SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for the entire Ignis DLC, also in the author's note below, so please don't read it if you haven't seen what's on it and don't want to be spoiled.

AN: I was given this awesome prompt by MysteriousBean. She wanted Prompto to wear the ring instead of Ignis. I hope I delivered. Merry Christmas, sugar! Thank you for this! I had more fun with it than I'd care to admit, lol. I hope it lives up to the expectations.

I wanted to make this badass and epic, so for a mood song for this, I'm asking that you'd please have Omnis Lacrima (from the game soundtrack) playing when instructed to do so. Because when that one starts playing in the game, you just know that shit just got real. :D It's a pretty lengthy scene, so please choose an extended version that you can just fade out later.

Warning: this is a deathfic. If that's not your cup of tea, well, you've been warned.

The Measure of a Man

He ran, the steadily nearing rumbles of the battle, sounds of explosions and the hum of the airships mixing into a cacophony of dread in his ears as his feet stomped the rain-soaked ground. Once or twice he almost slipped on the wet rock, regaining his balance in the nick of time before he was dashing again. He was panting, heavily, his side stinging with the lack of air, but he didn't care. He felt his legs growing heavier, but he forced them on still. With only one thought in his head, Prompto leaped over a half-collapsed fountain, passed a crashed airship, not sparing a glance at the burning craft.

He needed to get to Noct.

'Prompto. What's your location? Are you alright?' came Ignis' distressed voice from inside his ear.

"I'm… fine," the gunner panted out, not stopping. "I'm by the… by the port. Close to the altar." He let out a little yelp as his foot slipped from beneath him. Ignis' hasty 'what's wrong' was brushed off as Prompto swiftly corrected himself. "Nothing," the blond shook his head to the invisible voice. "Where're you guys?"

'I'm afraid I got separated from Gladio, but he should be headed your way,' concern was audible in the adviser's voice.

'Pro-to!' Gladio's static-induced voice cut through the both of them. 'I'm-the other side-dge-way's down. I-get there!'

"Come…come again?!" Prompto cried into the speaker, mentally cursing. "Couldn't… catch any of that, man!"

'Just keep-ing!'

"Gotcha," nodding determinedly as the voice was cut off, Prompto pushed himself to speed up. "Hang on, Noct…" he muttered under heavy exhales. The sting in his side had begun to burn, but Prompto refused to slow down. He needed to get to the altar, needed to make sure he was safe.

He was practically there already, the pillar of light was just behind these ruins. Then, something made him skid into a full halt as he heard a low, whimpering whine, and the small white form limped out from behind a stone. "Tiny?" The dog seemed to recognize him, for it wagged its tail ever so slightly as it took a couple more wavering steps before slumping to the ground; Prompto was on his knees next to it in a blink of an eye. "Tiny, what're you doing here?!" he slurred desperately as he ran a hand down the dirtied fur. "Why're you- ah?!"

The dog begun to glow a warm light, and he felt a tingling sensation in his fingers before a flash of luminance; his eyes squeezed shut against the brightness before-

The low chiming of magic reverberated along his nerves as he saw a figure dressed in the finest fabrics sitting on a throne, a shining light radiating from a ring the person wore on their finger. Floating in the void, Prompto recognized the name entering his consciousness – 'Noct?' – before a booming voice, an eternal voice, spoke, soft like a whisper, and yet all-consuming as it filled the emptiness,

'A power greater than even that of the Six, purifying all by the Light of the Crystal and the glaives of rulers past.'

There was Noct, but an older one, calling out a sword Prompto had never seen before; the raven slammed it into the ground and was suddenly surrounded by spirits. One by one, he watched how Noct took a blow after another as the immaterial blades struck him, not protesting, never once trying to stop it. The shine of the ring brightened after each individual coup de grâce.

'Only at the throne can the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life: his own. The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the darkness, but the blood price must be paid.'

Through a haze, Prompto saw how blades of pure starlight tore out of Noct's back, taking the shape of ethereal warriors, clashing into… 'No…!' Prompto knew that face. He detested that face! And yet, as the warriors of light tore into the ghastly appearance of Ardyn Izunia, Prompto felt nothing. Nothing but the emptiness.

'To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn's light will cost the life of the Chosen.'

He saw the four of them. Noct was crying as he looked at them. Ignis and Gladio, and Prompto himself, too. Just, why was he himself so different? The others looked different. Older. So why did Prompto still look the same way as he was now?

'Many sacrificed all for the King; so must the King sacrifice himself for all.'

Before him, Noctis disappeared into light before a spirit stood in front of him, a sword poised for a strike.

'Now enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within.'

Prompto was brought back as the blade impaled, leaving him gasping as the last of the mental images faded away. "Wha-what was that?!" he huffed as he dry-heaved a little. He had fallen onto all fours, his arms shaking. Forcing himself to sit, the blue gaze drifted back to the dog. Pryna laid on the ground, dead, and Prompto let out a deep sigh before brushing his hand over the mud-crusted fur. "Good girl…" he uttered sadly. "That's a good girl."

Gulping down his feelings, Prompto cast a farewell look at the dog before pushing himself back on his feet. Shoving the shakenness to the peripheries of his mind, the gunner sprung into jog, then full sprint as he made out a form standing by the light in the distance. Coming close, he recognized the white coat, the silver hair. The man must have heard him, but didn't turn to look at the blond.

"Noooct!" Prompto's steps slowed down into a lazy jog as he saw the couple lying on the ground. Lady Lunafreya's hand was on Noctis' shoulder, and the woman emanated an inviting, warm glow. She was smiling. They looked so peaceful, the two of them, lying together like that. If it weren't for the disturbing sight of the crimson, it would have been like they were just sleeping. Prompto was left staring, stupefied, before the shuffling of heavy fabrics next to him snapped him out of it.

Ravus's muttered words were mostly lost under the rain, but the sorrow pouring out of the man was almost tangible. Gulping, Prompto asked a bit hesitantly, "You… you're Lady Lunafreya's older brother, aren't you?" The hiss he received neither confirmed nor denied his claim.

"What do you care?!"

"I'm sorry." The commander turned to look at him with a look of puzzlement and loss, like he couldn't comprehend the reason for those words. The sight of blood brought a wave of nausea up the gunslinger's trachea; his voice was hoarse as he next spoke. "Lady Lunafreya, she… she was a good person," he offered, not knowing what else to say. It wasn't like he had actually known her, they had barely met. But Noct… Noct had cared for her, dearly.

Ravus must have heard him, for the heterochrome eyes widened a fraction before the silver-hair turned back to the two, but that was the only sign of recognition of his words the man gave out. When Ravus spoke, the words were not meant for Prompto.

"I always knew… that you would face your fate without fear, fulfil your duty without regret," he lamented as he kneeled next to Luna. His tainted angel. "But… part of me always hoped… that I might see you happy one day. Your burdens lifted, free to live and love as you please." He gently, gently turned her onto her back, his fingers brushing her chilled cheek. A humorless chuckle left him, "You would have made a beautiful bride." He swept the hairs aside, his soft gaze traced her features as if he was memorizing them; then, he picked her up into his arms, holding her like a fragile flower. "Even in death, the Oracle does not rest. Only once the darkness is dispelled is her calling truly fulfilled." As he spoke, Lunafreya's glow had intensified, sparkles of light rising up from her to dance in the sky. Prompto let out a stifled gasp of awe as the particles formed a figure into air.

"And, as in life, I know she will confront that challenge with a smile on her face." Lunafreya's ghost smiled at him with the warmth of the very Sun as it slid away; Ravus sprung up, trying to reach the fading light. "Sister… please, don't go." The man crumbled when she disappeared; all pride cast aside, he was left begging for her not to leave him, when it was already too late. Prompto could simply watch in morbid fascination, glued to the spot for a while as this stranger's grief petrified him. It was so raw, so honest, and Prompto almost forgot that this man was supposed to be his enemy. He knew loss, too, and despite all, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the silverette. After a short eternity, the blue gaze turned to the raven again, and he finally allowed himself to slump to sit next to him.

Noct seemed fine. Battered and looking like shit, but physically alright, just unconscious, and Prompto let out a long-held sigh of relief. A hand rose to his ear. "Iggy? Gladdy? Guys, I found him. He's alright," he spoke into the headset. The static was overpowering now, as it blared back into his ear; there was nothing coherent, just their warped voices now, and huffing in a peak of irritation, Prompto jerked the thing out of his ear, and tossed it away. "What a piece of junk!" He pondered sending them a message saying that Noct was alright, but he was sure they'd be here soon, anyway, they could just see for themselves. Letting his breaths even out, wincing a little at the sting in his side as the ache diminished, Prompto rambled absentmindedly at the unconscious form, "Pulled quite the stunt there, man… almost thought you were a goner." He sighed, then whispered, "Please don't do that again."

"Prompto!" Gladio's voice broke through his reverie.

"Gladio!" the gunner sprung up just in time as the shield reached them. "You OK, big guy? I totally lost you," he motioned towards his ear.

Gladio seemed like he hadn't even heard him, though. His attention now on something – someone – behind him; a shudder ran along the gunner's spine at a glint in those amber eyes, and he, too, turned to look at Ravus' hunched-over form. And his breath caught at the hunger in his voice as Gladio mused, "Well, well. What have we here?" The greatsword rose without hesitation.

Metal met metal with a piercing clang as the crushing strike was directed aside. Ravus was snarling, bottomless hatred darkening his voice, "You… Ardyn!"

"What?" Prompto mouthed disbelievingly, taking a subconscious step forward. "What did ya say?"

The shield smiled a twisted smile, cold, too sharp at the edges, as he simply backed away, letting his sword disappear in speckles of blue. "Oh, dear. Was I that transparent?" he asked amusedly as he brought his hand up, to take the hat off of Ardyn Izunia's head.

The mirage was shattered; the soldiers who had been hiding within the illusion charged forward, quickly surrounding them from all sides. Stunned by his shock, Prompto had barely time to react before the butt of a rifle was struck into his lower back. "Agh!" Pain flared across his torso, he fell onto his knees and was quickly pushed to the ground. His cheek scraped against the rough stone as his aim arm was forced into his back mercilessly.

"Let go of me!" He struggled against the weight holding him down. That only worked to worsen his predicament, however, when the iron grip slammed his temple against the ground, the impact leaving him disoriented for a moment as his head spun. It was difficult to breathe.

A single blue eye cracked open to look towards the sound of approaching - sauntering - footsteps, and Prompto gulped. Ardyn's haughty figure loomed above him, and the way he was looking at him made tremors run down the blond's spine. There was a promise in that masked malice. A promise of doom. "Yo-you!" the gunner barked, his voice strained yet defiant. "What.. are you- ugh!" He was cut off as the sole of Ardyn's shoe descended upon his vision. The threatening weight on his temple, Prompto froze, his teeth grit, his heartbeats drumming in his ears as he struggled to breathe. Prompto was left to glare daggers up at the man as the immortal spoke ominously,

"The game's up, my boy."

The last thing that registered before Prompto's world went dark was a blinding pain in his head.

When he came to, the first thing he knew was the odor. Smoke and gunpowder, mixed with musk, sweat and seawater. A ripple of alarm coursed through him as his predicament came rushing back at the unpleasant pull of his arm, the strain on his chest. The back of his head throbbed hotly, and low groan left him. There was a cooing voice, coaxing him sweetly, "Wakey-wakey." Forcing his eyes open, Prompto had to blink away the mist that clouded his vision, before his eyes landed on the glimmer dancing before him.

Prompto knew immediately that Ardyn Izunia and a dagger were a match made in hell. He gasped breathlessly at the sight of the steel, and his wide eyes strayed upwards; the dark appreciation in the look the demon gave him made his blood run cold with the creeping fear of death. He had to fight down the bile that threatened to rise into his mouth. And when the man spoke… It was almost funny, really; if it hadn't been for the blade in his hand, Prompto might have actually mistaken it to be a suggestion.

"Come now. Why bring yourself more strife when you could just be a good boy and stop resisting?"

The gunslinger's teeth grit at the condescending words; the blue gaze swept over to the unconscious form of Noct, lying ungracefully behind the chancellor. Rage, unlike any he had ever felt before, engulfed him. If Izunia thought that he was just going to let him hurt Noct, boy, he would be sadly mistaken. "Don't you dare touch him!" the blond snarled, struggling against the hold.

Izunia had the audacity to chuckle, "Such loyalty. For a prince so weak and incompetent. Your efforts have been for naught." Sauntering to Noctis, he crouched down next to him. "What good is the 'King of Kings' if he's not adequate to meet his calling? Why not end it all right here?" Ardyn glanced at the blond wickedly, as if making sure that he understood, before grabbing the raven by his collar.

"No… let go of him!" his voice shook with the sudden realization, his fury draining into desperation. "Don't!" The knife was raised for the strike. "Noooct!"

Ardyn barely flinched as the knife missed his head by mere inches. An amused smirk spread over his lips as he slowly turned to look at the commander. "My, you two certainly have become fast friends." Ravus was panting, his body still posed for the throw. Chuckling, the chancellor released the prince as he straightened himself gracefully. As Noctis' body was thrown back to the ground, Prompto saw a ring slip out from his palm.

If Ravus knew to expect the blast, he was lightyears too late to try to stop it. Prompto bit on his lip as he witnessed how the dark spell hit the silverette, sending him flying, before his gaze snapped back to the ring. It was the one from his vision. The guys had told him about it, the Ring of the Lucii. The power of the Crystal. So Noct had had it.

His attention was drawn to the despicable man as Izunia spoke, with deceptive sway in his tune, "Permit me to make a suggestion." Prompto wanted to spit out that he couldn't give less shit about any deal Izunia wanted to cut, but one glance at the raven was enough to hold his tongue. He didn't want to give this sadistic bastard any reason to hurt Noct. So, he played the part of a conquered captive; for now, stalling seemed to be his best bet.

"Rather than follow this flotsam and float away to a watery grave, why not come with me?" Ardyn mused, faking nonchalance as he eyed his fingernails in a bored way. "I could show you your true potential, take you to where you truly belong." 'What?' Prompto thought, baffled. The words made no sense to him, what did he mean, 'where he truly belonged?' He had a place, he knew exactly where he belonged!

"What do you say?" the chancellor slithered, and Prompto gulped. This man scared him, more than he had ever expected. But along with the anticipation, a new surge of defiance grew inside him. Fueled by the adrenaline, it coursed through his veins like a wildfire.

"What do I say?" Prompto hissed through grit teeth. "I say…"

The soldier that held his arm never stood a chance. The pistol materialized in the trapped hand, the barrel held upwards, and Prompto fired twice. As the restricting weight disappeared, before the others had time to react, Prompto pushed himself up from the ground. Three more shots rang out, and Prompto let his pistol go, only to call it back into his other hand, as the men fell behind him. Pointing the gun at the chancellor, he grunted,

"I say, bite me, that's what I say!"

Ignoring the threat, Ardyn bent down to take his hat from the ground. "My, you truly have potential. I am impressed," his voice dripped false flattery. There was a gunshot; Prompto's breath caught in his throat as the chancellor soon straightened right back up as if nothing had happened. "A feisty one, aren't you?" Ardyn smiled at the alarm written all over the blond's face. "But I'm sure we can manage that." The blond took a step back as the other came closer, before glancing at Noct again. Gulping, Prompto never let his gun go as he placed himself protectively in front of the prince. Ardyn laughed.

"And just how are you going to protect him, boy? Your weapons are no good for you." Taking a stalking step closer, Ardyn relished the panic in the other's demeanor. "What do you have left?"

He gasped loudly. His pulse thumping in his ears, Prompto tried to force his hand not to shake as he watched in growing terror how the man came closer. Feeling trapped, like a cornered animal, he backed away slightly, innately knowing that he had barely any room if he didn't want to stomp Noct. An instinct wanted to fire again, but he knew it would be in vain. A small 'chink' of metal on stone had his eyes widening, and suddenly, he knew what to do.

Ardyn halted as the young man sent his pistol back into the Armiger, and slowly crouched to pick something up from the ground. Glaring outward hatred at the man, Prompto declared stalwartly, "I am."

Prompto shoved the ring onto his finger.

The effect was instantaneous. It was like someone had poured liquid nitrogen into his veins. The ripping sensation of scorching and freezing at the same time tore out of his throat in a hoarse scream as his insides were being scalded. But even through the torment, the jingle of power clouded his mind as the feeling of floating came over him again. The world drifting into gentle, inviting darkness, Prompto could sense the presence – or perhaps his own presence, on a plain not meant for a mortal man – as the same deep, ageless voice pierced him,

'Who art thou to bear the Ring of Light, son of a common man? What seek thou, to sacrilege it so?'

Overwhelmed by the otherworldly power, Prompto hesitated, then remembered why he was doing this, "I… I need you to lend me your strength."

'Foolish mortal! The power of the ring belongs to the Chosen One. A filthy existence… thou art not worthy.' Prompto could feel the presence withdrawing.

"Please!" he begged. "I need to protect Noct! He, he's your king, right?! He needs me! Please... lend me your strength." There was a shift in the air, as if the entity he was addressing had become curious.

'… Thou art asking this of thy own free will.' Statement, not a question as Prompto felt his heart being weighed.

"I am."

'The power of the kings does not come without a sacrifice. What offer thou as a price?'

"Price…?" Prompto was taken aback. Suddenly finding himself hesitating, his mind raced: an anticipation had grasped his heart, holding it in a frosted grip. He had a hunch what was being implied, but his courage to see it through, it was wavering. Steeling himself, the blond made his decision. "Anything. I'll do anything. Just, please…" his voice faded as he felt the air growing more oppressive.

The entity took a moment, as if to consider his offer. Then,

'Very well. The contract is forged. The ring is now thine to control.' The presence was drifting away, but before it was gone, Prompto whispered,

"Thank you."

(Please have Omnis Lacrima starting here.)

Ardyn observed with delight how the kid fell onto his knees, holding his head as a bloodcurdling cry of agony tore out of his throat as the purple-and-blue flames engulfed him. "Oh, be careful not to hurt yourself," he mocked. "That might not have been the smartest trick to pull."

Prompto's skin was cracking like dried-up desert, the skin of his arms and cheeks coming off in flakes, the raw power of the ring scorching the flesh as it coursed through him. Prompto's fingers clawed his scalp, the nails drawing blood, desperately looking for a release of that unbearable pain that felt like he was being incinerated alive.

And suddenly, it diminished. The pain subsided: still there, but as if cast aside. In place of it was the sensation of power, supreme power, spreading through him like a storm. Drawing breath in voracious gasps, Prompto leaned his weight onto one leg to pull the other under him, then the other before he slowly, precariously, stood up.

An annoyed snort left the immortal as he watched, a bit bewildered, how the kid – this bastard son of Besithia, this tool – rose back onto his feet. The ring's power coursing through him, now in compliance with him… it had accepted him!

"…You! How did someone like you manage to master it?!" he snarled. All the reply Ardyn received was a heated, vengeful glare as the youth's eyes opened, to read him the silent challenge in the piercing, purple orbs, before Prompto disappeared in a flash. The immortal snorted lightly. This had just become more interesting than he had expected. "Well then…" Moving himself within inches of the boy in a blink, he took delight in the horrified expression that flashed over the kid's face. "Shall we dance?" Before Prompto had time to overcome his stupor, the chancellor had already cast the spell.

It hit him into stomach. A strangled cry left him as he was sent rolling in the ground for a good few feet before he managed to brake it. The pistol found its way back into his hand as he stumbled up again, and firing in quick succession, he emptied the entire magazine, each carefully placed bullet finding their mark.

That's why his heart sunk a little as the chancellor still seemed not bothered. Grunting, the blond let the gun go as the maroon-haired menace's condescending chuckle broke through the white noise of the rain, "I recall informing you that, unfortunately, your weapons are no good for you." Ardyn flashed him a demonic smirk, "I guess you're really not the sharpest 'tool' in the shed, are you?"

Something about the way he said that made Prompto gulp. He really hadn't thought this through. But as his gaze drifted towards where Noctis was lying farther away, the gunner grit his teeth as he reached out into the Armiger. Hand-to-hand wasn't his strongest suit. But it would have to be good enough. Prompto was already dashing as the dual-daggers materialized. Charred flakes floated up with the warm currents of magic as blade clashed with blade.

"I hope this isn't the best you can do," Ardyn sneered at him as they locked eyes over the grinding steel. "Otherwise, this will be over quickly."

"Plenty of more where that came from!" Prompto spat back as he kneed the chancellor into abdomen. As the blow had the man bent over, Prompto slashed at his side. He grinned darkly at the enraged bark he received before the chancellor warped farther. "Oh, no you don't," he muttered to himself as he blinked after him, both daggers raised for an attack.

Sparks flew off of his weapon as Ardyn's sword collided with it heavily, and Prompto grunted as he fought to push the strike aside. The next slash came quickly; in flowing movement, he had barely enough time to block it, then the next one, and the next as steel rained upon him. Finding himself being pushed back, Prompto warped farther, then sprung again, leaping into the air in a high jump.

Landing into a crouch, his weapons met thin air as Izunia disappeared, only to reappear just next to him. Prompto knew to expect it, though, and saw the sting coming. Crossing the daggers beneath Ardyn's blade, he directed the strike aside, using the momentum to land a swift kick into the man's side. It threw the chancellor out of balance for long enough for Prompto to strike again: a clean cut that caught his right arm. The blond grinned smugly as the other fell on his knees.

The immortal let out an irritated hiss, the amber of his eyes darkening with the bloodlust as he coolly straightened himself up, a blade rising to meet the incoming strike, confidently, as if the man had foreseen it. With what seemed like miniscule effort, Izunia grabbed the blond by the throat and threw him into the ground. Air escaped the youth's lungs, and momentarily, Prompto's vision swam with the vertigo. There was the glint of silver in the air, and the dagger met the descending steel inches from his head, the blond pressing against the crushing force with both hands. Ardyn laughed above him, "Was that it then?! Frankly, I'm disappointed. And here I had always held such high hopes for you."

Grunting, Prompto felt the pressure as his back was pressed tighter into the ground. The sword above him tipped closer dangerously, and he knew that he was running out of time, fast. An instinct told him what to do, and with a well-aimed kick into the man's gut, the tension disappeared for a moment long enough for Prompto to roll out of the way as the sword met the ground where he had been less than a second ago. Slicing blindly, the blond backed away, cherishing the gruff yelp of pain as the blade tore into something solid. Not wasting this chance, Prompto dived in again, the dagger poised to sink into the chancellor's throat.

Prompto let out a stifled gasp as his wrist was caught mid-strike. An unguarded yelp left him as he was sent flying, his weight slamming into the ground, knocking the air out of him a little. Groaning, the blond drew air in shallow, rapid gasps, fighting the dizziness as he peered out for his enemy. Izunia was nowhere to be seen, and his heart beat double-time in worry. He clambered up, calling both daggers back again, and standing in guard, he waited. He knew what the chancellor was doing, and waited for the moment the man made his move. The glowing gaze swept the stones, looking for the tiniest movement, expecting to see the heinous sight at any moment.

The faintest jingle behind him was his only clue; on instinct, Prompto crystallized mid-movement, meeting the incoming strike half-way. A fresh bead of dark blood trailed from the long wound on his cheek as the two pairs of eyes again locked over the groaning steel. The arrogant smirk on Ardyn's face faltered as Prompto pushed against his blade, both daggers twisting it to the side. Gathering his strength, the boy shoved against the weight, throwing the other off-balance as his sword was directed aside. The force of it left the chancellor open for a split-second; a split-second the Prompto was determined to take advantage of.

The force of the counter threw the blond off a bit, the shockwave tearing into his arm painfully as it traveled up his tortured flesh. Izunia's blade seemed to float in the air, like one of Noct's weapons would if he willed it to. The man wasn't even touching it! Prompto hopped back, holding his weapons at ready, his focused glare fixed on the chancellor. Instead of attacking, though, Ardyn let the blade disappear - only to have it respawning to circle around him, as a part of a version of the Armiger; the man spread his arms theatrically. "It occurred to me, I've never properly introduced myself," Ardyn smiled at him coyly. "Ardyn Lucis Caelum. I guess I could say that your dear prince and I go way back."

"Ca-Caelum?" the blond slipped out. A mistake, he understood, as he took in the dark pleasure on the other's expression.

"Yes. Rings a rather fond bell, now doesn't it?"

Prompto snorted angrily. "Whatever you're planning, I won't let you!" he spat as he stepped to stand between the prince and the chancellor again.

Prompto couldn't help the quiet gulp at the menacing chuckle that reverberated in that dangerous man's throat. "How touching. A devoted Crownsguard, sacrificing himself for his dear friend."

"I don't care!"

"Oh, but I think you should." The blond let out a surprised yelp as the man was suddenly right in front of him. Sparks flew from his dagger as it ground against the other's steel. "Think about it this way: do you truly believe that he would do the same for you?"

"Of- of course, he would!" Prompto grunted as the blade pressed against his more firmly, forcing him to bend backwards a little.

"Y-you don't know… anythin'... about Noct!"

"Oh, I believe it is quite the opposite. I've waited for him for eons, watched him grow. And now," the smirk on Ardyn's face turned ugly, "I'm going to watch him suffer, as he mourns over your lifeless husk."

"Shut up!"

Dropping to the ground, Prompto dived underneath it, slashing at the chancellor's legs but catching nothing as Izunia moved behind him. A searing pain erupted in his back as he was thrown forward from the force of the slash, and the throbbing across his shoulder blade made him see stars for a moment. An instinct had him disappearing in the nick of time as he heard the swish of steel slicing through air again; he spun around, daggers held defensively in front of him as Ardyn circled him, looking a lot like a predator closing in on its prey despite the casual façade. Panting, Prompto observed him keenly. The fresh pain in his back throbbed along with his pulse, but the blond did his best to push it aside as he waited, weighing his chances. Dammit, was this still not good enough? No, he couldn't afford to think like that! Noct needed him. He needed to do this. He had to.

"Giving up so soon?" Ardyn almost purred at him as he struck again, a slow cleave meant to taunt, not to hurt. Seeing his chance, now or never, Prompto moved inside the cut. Using the dagger in his outer hand to block Ardyn's blade, his free hand slashed a long, deep gash into the man's chest.

He saw the gush of black as his body lurched forward, and the grunt of genuine pain had his heart leaping. Encouraged, he raised the blade again. Blinking behind the man, Prompto plunged the dagger hilt-deep into Ardyn Izunia's back, where his heart should have been.

A stifled 'ugh' was the only sound Izunia made as he dropped onto his knees, then, after a small moment, slumped forward, the dagger still buried into his flesh. Prompto panted heavily, eyeing the man with scrutiny, expecting him to rise back up again at any second. But as the form stilled, Prompto finally took a few staggering steps back, letting the weapons go as he, too, fell onto his knees. He was left gasping, out of pain, out of exhaustion; his gaze on his shaking hands, he fought the vomit as the condition of his body sunk in.

The skin of his arms had blackened where the ethereal flame danced upon his flesh, the charred skin coming off in tiny specks before crumbling into ashes before his eyes. A shaking hand rose to try the burning on his face, the touch sending jolts of pain over his scalp and down his neck. He felt the ring's enchantment beginning to wane, and the pain was slowly pushing back through. Gritting his teeth, the maroon gaze went to the unconscious raven, and with a strained grunt, Prompto forced himself to move.

The shuffling of his feet on the stone masked the other movement behind him, the gentle rustle of fabric.

Izunia was in front of him in a flash, and Prompto had time for exactly one heartbeat and a small gasp before the dark spell struck him, sending him skidding on the stone, the friction tearing into his shoulder wound like repeated whiplashes. The pain had him reeling, and when he heard the slumping footsteps reaching him, the panic forcing his eyes open, Prompto had just enough strength left to summon one feeble dagger. A flimsy defense that was swiftly kicked aside.

The searing agony tore across his left side, erupting in a hoarse wail, as Izunia pushed the sword into his shoulder, the tip sinking into the ground. On instinct, Prompto reached out to grab the wound, trying to ease the burning. Above him, hunched over and holding his injured chest, Ardyn heaved heavy gasps as he sneered down at the pinned man, "Well, I admit that was a flummoxing feat," Ardyn slithered with self-satisfaction. "For a moment there, I almost thought I felt the death's chill wind. But, now, I think it's time for you to end." A crushing weight landed onto Prompto's ribcage, knocking the air out of him a little and almost fracturing bone as the boot ground into him. Gasping out, the blond struggled to breathe, desperate fingers clawing into to boot to alleviate the strangling pressure.

"I'll be sure to tell your dear prince you said 'hi'." His eyes wide, the boy extended a trembling arm, like he was trying to reach something. "What're you doing?" Ardyn snorted, perplexed. The amber eyes widened a little as the gun materialized, and at point-plank, Prompto fired.

The shot hit the chancellor right between his eyes. With an overwhelmed shout of agony and disbelief, the man fell backwards, stilling as the black liquid slowly trailed down his forehead. The blade disappeared as smoke and speckles begun to rise from his body, and a sloppy smirk ghosted over his features. Drawing in air like it was the first time, Prompto forced himself to sit up. His gaze, laced with desperation, rested on the chancellor as the man fixed him with a knowing look,

"'The best laid plans', eh? It may have eluded me for now, but rest assured: I shall have my revenge." Ardyn rested his head against the ground, his eyes sliding shut, an inkling of a smile gracing his features as his body begun to vaporize. "I shall wait for dear Noct… in the beyond." And he was gone, the speckles carried out into the wind as the last whisper of a dark chuckle made shudders run down the gunner's spine.

Gasping, Prompto turned over onto all fours, each movement, each jerk of his drained body was asking for too much as the pain slowly seeped back into his every cell. Raising his head, the gunner grit his teeth as he felt the ring's power leaving him, and focused to gather enough to warp to the raven. With a loud cry, he slumped to the ground next to him, stilling as the shine of the ring faded, the agony replacing the strength.

(Music fadeout if still playing)

The pain was unimaginable. His entire body burned, strained beyond humane limits, black and silver scarring littered the scalded flesh. Faintly he recognized the trailing sensation as something sticky ran down his left side, and warm droplets begun to pool under his left arm. His hoarse breaths were labored, each shallow intake hard-earned and scraping against his abused throat; he could hear the steady beats in his ears growing weaker. The wavering gaze shifted on and off focus as Prompto watched in terror how charred pieces of skin were carried out by the wind, and it begun to dawn that he was dying. 'I see… so that's why I looked this way,' he thought, eyes trailing over to the unconscious raven. At least Noct was safe. Thinking about it like that, Prompto found that the thought of dying wasn't so bad, not if it meant that Noct lived. A shuddering, pained sigh left him; he would have wanted to talk to the raven one more time, though. As the other's features wavered on his retinae, Prompto's heart stung with loneliness. Was it selfish to wish Noct were there for him, now? Now, he'd be all alone… his eyes slid closed for a moment. Darkness pulled on his mind, coaxing him with the sweet promise of oblivion. The gentle release from all this suffering. It was coming for him; why delay the inevitable? All Prompto needed to do was just to sleep, sleep…

"Noct! Prompto!" Like from somewhere far away, Ignis' frightened voice reached him, and through haze he made out the running steps; the blond cracked his eyes open.

"Prom!" Gladio was above him, and Prompto felt himself being turned onto his back, the movement drawing another groan of pain at the strain. "'The hell happened here?!"

"A-Ar-dyn," he started, but his voice faded into a whine. "F-fought'em…"

"Be still," Ignis told him sternly. "Don't talk. Conserve your strength." The brunet slammed a Hi-potion onto the youth's chest, and the cool glimmer danced around the fading figure, but did hardly anything to mend the damage. It might have eased the pain, for the grimace on the blond's face softened, but the adviser's breath caught as the jade eyes took in the condition of the gunner. To his shame, Ignis had to look away, with a small hiss, as he understood that no potion would be enough.

"Prompto…" As if it was something he had to do reluctantly, Ignis turned to look at him again, his eyes landing on the ring on his finger; mouth hanging slack, the strategist shook his head in disbelief.

"…What the hell were you thinking?!" Gladio growled, pain laced with the harshness; the shield's fist clenched. The youngest opened his mouth to answer, but it was gone as a small fit of coughing seized him.

"I-I…"

"… Prom?" Three pairs of eyes drifted towards the voice, the blue set slower than the other two.

"Noct…"

Noctis was scampering onto all fours, shock, terror and disbelief twisting his features as he blinked at the sight before him, as if trying to coax himself to wake up from a nightmare; Ignis was there to help him up, the raven all but slumping against him as his strength failed him. The adviser guided him gently, setting him down by the slipping blond.

"Prom?!" Noct gasped, his eyes running over the blackened flesh, the blood littering his upper body. His bottom lip trembled. "…Why?!" he whispered, the intense blue catching the ring on the other. "Why would you do that, dumbass?!" a sob mixed into his voice as he met the other's gaze. "Why would you…?" his voice faded, lost to him in some dimension beyond his reach. Prompto blinked, and the raven tried not to pay attention to how his eyes remained closed a fraction of a second longer each time they slid shut.

The chapped lips cracked an exhausted grin. "I'snothin'…" Prompto felt his upper body being lifted, and seeked out the desperate gaze of the other. "Hey. You-you'll make… a great king… one day… man."

"What're you talking about?!" Noct all but hissed desperately, his heart clenching. "You're gonna be there with me! Don't you dare do this!"

A raspy chuckle scratched his throat, and Prompto shook his head just once. "I… I got to… to try tha' warp thing, though. 'Twas… pretty neat." He smiled a sad smile as his eyes slid closed, and although the lids fluttered, he didn't open them again. The knot in Noctis' stomach tightened.

"Prompto?! Prom, don't!" Looking at the others, the prince cried desperately, "Do something! Help him! We must have… some potions or something?! Help him!"

"Noct…" Ignis sounded fragile as he grabbed the prince's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. The raven was already about to snap something at him, but the words stuck into his throat as it registered that, eyes screwed shut and facing away, Ignis was crying. Gladio was pinching the bridge of his nose, teeth grit in a snarl as a bead ran down his cheek, too.

"No… No! We can't let him just-! Prom, wait! Don't… don't go," Noctis rambled, a frosted ball of iron settling into his stomach at the given-up expressions of his friends. This couldn't be how… He wouldn't allow it, he- "Prom…"

As he watched, the breaths of the blond got shallower and shallower. Clutching his shoulder, Noctis growled lowly, "Prom…" Soon, the gunner breathed his last, and it was like a withheld breath of the world during which Noctis could feel him slip away, and then it was just the three of them.