Warning: Blood and gore

Disclaimer: Don't own Final Fantasy XV


"How many are there?"

"A lot."

Ignis sighed. "A number would be nice, Prompto, even an approximate one."

Prompto winced. "A lot lot. Like… at least fifty. Maybe even more. In fact, definitely even more."

Ignis hummed in thought. "We'll need a plan."

Prompto shook his head. "We can't get the drop on that many goblins, Iggy. They probably already know that we're here."

"They would have attacked if they did. I think ranged weapons are our best bet."

"Gotcha." Prompto summoned his Bio-Blaster from the Armiger. "But what about you?"

In the darkness, one corner of Ignis' mouth quirked up in a smirk. He lifted his right hand, in which he was clasping a magic flask.

Prompto chuckled. "Alright. You hit 'em first and I'll surprise 'em with the bullets."

Ignis gave a single nod, then stood. He launched the flask overhead towards the goblins. It exploded upon impact, and for a moment the night sky was lit up almost as bright as day.

The goblins screamed as they burned. Ten dissolved into purple goo as the fire burned itself out, and the others simply became enraged. They turned in the direction whence the spell had come, gnashing their teeth and flexing their claws.

Prompto stood beside Ignis and unleashed a clip's worth of ammo at them. It hit the crowd of daemons like a cannon ball, but it still wasn't enough to get rid of them all, and now they were advancing.

"Shit!" Prompto exclaimed.

"What's happening?" Ignis readied his daggers.

"They're coming this way. There's still, like, thirty of them."

Ignis rolled his shoulders and advanced. Prompto switched for a pair of pistols and backed away.

Prompto fired off shots into the crowd as Ignis cut them down with his daggers. They made quick work of each goblin individually, but with each one they killed it seemed as though five more spawned to join the swarm.

Prompto continued backing off as several of the goblins made their way passed Ignis. He barely noticed when the ground sloped beneath his feet.

He kept his guns trained on the advancing goblins without paying attention to his surroundings. Only when the heel of his foot dislodged some small stones that went scattering onto the rocky ground below did he realise that he had backed off onto a sort of miniature cliff.

Prompto stopped firing and looked around. The ledge upon which he found himself was not high, and it certainly would do him no harm were he to jump off it, but goblins were swarming around it and clawing their way up to him, blocking off his exit from all directions.

"Gah!" Prompto began firing again. The goblins dissolved after one bullet to the head each, but they came unendingly, and he couldn't thin out the front lines when they were attacking him on all fronts.

When it finally happened, the culprit was one of the goblins behind him.

It managed to jab its claw through the material of his jeans, and began climbing up his leg. He couldn't risk shooting it for fear of hitting himself, and so he resorted to waving his leg to try and kick it off.

His concentration was split between shooting the goblins still advancing and trying to dislodge the one that was on him, and he was successful in neither pursuit. Especially when the goblin on his leg took offence to his attempts and dug its claw into his calf.

Prompto yelped in surprise and pain, and one of his guns slipped from his hand: it disappeared in a flash of blue.

Still firing with his other gun, Prompto reached down to his leg. He grabbed the goblin around its skinny torso. He tugged.

He grit his teeth as the goblin sunk its claws in ever further, and at the wet sensation that accompanied it. The goblin growled up at him, then hissed, then sank its teeth into the flesh of his hand.

"Y-ouch!" Prompto yelped. He pulled his hand away and the goblin let go, but it continued its journey up his body and was now being joined by others.

Prompto banished his remaining gun and tried to shove the goblins away with his bare hands, but it was no use. They were overtaking him from the ground, and he lost his balance. He fell back and knocked his head against the rocks.

"Prompto!"

"Iggy!"

As the goblins crawled over him like scarab beetles over a corpse, Prompto struggled on the ground. Their claws were digging into him, tearing his clothes and drawing blood from his arms, his neck, his face, and his writhing soon weakened not just from the blood loss but the weight of the daemons on top of him.

He couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes…

The goblin on his face dissolved. Prompto gasped a huge lungful of air and opened his eyes. Above him, two thin pieces of metal were flashing fast, cutting down goblins left, right, and centre.

"Prompto, are you okay?"

Prompto coughed. His face was covered with the goblin's remains, and some of the purple gaseous liquid had dripped through his lips and down his throat.

"I'm okay."

With Ignis helping, Prompto fought back the goblins holding him down and pushed himself to his feet. He summoned his guns and he and Ignis cut down the last of the horde.

With the two of them working together, they were done in half an hour.

Prompto laughed as he banished his weapons, and rested his hands on his knees. "Well… that was something, wasn't it?"

Ignis turned to him, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Did they get you?"

Prompto stood up straight. "Get me?"

Ignis waved his hand in a meaningless gesture. "Scratches, bites, the like?"

"Yeah, they were scratching me…" Prompto looked down at his arms, at the multitude of tiny cuts on his skin.

"Prompto?" Ignis moved to stand directly in front of Prompto. "What colour is your blood?"

Prompto gulped and looked down at his wounds. They were oozing a thick liquid, one that seemed too thick to be blood. He squinted, and the world swayed beneath him.

"It looks…" He paused to clear his throat. "It looks… black."

Ignis swore.

The world tilted, and Ignis caught him.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Prompto nodded, breathless. "Y-yeah."

Ignis hummed. "Come on." He shifted so that he had an arm wrapped around Prompto's shoulders and Prompto's arm wrapped around his back. They ambled their way towards the haven some fifty feet away.

With each step, Prompto grew heavier. The light from the runes near blinded him, and he had to look away. By the time they were at the slope up to the haven, he had to close his eyes.

His blood dripped across his skin in thick rivers. The flow was increasing with each passing second, and the wounds whence it came itched as the pair made their way towards the runes.

"Iggy…" Prompto tried to say, but he choked on vile-tasting bile filling his throat. He coughed and spat some out, and when he opened his eyes a fraction the blood he had hacked up was black and writhing on the ground. The edges of the puddle had touched one of the glowing runes, and it was smoking away to nothing.

The itching got worse as they neared the centre of the haven.

Prompto tried to speak again, but he couldn't get the words passed the blood. Ignis laid him down on the rocks and he opened his eyes to beg, as though Ignis would be able to discern what he wanted from a simple look since they had been to Altissia.

A wave of liquid crashed into the back of Prompto's throat. He rolled onto his side and vomited it out, then slumped onto the rocks. Some of his cuts touched the runes, and they burned.

With his throat now free, Prompto could speak, but as the runes burned his tainted blood, all he could do was scream.

~{final-fantasy-xv}~

When Prompto woke, his entire body ached, his throat was dry, and Ignis was lying next to him.

Prompto groaned and rolled onto his back, then pushed himself up and onto his feet. His legs threatened to give way, but he managed to steady himself. He walked across the glowing runes, no longer hurting him, to where Ignis had discarded their bags. He retrieved a bottle of water and took a long swig. Once he was finished, he lowered himself to his knees.

"Prompto?"

Prompto looked up. Ignis was stirring.

"Hey, Iggy. Thanks for helping me out back there."

Ignis sat up and pursed his lips. "You were incredibly lucky you weren't infected with the Scourge."

Prompto rolled the water bottle between his hands. "Well, I'm not sure I can be. I've already got daemon blood running through my veins." He covered his right wrist with his left hand.

Ignis was silent for a moment. "Yes, well, I wanted to be sure. I thought the Oracle's magic in the runes would help with stopping the Scourge from manifesting fully. It seems as though it worked as I had thought."

Prompto chucked. "Yeah, it really freaking hurt."

"Would you rather be dead?"

Prompto's smile slipped from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then sighed and dropped his chin onto his chest.

Ignis let out a small breath, then stood, and made his way over to Prompto. He sat before him, his legs crossed, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I have already lost one of my friends. I will not lose another."

Prompto looked up into Ignis' face. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and his sightless eye and vicious scar almost glittered in the light of the runes. Prompto gulped.

"It's gonna take a lot more than that to do me in."

Ignis gave a small smile at that. Prompto placed his hand over Ignis'.

"Trust me." He leaned forward and bumped his forehead against Ignis'. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll hold you to that," Ignis said. He shifted, and pressed a kiss to Prompto's forehead.