"There's no fighting it," Noctis said in a defeated tone. "Looks like we're headed to Altissia."

"Wha – that's awesome, dude!" Prompto said, putting a plate in front of Noctis. They were at Prompto's place – well, it wasn't his place exactly. It belonged to his family. Noctis had never met them, though.

Prompto had taken it upon himself to cook for them – he wasn't a great cook, but he knew how to pull together a few dishes. There was no comparing them to Ignis' gourmet meals, but they did the job. Prompto sat down and began to eat. Noctis was still quiet.

"Ignis and Gladio are coming too," Noctis continued.

"I figured." Prompto frowned for a moment. "It's gonna be lonely here without you guys. But you'll be back, right?"

"That's the plan. But, look –"

"I'm super jealous of your road trip, obviously," Prompto interrupted.

"Yeah, but Prompto –"

"And I know I'm not part of your royal retinue, but – "

This time, it was Noctis' turn to interrupt.

"Dude, can you shut up for like a second? I'm trying to ask you to join the Crownsguard."

Prompto's mouth dropped open. "What? Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah," Noctis laughed. "You should come with us."

Those words carried a lot of weight for Prompto. Noctis wanted him to come along. Prompto had spent so much of his life desperate to find a sense of belonging. He had felt it before, of course, but never with such intensity. He was wanted. Needed, even, because the Crownsguard was supposed to be useful.

"Dude, are you tearing up?"

"No!"

"Oh my God, you are."

"Shut up."


After Noctis left, Prompto's excitement faded, leaving anxiety in its place. He paced around the empty living room, talking to himself.

"I can't fight! I've never killed anything before! What if I can't learn? What am I even supposed to fight with?"

Nobody was around to answer, of course. Prompto was supposed to head to palace tomorrow, to get a crash course in fighting and self-defense. Then it was off to Altissia.

He flopped down onto the couch.

"I guess I'll just have to text them about it," he grumbled, referring to his parents. He couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope, though. Maybe they'd come home just in time to see him.

Prompto sighed.


The next day, Prompto found himself fidgeting under Marshal Cor Leonis' unwavering gaze.

"No fighting experience whatsoever?"

"N-no sir," Prompto squeaked, feeling distinctly embarrassed.

"Well," Cor heaved an exasperated sigh, "let's see what we can do."

He led Prompto into an armory of sorts. The walls were covered with all kinds of swords and spears. Cor stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at Prompto.

"Hmm."

Prompto wanted to ask what there was to 'hmm,' about, but he wasn't sure if there was a polite way of doing so. He decided to keep his mouth shut instead.

"Your physique restricts us quite a bit," Cor said.

Prompto immediately felt his cheeks turn pink. He was no Gladio, that was for sure. And who knew what Ignis was hiding under all of his finery.

"But," Cor continued, heading toward Prompto with a gun in his hand, "this should do."

"A gun?"

Cor was interrupted by Noctis, who had just appeared in the doorway.

"There you are," he said.

Cor bowed immediately. Prompto went into a instant panic, because he wasn't sure if he was supposed to do the same. He just stood there, holding the gun in both of his hands.

"A gun?" Noctis asked, echoing Prompto's exact words from earlier.

"Yes," Cor said, straightening his back. "He'll need a few hours at the shooting range."

"I'll take him," Noctis offered.

"I appreciate the offer, Your Highness, but I have been charged with –"

"It's fine," Noctis interrupted. He began to herd Prompto out of the armory.

Prompto managed to force out a 'thank you, Marshal,' before he was removed from the room entirely.

Cor smiled, and fought the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't help but think of before – history was bound to repeat itself, he supposed.


"Why were you looking for me?" Prompto asked, following Noctis to the shooting range.

"Because I figured you'd be terrified," Noctis replied.

"Terri – I wasn't scared!"

"Could have fooled me. Why'd he give you a gun?"

"So you could have a balanced Crownsguard, of course!" Prompto chirped.

"Didn't even let you try the broadswords, huh?"

"No," Prompto pouted.

They arrived at the shooting range. Noctis set Prompto in front of a target and stepped back.

Prompto stood still for a moment before turning around to face Noctis. "I've, uh, never actually fought anything before."

"It's a target," Noctis said, his tone amused. "I don't think it'll put up much of a fight."

"I know, I know, but how do you just…shoot something?"

Noctis shrugged. "I don't know. Pretend you're really mad at it."

"Mad, huh?" Prompto echoed, turning toward the target. What did he have to be mad about? The target was shaped like a hobgoblin of sorts. Maybe he didn't have to be mad at the enemy – maybe he could find something else to rile him up.

What, though?

Like mom and dad practically abandoning me, he thought suddenly. They're the reason I've always felt like nobody has ever wanted me.

He felt the barcode on his wrist itch underneath his bandana.

Like this stupid barcode, he continued. The gun was pointed toward the target now, but his hands were shaking. That I can't show to anybody, because it'll freak them out. Mom and dad know what it is. Why don't they tell me already? If it's something terrible, don't I deserve to know? Do they – do they even care enough to tell me?

"Dude, just shoot already," Noctis said sharply.

His voice shocked Prompto out of his reverie, and he found himself pulling the trigger. A sharp noise cut through the air as Prompto felt the gun recoil.

Noctis walked up to him. "Took you long enough." He looked at the target. "Head shot. Nice."

"Never miss!" Prompto chirped. Luckily, his voice didn't betray all of the intrusive thoughts that were still swimming around in his head.

"It was your first shot," Noctis said dryly.

"Yeah," Prompto said, aiming at the target once more, "but it's the first in a series of 'never misses.'"

"Sure." Noctis shrugged, getting out of the way. "Whatever you say."