It happened a long time ago, in empty halls, empty rooms, and a capsule of some kind. He remembered it when he fell out, gasping for air, his skin slick with whatever substance was in the capsule. His limbs were weak, numb, and he was hefted to his feet by two guards that were covered in armour.
A man stood in front of him, his eyes wide with adoration, he spoke to him, but the words were lost. And then he was dragged from the room, taken away into another where he was examined for hours. They looked in his eyes, marked his skin, poked his veins, and left him alone inside a room. Sleep came too easy, his body was still, and everything else he couldn't explain.
Weeks past, at least he thought so, and he was given the same armour as the guards, weapons heavy in his hands as he trained, the guns were easy to use after awhile, it was muscle memory, he could figure out a weapon with just touching it. They trained him in a hand-to-hand combat with people who looked like him, they were strained looking men with the same blond hair, and blue eyes. Except they were different from him, he knew they were different, or maybe he was different.
"He's defective," one of the men in white coats said to the older man he first saw when he was taken out of the capsule. He kept forgetting his name, he didn't even know the name of this place, or where he truly was.
"What do you mean he's defective?" the man asked, his ire obvious in his voice.
The man trembled, his voice stuttered. "He's...He's...He might need a more extensive evaluation, his combat has been sloppy, and he's asking questions."
"Questions," the man said, incredulous, his gaze falling on him. "Take him back to reconditioning, I don't want a defective weapon."
Was he defective? He didn't know what that meant, he didn't know what the doctor was talking about. Did he ask questions? Was his combat really sloppy? He couldn't remember, everything in this facility was blurring the lines between what he knew and what he didn't know.
He was taken back to this room where all he could hear in his ears was his screaming. He didn't know it was going to be painful, or the images were going to be seared in his mind. His tremor's didn't stop for months after that, and he kept going back to training, trying to be better, trying to be less defective.
But it was clear that he was and he tried his hardest not to be. He went back to the evaluations, he said what he had too, just so they don't know that he's defective, he knew that in someway they would get rid of him, and he wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Then it happened, on that day things changed, a mutiny of some kind and everyone was gone, and his heart raged in his chest as he ran through the halls. His mind said go back, report in what was happening, kill the people who were causing this. He couldn't, he grabbed a weapon and left the building. He didn't know where he was going, he was never let out of the building before, and seeing the night sky with its speckled stars, he gasped at the beauty of this kind of darkness.
But he couldn't look for too long, and he ran until he was far away. Not exactly out of the building's perimeter, but far enough for him to take off his armour.
"Hey," someone called, and he looked, it was the scientists from the facility and they were in some kind of vehicle. "Come here."
He shook his head, about to flee, he didn't know what this person wanted from him.
"I can get you out of Niflheim."
What was Niflheim?
The man looked, gritting his teeth, "Hurry up, or they're going to find you and take you back to reconditioning."
He recalled the pain, his throat hoarse from screaming, and he didn't think twice of running over to the vehicle and climbing into the back. There were others, doctors or scientists from the facility, all packed into the vehicle.
"Why do we have to bring him?" One of the men asked, his gaze trembling at the sight of him. "He's one of them….their weapon."
"He escaped," the man who asked him to come with them spoke, "he made his choice."
He didn't know if he talked, but they seem to look at him, and they nodded.
"We're leaving Niflheim."
He tilted his head, his mouth opened, but he couldn't hear the words, and he saw their expressions. Confusion, doubt, suspicion.
"You don't know what Niflheim is?" the man beside him asked. "I guess they wouldn't tell you anything about the countries. If you're curious, I might as well relay the entire history and what is going on, and the reason why we left."
And so for the long ride through Niflheim, they managed to escape. He asked where they were going, and for a bit, they were hesitate on telling him. So he stayed quiet, he didn't know how he was going to get them to trust him.
"Lucis," one of the scientist said, they had parked by a station where they were putting fuel into the vehicle several days later. She sat beside him as they ate chips and drank water. "The Kingdom of Lucis, that's where we're going. We're hoping to smuggle our way into their crown city Insomnia, but it might take some time. No one enters that city unless verified first."
He didn't exactly know what that meant, but they spent a long time driving until they came to a stop.
"We're in Lucis," one of the men said, the same one who didn't trust him, "we'll need new ID cards, and…" he looked at him, his brows pinched, "I'm guessing this will be your second identification, but instead of a barcode, you'll have your own name. Be proud you made it this far."
He looked down and smoothed his finger over the barcode inside his wrist. It allowed him to enter different areas of the facility, and they scanned them whenever they made their rounds. In case someone went missing. It was the only thing that came with him, and the only thing that will stay with him for as long as he lived.
They ate out of cans, mostly beans and fruit, and drank water and sometimes juice. He learned more about the rival kingdoms, and he also learned more about himself. He knew what he was, an MT soldier for the military of Niflheim, but he didn't know the extent of it. That they were conditioned to be expendable, orphans growing up with each other, but knowing only one thing. They will die serving a kingdom that saw them as nothing, but clones of Verstael Besithia. He hadn't gone to the point that a daemon was fused into him, and he shivered at the implication that it could've happened already.
"Don't worry, you're fine. They only experiment on soldiers who have matured, and from what I can tell, you're about fourteen-fifteen years old," the man said, the same one who saved him.
For the first time since leaving the facility, he felt a strange overwhelming feeling that made something come from his eyes. He blinked, and the man next to him smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's alright, you can cry, it'd be good for you."
Since then, he stayed with the scientists for maybe a year before they received their new ID's. They had gone back into this dark room and these men snapped their pictures, he had stared at the cameras before being pulled out of the room.
"Are you sure about this?" one of the scientists asked, his brows furrowed as he looked between the others and the new people who were standing to the side. They were debating on what they were going to do and how they were going to enter Insomnia. He stayed sitting on a couch, watching, listening, and hoping something would come of it.
"Yes," said a man in a grey shirt, a hand running through his short hair. He had taken their pictures, and was developing their ID's. "It's the best I can do. It'll be easy for this kid to get in, no one will suspect anything, but he needs a good cover story."
"We can act as his parents," one of the female scientists said, holding a piece of paper in her hand as she looked between the others. "It's the only way we can get in, and he can be verified."
"Fine." One of the men turned an uneasy look at him before giving the paper to the woman.
The woman smiled and walked over to him, she passed him the paper. "This is your new ID."
He took the paper from her and looked down. His picture was there, a frowning male with blonde hair and blue eyes. His name was beside it and he stared at it for a long time.
"Prompto Argentum," she said, "is who are from now on."
"Prompto…is who I am," he spoke softly, he felt the same overwhelming feeling but he didn't shed any tears. He hugged the woman instead and she held him for as long as they could before they were called upstairs.
He was told the basics of what they were supposed to do inside Insomnia. It was almost like reconditioning with all the same questions, but there was no pain, only resolution. He had to remember everything he was supposed to say, everything he was meant to do, and not draw any suspicion.
He was given two leather bracelets to cover his barcode. Now that he was someone else, he had to forget the person he was, the person that grew up in the facility, and ran away from it for a better future.
Then the word came back before the night they were meant to leave for Insomnia. He was sleeping on the floor and looking at his barcode.
"Defective," he said.
"Is that what they called you?" one of the scientists asked, he was the one who had called him to the van, the one who gave him an escape. "Maybe it's good that you're defective."
He didn't know if he could take it as a good thing, but he tried. And when the sun rose, they shook him awake and he rushed to the van. They repeated the same words they said the night before, and he nodded.
For the first time in awhile, besides the tears, he smiled. He had a reason to smile, because now he was creating a future for himself inside Insomnia's borders.
They drove and drove until the sun had risen higher into the horizon and then they were there. Their ID's were scanned, and his heart raced, afraid this wouldn't work the way they had said, but they were let in, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
The city was unlike anything he has ever seen before. It was bright, brilliant, and strange all at the same time. He loved it, it was a different kind of chaos he wasn't used too. They drove him to a house and they waved goodbye to the other scientists. He hugged the one who had saved his life, the one who gave him a chance.
The woman lead him into the house and they explored its halls and rooms. It took some time for them to get adjusted, but it was good. He laid on his new bed, inside his new room, and he smiled in the dark, but his thoughts went back to the barcode.
He rubbed his finger over it, wishing it to fade away. He knew it was the only thing that will lead him back to Niflheim, but no one in Lucis needed to know that.
"I'm defective," he said, quietly, and he slept on that thought. He dreamed of Niflheim, the halls, the lights in his eyes, the scanning of his barcode, even the pinpricks of their needles in his skin. He was a part of them, every inch of their facility was his body, his mind. The soldiers who didn't escape all stood in line inside a large room about to be deployed into battle. And he stood at the end, with his new clothes on, and his new perception on life, and all of them turned their heads at him with their eyes shining red.
He woke up with a start, his heart racing in his chest. He trembled and felt guilt weighing him down. He didn't sleep well for the next few days, not until his mother gave him a camera.
"You need a hobby," she said, passing him the camera, "it'd be good for someone your age to be interested in photography."
His father sat at the table, reading a newspaper, "We've also registered you into a school, so in a week you'll be with other people, blending in, experiencing a normal life."
Normal life. That was good, he hoped it was good. So he smiled and he took his camera upstairs, and he dreamed of a normal life.
Then the day came when he was in his uniform and his mother encouraged him to make friends. He was nervous, he didn't know what friends were, or what they were supposed to do. So he went, and his nerves rang in his body, but his hands went to his camera and he calmed down.
Weeks past, and it was when he noticed him.
His breath caught, his eyes widening, and he hid behind a tree as he walked by. He knew who that was, the scientists had told them who he was, everything about him. But he didn't know that he would be going to school with him.
The Crown Prince of Lucis—Noctis Lucis Caelum.
"I hope I'm not scaring you."
He gritted his teeth and tilted his head to the side, peeking around the tree. He stood on the sidewalk, facing him, with a smile on his lips, and his hands on his hips.
"I'm Noctis," he introduced.
"I...I know."
"Are you a photographer?" Noctis asked, pointing at his camera.
He swallowed his nerves, "I'm not really sure...I haven't done anything with it yet."
"You can take pictures of me, if you want."
He frowned, "You want me to take pictures of you? Why?"
Noctis shrugged. "I don't know."
Prompto raised the camera and pressed down on the button, the camera flashed. He walked over to Noctis and showed him the picture, Noctis smiled.
"See, I can be your muse. What's your name?"
He raised his eyes at him, and the word echoed inside his head—defective—but instead of cowering under that implication, he smiled, because even though he might be defective, he was more now because of it.
"Prompto...Prompto Argentum."