—

As much as Aranea was loath to admit it, Loqi did actually seem to know where he was going. The maze-like route, despite its indirectness, never led them into a dead-end. Their progress across the city was slow, but it was progress, much to Ignis' obviously growing unease.

Again, the guy was great at keeping his facial expressions under control, but he had less of a handle on the set of his shoulders. He was seriously starting to worry now. Before she'd seen him observing every angle, looking for any chance to turn things in his favor, but Loqi pushing on so confidently despite the setbacks was concerning him. That and his element of surprise with his weapons was gone.

Oh, Ignis was smart, but he'd made a mistake. He should have run as soon as he'd knocked out Biggs. He'd be free right now if he had.

"Excellent," Loqi said as they reached a wall with more of that graffiti on it. The graffiti was directly above a dumpster, and Loqi motioned to Biggs and Wedge. "Move that–"

Loqi was cut off by a Glaive landing atop the dumpster with a loud thud, an envelope in hand. "No need." The Glaive hopped to the ground, pulling off his hood. He smirked at Ignis and then at Loqi. "Have some trouble earlier?"

"Luche." Ignis' tone was laced with disgust. "So, you're involved with this as well."

Huh. So Loqi had more than one source in the city.

Aranea instinctively laid a hand between Ignis' shoulder blades, trying to calm him as he looked about ready to rush the Glaive even with his hands tied. She doubted he would anyway, but still.

Luche mockingly bowed, then handed the envelop to Loqi. "The General isn't pleased with how you handled events earlier."

Loqi scowled. "I can assure you, it was not planned."

"Well, improvise better," Luche snapped. "The rest of the Glaive is more determined to find you than ever – the Lucian public is an uproar over the Empire killing a civilian in cold blood. They're actively trying to find you now."

"All the more reason for us to keep moving–"

"No. You're to reach the point on that map and stay put until dark."

Sensible. Why was that a change in plans? Why hadn't that been the plan to start with?

"You would have us take our leave of the city in the dead of night?" Loqi demanded. "What of the daemons?"

Luche rolled his eyes. "You'll take your leave of the city at dawn. You'll cross most of the city at night. The usually unpopulated areas you were supposed to use have been flooded with Lucians searching for you now."

Oh, right. Aranea almost snorted. They didn't want to leave the city during the night. Normally, she'd get that, but they knew how close her ship was. Did Loqi really not think they'd be able to make it that far? Amateur.

"Then what alternate route are we supposed to use?" Loqi questioned.

Luche rolled his eyes again. "It's all in the envelope. Just follow the instructions. You be at the gate at dawn, and we'll have the diversion ready. Now scram."

Dammit. The Empire must have really wanted the information Ignis had in his head to go to this much planning to get him. At this point, there wasn't a lot that anyone could do to make sure it wouldn't succeed. The Lucians were good, but if the Empire had enough people in their ranks to create a diversion that would let Loqi slip out of the city…

There wasn't much hope left for Ignis at this point. They were only a few hours from the edge of the city.

Again, Aranea looked to Biggs and Wedge and reminded herself why she had to go along with this.

Him or them.

Those were her only choices.

An office building.

That was where they were supposed to hide out until nightfall. Again, Aranea hated what a good plan it was. Given the amount of time it had taken them to get here, the staff had already left. The building was empty, but in a populated living area. Not somewhere the Glaive would expect them to be. And it also severed another purpose – a view of most of the city from its glass-walled offices.

Loqi chuckled deeply, standing with his arms spread out as he stood in the evening sun. "Do you see this, Lucian? This city… it will be such a spectacular sight once it's under Imperial rule. And you will be the one to help us make it that way."

With her hold on his arm, Aranea could feel Ignis' pulse race beneath her gloved fingers. His gaze was fixed on one part of city in particular – the very close, very visible gate. His tight expression melted then, giving way to resignation as he whispered, "You'll gain no information from me…"

His eyes no longer carried the fire it had before, and Aranea almost wanted to slap him. He couldn't accept that torture was the only path open to him now – it wasn't right.

Beside her, Wedge's hands balled into fists.

Astrals… Was saving them even worth it if they were going to have to live with this? She knew them, and she knew one thing absolutely for sure at the moment: the only reason they were still going along with this was because she was.

Noctis panted, stumbling to a stop and resting his hands on his knees as his forehead dripped sweat onto the ground. He didn't give Prompto enough credit for doing this every day. Noctis had brought a jacket to avoid being as cold as this morning, but now he was just dying of heat stroke at the same time his lungs were screaming in rebellion to each icy breath.

He was not a runner, but he couldn't just warp everywhere.

Yanking down the zipper, Noctis took off his jacket, tying the sleeves around his waist instead. He had to keep going.

Gladio always had said he just needed proper motivation to train harder. Well, he'd found motivation, all right, and he wasn't giving up any time soon.

For once in their lives, Ignis needed him. Noctis wasn't going to let him down like he had the last million times. If he failed this time, Ignis wouldn't be there with a scowl and an exasperated sigh. He wouldn't be there at all. Ever.

Noctis growled, summoning and hurling his sword.

Ignis was a genius. He'd figure out some way to delay until they could get to him, right?

If there was anything Noctis knew about his friend, it was that he was stubborn. Ignis would never just lie down and die.

Aranea sighed, leaning against the vending machine in the hallway as she decided what she wanted to get. Biggs, Wedge, and Loqi had all scattered around the floor they were on for various reasons, leaving just her and Ignis near office S21, which seemed to have the best view of the city from what Aranea had seen. Ignis was staring at that view now, completely silent as he sat with his back resting against the small wall separating rooms S21 and S22. Well… resting as best he could with his arms still tied behind his back.

The open doorway sat between them, and it felt like an actual divide. On one hand, Aranea was reluctant to pull him into another conversation and learn more about him, but watching him crane his neck so he could rest his head against the wall and stare longingly around the corner at the city while the sun went down was honestly almost as bad.

His fire was completely gone. Sometime between meeting that Glaive and now, it had just started to drain. Maybe when he realized just how many of the people he thought were his allies were actually helping sell him out.

"You want anything from here?" Aranea asked him before she could stop herself. Well, she was going to have to hit Wedge up for a little of the money she'd seen him rob from a register earlier anyway, so why not grab the guy something?

Ignis didn't even blink, continuing to stare out at the sunset as its gold-red hue encased the city. "No, thank you."

"You sure? We probably won't stop again. I could hang onto it for later." Oh, well, that was great. Enforce the fact that they were one step away turning him over to the Empire.

"I'd rather my last meal be something of more substance than four hundred calories wrapped in two bites of fake chocolate, if you don't mind," he said dryly. "The pasta earlier will keep me sustained long enough."

Yeesh. He got even sassier when he wasn't giving it effort. "…Right." She looked back at the machine, wishing it spat out options instead of carbs.

Dammit. Dammit it all.

She really wanted to hit something. Like Loqi. Or spear something with her lance. Like Loqi.

"I don't blame you, you know."

She blinked, sharply turning her gaze back to him. He still had his eyes locked on the city, but he was talking to her.

He licked his lips. "Perhaps I'm naive, but it seems to me that Loqi has you captive just as much as me. You aren't afraid of him, but you fear for your comrades and what your refusal to comply could cost them, no?"

She let her silence be her answer.

"It's all right," he said, his voice only just above a whisper. "I understand. Truly."

Son of a… just stop. This was making things worse. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I see your conflict, and I thought it best said before we part ways. After all, I don't have much longer."

"No…" she agreed. "You don't. And you need to focus everything you got on being prepared for the living hell you are going to face."

He scoffed softly. "It won't make a difference."

Aranea gritted her teeth in irritation. "Look, I know you're dedicated, okay? No one is questioning that. But you can't just sneeze at torture and see it as a for sure thing that you won't give up the information they want–"

"I will give it up."

Wait… what? She scowled, waiting for him to continue.

His expression was tighter now, but he never tore his gaze from the city. "As I said before… I may be naive on some matters, but I'm not stupid. I'll do my best. I will try my damnedest not to give them what they want, but whether it's sooner or later… they will break me. Loqi was right. More experienced, stronger men than me have caved at the Empire's hands. I'm no special case."

Aranea tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. He'd been throwing false bravado in Loqi's face this whole time. He'd always known it would be over for him if they got him out of the city. That it would likely be over for Lucis with the intel he had to have and the undercover Imperial force in the Glaive.

The silence between them stretched. She really didn't know how to reply to that last bit.

"…Is there a vending machine with water in it around?"

"Biggs went to look for the drink one. I'll have to ask him." Aranea pushed off the vending machine. If the most she could do was get him a water, she was going to get him a damn water. "…This isn't some ploy to get me away so you can try and escape again, is it?"

Ignis chuckled softly. "You have my word. I'm not going anywhere."

Not that he really could anyway. Even if he managed to get free, Loqi was guarding the elevator and stairway.

She'd started to leave when his words stopped her.

"Thank you, Aranea."

The words themselves weren't odd, but his tone was. He didn't sound like he was thanking her for water. Was it a thank you for not being a horrible kidnapper? Thanks for listening? Thanks for not being happy about the kidnaping in general? She didn't know.

"Yeah… sure thing."

Ignis watched Aranea turn a corner, and he let out a shaky breath, shifting so he could rise to his knees. It was the only way he could get the leverage he needed.

She trusted his word, and he'd not break his word on that. Escape was no longer an option for him, even if he could cut the bindings on his hands, which was doubtful. The bindings were tied in a way that made it difficult to move his hands at all. There was just enough room to summon his dagger, but cutting free would have been a lengthy process.

But he didn't need to cut free.

He called on his blade, its familiar weight and shape in his hand almost a comfort. Almost. If he weren't summoning it for what he was.

His breathing exercises were long forgotten now as his throat gave a hitch. He didn't need to calm down. Not now. A fast pulse would be a benefit in this case.

He scrunched his eyes shut as he contorted back to get the right angle, gently drawing the blade up the inside of his right thigh in search of the correct point.

One cut. That was all he needed. One cut, and this was all over. Noct would be safe. Gladio. Prompto. His family. His King. Lucis.

Six, how had it come to this? He should have just run when he had the chance. He'd gotten the information he wanted, but now that was useless. His warnings about the Captain would never be heard. He could only hope someone else would discover the truth.

He gritted his teeth, barely smothering a yell of pain as his own blade dug into his skin. His head fell back against the wall behind him, chest heaving as air hissed past his teeth while he endured in silent agony. Blood soaked his blade and gloves, raining on the carpeted floor in time with the sweat that was running down his neck and onto his jacket.

He released the dagger with a gasp, letting it vanish into crystal shards that blinked out of existence.

It was done.

He slumped against the wall, breathing heavily as moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes.

No. He wouldn't die here, in this dark, lonely hallway.

Stubbornly pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder, he maneuvered himself into office S21. The floor swallowed his groans as he dragged himself across the room. Six, it hurt, but he didn't have long enough to take it slowly. Average time until unconsciousness when the femoral artery was severed was thirty seconds.

Somehow, he managed to make the trip, pushing himself up to rest one shoulder against the glass wall.

Insomnia lay before him, lit up by only the last traces of sunlight.

This. This was what he was dying for. His beautiful home and those who lived in it. He could be at peace with that.

His breathing had grown shallow, and he dropped his head forwards against the glass. The coolness of the glass seeped past his bangs, his spectacles a hair's width away from contact.

The tears gently fell now, blurring his vision, and he blinked them away in an attempt to hold on to his clear view of the city as long as possible.

Cold. He felt so cold.

A soft sob escaped his mouth, his voice cracking when he tried to use it. "I'm so sorry, Noct… I wish there was another way, but I swore I'd do whatever it took to keep you safe."

Oh, Noct… Had it even been that long ago that the young Prince had been so concerned over his father's health that he'd barely been able to stay focused on his schoolwork and the housekeeping? For all his apathetic attitude, Ignis knew how deeply his friend could care. This would tear him apart.

Gladio… Prompto… They would deal with their grief in their own ways, but they'd have to look after Noct as well.

Gladio would shoulder most of the burden. His job would become more difficult. But he would manage. He was strong, emotionally and physically.

Prompto… He knew all too well that the boy didn't have many friends. Perhaps he and Noct and Gladio would be brought closer by this. It was the only good he could hope for.

"I wish you all the best, my friends…" Ignis felt his energy draining, his eyes slipping fully closed. "Godspeed…"

...My fingers slipped? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯