A spark in his brain, soft lips against his—he knew those lips. Had he fallen asleep on her? How terribly rude of him, but he wasn't well; it felt as though something heavy was lying across his chest, paralyzing his lungs and burning them with an aching fire.
Breathe, love. I need you to breathe!
Air across his tongue, an increasing pressure, and his eyes shot open wide in awareness. Though he tried to suck in a deep breath, whatever phantom weight that was pinning him down was also preventing him from taking in air, so he rolled to the side in an effort to push it off him as Laura slapped him hard on the back. Finally, instinct seemed to kick in, and his gut heaved up as though he were about to vomit his very viscera. But it was his lungs that benefitted from the action as water spewed up from his throat, setting his trachea on fire and filling his nose and mouth with a fetid, metallic aroma. The very moment he'd purged all he could, he sucked in a deep, desperate breath, his diaphragm clenching with the effort as he coughed on the black-and-white tile floor of what was apparently an abandoned water-level café.
"Oh, thank the stars," he heard Laura exclaim on an exhale behind him.
Shaking, a little dizzy, but breathing, at least, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and assessed his condition. When had he managed to get wet? He thought he could recall rolling along the floor of the bridge for a moment after Laura had leapt at him, but nothing after that.
His jacket was weighing him down, making it even more difficult to breathe, and his gloves were wrinkling his fingertips, so he removed and dismissed them as he asked, What happened? Are Prompto and Gladio all right?
"The bridge collapsed and we fell, but Gladio and Prompto were safe on the other side. They're heading toward the altar now, but I'm feeling pockets of civilians coming out of their hiding places along with waves of imperial troops landing. They're about to be busy."
She had come to kneel in front of him by the end of her report, her own jacket removed and the tendrils of hair around her face dripping onto his wet trousers. Ignis reached out with gentle fingers as she kneeled, grazing his fingertips just below one of the purple and opal gashes on her arms. There weren't bullets inside the wounds, at least, from their appearance, but it seemed their troubles were only just beginning. How many more times would she be shot today?
Placing a cool hand at the back of his neck, she tilted her head and looked inward for a moment. I think your lungs are okay. Can you stand?
I believe so, he replied, and she stood to help him to his feet. The world seemed to spin for a moment as she held him steady, but he was already pressing a finger to his ear.
Is that going to work? she asked.
We're about to find out. It was claimed to be water resistant.
A crackling static made him rethink his assessment, until he heard Prompto's muffled, relieved voice in his ear, "Iggy! We thought you were a goner. Laura make it too?"
"Yes, yes, we're both quite all right," he managed in a smooth voice, and he was surprised at its evenness, given how badly his throat was still burning. "It'll take more than a little seawater. I'm more worried about Noct. We'll find a way to the altar while the both of you assist any remaining citizens and keep the enemy distracted."
"You got it," Gladio said.
"Be careful," Ignis added. "Laura's intel indicates we're all about to be overrun."
"No prob," Prompto said. "Thanks for the heads up!"
His expression growing hard with determination, he looked over at Laura and nodded. "Let's go. We need to find a better vantage point if we're to assess the situation."
Ignis eyed the sweeping current that rushed beneath the remaining portion of the Eastern Bridge, which jutted out just over the canal that was keeping them from leaving the Tigiano District—and the most direct path to the altar. Even if they could safely swim across, the walls on the other side were too high for them to scale.
"He's still alive, love," Laura reassured him, placing a hand on his arm. "And you saw yourself that he has Titan fighting on his behalf."
And while he clung to that one great hope, there were still so many facts he'd tallied up over the last hour of racing through the ruined city streets and cutting down squads of MTs with reckless abandon. Despite his best efforts to remain calm and rational, those facts were bubbling up in his chest and threatening to choke him: the great column of golden power they'd seen rising from the altar like a beacon, that Noct still hadn't answered his calls, and most disturbingly—that the Chancellor had certainly visited and left the altar.
Still, with their path cut off from them, there was nothing they could do but turn back. Touching her elbow for some small measure of comfort as well as to lead her back, Ignis strode toward the arch at the end of the bridge, but his breath caught in his throat as Laura shoved him into the corner of the supporting pillar right as they were about to reach the street again.
Ravus . . . and I think Caligo.
Ignis nodded, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently reversing their places, pressing her up against the corner as he slowly peered around the pillar to catch sight of the source of the footsteps he was just beginning to hear echoing in the open square just beyond the bridge.
"Have you located the Ring yet, Commander? And what of Lunafreya?" the High Commander asked.
Caligo strutted awkwardly behind Ravus, who was striding toward an awaiting Magitek engine hovering over the bay. "Both, High Commander, but our forces are unable to extract either at present. We've no way of approaching the altar so long as the Archaean stands in our way."
Ignis allowed himself a silent, cleansing breath. At least they weren't the only ones being prevented from approaching the altar, so Noct and Lady Lunafreya's safety couldn't be compromised any further than it already had been.
The High Commander had slowed, staring out at the open water where Titan stood knee-deep, beating back Magitek engines with his massive fists and sending them hurtling into the water and city streets without regards to allies nor enemies below. Much of the area just beyond the Tigiano District had been leveled by the ships-turned-wrecking-balls, and the source of much of the black smoke floating on the air and choking them all was a pile of exploded ships setting much of the Pitra District ablaze.
"Even the gods are on his side," the High Commander sneered, but then he sighed, seemingly changing his mind about the Magitek engine as he turned and began walking in the opposite direction. "Neither the King nor the Oracle will escape with their lives if the fighting continues. Order a full retreat. I'm going in alone."
"B—but Sir!" Caligo protested, and Ravus whirled on him.
"I assume you are already familiar with how I got this arm?" he asked in irritation and impatience, holding his Magitek prosthetic out in Caligo's face.
". . . Yes, Sir."
"Then you must also know the Ring is worthless without one who can wield it," he barked, turning back and walking away.
Had Lord Ravus just implied that he had lost his arm to the Ring? Had he attempted to use it during the invasion? It would seem that the price for putting on the Ring, even if one's intentions weren't altruistic, wasn't necessarily death, but then, Ignis supposed that the High Commander technically was of royal blood, as often as the Fleuret and Lucis Caelum families had crossed over the centuries. Perhaps his stay of execution had been for that reason alone.
As Caligo's engine pulled away, Ignis looked down at Laura before stepping out from behind the pillar and into the street.
"Time is of the essence. We must make haste." It was likely that Lord Ravus was heading on the same route he and Laura had just been about to take—the only other bridge over the canal that they hadn't personally seen collapse. If they followed discreetly at a distance, it was possible the High Commander would clear their path ahead of them.
"I'm afraid haste is going to be an issue," she said in a small voice, and he looked back at her to see that her eyes were faraway and blank. "We've got incoming. A lot incoming."
He could hear them now, their metallic boots clanking against the paving stones of the courtyard, even over the blasts still sending chunks of what was left of the city into the sea. In this concentration, he could taste the scourge on the air emanating from the MTs as they approached from each sidewalk, each side street.
They were trapped.
Ignis stepped between Laura and the platoon—summoning and crushing a flask of lightning between his palms, calling forth his daggers, imbuing them with the overclocked lightning, and spreading his stance wide to protect her before the shooting began. His mortal body might have been less sturdy than hers, but he was able to take a potion for his injuries—whereas each laser blast or bullet was an injury she couldn't instantly recover from.
His gesture was short-lived, however, as he heard the familiar roar of Magitek engines coming in for a landing behind him on the ocean side. Chancing a quick glance through Laura's eyes, he counted the landing of three MA Pisces and another platoon of soldiers as he felt her back brush against his.
Don't forget electra-kitty, she said, summoning her falchions.
Is it really that difficult to remember the name 'elder coeurl'?
No. Are you really more interested in the fact that I enjoy calling them electra-kitties than the general what-the-fuckery that is the Empire dropping coeurls off in the middle of a full-scale battle?
I suppose you do rather have a point.
Had it not been for the backdrop of the Archaean pounding the massive airships in the distance, the courtyard would have been silent as both parties stared at one another across the paving stones, waiting for the opposition to make the first move. There was no doubt that they were vastly outnumbered, absurdly so. Was this the moment Ignis had feared? Dying by her side wouldn't be so awful, he supposed, now that they were here, but he would've liked to have ensured Noct's safety beforehand.
"Ignis?"
He admired her composure in this moment. Her voice was completely steady as she said his name, so gently. How many days had she had like this, where she was nearly certain that someone would die, and he'd simply been unaware? His admiration for her grew as he steeled his resolve.
"Yes, Rose?"
Turning his head slowly to the side, never taking his eyes off the waiting soldiers and MTs in front of him, he could barely make out her profile over his shoulder from the side of his eye, but he could feel her—cheeky and impish and bubbling with love in his mind. Perhaps there was more hope for this battle than he'd originally believed.
"Dance with me."
Setting his hard eyes back on the enemy, he grinned ferally. With her by his side, they would do more than dance; they would fly.
"It would be my pleasure," he said with relish.
As he flashed through the square, lightning licking after his every step, he wished he could take more time to watch her work as she leapt on soldier after soldier, cutting her falchions directly through the armor into flesh so savagely that she seemed to transform into a wild animal. They took out the soldiers in tandem—Ignis growing lightheaded again as he pivoted to the side of a shot and burst ten feet to the left to bury a dagger through the eye of an armored axeman. He blanched briefly as the flash of a blade passed in front of his eyes, but as he recognized the silver-white mithril and heard the ping of a bullet ricochet, he realized Rose had just deflected a shot meant for his head.
With any luck, that was the moment they'd been waiting for, but somehow, he doubted it would be that easy.
Cracking a hi-potion, he felt the cool wash of Noct's magic settle over him—soothing the vicious burning holes of the laser blasts in his skin and even healing the chafing on his thighs and arms from his wet clothes, but doing nothing to alleviate the throb in his head—before turning to the elder coeurl.
Take the armor farthest away so you aren't hit by the telepathic backlash, he instructed—because he'd be damned if they disconnected from each other at a moment like this, but he didn't receive an answer. It seemed that veneer of civilization had dropped from her mind, exposing the cold, almost alien persona she had alluded to but had never exposed to him. This was Laurelín, the goddess, the Lliamérian Queen—not quite as lost as she had been in the war, but perhaps stepping on that path. As he caught sight of her blue-tinged form warping to the farthest armor, his own drain lance summoned to her hands and an expression of frigid fury on her normally warm features, he couldn't find it in himself to hate or fear this creature, as she'd been moved to this state from her love and defense of him, her mate.
But he knew she wouldn't want this, would regret the excessive force and forfeiture of Rose's identity once the haze had settled, so he sent her a brief flash of them holding hands and laughing as they'd run toward the Bridge of Fists yesterday, along with his worry.
Stay with me, Rose, he said, turning back to the elder coeurl, who was crouched in a corner and likely charged up for an attack powerful enough to kill him in a single zap.
Her assault didn't slow or decrease in ferocity, but he could feel her desperation, fear, and the chill of her mindscape melt at his image.
You're right. Thank you, she murmured, warmth growing in their connection again. Please, be careful.
Ignis's eyes locked on the dancing coeurl whiskers sparking with electricity; all he had to do was get the giant cat to expend its energy fruitlessly before it would be safe to fight.
A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark, he noted with some amusement as he slid his blades together, igniting his steel.
You're a dork, and I love you dearly.
You may want to assess what those two premises imply about you, love.
He crouched low and stalked toward the elder coeurl weaving hypnotically to distract the creature. It leapt forward with a hiss, baring its teeth, and Ignis spun to the side and landed into a crouch just as the whiskers snapped forward. Even with the distance of several inches, it felt as though the hair on his arms and head stood on end for a moment as the arcs of electricity dissipated in the air.
You mean, even more than your hair already does? Laura teased.
How very amusing to provoke me in the middle of such a hair-raising experience, he remarked before leaping onto the cat's back and crossing his daggers over its neck, slicing through the jugular. Flipping off the flailing body, he landed behind the creature and buried both daggers in its hips before flitting to the side to do the same with its ribs. The giant cat flailed and flopped to its side with a final scream just as the explosions of a conquered armor rocked the square.
Two to go, he commented as he summoned his radiant lance and made his way to the closest remaining armor. With a running start, he slid under the belly of the great beast, pointing the blade straight up in the air before forcing it through the metal. Throwing all his weight into the effort, he dragged the blade forward, slicing through the delicate circuitry and sending the machine staggering back as the pilot attempted to escape his assault.
Laura spun past him, twisting out of the way of an exploding missile and completing several perfect coupés jeté en tournant en manége around his machine as she sliced at the joints of the legs. As he darted over to her armor and began his assault on its vulnerable leg joints, admittedly with less finesse, the vanity in him wondered if she could perhaps begin teaching him her own style of ballet combat next. The effect of her intuitive movement combined with such a graceful, well-disciplined art was rather stunning—and an aesthetic he aspired to.
Add ballet lessons to the list, then, she said with a grin as her armor collapsed to the ground in a heap of burning metal. His machine followed suit only seconds after, and he dismissed one of his daggers before rushing toward her and grabbing her hand.
Rose, he breathed, his blood seeming to dance in his veins at finally being the one to say this. Run!
And they did—darting to the center of the square together before the remaining missiles exploded in a cacophony of heat, light, and percussion. Despite his use of potions this afternoon, Ignis's lungs still ached as they heaved for air, to say nothing of the state of his head. But when he glanced down at his fingers woven together with Laura's before looking up to catch her gaze—relieved, smiling, and completely his Rose—he didn't feel a single stirring of his pain or exhaustion. He brought the dagger that was in his other hand around slowly, touching the flat of the blade carefully to the line of her jaw and tilting her face up to his.
"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes wide and searching. "I needed the reminder."
"I love you," he blurted out indecorously, still trembling from the triumphant rush of survival and so very relieved to find them both still breathing that he didn't care for the moment about silly things like propriety. Dismissing his blade and letting go of her hand, he grasped for her cheeks and pulled her to him, leaning down to devour her mouth—lips sliding against lips, the taste of tea still faintly lingering on her breath, teeth scraping against his mouth, and the warm flesh of her tongue reaching out to taste him as he did the same. The sensation of her hearts pounding made his own seem to gallop out of his chest and across the courtyard as he soothed his fingertips over her cheekbones.
As much as he would've liked for everything around them to suddenly disappear so he could stand there and kiss her forever, or perhaps drag her off to bed, there were, unfortunately, far more important matters to attend to.
"If we didn't have to get to the altar right now . . .," he gasped between breathy presses of his lips to that spot she loved just in front of her ear.
"I know," she replied, her voice low and panting.
"Save it for later?"
"You know it's always here waiting for you," she said, pulling back with a mischievous smile. "Turns out, I'm pretty easy."
"Take care that rumor doesn't get out," he warned, looking down the avenue toward Madrana Street. "Between your reputation and mine, we may not be permitted to show our faces in Lestallum again."
It seemed a full retreat hadn't applied to the land-side of the Empire's operations, as Magitek engines were still landing at several points throughout the city and dropping troops into the streets. They would never make it to the altar on foot at this rate.
"Do you think we could slip in under the radar in a small boat?" he asked, already turning to head back toward the evacuation docks.
"It depends on how much of a dick Titan wants to be. He's not a fan of mine, but he should at least be able to identify us as friends and not foes as we approach if I'm with you."
A crackle of static sounded in his ear, and for a heart-stopping moment, he thought that perhaps Noct was attempting to make contact, but Commander Ricci's authoritative tone sounded a broad announcement instead: "Attention all units: assemble at the docks and prepare for withdrawal immediately. We depart in three minutes."
"Wait!" he interrupted after he'd pressed a finger to his ear, swallowing his disappointment. "We're headed to the altar. We need a boat."
"Have you lost your marbles?!" the commander shrieked.
Ignis might have been more learned in diplomatic relations than military protocol, but the unprofessional nature of even the commanding officers of Accordo was all too apparent in a time such as this. 'Lost his marbles?' Surely not.
"Think Napoleon could probably benefit from lessons on protocol," Laura muttered.
"No," he replied sarcastically to the commander, then added seriously, "but we'll lose the King if we don't act."
When did you start calling him the King? Laura asked, but he ignored her when the First Secretary's voice cut in with, "Give him what he wants."
"Hey, Iggy, do you copy?" Prompto's voice sounded over the line, but Ignis found he couldn't answer.
An image had shimmered bright and vivid in front of his vision, as clear as the day it had happened—a starry-eyed boy of four with shiny black hair beaming up at him as he grasped both hands around Ignis's. His Majesty's voice seemed to echo in his ears, "Listen well. A king cannot lead by standing still. A king pushes onward, always, accepting the consequences and never looking back. That said, a king can accept nothing without first accepting himself. Should he stand still, I ask you to stand by him and lend him a hand—as his friend and as his brother. Please, take care of my son."
Oh, Your Majesty, I'm afraid . . . I must ask your forgiveness, he pleaded to the memory of his dearly departed liege as fear, which even in his panic he knew was irrational, bowled over him like a tidal wave. They couldn't lose another King; he simply couldn't lose his brother, even if it cost him his own life. Ignis had promised he would always look after Noct. It seemed as though the fates themselves were doing everything in their power to keep them away from the altar. What if they couldn't reach him in time?
Ignis! Laura's voiced called from somewhere far away, and he felt hands on his cheeks, grounding him back to reality. Her sapphire eyes, so similar to Noct's, were gazing up at him, searching, worried. Come on, love. You have to stay with us if we're all to get through this okay.
Yes, he had warned himself only yesterday not to let his fear rule his head. With a deep breath, he managed to chase away his panic, if not the frantic pounding of adrenaline through his blood or the pain lancing through his head, and grabbed Laura's hand before sprinting toward the docks.
You're right. Thank you.
You save me; I save you. It's what we do.
"Ain't a hard question, Iggy," came Gladio's enraged voice over the comm. "Do you copy—yes or no?!"
"Yes, I copy."
"Then speak up next time! Look, I'm just as worried as you are, but we can't go losing our heads. If we wanna save Noct, we've gotta keep it together!"
"Yes," he admitted. "I suppose you're right. We'll keep moving."
He must be terrified too, Laura said. They're running up against far too many troops attacking the residents looking to flee their homes. They haven't made it any closer to the altar either.
"Hang in there Iggy!" Prompto's cheering voice sounded over the comm. "You and Laura take care of each other."
"We will. Thanks, Prompto."
The streets were clear of imperial troops in the Deutatuo Residential District as Ignis and Laura made their way back to the evacuation point, but the group of rescued civilians they gathered and led past ravaged buildings and unrecognizable squares swelled to a dozen by the time they arrived at Commander Ricci's post. Ignis wondered just how many had stayed behind in the first wave of boats and how many Gladio and Prompto would need to assist before they were able to devote themselves fully to getting to the altar.
"If Lord Ravus ordered a full retreat, I wonder why Gladio and Prompto are still encountering so many troops in other parts of the city?" Ignis asked.
"It's the nature of an operation like this when you have so many strong-willed commanders in one place. Caligo has certainly shown willful disobedience towards superiors the two times we've seen him. Ardyn also has command over his own men, and even Aranea is independently-minded with her own force that seems to be loyal to her and her alone."
"Surely you don't believe Aranea would use her company to attack unarmed civilians?" he asked in disbelief.
"No, but she is here for this operation. She was at the masquerade."
"Ah, likely in the air then, with her ship, but I'd have hoped she'd defected by now. I'm beginning to wonder whose side the High Commander is really on these days, as well, with his interest in preserving the lives of both the King and the Oracle."
"My guess would be his sister's side, which may bode well for us," she replied as she hopped off the dock and into the awaiting skiff.
He had just followed suit, grabbing hold of the gunwale to steady himself against the boat's heaving motion, when the Archaean gave a mighty, thunderous roar, sending tremors of soundwaves across the restless ocean's surface and vibrating deep in Ignis's chest. The god threw a fist at one of the ten Magitek engines surrounding him, sending chunks of airship debris and exploding missiles hurtling toward the water and city below.
"Hang on, Noct. We're on our way," Ignis whispered as Laura maneuvered the boat out of the channel and into the active war zone.
So, evasive maneuver training starts sooner than I would've expected, Laura said in an almost cheerful tone as he did his best to grip the handholds attached to the console. The boat was bucking wildly, the engine rising in pitch and volume as it hit each wave and rose completely out of the water before slamming back down with a crash. They were both jerked from side to side, nearly shaken from the boat as Laura spun the wheel wildly in either direction, her eyes darting back and forth between the sky and the water in front of them to dodge the hailing debris and shrapnel.
I'd say the likelihood of us making it are pretty slim, she continued, even with me driving. This thing has all the speed and handling of a drunk bantha, but obviously, you want to keep an eye on the source of everything flying at you and anticipate where it's going to land.
She paused in her lecture as she swerved to miss an enormous piece of what Ignis believed had once been the dome roof of the great cathedral, its impact sending a wall of water toward them that pushed the boat about five yards to the left and showering them with freezing droplets of water. Ignis shivered against the cold as the wind whipped his hair back and stole what little body heat he had between his skin and his damp clothes, but he kept his eyes locked on the golden column of light looming ahead of them and growing closer.
If we were being chased, she continued casually, as though they hadn't almost been crushed or thrown from the boat, you'd actually want to alternate between choosing the clearest path and coming as close to the debris as possible, so your pursuer can't predict where you'll go next. Swerving to put debris between you and your enemy is good if the situation applies, but not if speed is also an issue.
At least it appears as though the Archaean is paying us no mind, he noted, grateful that the god hadn't decided to take action against their incoming or Laura's presence. Having a god as a pursuer was certainly not something they needed to add to their list of experiences today.
Well, he's a bit busy at the moment, and we are supposed to be allies, she pointed out.
They had almost made it to the altar by this point—that terrifying beacon of sparkling light nearly blinding him to everything else as they sped past the Archaean's massive stone body—when Laura's face grew pale. Ignis whipped his neck up to the sky to see the cause for her concern and spotted a Magitek engine hurtling out of control toward them—as well as three missiles.
Too many to swerve at once, we're gonna hit at least a couple. Hold on! she said, hugging the wheel to her chest seconds before an ordnance made contact with the water just off their bow. It exploded with a rush of heat and fire, killing their forward momentum with the wave of water it sent rushing back to them.
Not over yet. Take a deep breath and don't let go! she yelled.
He obeyed without question or comment, wrapping his fingers as tightly as he could around the handhold and ignoring the burn in his lungs as he sucked in the deepest breath of air he could manage. His eyes caught sight of the drop ship barrel rolling into the waves just off their starboard side, followed by several pieces of jagged masonry and debris, right before his every sense was cut off from him in an overwhelming cacophony.
Though he couldn't discern whether it was debris or the wall of water that hit him, it hardly mattered, as whatever it was threatened to knock the breath out of him and succeeded in ripping his fingers from the support, tossing him overboard as though he were no more than an inconsequential piece of flotsam. Frothing water forced its way down his nose as he desperately gripped at his glasses to keep them on his face and frantically kicked his way up. The moment he had broken the surface, he blew his nose violently, expelling the burning saltwater from his already tender lungs and drawing in a desperate gulp of air. Despite all the wonders of the ocean that Laura had shown him recently, he'd had quite enough of nearly drowning today, thank you. Spinning in a circle to assess the situation, he spotted the empty skiff floating several yards away—and no sign of her.
Rose? he queried, reaching out to locate her, and there—she was beneath him and continuing to descend. Though a Magitek engine maneuvered to hover just above his head, whipping wind and waves into his face and assaulting his ears, he ignored it for the moment in favor of her response, even as the back of the ship opened to reveal a hybrid armor of a type he'd never seen before.
I'm all right, she said, her voice calm, but he thought he could feel her struggle as she continued to sink deeper. I'm just a bit . . . stuck at the moment. Working on it.
"Well, well. Look who it is! What could one of His Majesty's royal retainers be doing here of all places?" a familiar, sneering voice sounded over the sound system coming from the ship, and Ignis could just make out the gaudy armor of Commander Caligo as he strutted around the side of the machine to sneer down at him.
Without pausing to wait for an answer, Caligo raised a finger in the air, and the ship's guns turned on Ignis, spattering bullets in thwacking, exploding patters across the waves in his direction. As the shots grew closer, Ignis surmised that if he wanted to live, he couldn't stay where he was out in the open water; the boat was his only option, but it would mean leaving Rose behind.
They couldn't separate today, of all days.
Oh for gods' sakes, don't worry about me! I've got a good forty minutes or so of air down here. Get the frack out of there!
"Bloody hell!" he growled out in frustration as he reluctantly leaned forward and swam to the boat as fast as he could manage.
You had better not be lying to protect me, or so help me gods . . ., he warned her.
I swear, I'm all right. My foot is caught, but I think I can use this pole as a lever. If not, I can always expend the extra energy and use magic—a plan B. I'll be fine.
Heaving his sopping, exhausted body onto the boat and dragging himself to the console, he was relieved to find that the engine roared to life on the first try. Though the Archaean gave another great roar, Ignis couldn't stand to watch the titanic form disappear in a shower of gold sparkles or spend a single moment wondering what that meant for those still on the altar because Caligo had ordered the drop ship to come alongside the skiff.
"Surrender now, and I'll ensure your end is as painless as possible," Caligo taunted.
His only goal now was to lure Caligo away from the scene, to ensure both Noct's safety and Laura's, when she emerged. That would mean a chase.
It seems as though I am to be tested on my evasive maneuvering competence much sooner than expected, he said before fixing Caligo with a glare.
"Never!" he spat as he aimed the boat at the shore and hit the throttle.
I have faith. You always were an excellent student.
"Then you leave me no choice," he heard Caligo say before the spray from a giant splash hit him in the back.
Ignis didn't need to look behind him to know that Caligo had chosen to chase after him in the custom hybrid armor stored in the back of the ship; those wicked-looking propellers were well-suited for maneuverability in the water, after all. However, the fact that he'd insisted on pursuing him in the watercraft only spoke to his stupidity—the drop ship, with its greater speed and better versatility, not to mention the guns capable of spreading over a wider range, would have been much more efficient. Still, Ignis was hardly one to complain about the good fortune that came to him from another's idiocy.
"Here they come," he remarked to himself as he opened the skiff's engine up all the way, trying to apply everything he'd learned in Laura's five minutes of instruction to dodge the missiles headed his way. Fortunately, there was plenty of debris for him to swerve around as he weaved the boat through clear waters, around sharp pillars jutting out of the canal that ran through the middle of the city, and past the exploding ordnances Caligo was hurling at him. Though he also attempted to implement his Intuition in the exercise, he found the jarring explosions, the roaring of the wind in his ears, and his inability to feel relevant vibrations up through his feet too distracting for the practice to be of much use, so he focused instead on the littered path ahead and the creaking, whirring mechanisms of the armor behind him.
"Once you're out of the way, the Ring of the Lucii will be mine!" Caligo bellowed.
Just as Ignis was beginning to wonder what would happen when he ran out of canal, a problem that was approaching all too quickly as he scrambled for a plan, Caligo had apparently discovered the benefits of actually aiming for one's opponent and hit the port side of the stern of the skiff. The resulting explosion deafened and disoriented him momentarily, the heat rolling across his back as his center of gravity seemed to whirl around him. He couldn't be certain, but either he slammed against something or something slammed against him hard, knocking the breath from his lungs and freezing his diaphragm in shock and pain for several moments as he rolled across the surface of whatever had just hit him—land, perhaps?
His hearing was the first sense to return as a high-pitched squeal in his ear seemed to drive a blade into his brain. His earpiece must have gotten hit at some point, which would explain the wet, seeping sensation down his right earlobe and side of his neck. As his diaphragm unlocked, he inhaled deeply, reaching up to yank the apparatus from his ear before it deafened him again and tossing it aside.
Ignis! Are you all right?
Yes, he replied, keeping his inner voice from groaning in pain as he summoned a potion and crushed it in his hands. The instant relief swept over his aching body as he asked, Have you surfaced?
Yes, but Gladio and Prompto are trapped in a building under siege on Polipoli Street. I need to go to them.
Despite the effort he could feel in her mind in trying to hide it, her conflict was all too evident; she didn't want them separated today any more than he did—especially at the hands of Jared Hester's killer, but as Prompto and Gladio were most certainly in danger and he wasn't, there was no choice to be made. Even Noct's mind, strong and steady as it had remained since first they'd set out to find him, put Gladio's and Prompto's need first.
Yes, by all means, assist them, he said unnecessarily, as she had already made landfall and was rushing toward Polipoli Street. I'll be all right. Remember, I am not Jared.
I know. Now go and dance with him.
Ignis refused to allow an incompetent lout like Caligo Ulldor to best him in battle—he wouldn't abide by such a shame as his legacy. This would not be the moment he died.
Summoning his daggers and calling the flame to his hands, Ignis stood tall—ready to exact revenge for Jared; for Gladio; for Talcott; for every other man, woman, and child who had suffered at this brute's ungainly hands.
"I'm afraid not. It will never be yours," he replied vehemently to Caligo's threat. "I'll make sure of it."
Author's Note
Sorry, the ability for Ignis to Batman his way around Altissia but conveniently not make it across the city in 5 seconds was too much of a coincidence for me, especially if you look at the map and see that it would have taken 5 seconds for him to get to the bridge Ravus must've used—or even jump in the water and hookshot across the exploded bridge. Since I don't have the luxury of writing, "Sorry love. We can't make it to the other side of this bridge because the game won't let us," he doesn't get his Batman hookshot.
