What, seriously?” She smiled at him. “Wow. So… why's he so different now then?”

  “When he was eight years old, a demon attacked him and those he was travelling with. He was badly injured, breaking his lower back and severely injuring his head. He changed after that, but he was still a good person.”

  “I liked him,” Prompto said. “That's why… when he was with Ardyn…”

  “ You are the puppet… And you must die!” the emperor spat and a hand gesture made C1094’s orders obvious: kill Commander Ravus.

  He pulled his gun and fired off three shots, each hitting the Commander in the chest, before the man reached him wielding his sword. The bullets slowed him but didn't stop him, forcing C1094 to block and strike out with his modified vambraces. The Commander was not as strong as he could have been thanks to the bullets, but C1094’s body was also weakened from Inurement.

  “He didn't know, Prompto. Prompto, you're still his friend and you always will be,” she said. Her hands were touching him, grounding him as much as one can be grounded in this dream state. They were gentle and warm to contrast the harsh coldness his body endured.

  “How can you know?” Prompto asked. “I thought I knew him too, but then… when he…”

  “You killed your own mother, you know,” Ardyn said in a conversational tone while C1094’s veins burned to make him stronger. “We used her like an incubator for clones, increasing her level of daemonic blood each time until she birthed only monsters. Then she became a monster herself, a naga I believe, crying over her lost children. Pathetic really, getting so emotional over specifically ordered objects, don't you think?”

  “Prompto, it is my duty to guide the King,” she said.

  Prompto stared (can you stare in a dream?). “You're Luna. I mean Lady Lunafreya,” Prompto said, stunned as the realisation hit him. That was why she looked familiar, though he had only seen her in death. “You were betrothed to Noctis.”

  Luna just smiled. “Yes, my dear Prompto.”

  “But then why are you here, with me. You’re dead, I saw you. Ah, no offence,” but she didn’t seem offended and her smile broadened. If she was dead, and Prompto was speaking with her, that could only mean one thing. “Am I dead?”

  She shook her head, still smiling. “No,” she said. “But you are in danger. I need you to keep your focus on me to keep you safe. You have to be there for Noctis. He will need you for what is to come.”

  “Okay,” he said. And they talked about Noctis.

  -l-l-l-

  “Shit shit shit!” Noctis swore as he decapitated the MT that was trapped with him. “This is not good!”

  Things were going from bad to worse. First being attacked by an iron giant and falling astrals knew how many stories and getting knocked out for who knew how long. Then finding out that Niflheim had been making daemons—actually deliberately creating them! And then being forced to fight a bunch of MTs that jumped from the storage containers he had overheard Prompto telling Ignis about, with only his father’s ring, a ring which burned when he used it, or his father’s sword, a blade which sapped his strength and also hurt to use. And finally, as if that weren’t enough, he now found himself trapped between one stationary electrified barrier, and another that was slowly but inexorably moving towards its twin.

  “Hurry. While you dawdle, people are dying,” Ardyn’s voice taunted over the PA system.

  Sword in hand, Noct struck out at the moving barrier, only to be blasted backwards. “Fuck!” he swore. “Ow…” He climbed to his feet and looked around frantically for something, anything, that could stop it.

  “Noct? Is that you?”

  That voice. Ignis?

  “Hey! Noct! Can you hear us?”

  And that was definitely Gladio!

  “Ignis, Gladio!” Noctis called out, hoping they would hear him.

  “Where are you?”

  Yes! Ignis answered, they could hear him! Hopefully, it wasn’t some trick, but really if it was, he wouldn’t be alive much longer to worry about it.

  “Ah…” Noct started, then “Ow! Fuck!” as the barrier clipped his arm, twisting him around.

  “Noct’s in trouble,” Gladio said to Ignis, his voice clearer now, not muffled.

  “Gladio! There ought to be a kill switch nearby—find it!”

  “How do you know that?” Gladio asked.

  “I believe it’s the reason we were brought here,” Ignis replied.

  Noct didn’t really know what they were talking about, but he was a little distracted right then. He was backing carefully away from the moving electric barrier now, uncomfortably close to the stationary one. And then it was down and he was able to stumble away.

  “That was close,” Gladio said, helping Noct up.

  “About time you guys caught up,” Noctis said breathlessly.

  “You’re welcome?” Gladio snipped.

  “Thanks,” Noct wearily recited, and he shook out his sore hand.

  “After we were separated, we received ‘help’ from the usual suspect.”

  “He gifted us with our weapons, though I notice you’ve acquired a few of your own,” Gladio said, nodding his head to the ring on one hand and the sword held in the other.

  “My father’s sword,” Noct said, holding it up for Gladio’s inspection. “I found it with Ravus’s body. He had bullet wounds but seemed to have died from a fall rather than whatever attacked him.”

  “You mean whoever,” Gladio said, nodding at the sword, approving. “Prompto killed him.”

  “What?” Noctis demanded.

  “We found security footage of it. Iedolas ordered him to kill Ravus. And he did,” Ignis explained.

  “That can’t have been Prompto. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t obey that bastard,” Noctis said, adamant.

  “We know that when we first met him, had he been ordered by a superior officer to kill someone, he would be forced to do it,” Ignis said. “And who knows what he may have been put through to try to bring back that conditioning.”

  “Then we just have to find him,” Noctis said, now more determined than ever to find his friend.

  “Agreed,” Ignis said.

  “Then let’s go,” Gladio added.

  They didn’t have to go far. Ardyn continued to taunt them over the PA system, but Noctis was growing adept at tuning him out and he paid him no mind. One door opened, and then another, and finally they were in what looked like cell blocks. If Prompto was being held prisoner, this is where he would be, Noct was sure of it. There were bodies in some of the cells, twisted inhuman things. He tried to ignore them and then his torch finally lit up the cell at the end of the corridor, where a familiar mop of blonde hair was.

  Prompto!

  Noct ran forwards but skidded to a halt when he realised that he wasn’t locked in there at all. In fact, the door to his cell was wide open. Prompto didn’t even look at him, he just stared straight ahead. He was wearing magitek armour, but fancier and more elaborate than what he had when they first met. He also had a helmet on, but his blonde hair stuck out beneath it and he wasn’t wearing a mask. His eyes were red, but they were dull, like the inactive MTs they sometimes came across in Imperial forts. There were tubes attached to him that disappeared somewhere into the dark recess of the roof. Black liquid of some sort was in them and seemed to be being pumped inside the armour. Into Prompto.

  “Prom?” Noct asked, his voice hesitant.

  Prompto blinked slowly, his eyes still a dull red, his head turning to look at Noct. But there was still no recognition, no reaction.

  “We need to get those things off him,” Gladio said, moving around behind Prompto. He looked up and down the tubes, then, sword in hand, slashed downwards, severing them and jumping back as the black liquid splashed everywhere.

  Still, Prompto didn’t react, didn’t even seem to notice.

  Ardyn’s voice came over the PA system. “Decommissioning usually takes months. I'm afraid I only had a few days with this unit, not even enough time to imprint a number befitting its new status. Nevertheless, I think you'll be pleased with what I've accomplished in such a short time. For example. C1094, attack.”

  Prompto’s eyes lit up at the order, shining red. He did not have a gun, but the arms of his armour had blades. He launched himself at Noctis.