Disclaimer: not mine

I have completed the first two Menace Dungeons! Didn't seem all that hard, just time consuming since you can't save and come back to finish it later. So maybe having Noct at level 95 is actually helping.

There's a poll upon Scififan33 at ffnet for Chosen Brother's if you haven't seen it.

Not sure if this needs a warning or not but Prompto does something a bit extreme to himself to prove a point, so be prepared for blood loss and not from a bite.

Chapter 5

No…No….he shuddered as he realised that beneath his hand was not bone or muscle…it was a solid mass….metal…

"Mmm….Noct?" Prompto slurred sleepily. "Too early." He shifted to hold him closer and what had once felt comforting now felt like a steel vice around him.

Noctis lay still in his hold, his own heart racing as slowly it all clicked into place and he realised how all the clues about Prompto fit together. How could he have been so stupid, but he trusted Prompto….because that was what they did, they made his kind trust them. Even knowing, all he wanted was to stay where he was and feel safe. He….Prompto…he was an MT, the enemy, more than any human. He wasn't a person…just a machine that could fool anyone into believing it was human. He'd seen the reports from examinations of ones that had been 'killed'. His first friend…and he wasn't even real.

So what was the plan? To use him to infiltrate Insomnia? The Citadel? One MT couldn't do much damage on its own, could it? Assassination? He would have led it right to his Dad after all…he could have gotten his Dad killed. He couldn't take it to the city, but how to lose it without revealing he'd worked out the truth. He….he didn't want to, thinking of killing him…it…made him feel sick. No wonder he'd been relieved when Noctis stopped looking at its memories, it likely hadn't had much blood left which would have led to a quicker discovery. Were the memories he'd seen real? Or just implanted somehow?

"Noct?" Prompto called in concern, pushing up on one arm to look at him, drowsiness fading from his eyes. Did MT's really sleep? Maybe it was like hitting pause on a game? Then he was sitting up fully, gently pulling Noctis up with him and he bit his lip, trying not to show what he now knew. "Hey, what's wrong? Nightmare?"

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Prompto sat up, gently pulling Noctis up with him, holding him gently, worried. He noticed Noct biting his lip, obviously nervous…and scared? "Hey, what's wrong? Nightmare?" he asked gently, reaching up to card his fingers through fine black hair. What was going on? "Hey, you with me?" He gently tapped his cheek, seeing his pupils were dilated in fear. Maybe he shouldn't have shared his concerns over being followed? "It's okay, I won't let anyone hurt you," he promised, rubbing his back, feeling every muscle tense. "Noct, talk to me, please."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He struggled to keep his breathing even as Prompto 'comforted' him, assuming he'd had another nightmare, he'd had a few since being rescued….and now he wondered if the wolves were really dead or not. Though, Prompto had to have been inserted into the Hunters a while back, that was some very intricate planning. Unless they had MT's scattered around Lucis living and working in different jobs, waiting for any opportunity? Maybe…was it possible…Prompto didn't know he was an MT? Could they do that good a job? Could the memories feel so real that the units believed them, thought themselves human?

As Prompto rubbed his back, he couldn't help it, tensed muscles relaxing under the soothing touch. He could hear the slightly elevated heart beat beneath his ear, the sound of air as it moved through his lungs. How could he be so lifelike? He could feel the adrenaline and fear falling away as he was held, inhaling the warm scent that screamed safety. He got a hand up, pushing at Prompto's chest, feeling the solid metal beneath his palm, dragging in a shaky breath and he felt Prompto freeze.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Something was really wrong but at least Noct was finally beginning to relax, so he kept up the comforting murmurs as he rubbed his back, Noct's head over his heart. He felt a trembling hand lift to rest on his chest and then it was pushing and Prompto froze…the hand was right over his core…that amount of pressure. He looked down and saw the fear in Noctis' eyes…he hadn't had a nightmare. The thing he had dreaded since rescuing Noctis had happened; he knew. He'd heard or felt his Magitek Core while they were sleeping.

Prompto took a deep breath and then let go of Noctis, getting up and moving to the other side of the tent before sitting again. With the rain outside it was the most space he could give him. "Noctis?" he called out softly, unable to meet his eyes, not wanting to see the fear and loathing that was sure to be there. "You worked it out huh?"

"You…You're a….."

"MT?" Prompto finished for him, hating to hear him stutter, glancing up to see his eyes flickering colour. He took a fortifying breath and then yanked his shirt up and over his head before removing the band on his wrist and the bandana around his upper arm. He sat still, arms spread out, letting Noctis see.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Noctis found his gaze drawn to pale skin, though not as pale as a vampires, it was also spattered with freckles. He swallowed as his eyes wandered over lithe muscles before forcing his eyes to move to his arms….there, on his wrist, black lines forming a barcode. It was true…he was an Imperial machine. His gaze wandered up to where the bandana usually covered, seeing something that looked...off. Seeing where he was looking, Prompto slowly reached up and pressed on the skin, raising a flap to reveal a port. Why was he doing this? Why show him and prove what he suspected.

He watched as a weapons calloused hand went to where he had felt the metal and then hesitated. Noctis looked up and found Pro…it staring at him, eyes sad. Then it looked down again and Noctis followed its gaze down to the chest where it pressed to the side of the metal. Noctis watched as a malevolent red glow appeared through thin skin before it moved its hand and the glow faded.

"Do you know where MT's come from?"

"A factory?" Noctis offered tensely and Prompto snorted.

"Science facility, but close enough," he answered and Noctis glanced up as he moved, leaning back against his bag, one leg bent at the knee, arm resting on it….a hard position to move quickly from. "I haven't seen it since I was eight, but I still remember everything about it. The thousands of rows of tanks…the dorms…training rooms… it was hell, but we didn't know anything else. MT's aren't exactly born but we're not manufactured like machines either. We're clones, every batch given slight variations in the gene sequences, marked with codes for easy identification," he rubbed at his wrist. "Embryos are placed in tanks where we stay, unconscious thankfully, until around three years of age. Guess they don't want to deal with changing diapers or anything," he shrugged slightly.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Prompto couldn't look at him as he explained his 'childhood', he hated remembering that place, but it was the only option. So he stared at the floor between them, glad it was a warm enough night that he wasn't shivering, then again he was adapted to the freezing cold of the mountains where the facility had been located.

"We were moved into dorms then and training began, tests. It was always so cold.." he swallowed. "What did they care if a few of us froze to death? They could just make more, those who died were too weak to be useful. Gene alterations included were designed to make it so we smell safe, heal faster, have improved memory, reflexes, anything they thought we would need. Further 'enhancements' began at age five and last until either they consider you completed, you wash out and are terminated, or transferred to another area." He paused and glanced up, seeing Noctis was watching him warily, but he was listening.

"I washed out, was marked for termination. I had nothing to lose, so I ran. You saw from the streets what it took to get here. Staying in Niflheim wasn't an option, not with the barcode, too many things can remote scan them. I'd never even dreamed of running before then. The facility was all I knew, to me it was the world, then I saw the tag and I knew what they were going to do, and I guess, if you know you're going to die, running isn't so scary anymore."

"MT's are human looking machines. You…you aren't…human."

Prompto flinched slightly. "I am human," he argued, he was! "The process was never completed. I'm still flesh and blood, mostly. Just the ports and Magitek core aren't." That he was sure about anyway. He'd seen his own scans up on the wall enough times when in the labs. "Full modifications can't begin until the body stops growing."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He wasn't a machine? He'd always assumed they came out of a plant, fully made at an adult age. The idea of cloning babies….tearing them apart piece by piece…it was sickening.

"I know you have no reason to believe me and I don't know how to prove to you that I'm not one of them. I hate the Empire."

"Have you ever killed a vampire?" Noctis couldn't help asked, feeling sick when Prompto looked away.

"At the facility. Combat training was a big part of things. We are meant to be able to match a vampire in a fight. Not exactly fair though when pitting barely enhanced kids against trained vampires. They did the same against werewolves too. It was just…what we did. We didn't know any better, obey or die. Every day taught that you and your people are nothing but monsters who kill anything that moves, that we existed to protect people. Since coming to Lucis, I've killed one vampire….he was draining a kid in a back alley of Galdin Quay. I couldn't just let it happen. Got her to a hospital and she lived. I've avoided hunts involving sentients for a reason, always worried someone would realise. I think Ezma was at least suspicious. I know you're not what the Empire taught me."

Brainwashing or something. Why bother though when they were just going to be made into machines? Unless, they weren't? "How much is left in a full MT?" he asked quietly.

"Not much, in either type. Strictly combat models, there's nothing human left, just daemon miasma powering the armour. Infiltration units…there's some. Some of it's only skin deep, to fool the senses, but I saw a unit get stabbed in the gut once, there was muscle and…" he grimaced. "Some of the digestive tract so they can still eat to appear human."

"Then how do I know you're not like that?" he demanded.

"You drank my blood Noctis," he answered.

Noctis…he'd been using his full name the whole time. To keep from angering him further? He balled a hand into a fist, feeling his nails bite into the skin. It was hard, staying suspicious, angry, he'd been exposed to him for long enough now that everything in him wanted to just trust him. that was one of the scariest things about MT's. "I've seen MT's bleed."

Prompto looked up at him before nodding. He reached into his bag and came out with a sharp blade and Noctis tensed, ready to defend himself only to stare in shock as Prompto buried the blade in his own arm with a gasp of pain.

"What…" he was frozen, the smell of blood hitting him instantly, even as Prompto moved the blade, face locked in a grimace of pain. He then tossed the blade out of reach and held his arm out, blood dripping from the wound. "What did you do?"

"Look," Prompto said and Noctis shifted closer, looking down at the wound, seeing where Prompto had pulled the skin back, revealing muscle, veins….bone. That was definitely human bone he was seeing. He looked up and saw Prompto sway alarming, skin paling as he watched. It would be so easy, just let him bleed out…if he could. If he died, he was human.

Noctis grabbed his arm and lowered his face to the wound, lapping at the blood and he heard Prompto whimper. He had no potions for a human, they hadn't had the spare funds to buy any either. He couldn't just sit by and watch him bleed out, so he had to seal the wound, keep his blood in his body and hope he could heal the internal stuff, he had said they were altered to heal faster. He licked out, around the edges, over and over until final the skin sealed over and then he kept going, cleaning the blood from pale skin. He looked up to find sad blue eyes watching him and he let go of the limb. "That was stupid," he hissed even as he dug through the food bag.

Prompto shrugged slightly. "Better the arm than my leg or chest or something," he mumbled.

Noctis grabbed some juice and then had to basically feed it to him, small sips to hopefully keep him from vomiting. He found himself wrapping an arm around Prompto's waist and the MT leant into him.

"M'sorry…lying to you…just…wanted to know…it's like," he mumbled, sounding barely awake.

"What what's like?" He asked, not liking how pale he was. He should have stopped him as soon as he smelt blood.

"Havin' a friend," he answered, body going limp and Noctis listened intently even as he felt for a pulse. He was still breathing, heart beating, and…core humming away. He lay Prompto down and covered him in blankets since blood loss would make him cold.

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just follow his instincts when they were so badly compromised. He watched Prompto sleep for a while before peeling back the blankets and then reaching out, he found the core and then felt out from there, pressing hard. He found nothing else that felt out of place, it felt like human flesh and bone. If that was true…then the Empire was even more depraved than they thought. Unless his Dad and others did know where MT's really came from? Was it kept secret to keep the troops from hesitating in battle?

He wanted so badly for Prompto to be telling the truth, for him to be free of the Empire, a real person. One that had chosen to help him because it was the right thing to do. But...how could even Prompto know for sure? How could he be positive his mind was his own? That he wasn't leading them into a trap without knowing it? But you couldn't program a human like a machine, right?

Noctis covered him back up, hesitating, but then he grabbed Prompto's bag and went through it. Clothing, toiletries, an old novel, some survival rations…and in an inner pocket was a very old set of dog tags. Stamped into the metal was; N-iP01357, 05953234, M.E. 735. He looked back over at Prompto and then pulled his arm free, looking down at the barcode, seeing the same numbers around it. Some sort of identification code then, and probably his year of birth, so they really were the same age. He repacked the bag and then grabbed the bloody knife, sticking it out into the rain to wash it off. He then grabbed a towel to try and clean up the mess of Prompto's blood.

He finally ran out of things to do except sit, think, and keep an eye on Prompto, though there wasn't much he could do for him if that mess of a wound got infected or even kept bleeding internally. It had been such an impulsive, stupid thing to do.

Was staying the same thing for him as cutting his arm had been for Prompto? Dangerous and crazy? He didn't want to leave, to try and make it home on his own. He couldn't take Prompto to the city, even if he was telling the truth about everything, no one would ever believe him. He'd be killed or…or treated like a captured MT, pulled apart to see if they could find a way to defend against them. No, better to die than that.

They would have to part once in Leide, he would get access to funds, make sure Prompto would have the money to go where he wanted, to give up hunting. Then he would go home and forget about him, he wouldn't tell anyone about what he was so no one would hunt him down.

He shook his head and sighed, no matter how he tried to ignore it, he wanted Prompto to be telling the truth. He knew why and he still had trouble considering it was all a lie.

He lay down to try and rest a bit, only to wake in the morning curled around the still pale Prompto who was deeply asleep or even unconscious. At least he hadn't died in the night, so he should heal alright, he hoped.

TBC…