Descendit Lunaticus

by Haprilona

When Ardyn makes Noctis choose between the Crystal and his friends, Noctis chooses his friends out of brotherly love and dooms the world. A decade later Noctis is no longer the Chosen King fighting to reclaim his throne, but a common hunter whose only purpose in life is his friends and protecting the remaining Lucian civilians from the horrors of the eternal night.

3. Chapter 3

Note: This is story was originally written to be a music fic, but since FFdotnet doesn't allow links, I will just leave the raw text. If you want the 'full experience', I have this story on AO3 with links and pictures. Just Google Haprilona ao3 and you'll find the story under the same name!

---

Chapter 3

Noctis sat on the stairs leading up to the wall and sharpened his Engine Blade with a whetstone.

Today was the annual market day which meant merchants from both former Niff bases – Fort Highwind and Meldacio Stronghold – as well as Tenebrae and Accordo would put up booths in Lestallum. The fort's inner and outer yards were filled with folk of all ages. Over five thousand people were itching to get out of the depressing environment to enjoy a day filled with bright colourful lights, lively music, good food and fun, or to sell their wares and make a profit. Vans and buses were overloaded and the noise level was nearly unbearable, which is why Noctis had decided to take refuge by the south wall to avoid the north gate's hassle.

Prompto and Gladio were helping Iris and Talcott put up their booth. Noctis had offered to go with them, but received a message through a walkie-talkie telling him to remain within the fort. Aranea was no doubt about to put him to work again.

He checked his sword's blade and deemed it sharp enough. His walkie-talkie buzzed.

'Noct, meet me at the garage. Cid and I have something to discuss with you.' It was Ignis.

"Copy that."

He tied his sword to his belt and briskly made his way past the masses. During times like these he wished he could warp; he was not a fan of crowds of any size.

"About time ya came. I ain't getting any younger", Cid complained in his typical manner. Noctis took comfort in that; it meant the old man was still in good enough health to complain. He feared the surly mechanic didn't have many years left in him. His health was gradually worsening to the point where he couldn't stay out of bed for longer than a few hours at a time.

Talcott did his best to assist the elderly man whenever he could, but the young man already had his hands full helping Iris and Wiz at the farm. Prompto had offered to take Talcott's place at Cid's side, but had been bluntly turned down. Cid hadn't been too pleased when he first witnessed Prompto making advances at his granddaughter. He wasn't quite convinced the freckled young man was up to his standards. And every potential suitor knew that it wasn't Cindy's standards they had to meet, but her grandfather's.

That had been some years back, and Noctis believed that were Prompto to renew his offer, he wouldn't be turned down a second time. Cid had been not-so-subtly probing information from the former king about his best friend. Noctis had made sure to mention his skills with machinery and paint a positive picture of Prompto's characteristics; amazing gunner, kind-hearted, great sense of humour, passionate and committed towards the people he loved. Cid took an interest in the blond's capabilities, but had huffed at the mention of humour – something about having had enough of that with Reggie's quirkiness. In the end when Noctis pointed out how ready and eager Prompto was to be of service to the man he considered a living legend, Cid had given up and grumbled about his current full-time caretaker being a ditz and needing a replacement.

Now if only Prompto had the balls to approach Cindy without needing Noctis for moral support.

"Not getting any younger? Could've fooled me."

"Speak up, boy! Ya know I'm deaf in one ear."

Noctis smirked to himself. Yes, he knew. And he would take advantage of the fact whenever he could. It was quite satisfying to talk back to Cid without having to worry about offending him in the process.

"So, what's this all about?"

"The Commander has requested us to take one of these elemental cannon prototypes to Meldacio Stronghold", Ignis replied.

"Aren't you too busy to leave the fort?"

"Actually, I have other business to attend to while there. I am merely taking this chance to spend more time with you while performing my duty simultaneously."

Noctis grinned. "Efficient as always."

He approached one of the cannons. Attached to it were several see-through objects that reminded him of drum magazines. Inside the magazines were crystal cartridges filled with raw elemental energy similar to the flasks he carried on his person. He recognised some components as parts taken from the MA-X Cuirasses as well as the junk he had retrieved from Caem. He couldn't really tell much based on its appearance alone. That was more of Prompto's area of expertise.

"So, is this the cannon they used during the daemon raid?"

"The one that nearly killed you, yes." Although he put up a calm and collected front, Noctis could tell from the way the muscles around Ignis' throat tightened that the tactician had been extremely worried for his health.

Not wanting to wallow in what could've been – he was an expert at that by now – he quickly changed the subject. "How many rounds do those magazines contain?"

"Exactly one hundred", Cid proudly declared. "That oughta ensure them Meldacio folks are supplied fer more than one invasion and keep the fiends in check."

"Impressive", the hunter complimented. Cid grunted nonchalantly, but Noctis didn't miss the smug turn of his lips.

"Now get off yer asses and push 'er to the trailer. Cor's waitin' fer y'all."

---

It had been many years since Noctis had taken the wheel while Ignis sat in the passenger seat. After Regalia's service came to an end, the four men had trekked all the way from Gralea to Tenebrae to lick their wounds. It had been especially painful for Ignis who had yet to learn to move about unaided. Aranea had offered to fly them along with a hundred homeless Tenebraean civilians back to Lucis. The men had attempted to reclaim the Crystal when rumours spread of its new location in the Citadel of Insomnia, but they had stood no chance armed with only regular Meldacio Hunter HQ provided weapons and without Noctis' powers.

After their humiliating retreat from Insomnia, Noctis had parted from his companions. He needed time to reflect and to come to terms with the reality of his situation. He had failed his people and annulled his forefathers' and Luna's sacrifice to nothing. He needed to find a way to make things right.

'I don't expect you guys to understand, but I need to do this on my own.'

'No way am I leaving you, Noct! You're my best friend!'

'Prompto, I need to find a way to get my powers back, but I have a duty to my people. Please. Ignis, Gladio. Take care of the civilians while I'm away.'

'Don't take too long. My sister will get gross otherwise.'

'We'll be waiting.'

Four years Noctis had searched for a way to reclaim his powers. He revisited each tomb, but nothing helped. He poured over old tomes in Accordo's libraries and researched history in hopes of finding a solution. After those long, lonely years, he found himself at the gate of Fort Vaulleroy where Aranea had built a safe haven for refugees. Civilians from as far as Galahd and Calcano inhabited its dull grey cement walls. It took some persuasion until the former Niflheimian Captain and Lucian King came to an understanding and agreed he would stay as long as his identity remained hidden from everyone within and without the fort.

An exaggerated inhale beside him brought Noctis back from his musings.

"New fragrance?"

"Huh?"

"You smell not unlike Iris." There was no accusation in his soft timbre, just a neutral remark.

"I do?" Noctis brought his collar to his nose, but all he could smell besides his usual odour was the sweet scent of the sylleblossom hidden in his vest. Shrugging, he took a swig from his water canteen.

"Have you told Gladio of your courtship?"

The water went down the wrong way. Noctis pulled the van to a stop and waited until the violent coughing had subdued.

"I take that as a 'no'", Ignis calmly stated and patted the younger man's back.

"Take it as a 'no, I'm definitely not dating Iris'", the hunter managed to correct between hacks and coughs.

"I sincerely hope you're not implying you had a one night stand."

Noctis sputtered. "What? No! I just borrowed her soap when me and Prompto ran out."

Ignis smirked to himself. "If you say so."

"You don't see me commenting on your scent. If anyone here smells like a girl, it's you."

"Yes, well, that's to be expected when the Commander has given me permanent nightly order of 'get to bed or drop dead'."

Noctis grinned. "Oh, so you have no say in your relationship? Ouch."

Ignis kept his tone indifferent, but Noctis could tell by the way he fingered his gloves and cleared his throat that the older man was slightly embarrassed. "She does like to remind me of her superior rank from time to time."

They had never outright announced it, but it was common knowledge that the blind brunet shared quarters with the bossy dragoon. They had been together for four years more or less. Sometimes Noctis wondered if Ignis had any secret desire to become a father. Aranea was forty and didn't have many years left before her biological clock stopped ticking altogether. Noctis hadn't even dreamed of becoming a father after his wedding was permanently cancelled – not until he had held Little Luna, freshly scrubbed from dirt and blood, in his arms. Now more than ever he yearned for a life he could never have.

While Prompto hadn't been able to successfully catch Cindy's attention due to her inhumanly tight schedule, Gladio had been popular among the ladies since day one. He hadn't found his special someone yet, but it was only a matter of time. He went through lady friends faster than Noctis went through gun polish.

Even Iris, who still hoped to turn his head, had dated other men. He had heard from Talcott that the brunette had had a long-distance relationship with a Lestallumian man before said man perished in a daemon attack while on his way to visit her. They hadn't been together for more than few months. That was two years ago. He was glad Iris had taken friends and family with her to Lestallum to keep herself distracted from painful memories.

Sometimes Noctis wondered if Iris truly loved him that much or if she was merely in love with an idealised version of him. She hadn't seen him at his worst and wasn't aware of how deep his scars ran. She had always seen him as The Crown Prince and like most girls, she dreamed of a fairy tale ending in the arms of a prince who would sweep her off her feet and ride them into the sunset on a white chocobo. He liked to think she had outgrown such childish fantasies by now. He had no crown. Only the ring of the Lucii kept in his breast pocket was a proof of his lineage.

The van's CD-player played traditional Tenebraean folk songs in a low volume. Prompto had found the undamaged record in one of the deserted Coernix gas stations during their reconnaissance scouting. There weren't many working music players in the fort. Noctis jealously guarded this rare gem from the other inhabitants, because it was one of the only links he had to Luna and his childhood.

"Haven't heard these tunes in a while", Ignis commented. Most people knew Ignis had a radio in the command tower, but what they didn't know was that Aranea herself had it bought for him specifically as a token of her affection. Noctis knew; he had been the delivery boy.

"Don't think Radio Ravatogh has a record of it."

"Ah. That would explain it."

Even with the radio station's impressive music library, repetition couldn't be helped. Hardly any new songs were recorded and no new instruments were made. The only music available were songs from the past or few remaining street artists who tended to gather large crowds in Lestallum and Altissia. Singing and drums were the only available instruments along with guitars with missing cords.

"So, what business do you have in Meldacio Stronghold?" Noctis absently eyed the gleaming eyes of nocturnal beasts they passed by. The hallowed headlights discouraged them from attempting to attack the van and its occupants.

"I'm to hire seasoned hunters to teach each civilian above the age of eighteen living in Fort Highwind basic self-defence and training with arms. After the recent raid we are sorely outnumbered. I am hoping to get a couple of hunters to stay permanently, but for now I have to concentrate on training a new batch. According to the Commander, the Marshal has whipped the hunters into top shape since he repurposed Formouth Garrison.

"He'll whip my ass if he sees me."

"Undoubtedly."

Noctis pulled the van to a stop in front of the stronghold's gate.

"Inspection!" a man wearing the standardised Meldacio Hunter HQ's uniform called.

---

For all its similarities, Meldacio Stronghold felt like a completely different civilisation. The population slept above the surface in a repurposed garage opposed to the underground dwelling of Fort Highwind. There were no MTs or other independent machines in sight. Everything was operated and performed by humans. A large training ground was occupied by hunters. Even children and the elderly were sporting the brown vests and carrying weapons.

Noctis pulled the van to a stop in front of one of the garages and stepped out. The scent of machine oil mixed with Leiden spices hit his nose in full force. The stronghold's main exports were spices, herbal and medical plants, wildlife meat and cotton according to Ignis. There had even been talk about reopening the Balouve Mines and clearing it from pests with the hallowed lights and Cid's elemental machinery technology.

"Glad ya'll made it safe." The two men turned around towards the familiar voice. Dave, now sporting strands of grey amidst his brown hair from years of stress and worry, made his way past a grim looking group of armed teenagers towards the two Crown citizens. Pronounced eye bags hung beneath his grey eyes and permanent worry lines creased his forehead. "Been a while."

"Sure has."

Dave offered Noctis his hand in greeting. Dirt coated the older man's fingernails and his hands looked like they required stronger chemicals than just hand soap to get them clean. He smelled of smoke and machine oil and his hand felt coarse to the touch.

"We sure could use that cannon. The Marshal will be pleased."

"Is he about? I have something I wish to discuss with him", Ignis interjected.

"He's overseeing the training. I'll let him know ya'll arrived."

"'Appriciate it", Noctis offered a final smile before turning back to Ignis while Dave quietly talked into his walkie-talkie.

"Nervous, Noct?"

The hunter chuckled. "You bet I am. That man is not easily pleased and I'm pretty sure he's not happy with me being missing in action for half a decade."

"Closer to a full decade considering you had the Commander keep your location hidden even from the Marshal."

"Don't remind me."

A stern man with a katana holstered on his hip approached the duo with swift long strides. His short brown hair was the same military-cut style it had been a decade back, but the colour had turned a shade or two lighter and his hairline had moved closer to the top of his head. The creases on his forehead and around his eyes were more pronounced and only highlighted his discernible displeasure. His brows were creased in a scowl and his lips were stretched to a thin, unhappy line. Were it any other man, Noctis would've described him as looking royally pissed. Not even Ignis' disapproving frown could compete with that of Cor Leonis.

"You're late." Cor's steely blue gaze scrutinized Noctis. "I expected your arrival an hour ago."

Ignis stepped forward. "Apologies, Marshal. We were stuck in traffic due to the crowds leaving for Lestallum. It is the market day, if you recall."

"A wise man plans ahead and leaves with ample time to spare." His eyes never left Noctis'. The younger man did his best not to squirm and shifted his weight in discomfort. "And what is your excuse?"

"I-", he began, but found it difficult to speak through the lump that had formed in his throat. "I needed time to come to terms with everything that's happened; Dad, Luna, the daemons…" Revenge against the Empire had long fuelled his perseverance, but when it had been robbed from him due to the daemon outbreak, he had lost his sight on what truly mattered. Prophesies, darkness… All vague concepts that he had no true knowledge of outside his contact with the Starscourge virus as a child. The Empire was something tangible and something he could hold responsible for the loss of his home, throne and love.

"For ten years?"

Noctis couldn't help flinching at the unforgiving tone. Ignis took pity on him and cut in: "Four. His Highness has been working under the Commander for the rest."

"Moping in seclusion and hiding beneath the Dragoon's skirts is ill-befit behaviour for a king. You have a duty to your people first and foremost."

Noctis lifted his chin in defiance and held the Marshal's hardened gaze. "I made a terrible mistake in Gralea, I know that now. I've tried to put on the ring, but the Lucii couldn't or wouldn't grant me their power. The Astrals have forsaken me and my only link to the Six-", his voice trembled slightly as he remembered the corpse he had fished from the ocean. "My only hope to make things right is waiting for burial in the fort's morgue."

A familiar burning sensation behind his eyes warned him of the incoming tears, but he didn't allow them fall. He wouldn't show weakness in front of the man who had no sympathy for sob stories. All of them had to deal with loss.

"I've worked every day since to make sure my people have a safe place to stay." He pointed at the hallowed floodlights. "If it weren't for me, Cindy wouldn't have been able to recreate the lights and this settlement along with all the others wouldn't be as safe as they are now." His voice exuded quiet determination. "I may not be the King of Light the prophecies foretold, but I will give my all to rebel the darkness and keep my people safe with the skillset that I have."

Cor's scowl softened to a frown. "There is the resolve I had hoped you still harboured." He clasped the younger man's shoulder, something resembling approval in his gruff voice. "And you shall further help your people today. You will accompany me to the Balouve Mines. If we are to arm every man and woman, they will need weapons. And to make weapons we need the resources the mine has to offer."

He left Noctis little choice, but if a trip to the mines was all it took to be forgiven in the Marshal's eyes, he would gladly do it. "That all?"

"Don't get cocky. Our previous attempts to reclaim it from the daemons haven't been successful. Miss Aurum is preparing a new weapon for us to utilise, specifically made for this operation. She still needs time to fine-tune it. In the meantime I would have you take the cannon out for a test run."

"Marshal-", Ignis began.

"I've handpicked three of my finest trainers to accompany you back to the Fort once we're done in the mines."

'That Cor… Always three steps ahead of us', Noctis mused.

Noctis walked back to the van to unload the cannon.

"Ignis, how do I do thi-?" He glanced around him. The blind brunet was nowhere to be seen. "Now where did he go?"

---

"Do you have the goods?"

"Got 'em right here. What about you? Do you have the cards?"

Ignis pulled out fifty ration cards from his pocket. While gil was still used, fresh vegetables were far more valuable. Ration cards were used by the people of Fort Highwind to partake in daily food provisions to ensure there was enough for everyone and no-one would take more than their share.

The shady Meldacio merchant let out a low whistle. "That's ten more than last time you checked in."

"Consider it a bonus after six years of partnership."

The merchant signalled his accomplice to push forward a cart filled with labelled boxes that read either 'Leiden pepper' or 'Quality cotton'.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Scientia. Your need for quality coffee will keep me and my mates' families sustained for years to come!"

"Tell your men to unload the cargo to the trailer once my companion unloads the cannon and is out of sight. And be subtle about it."

"You got it."

Ignis adjusted his clouded shades. A gesture the merchant had learnt to signal impatience or nervousness. "And be sure to put them in the back so my companion won't find out."

The merchant stuffed the ration cards in his coat's inner pocket. "Doesn't Highwind ever wonder why you buy so much pepper and cotton whenever you visit us?"

"I need only remind her of the blandness of the food-quality and how fast she goes through her capes when battling red giants."

"I dunno, man. I have a feeling she might be looking through her fingers, just 'cause it's you."

Ignis said nothing and briskly left before the man could voice more inane comments.

---

No matter how many times Noctis had ridden the ancient elevator, it didn't get any easier. He hated having to depend on something so unreliable. It creaked forebodingly as it slowly descended the men deep underground.

Dave fingered the nozzle of his flamethrower. As eager as the hunters had been to put the new cannon to use and clear the mines from fiends for good, they had to take the highway and use something less destructive. The last thing they needed was to accidentally destroy one of the walls holding up the structure and get buried alive.

The backpack of Dave's incendiary device consisted of three cylinders; the first two similar to a traditional flamethrower for holding compressed, inert propellant gas and flammable liquid, while the third had a tortuous tube made of crystal filled with magical fire in its raw form. Should he run out of the more potent firepower, he'd still have the regular version as a backup.

Cindy never ceased to impress Noctis with her creations. He could definitely see what appealed to Prompto – besides her rather obvious, uh, assets. Cid had sent his granddaughter a copy of the blueprints for the cannon's cartridges to be used in different weapons, such as the newly made flamethrower. It was still a prototype and hadn't been tested, but she was confident it would do the job.

Noctis twirled one of the crystal flasks between his fingers nervously. If the mines were anywhere near as dangerous as the last time he had been here, they'd be tightly pressed.

A heavy-built man with a traditional Galahdan hairstyle – Libertus, if he remembered correctly – elbowed him. "Put that away before you cause an accident." Noctis rolled his eyes and made the mistake to glance Cor's way. It took only a stern glare from the Marshal to make him obediently shove the flask back in his vest pocket. He opted to tap the hilt of his sword instead. Ignis sighed in irritation beside him, but Noctis paid him no mind.

Umbra's ears were flat against his head and his jaw was tightly clenched shut. He put up a brave front, but it was obvious he wasn't keen on going so far underground. Mines are no place for a dog, Cor had said as much. Noctis had ordered the canine to stay outside, but for some reason he had ignored him, cantered to the lift and refused to budge. One of the battle-hardened veteran hunters, Richard, had threatened to shoot the dog himself if the canine turned out to be a liability. Safe to say, Noctis had a thundaga flask with the hunter's name on it just itching to be used.

There were seven of them in total in the mine cage, excluding Umbra; Noctis, Ignis, Cor, Dave, Libertus, Richard and William. It was a somewhat tight fit, but they managed just about. The hallowed spotlight the size of his nightstand cast a pale blue light over their grim faces. William had taken the task to carry the heavy torch on his back.

Noctis hadn't had much chance to get to know the two hunters. What they seemed to lack in manners and charm, they most likely made up for with skills at arms. They had been personally trained by Cor, after all. Both carried a revolver, a flare gun, knives and a short sword.

Libertus, on the other hand, didn't appear ill-willed, merely reserved. He wasn't wearing the browns and greys of Meldacio Hunter HQ; instead he wore what appeared to be a modified Kingsglaive uniform. A breastplate in the shape of the symbol of Galahdan province protected his front. His face was covered in several pale scars which Noctis suspected were received from the numerous battles he had fought in the name of Lucis. Two holsters hung from his belt, each meant for a kukri of a different size.

Noctis shifted and turned to face the Galahdan. "You were part of the Kingsglaive?"

"Aye. What of it?" He warily eyed the former king.

"Where were you the day your king died?" Noctis knew it served no purpose to open old wounds, but he truly wanted to know what had really happened during the destruction of Insomnia. The only eyewitness he had spoken with was Iris.

"Escorting the Lady Lunafreya outside the city", the Galahdan gruffly replied.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Really?"

The glaive crossed his arms. "I don't have any reason to lie. The kings of Lucis are dead and I have no-one left to answer to."

Noctis could feel Cor's cool gaze on the back of his head. "I see."

Libertus' suspicion seemed to fade when he saw the hunter's shoulders hunch. "I can tell you wanna ask me something. Spill."

Noctis inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm himself. He had never expected to find another link to the past in a daemon infested mine of all places. "How was she? Was she hurt during the escape?"

"She got few bumps and bruises, but she made it out in one piece." His eyes crinkled in good humour. "I could tell she was a fighter. She might not have carried a weapon on her, but she sure knew how to make the best out of a sticky situation. Reminds me of someone else I knew." He fingered the smaller kukri with a fond smile.

"Thank you."

Libertus' brow lifted in question.

"For keeping her safe", Noctis specified.

Richard snorted. "You her secret ex-lover or something? Too bad it's late to cash-in on that scandal."

Noctis' hand was already removing the Engine Blade from his belt by the time Libertus butted in: "Knock it off, Dick."

With a final creak the lift reached its destination.

"I won't have any spats in my squad. Spare your aggression for the daemons", Cor barked. "The fiends have made their nest deep within this tunnel. Be on your guard."

He took point, hand readily resting on his katana's hilt. Noctis followed the Marshal's example. William removed the heavy spotlight from his back and held it against his hip to point the light forward. They followed the rails, all the while keeping a watchful eye for any incoming carts. Goblins were known to ambush any fools brave enough to wander through their claimed home territory. It was eerily quiet. Only the clanking of booted feet against the iron rails and Umbra's nails scratching the rocky path broke the silence. They reached a large room branching out in several smaller tunnels. There were still no signs of life.

The men turned to follow a narrow tunnel further down. Water trickled down from above them. Noctis lost his balance on several occasions as his feet slipped on the wet rocky ground. Thankfully Ignis was behind him and kept him upright and from making himself look like a fool in front of Cor and his men. Swallowing his pride, Noctis placed his hand against the cold stone wall for support. The sound of moving rocks alarmed the men.

"The structure doesn't sound stable", Ignis commented.

"It's not", Richard confirmed.

"Just great", Noctis muttered under his breath.

Umbra barked sharply in warning. A steady rumble and squeaking of wheels increased in volume.

"Watch out!"

A mine cart came out of the darkness and knocked William over who was at the rear and hadn't heard the warning. Several goblins jumped out of the cart and swarmed him. Cor was already engaging the meddlesome fiends while Richard pulled William to safety. The wounded hunter grunted in pain; he had hurt his leg badly from the crash and couldn't stay up on his feet. The spotlight had taken the brunt of the blow and was damaged beyond repair. Only the men's pocket torches lit up the tunnel.

Umbra turned to the opposite direction of the goblins and growled. Heavy footsteps alerted the hunters to a new presence. A tall, pale figure fearlessly walked beneath the shaft of Noctis' torchlight. Seeing its mutilated face and lidless onyx black eyes up close sent chills down the former king's spine. It held its long katana in a lazy hold, the blade resting against its shoulder. It bode its time as if waiting for something.

Another horde of goblins approached from behind it. Then, without warning, the tall daemon lunged forward and swiped its long blade to where Libertus' neck was just a split second ago. Anticipating the attack, Cor had rushed forward to parry the aramusha's strike. The Galahdan backed off from the duel and joined Ignis in dispatching the goblins.

"More coming from the rear!" Dave called. The air sizzled as magical flames burst out from the nozzle of the flamethrower. The stench of melting skin and boiling blood was nigh overwhelming. The goblins' loud screeches of pain seemed to only summon more fiends. The five hunters and a glaive had their hands full. Even Umbra joined the fray. With his jaws he snapped any wandering goblin's neck that dared to come too close to his master. Foul tasting black blood coated his fangs.

The aramusha took Cor by surprise and rushed past him straight towards Dave's unguarded back. Noctis hurried to protect the older man. Sparks flew as metal clashed with metal. His booted feet skidded backwards on the rocky floor from the force of the daemon's blow. Cor took the chance to slash at the daemon's back, but it was too quick; it kicked Noctis right in the stomach and sent him flying before turning around to parry the Marshal's attack.

Noctis landed next to Dave who immediately extinguished the flames to avoid burning his ally. The goblins rushed forward to overwhelm the defenceless flamethrower operator. Noctis pulled out his thundaga flask and let it fly among the pack of goblins. The whole tunnel lit up in blinding white light as lightning crackled and killed a dozen goblins, momentarily paralysing the rest of the daemons and allowing Noctis time to roll out of the flamethrower's line of fire. Dave continued his assault. Electricity continued to crackle from where Noctis' flask had landed and killed any goblins that made the mistake to step too close.

Richard and William had pushed the mining cart sideways and used it as cover to fire at the horde. Ignis joined Cor in engaging the aramusha while Libertus covered Dave's back. A familiar sound of high pitched gurgling came from behind the daemon leader.

Bombs.

Not good.

Noctis scrambled to his feet and ran past the tall daemon. The bombs were already increasing size at an alarming rate. He cleaved the closest bomb in half with his Engine Blade. It fell with a heavy thud, its dying flame illuminating the tunnel in hellish red light. Another three continued to grow. He managed to kill one more and engage another, but the last one evaded his slash and made its way to its master. Noctis wished now more than ever that he had his warping abilities.

With nothing else at hand, he took out his last magic flask – a leftover low-potency blizzard grenade – and threw it towards the daemon. The blizzard spell did little damage, but it slowed the bomb's advance enough for it to go off prematurely. The explosion destroyed the fragile structures supporting the roof. The last remaining bomb next to him followed the previous one's example and detonated. Noctis jumped for cover, but was thrown into air from the force of the blast. He landed painfully on the hard ground.

Rubble and jagged rocks fell and blocked the tunnel, separating him from the rest of the group. He lay still as dust and loose rocks showered down on him and waited for the loud rumble to come to a stop. The loose dirt covered the corpses of the bombs, hiding the light of their dying flames and encasing the tunnel in complete darkness once more.

Noctis couldn't hear the sound of fighting anymore. He couldn't hear anything at all besides his own ragged breathing and the sound of his racing heart. He inhaled the dusty air and coughed. Even with the aid of his torchlight he could hardly see through the haze. He waited for the dust to settle before he shakily stood up and attempted to wipe the excess dirt from his clothes. Grainy sand covered his hair and face. His mouth and ears hadn't been spared from the dirt shower, either. He spat out the muck and wiped his dirty face with an equally dirty sleeve. Some mess he had gotten himself in.

He was trapped. He moved to the rubble blocking the path to his friends and attempted to push, but nothing moved. It was as impassable as the sealed doors of old he had read about in stories. He felt sick. Sweat formed on his brow and upper lip. Blood gushed loudly in his ears and his breathing grew erratic. Instinctively he clutched to his pained chest and fought against the panic attack that threatened to take hold of him.

I'mgonnagetburiedaliveI'mgonnagetburiedalive-

'Keep calm, Noct', he ordered himself. Funnily enough his inner rational voice sounded like Ignis.

His head felt light. He couldn't breathe properly and only managed to inhale short gasps of thick grainy air.

'Breathe in, breathe out. That's it.'

He took in a long shuddering breath and exhaled it as slowly and calmly as he could. He continued his breathing exercise until he was certain the hyperventilating had passed.

Noctis leant against the wall. What was he to do now? He took out his walkie-talkie to inform his companions of his current situation. There wasn't even any static crackling in response, only dead silence. With few options available, Noctis turned to face the opposite side and searched for a way out of the enclosed space. His torchlight found a rock formation that looked loose enough to be moved. Carefully he pushed and was rewarded with a low peal as rocks tumbled and formed a small hole. He slipped his sword through it before crawling out of the death trap.

He took a long whiff of the stale underground air. His headache lessened as his lungs got their fill of oxygen. Rocks crumbled ominously above him. The structure was still unstable.

He walked in silence for good five minutes before the sound of squealing stopped him in his tracks. He covered the torchlight with the palm of his gloved hand and held his breath while standing completely still. A small pack of goblins emerged from a junction. They halted as if sensing his presence and sniffed the air dubiously. They crept closer to his hiding spot. Once they were only a spear's length away, Noctis uncovered the torchlight and killed the momentarily blinded goblins.

Two goblins had stayed far enough to avoid getting blinded and sneaked in from the side to assault him. Noctis blocked the first one's attack and send it flying back with a hard push from the flat side of his blade, but not before the goblin successfully snatched one of the two remaining potion bottles he carried on his person. The daemon stumbled briefly from the blow, but didn't let go of its prize. It chugged down the contents of his potion and cackled gleefully. Stunned by the dirty trick, Noctis failed to react on time as the second goblin reached him, its poisonous fangs digging through the fabric of his sleeve into his arm. With a yelp of pain, Noctis kicked off the creature. Its sharp teeth ripped his flesh as it was forcefully dislodged from its prey. Not wasting any time, the hunter impaled the off-balanced goblin.

The last remaining goblin squeaked and fled with his empty potion bottle clutched between its bony hands.

The poison worked surprisingly fast. Already Noctis was feeling its affects; his breathing grew laborious and his limbs felt heavy as lead. His head swam as he stumbled forward, his hold on the Engine Blade slackening until the blade's tip scraped the dusty ground. He tripped and fell heavily on his side. The sylleblossom fell from his pocket and landed in front of him. He couldn't summon the strength to even lift his head. He was so tired. He wanted badly to take a nap.

Just five minutes.

His eyes drifted shut.

---

Somebody was crying. Noctis opened his heavy eyelids and blinked at the blurry image of something blue in front of him. The sweet smell of the sylleblossom gradually helped clear the fog from his head. Sitting up, he noted he was still in the mines and separated from his friends. His arm was sore from where the goblin had bitten him. He took the last remaining potion bottle on him and emptied its content on the wound. He ripped a strip of cloth from his undershirt and wiped it clean from the dirt and dust before wrapping it around the swollen limb. He had no antidotes on him; Ignis carried most of their medical supplies. He could only hope the potion was enough. He took the fallen flower and put it back in his pocket. Curiously enough his limbs didn't feel nearly as heavy as they had before, even if he was still wobbly and unfocused.

A sharp sob reminded him of an unseen presence. Picking up the Engine Blade, Noctis staggered towards the sound. Was someone else stuck down here? How long had they been here?

"It's okay, I won't hurt you", he slurred. His tongue felt unusually thick in his mouth.

He came to a crossroad and paused to listen. The sniffling and sobbing was muffled as if the crying person was hiding under a thick blanket. He followed the sounds to an empty room and stumbled over discarded mining equipment. The shaft of his torchlight found its target huddled against the stone wall. He instantly recognised the faded white dress, now covered in dust.

"Luna?"

The crying quieted down. She lifted her head and warily watched him.

"How did you get down here?" Head buzzing, he nearly lost his balance as he stumbled beside her. His feet were numb and he couldn't trust any of his senses to guide him safely. His eyesight occasionally blurred, his ears rang as if he had stood next to a firing turret for too long and he constantly felt like he was free-falling and about to phase through the floor. That poison must've done a number on him. His current condition reminded him of his 18th birthday when Prompto had taken him to a sleazy bar in the outskirts of the city to celebrate. He hadn't realised how drunk he was until it was too late.

Ungracefully he slumped down next to her.

"You let me die."

His eyes widened in surprise. He could hardly believe his ears. She was actually talking! All he managed was a clever "Huh?" in reply.

"You let me die", she repeated. Hands fell from her tearstained cheeks and she turned to glare at him insistently. "You let me die for nothing."

Words failed him. He could only gape at her and stutter incomprehensibly.

"I showed you by example what it meant to sacrifice everything for the good of all of Eos. Yet here you are, doing nothing to stop the Scourge and end all suffering. You made a promise to me!"

His heart thudded rapidly against his ribcage, his hands were clammy and he could feel adrenaline rush through his veins. Suddenly he was hyper aware of his surroundings and of her smallest movements. In the back of his mind he wondered what caused this abrupt alertness when just a moment ago he had felt so sluggish.

Little Luna continued her relentless accusing. "I thought you loved me! I thought you wanted to be with me, forever!" she cried hysterically. Tears welled in her bright blue eyes as she wrinkled the hem of her dress between her small hands in distress.

Noctis cradled her head between his palms. "I do love you. I do want to be with you."

Her eyes focused on his in an intense stare. "Then why?" She grabbed him by the vest. "Why won't you join me in death?"

Dread gnawed at his insides. Kill himself? And leave his friends and the people who depend on him?

"I still have people here who need me." He stroked her icy cheek with a thumb and rested his forehead against hers. "Please. Wait for me, Luna."

She lowered her gaze, her hold on his collar tightening. "I'm done waiting."

Her eyes gleamed yellow. Something oozed from the seams of her layered face. A trail of black blood trickled down from her hairline and over her eye, all the way down to the dress' neckline. She unsteadily stood up as more blood dripped from her nostrils, mouth, ears and eye sockets. Soon her whole face was covered in the foul fluid and the top of her white dress was soaked from it. Noctis scrambled on his feet and backed away from her.

"If you won't do your duty and would have me die in vain, then grant me this one satisfaction." She cornered him against the wall. He had nowhere to run. "Share my suffering!"

The bones of her small fingers crunched and popped as they stretched and grew into long sharp claws similar to an arachne's and tore his vest and shirt open. She ripped his skin with ease and dug into his meat. His stomach lurched as her twitching fingers wiggled between his muscles. He wanted to scream, but his parched throat managed only a guttural gasp. She let go of the collar to concentrate on scrabbling at his meat. He felt faint and was certain he would've collapsed had she not held him put with the hand that twitched between his muscles.

Seemingly happy with herself, she removed her bloodied pawing hand and punched hard enough for his ribcage to shatter. She split the bones and carelessly tossed them over her shoulder before pausing to admire her work. She looked like a child celebrating her birthday as she pulled his heart out. His veins were still attached to the pulsing organ. Seeing them stretch made his stomach churn from nausea. He heard a sickening, wet squelch when his veins snapped from the tension and released his heart. She held the still beating heart in front of his eyes. He heaved uncontrollably and vomited bile on her white bony arms. She didn't appear bothered by the stinking body fluid in the slightest and merely cooed at him.

"Don't worry, dear Noctis." Her voice was eerily soft, almost like a sweet lullaby. "I will safeguard your heart just as you have kept mine safe for all these years."

Numb hands found the hilt of his sword. The blade punctured her lungs. With a raspy wheeze she collapsed to the ground after he dislodged the blackened blade from her petite body. He staggered backwards and dropped the sword, horror written all over his shell-shocked face. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fainted next to her still body.

---

With a startled gasp Noctis sat up and clutched his chest. Dropping his gaze, he was relieved to see his clothes intact and his body hale and healthy. He was drenched in cold sweat and his clothes clung to him like a second skin. The calming scent of a sylleblossom invaded his nostrils. It was like a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy and still air of the mines. But it wasn't the only scent he could smell; a familiar stale stench crept up his nose. Noctis turned his torchlight to point towards the source.

His blood ran cold and the torchlight fell from his trembling hand.

Next to his bloodied Engine Blade lay a pair of bony white feet. Even with the upper body shrouded in shadows, he could tell the limbs were twisted in an unnatural angle.

Had he truly…?

A dry sob wrecked his frame. He attempted to stand up, but his legs were barely responsive. With a frustrated gnarl, he forced himself on all fours and crawled towards the small body. Just as he was within arm's reach, the pale legs began to move. He halted and watched with bated breath. Was she alive? A quiet scraping of flesh across the hard floor was the only sound he could hear. Something dragged the body further away into the darkness, leaving behind a black-blooded trail.

"No!"

Picking his torchlight, he lost his balance and collapsed. With only arms mobile, he dragged his body forward. Following the trail, he came to a small hole that was barely large enough to fit a goblin or a child's body inside. He stuck his arm into the hole and felt around. A layer of something sticky covered the floor and squelched between his fingers. His hand enclosed around something solid and withdrew to hold it next to the torchlight. His hand and arm were covered in wet slosh that consisted of foul smelling daemon manure mixed with rotten black blood. In his hand he held a broken piece of a goblin skull. With a repulsed shudder, he tossed it away.

He peeked into the hole, but couldn't see anything. His only reward was the disgusting stench of daemon waste. He heard a wet snap as if a limb was pulled out of its socket. Quiet gnawing and munching echoed from the daemon nest followed by an occasional pleased hiss. He pulled out of the hole and threw up. Yellow liquid trickled down his chin even after finishing emptying his stomach. He wiped the drops of bile from his beard. His throat felt like it was burning and tears blurred his vision. He had killed her and left her remains to be defiled.

Not wanting to listen to the sickening symphony, he crawled back to where he had left his sword.

As he reached his soiled weapon, his torchlight hit something reflective. He forced himself to sit upright and picked up the see-through item. It was a potion bottle. And not just any potion bottle, but the very same one the goblin had stolen from him. How did it get here? Why hadn't the goblin brought its buddies to finish him off while he had been unconscious?

He held his head as the familiar buzzing intensified. His body was still fighting against the poison.

He hadn't felt so utterly alone for a long time. Ever since discovering his friendly ghost, he had felt like someone was always following and watching his back. She had saved him from getting ambushed during the daemon raid and showed where the injured chocobo was. He was fairly certain he had her to thank for his swift recovery from the elemental cannon's blizzard blast as well.

How come she wanted him to kill himself? Was it truly her or had he been hallucinating thanks to the goblin poison? He desperately wanted to believe it had been just the figment of his messed up imagination, but the lifeless body and the fresh blood on his blade were evidence he had hard time ignoring.

But what if…?

He glanced at the empty potion bottle and the black trail leading to the unknown creature's nest.

Little Luna never spoke when he was conscious. The only time they had engaged in a conversation had been while he was knocked unconscious from the blizzard blast, and even then she had only told him to get better for his friends' sake. She never accused him of his failures or demanded him to pay a blood price. On the contrary, she always made sure he stayed alive.

With a trembling hand, he took out the fragile blue flower out of his pocket and inhaled its aromatic scent. The throbbing lessened and he felt the numbness of his legs gradually fade away. Maybe the flower had some kind of healing properties against venom? It seemed to be slowing down the poison from taking over. He distantly recalled Luna telling him that sylleblossoms were used in hygiene products such as soaps as well as in medicine. They grew everywhere in Tenebrae and were therefore cheap ingredients.

His hope rekindled, Noctis wrapped his scarf around his lower face and placed the flower beneath the makeshift mask. He breathed in its sweet fragrance and waited for the buzzing to stop. Once confident he could stay on his feet, he stood up using his sword as support.

Even now Little Luna was saving him. Had she not placed the flower in his vest, he would've succumbed to the poison hours ago.

He left the room and stopped at the crossroad to listen. He could barely hear distant tumbling of rocks and high-pitched squealing of goblins coming from the opposite tunnel. It might lead him back to the fight and back to his companions, but he was in no condition to fight endless hordes of daemons. His mind made up, he took a turn to the right.

The tunnel led up and away from the stale stench of daemon waste. The further he went, the clearer the air smelt. A sudden loud static made him jump and nearly hit his head on the roof.

'-oct. Come in, Noct.' The wave of relief was nearly overwhelming after hours of constant tension.

He quickly brought his hand to the walkie-talkie. He took a calming breath and readied his aloof pretence. "Present. I'm alright, just took a detour down in daemon latrine. Amazing stuff."

'Glad to hear your humour is still intact', the strategist dryly commented.

"How're you guys? All still in one piece?"

There was a brief silence on Ignis' end. 'I'm afraid we lost Richard during the cave in. He was crushed under heavy debris while he tried to carry William to safety. He tripped over a goblin corpse and William fell from his back. Thankfully Libertus managed to pull William out of the danger, but we couldn't do anything for Richard. He died instantly.'

Noctis sent a silent prayer for the hunter's soul. He might've not liked the man, but he didn't wish death for anyone.

"I see."

---

The sight of torchlight shafts had never been so welcome in his life. Umbra ran to him without restraint. Noctis chuckled and allowed the dog to fawn over him.

"Good to see you, too. Was lonely without you." He patted the dark-furred head affectionately.

Ignis held his nose. "You truly smell like you've been living in the sewers for the past week." Like all of the men, the blind brunet was covered in dust. The hems of his glaive uniform were burnt, presumably from friendly-fire.

Libertus, who was carrying an unconscious William on his back, halted when his torchlight illuminated the dark-haired hunter. "Damn, you look like you've been through hell."

Noctis looked down at himself. His dominant arm was caked in black stinking slosh while the other had a soaked-through rag covering his wound. He looked like someone had rolled him in tar and thrown him into a pit of dirt. Prompto would kill for that photo.

Cor eyed the rag wrapped around Noctis' arm. "Ignis, take out your medical kit. He is injured." Unsurprisingly the grim Marshal was the least injured out of all of them. Only indication of a struggle was the dirt and sweat covering his skin. Noctis was a little disappointed he didn't get to see the showdown between the aramusha and former Crownsguard. He would've preferred that by far to what he had to witness while separated from his companions. Forcing the images, sounds and smells out of his mind with a shake of his head, h concentrated on what was before him.

Ignis immediately took his kit from his rucksack. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

"A goblin bit me on the arm. I feel a little woozy, but otherwise I'm okay."

The tactician frowned as he fumbled to find the injured arm. He removed his gloves and discarded Noctis' makeshift bandage to feel the wound with his fingertips.

"Ow! No need to press it. It hurts enough without you adding to it."

Ignis ignored him and cleaned the wound. He had Noctis drink an antidote while he wrapped the hunter's arm in a fresh bandage.

"I'm impressed ya'll made it this far on your own and while injured", Dave commented. His voice was gruff yet warm. "Doesn't take more than one bite from a goblin for a man to kick the bucket." Noctis noted the older man was favouring his other leg as he stood. If he squinted, he could see the outlines of a bandage hugging his injured thigh beneath the grey hunter slacks. Scratch marks covered the bare tattooed arms. His other sleeve was ripped from where the aramusha's katana had grazed him.

Libertus lowered William down and straightened his back. "Sounds like he's got the favour of one of the Six", he lightly joked. The Galahdan's breastplate was falling apart. He must've taken a heavy hit sometime during the fight. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead where he had received a new gash to add to his scar collection.

"Wouldn't count on that", Noctis mumbled.

Once his wound was taken care of and Ignis had made sure Dave and Libertus drank another potion to keep their wounds from reopening, the men trekked to the elevator and returned to the surface. Noctis couldn't help but notice how spacious the mine cage felt with Richard's absence. William woke up, but refused to acknowledge any of them. Libertus quietly explained to Noctis that Richard had been William's step-brother and the only family he had left. It was best to let him grieve in peace for now.

The ride back up went by in a flash as Noctis mulled over all that had happened down in the mines. He would have to ask Prompto if he had seen Little Luna while he'd been away. He still felt unsure about relying on his senses, even as the sylleblossom kept him sober and the antidote continued to purge the poison from his bloodstream. He wasn't sure he could tell the difference between sleep and awake anymore. He could only hope it was a temporary state.

The rusty cage-doors opened. He hurried out into the open space and deeply inhaled the cool air. He had no idea how long they had been down there, but it felt like days. He had almost given up on smelling fresh air ever again while stumbling alone in the darkness, poison weighing his limbs down.

"We have cleared most of the mines", Cor informed him. "Libertus, take him and William to the Stronghold's medic. Ignis, Dave. Get yourselves looked after as well. I will bring another team tomorrow to wipe out the leftover daemons."

"Yes, sir!"

Noctis made to follow the rest of the men back to the car when Cor's hand on his shoulder halted him. He glanced quizzically at the older man.

"You did well, Majesty. You saved us from getting buried alive."

Noctis lowered his gaze. "Hardly. Richard's dead thanks to me. Had I been faster, the bombs wouldn't have gone off."

"No use mulling over what ifs. You can waste away years thinking what could've been." His steely blue eyes softened. "I should know. I've carried the weight of your father's death on my shoulders all these years. For three years I searched for you, Majesty. I thought I had failed you as well and that the line of Lucis had ended."

Noctis lifted his hand to clasp Cor's coarse one. "You've never failed me, Marshal. You did your best to ensure the people of Leide had a safe place to stay. I couldn't ask for more."

Cor briefly squeezed his shoulder before briskly walking to the vehicle. He was already contacting the Stronghold to make sure the medical staff was ready to receive them.

They stayed in Meldacio Stronghold overnight. It was quite a different experience from his time in the Fort's infirmary. For one, they had actual beds instead of having tables posing as beds. An elderly lady came every hour to check on him and the monitor plugged to him. So far everything seemed good. The antidotes were doing their job to cleanse his blood and the medical herb tea she had prepared for him helped him to calm down. Umbra was allowed to lie next to his bed. Libertus, Dave and William were also recovering in the same building, but were kept in separate rooms. Ignis had suffered no serious injuries and decided to sleep among civilians.

Noctis fingered the bright blue flower. He had kept it hidden from everyone, including his companions and the medical staff. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to hide it. It wasn't like anybody would take it from him and demand to make it into an antidote. He switched off the lights and cradled the bloom next to his face.

---

The first thing Noctis did once he arrived to Fort Highwind was to find Prompto. He found the blond man at Cid's garage, staring intently at a blueprint as if trying to make heads or tails out of it. Cid might be a genius, but deciphering his hieroglyphs was another matter entirely.

"Hey, Noct. Did Cor roughen you up good?" He grinned.

"He didn't need to. The daemons did that for him." Noctis replied dryly. "He took us to clear the Balouve mines with Cindy's newest creation."

Prompto instantly perked up and set the papers down. "What did she invent this time? Anything cool? I tell you, man, she's amazing! Can you imagine a romantic date in the garage; surrounded by machinery and the smell of chemicals and armed with a tool box? The things we could teach each other-"

"A flamethrower using elemental energy", Noctis interrupted his gushing. As endearing as it was, he really didn't need to know all the juicy details of Prompto's Cindy-related fantasies.

"Did it work?"

"Yeah, we got the place cleared up." No need to tell him of the more gruesome details. They all had their own demons to deal with. No pun intended.

"Listen, Prompto." Noctis scratched the back of his neck in an attempt to keep himself calm. "Have you seen Little Luna while I was away?"

"Nope. But the real deal is still kept in the morgue. The rest of the hunters were buried outside the fort, but since she doesn't stink like a corpse should, they let her chill."

Noctis sighed in relief. He wanted to be there when it came time to say his final goodbye.

"Apparently Aranea got some phone-calls from Tenebrae's ambassador requesting her to be brought back to her homeland to be buried. They want to give her a proper ceremony fit for an Oracle."

"Do you have any idea when it's scheduled to take place?"

Prompto shrugged. "In a few weeks. They're making a fancy pall for the coffin and everything. Dunno much about funerals, but apparently they require a lot of work and the Tenebraeans wanna make it the best they can or something."

"Thanks."

So Little Luna was missing. No big deal, he had been away only two days. He refused to entertain the thought that he had truly killed her in the mines. She was just busy. Doing ghostly things.

His excuses did little to ease the knot of dread that had formed in his belly.

---

Noctis woke up with a startled gasp. His pulse raced and his heart felt like it was about to tear itself out of his chest. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat and trembling like a leaf. He glanced at the green digits of Prompto's newly purchased alarm clock. The blond hunter had bought it as a souvenir from Lestallum. It was shaped like a chocobo's head. Noctis wasn't sure if it was meant for him or Prompto. He liked to think he had outgrown his youth's habit of sleeping in. Normally the goofy clock made him smile, but tonight he could only remember a chocobo with a bloodied rag covering her eyes and how she had slumped down like a ragdoll when he put a bullet through her brain.

His sheets were damp. It was his third night terror that night. Thankfully Noctis had managed to persuade Prompto to go visit Cindy and therefore wasn't present to witness what a mess he was. He had let Umbra out after waking from his second night terror. Sometimes Umbra took it on himself to make rounds around the fort as if he was serving as eyes for someone. Gentiana, perhaps? It was almost comforting to think one of the Six still cared about the decaying remains of humanity. Almost.

Noctis kicked off his covers and sat up. He couldn't take this anymore. He was under constant strain from anxiety attacks and plagued by images of the past few weeks. He felt like he was stuck watching a never-ending loop of a shitty home video. He saw the mutilated faces of the hunters that had died in the daemon raid. He saw himself killing an innocent animal as an act of mercy, the chocobo's blood splattering over the embodiment of his most precious memories.

He saw Luna and Ardyn. He could still vividly recall every detail from that day; how her light blue eyes had widened in surprise as a knife dug into her flesh, how she had bled black blood as the corruption within her frail body threatened to eat her from the inside, how her hair had come free from the elegant braids, how she had defiantly stood her ground in the face of death and attempted to free her killer from the curse of his own making.

But most of all, he saw Little Luna. He saw her getting strangled by imps and heard her terrified scream. He saw her glassy eyes widen when he betrayed her trust and attempted to rip her mask off. He heard the faint gurgle as his sword impaled her plague-ridden body. He heard the distant munching of daemons feasting on her remains.

Noctis hurried out of his dorm to the restroom and emptied what little was left of the contents of his stomach. Shivering, he spat the foul taste from his mouth and washed his face. A pale reflection with sunken bloodshot eyes stared back at him. His shirt had visible sweat patches. He looked like hell.

Noctis staggered out of the restroom and made his way to the infirmary. He needed something to calm his nerves. Only a single nurse was on duty at this time of night. It was easy enough to sneak past her to the storage room where the drugs were kept. He found the pill dispenser with ease – he had stolen from it three times that week. Despite not knowing much about drugs, he had had become acquainted with oxymorphone during his stay in the infirmary and found out it was easy to get high as a kite from them.

Without hesitation, he popped a handful of pills in his mouth and replaced the dispenser in its shelf. Carefully he cracked the door open and made sure the coast was clear before sneaking back to the corridor. Now all he needed was to get back to his dorm and enjoy the brief break from his nightmares.

"Noct?"

Fuck.

He froze in his tracks and toyed with the thought of making a run for it, but realised he'd just postpone the inevitable. Iris caught up with him. She was wearing nothing but a long-hemmed faded shirt as a nightgown and her farmer-boots. Long brown tresses were tied to a loose braid that rested over her shoulder. Her hands were damp from a recent wash. She must've come from the restroom and spied on him. It would seem he wasn't the only one with sleeping problems.

"So it was you." She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him sternly. "I heard the nurses talk about drugs disappearing. I didn't expect you to be our resident junkie."

"Leave me alone."

She grabbed his arm before he could turn his back on her. "Noct, I can see you're hurting. Let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't sleep when I keep seeing her die", he slurred. His eyes were glazing over from the drugs. "I killed her and now she won't visit me anymore."

Iris frowned in confusion. "Who are you talking about? Who won't visit you?"

"Littl'un", he mumbled.

"Little one?" Iris echoed. "Noct, you're not making any sense."

He pulled his arm free and pushed past her. Thinking he had reached safety, he opened the dorm's door only to have Iris slam it shut.

"Noct, you've been like this over a week. You're distant and hurting. Your actions don't make any sense to me!"

Irritated, he grabbed her by the wrist, opened the door and shoved her inside. He closed the door behind him and staggered to his bunk. Iris sat down next to him. Her sylleblossom scented shampoo only reminded him of the fleeting moments of happiness he had shared with Little Luna. Had he known his days with her were numbered, he would've done something more. He wouldn't have let her out of his sight.

He snapped out of his melancholic musings when Iris shyly took his hand in hers. Her sincere hazel eyes were so different from Luna's pale blue ones. They were warm and easily approachable, just like her brother's, yet they seemed to lack something.

Whereas Iris' eyes seemed to always shine with admiration and awe, Luna's cool blue gaze had regarded him as an equal – even when he had felt inferior as a crippled, plague-ridden boy. The four year age gap had done little to help him feel like he could one day stand as her equal, but time and time again she managed to push such insecure thoughts away with a mere turn of her lips. When she smiled, the very air surrounding them had felt warmer. Only Luna could melt his heart so effortlessly, even when his only window to her soul had been the vacant, glassy eyes of Little Luna. His heart ached as he remembered how Little Luna had laughed and smiled when they danced. He'd never see that sunny smile again.

"I'm here for you, Noct. If there's anything at all that I can do to help, I will."

Iris' bare thigh lightly pressed against his as she leant closer. Her smooth hand felt warm around his. It was nothing like the small chilled hand of Little Luna.

Iris was alive.

Luna was gone.

"Anything?" His voice was husky and his throat felt dry.

"Anything." She squeezed his hand, her lips parting in anticipation.

"I want to forget." He dropped his gaze to his lap and took a shuddering breath. "For one night, I want to forget everything."

His head swam. He could already feel the first wave of euphoria from the pills hitting him in full force. He barely registered as the clothes came off and her small, pink mouth covered his.

---

Something soft and warm was pressed against him. He could hear cries of seagulls and smell sea salt. Was he in Altissia? Drowsily he opened his fogged eyes and looked down to see his wife's golden head resting against his chest. Their thin blanket was tangled between their feet. He saw her wedding dress hanging next to the wardrobe while his suit had been lazily tossed over the back of a chair. Noctis found his wife's hand and fingered her wedding band. How come he had no recollection of the day before? Had he been drinking too much in the after party?

She stirred, but remained asleep. Her bare skin glowed under the morning sun. They lay in the bed for what felt like hours, but she showed no signs of waking up. Deciding he wanted to surprise her by bringing her breakfast to the bed, he carefully disentangled his limbs from hers and sat up.

He caught his reflection on the mirror of the vanity table. He was suffering from a serious case of bed hair, but it wasn't anything a brush and hair gel couldn't fix. He approached the mirror and rubbed his smooth chin. Something was off and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Somehow his face felt foreign, like he was seeing someone else's face. But it was clearly him, so why-?

Shrugging, he opened the blinders. The morning sun suddenly vanished behind the horizon and the previously warm sea breeze dropped in temperature. With a shudder, Noctis closed the balcony door and went to retrieve clothes from the wardrobe. It was so dark he had to switch the lights on. Instead of the expected yellow glow, the room was illuminated in hallowed blue light.

What was going on?

He sat down next to his wife and gently shook her to wake her up. Her healthy, slightly tanned skin from the Altissian sun had turned to a sickly pale white. Seaweed was tangled between her wet locks.

"Luna?"

She rolled over to lie on her back. Her single lifeless eye stared blankly into oblivion. The skin on her cheek and arm stretched until it tore to form holes from which he could see bones and rotten flesh. Something moved underneath her skin and made its way up her throat to her mouth. A shellfish poked its head out between her parted lips, another from her open cheek. Water trickled down from her nostrils and the corners of her mouth.

Her clouded eye turned to stare at him as she lay paralyzed. All he could do was watch as the critters multiplied and feasted on her flesh.

---

Noctis sat up and stared at his trembling hands. Another nightmare. It had begun pleasantly enough, but it didn't last. They never did. Nothing seemed to work. Not sleeping pills, not drugs, not even-

He turned to stare at Iris' curled up body beside him. He felt sick. He couldn't believe he had slept with her just to distract himself from his guilt and grief. Carefully he climbed off the bed as not to wake her up and put on his clothes. He needed a shower. Badly. He snatched his towel, faded black jeans and clean skull-printed shirt that still faintly smelled of his soap – of Little Luna – from the wardrobe and silently left the dorm.

He undressed in the locker room and made his way to the showers. Dozen other people were already there when he arrived. The dorms were assigned to groups and each group had timed food serving and showers to avoid overcrowding. His assigned showering time wasn't due for another hour. Not paying any mind to the people or the occasional confused glance cast his way, he made his way to a shower stand, turned on the water and adjusted the temperature to freezing cold. He closed his eyes.

He couldn't remember anything coherent from last night with Iris; just detached sounds and sensations. He suspected he had kept his eyes closed throughout the affair. Perhaps he had even tried to convince his drugged mind that he was in Luna's arms. Would explain the dream he had had afterwards. He was glad for his hazy memory, but he couldn't erase the night completely from his mind. Removing all evidence from his filthy skin and bed sheets was one thing, but what about Iris? She would remember everything without a doubt. What would she think? Gladio was going to skin him alive if he found out.

To think just before he arrived to Meldacio Stronghold he had been vehemently denying sleeping with Iris to Ignis. How much could happen in a week.

He used the same soap he had used to clean Little Luna to scrub his own skin until it was red and raw. The cold water numbed him to the pain. He turned off the water and wiped his eyes, but his vision remained blurry. Was he crying? His clogged nose confirmed his suspicion.

He dried and dressed himself in his clean spare clothes before leaving and heading upstairs to the surface. He needed fresh air and didn't want to deal with Iris right now. Once Prompto returned from Hammerhead to save his sorry hide from the brunette's wrath, he'd go back to his dorm and wash the sheets.

"Hey, Prince!"

Noctis sharply turned to glare at the dragoon. "Shout that a little louder, will you."

"What's gotten your boxers in a twist?" Aranea arched an eyebrow at him, her hand resting on her hip.

He pointedly ignored her remark. "Do you have work for me?"

"My, you sound almost eager." She teased. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm only here on Specs' behalf. You weren't answering your HT."

The walkie-talkie was clipped to his vest and he had left said vest in the dorm. He sincerely hoped Iris hadn't answered it as he really didn't want to go through the drama this early in the morning.

"Lead the way, Boss-lady."

Aranea took him to the command tower's elevator and placed a key card on the reader before choosing the top floor as their destination. No bumbling civilians were allowed anywhere near the sensitive computers and equipment. They found Ignis at his work desk, sipping Ebony as he listened to the pre-recorded female voice go through the MT-reports. Noctis suspected it had to be annoying listening to the monotonous voice all day long, but the blind man had little choice if he wanted to work on his own. And if Noctis knew Ignis at all, he dared to claim the ambassador preferred to not rely on other people if given the choice.

"Not like you to ignore a call, Noct", Ignis commented and set his coffee mug down.

Aranea walked to him and leant down to peck him on the lips. "I'll leave you boys to it." With a final caress across Ignis' jaw, she left the room, the heels of her leather boots clicking loudly against the concrete floor.

They waited until she had disappeared inside the elevator.

"So what's this about?" Noctis settled down in a worn leather office chair.

"Something has been bothering me for a while now. You recall the incident in the mines? The poison you suffered from was highly potent and should've rendered you unconscious within minutes. Yet we found you wide awake – sober even – hours after you got poisoned."

Noctis uncomfortably shifted in his seat and rubbed the still healing skin of his arm. He wondered if he would have to carry goblin-fang shaped scars for the rest of his life. "I did put a potion on the wound."

Ignis leant forward and rested his elbows on the desk. "Noct, I can tell when you're withholding information."

He should've known by now. Nothing went past Ignis. "I might've carried a sylleblossom in my pocket."

The brunet straightened in surprise. "Ah, I was wondering how come you smelled like Iris' shampoo. That would explain it. You were aware of its medical properties, I take it?"

"No, I-" He scratched the back of his neck as he searched for the correct words. "I carried it for sentimental reasons."

Ignis furrowed his brows in bafflement. "So you didn't make fine powder of its petals and mix it with water or a potion to drink it?"

"Ah, no." He was in for it now.

"May I ask where you received a sylleblossom? As far as I'm aware, the Tenebraeans sell only finished products, not raw ingredients."

How could he explain? He had no proof of Little Luna's existence, not anymore. Except for the vase-

Oh shit!

Iris was in his dorm. She'd notice the flowers without a doubt. Not only would he have to explain to Ignis how he murdered the embodiment of his lover's soul – he didn't really know how else to describe her, she didn't exactly fit the 'ghost' -category – he would also have to explain to Iris why he had flowers not native to Lucis in his dorm. He was already in deep enough mess. He didn't want to hurt her feelings further by admitting he had bedded her just to forget about the person who owned his heart.

"Noct?"

He flinched. "It's a long story."

"We have time, don't we?" Ignis leant back on his leather chair and crossed his gloved hands across his abdomen, his coffee forgotten.

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

Noctis sighed. "You remember how I was searching for something that I wasn't sure if it existed?"

Ignis hummed in confirmation.

"I've been seeing Luna a lot ever since I found her body. She gave me the flower."

The older man inhaled sharply. "My word."

Noctis dropped his gaze to his single motorcycle glove, his shoulders slumping under the heavy burden of guilt and shame. He wasn't ready to talk about Little Luna.

"Have you thanked her for saving you?" He could hear the smile in the blind brunet's voice.

He lifted his head. "Huh?"

"Surely you haven't lost your manners."

Of course. He still had the notebook. Maybe, just maybe-!

"I gotta go!" he announced and dashed to the elevator.

---

He found Umbra waiting for him outside the command tower. The dog barked in greeting.

"Hey, boy." Noctis knelt and scratched behind the canine's ears. "You didn't come keep me company last night." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Maybe that's for the best."

Umbra's presence might have prevented him from doing what he did, but in the end he had no-one but himself to blame. The dog hadn't saved him from his night terrors or his night-time visits to the infirmary.

Noctis took the notebook from its casing and flipped it open to a blank spread. He tapped the end of his pen against the page in thought. This was Luna, he reminded himself. He didn't need to dress his gratitude in fancy words. She would understand. She had told him a long time ago to be himself and not care about royal protocol. It was between only the two of them. He wrote in slow and precise penmanship. Only his best handwriting would suffice.

'Thank you for your thoughtful gift, Luna. It saved my life. I hope this message reaches you, wherever you are. I miss you.'

He read and reread his words before glancing at Umbra. He wasn't sure what he had expected, for her words to just magically appear next to his? He had to be patient. Noctis closed the book and put it back in its holster.

"Deliver that for me, will you?"

Umbra wagged his tail, but made no move to follow his request. Was it because there was no-one to deliver it to anymore? Or did he simply not need to move when Luna wasn't physically bound to this world? Maybe she had already written her answer?

He took the notebook and checked his entry. The page next to it remained blank. His heart fell in disappointment. With a sad sigh he left to assist Cid while waiting for Prompto's return.

---

Noctis lay in bed and went through the photos Prompto had taken. Hammerhead garage hadn't changed much since he last visited. The diner had gone through drastic interior changes as it no longer served as a resting place for weary travellers but as a last line of defence against invaders from Insomnia.

Cindy had let her blond curly locks grow past her shoulders and kept them in low pigtails. Her formerly tanned skin had lost its healthy colour from lack of sun, just like the rest of the population. With the post-apocalyptic climate to take into consideration, she had abandoned her hotpants and replaced them with faded jeans. She wore a red and black flannel shirt beneath her old custom-made Hammerhead jacket. Curiously enough, her ever-present cap had changed owners and sat snugly on Prompto's blond head.

Noctis glanced at the nightstand. Previously absent from any items, it now held Little Luna's sylleblossom arrangement, his handheld radio, Prompto's alarm clock and Cindy's cap.

There were plenty of pictures of Cindy working on hallowed lamps. He even found a picture of Dave getting the cylinder of his flamethrower refilled. A dark-skinned boy wearing Hammerhead's cap appeared in several photos. Prompto had told him Cindy had taken Takka's son as her apprentice to ensure her knowledge would be passed on to the next generation.

The two blonds seemed happy, surrounded by gadgets, tools and machinery. Prompto had told him how he had repurposed his Drillbreaker to a drill that could efficiently harvest elemental energy from deposits. Apparently that had been the ice-breaker and earned him Cindy's undivided attention. Noctis was happy for his friend. It had taken the shy blond a decade to get to Cid's good graces and muster the courage to approach Cindy without relying on the former king's support.

As he absently browsed through the photos, he came across several pictures of himself making strange poses in the dorm. He was laughing and holding his skull-printed shirt in one hand and holding air with the other. It seemed like he was swaying from side to side. On closer inspection he noticed the sylleblossom arrangement was missing from the background. The pictures were taken when he had been dancing with Little Luna.

He turned the camera around in his hands and snapped a photo of the nightstand. Surely enough he could see only the radio, alarm clock and cap on top of it. Did it mean only he and Prompto could see the flowers?

Well, if nothing else, it meant he didn't have to explain their existence to Iris. He almost wished he had to, if only to prove he wasn't going crazy. He still hadn't come up with a sound theory as to why only he and Prompto could see Little Luna. Prompto had suggested it might've been because she was responsible for bringing the two friends together, but it didn't really make any sense in Noctis' mind. Personally he suspected the Starscourge had something to do with it. Besides him and Prompto, only the daemons seemed to be able to sense her. He wasn't sure about Prompto, but it felt safe to assume the blond had been in some kind of contact with the plague when he had been nothing but a babe in Verstael's laboratory. Noctis himself had been infected by it when the marilith had attacked him and his entourage. But it was all speculation.

Scratching on the door alerted him to Umbra's return from his rounds. The hunter opened the door to let the dog in and removed the notebook and its casing from his back. Umbra jumped on the bed to his usual spot and settled down for the night. Not able to help himself, Noctis checked the notebook. Still nothing. With a heavy sigh, he put the camera and notebook down on the nightstand and switched off the lights.

Prompto had already fallen asleep. It was a long drive from Hammerhead to Cleigne. He wondered how much longer he would share his dorm with Prompto before Cindy's siren song had him packing his things for good.

---

Noctis blearily opened his eyes and squinted at the green digits hovering over the nightstand. 4 am.

He lay still and listened. All he could hear was the steady hum of the radiator and Prompto's soft, barely audible snoring. Umbra slept soundlessly at his feet, his warm fur comforting against his toes. What had woken him up so early? He felt his neck for dampness, but found no evidence suggesting he had suffered from another night terror. Just as Noctis was about to be lulled back to sleep by the familiar nightly sounds, he felt the mattress of his bed dip under additional weight.

Had someone sneaked in?

Quietly sitting up as not to alarm the intruder, he waited for his eyes to get adjusted to the dim light of the alarm clock. His heart skipped a beat when he recognised the familiar thin legs and newly mended and washed summer dress. She sat at the edge of the bed, her back facing him as she ran her bony fingers through the sleeping dog's fur. She was clutching something in her other hand.

Luna.

Startled, she turned around, her body tense. She had clearly expected her visit to go unnoticed. It was only then that he realised he had said her name out loud.

Before he realised what he was doing, he had leant forward and pulled the girl to sit in his lap, arms wrapped around her small frame in a tight embrace. He buried his nose in her blond locks and inhaled deeply – she faintly smelled of his soap and Iris' shampoo and nothing else. She had no odour of her own, just what was artificially given to her.

While it secretly made him delighted that she smelled of his soap and made him feel like he owned her, at the same time smelling Iris' shampoo only reminded him of what he had done the previous night. How quick had he been to replace Luna after thinking he had lost her for good. He had been so eager to distract himself from his grief by any means possible. Guilt throbbed painfully in his chest.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- I didn't want to-", his voice was raspy from lack of use.

She interrupted him by playfully pinching his bicep and pulled back enough for him to see the understanding in her pale gaze, her lips curving in a wan smile. Reaper, he had missed that smile. As she reached up to wipe away his tears, her glassy eyes caught the faint green light of the alarm clock and reflected it like a coeurl's. She dropped her hands to his and held his fingers, squeezing them reassuringly.

There was nothing to forgive.

She let go of his hands and moved out of his lap before pushing him to lie back. Frowning, he grudgingly complied. She stroked the side of his face as a final parting before making to stand up.

He wasn't about to let her disappear on him again.

He snatched her wrist and forcefully pulled her to lie on top of him. Her sharp hip bone dug into his abdomen painfully, but he managed to help her settle to a more comfortable position with his free hand. Her bangs hung like a curtain over her eyes, hiding half of her immature features in shadows.

He tugged the locks framing her face behind her ear and dropped his hand to the chilly cardboard-like skin of her face. His hand found the familiar seam of her layered face, but made no move to try and uncover its secrets. Instead, he let his fingers trail down to cup her chin. Her face was a blank mask as he pulled her head down to his and captured her lips in a chaste kiss. There was no warm breath against his face, no frantically thudding heartbeat within her breast. The realisation cut his insides like a knife. She wasn't alive – she was only as real as he made her out to be.

In the back of his mind he knew what he was doing was wrong on so many levels, but at this moment he couldn't find the voice of reason within himself and let his instincts and morbid fascination take over. He stroked his thumb across her chapped lips and let it trail down to her pale neck. He watched her face for any reaction as he carefully pressed the bruised skin, but received none. Her vacant stare only confirmed what he had suspected ever since she first denied feeling any pain – she was physically completely numb, and perhaps even emotionally to some extent. He had seen brief flickers of emotions here and there, but most of the time she reminded him of a marionette without a guiding hand or a broken mirror that reflected his emotions back at him in distortion.

Feeling slightly guilty for intentionally trying to cause her pain, he lightly brushed his lips over the bruises. Without his hand to support her head, she let it drop to rest in the crook of his neck, her unmoving lips pressed against his sensitive flesh in a feather-light touch. She was completely still as she lay draped across his chest, and like an unfeeling doll, she let him have his way with her. Greedily he ran his hand across the bare skin of her upper back and traced the sharp shoulder blades, while simultaneously combing her blond tresses with the other hand. He made it a game to himself to count the tiny scars decorating her uncovered skin.

His limbs gradually grew heavy. He was emotionally drained and overall beyond exhausted after everything he had gone through for the past week. Sleep weighed his eyelids down, but he refused to let himself rest. He didn't want to lose her, not when he just got her back. His hold on the limp girl tightened possessively.

Stirring, Little Luna brought her small hand to caress his bearded chin. Thrilled by her unexpected movement, his arms immediately loosened their hold and allowed her to sit up. Cool fingertips gently closed his droopy eyelids. Noctis mumbled a half-hearted protest, but quieted down when strands of her hair tickled his face and chilled lips graced his forehead in a ghostly caress. He fell asleep to the scent of sylleblossoms after summer rain.

The next morning he found something small and light blue sitting next to his pillow. On closer inspection he realised it was the very same Carbuncle figurine his father had given to him as a child to watch over him. The paintwork was peeling off the wooden surface and the colours were washed after a decade of rolling in rubble and dust. He wondered how she had known where to find it. Maybe that was why he hadn't seen her all this time? He couldn't imagine it being easy to find even if she could bend some rules of nature to her advantage.

He placed it next to the wooden vase. The sylleblossoms were still in full bloom. He had checked the vase to make sure the flowers didn't run out of water, but the water level hadn't dipped in the slightest ever since receiving the thoughtful gift. It was as if the vase and its contents were suspended in animation.

His notebook was open. Had Prompto looked through it? Or had Luna…?

He quickly took it from the nightstand. Next to his message had appeared a sticker of a moogle wearing an arm cast. He recognised it from flyers he had seen back in his school days. It was the mascot of IPCHC – Insomnia's public children's healthcare centre. Beneath it read 'You need to take better care of yourself, so I won't have to!'

He let out a strangled laugh.

As he traced the words with his fingertips, he noticed a drop of ink smearing the page. Curious. For as long as he had known her, she had never left even the smallest of smudges. It was definitely Luna's handwriting, so it wasn't like Prompto had left him a fake message.

He brought the book close to his nose and smelled the paper. There was no mistaking the stale smell of daemon blood. Was Little Luna hurt? Had she bled over their notebook? Better yet, what was she? So far he had been content on letting her existence remain a mystery if only to enjoy a stolen moment or two before she was permanently taken from him. Ever the pessimist, he only deemed it a matter of time before she would disappear for good. He prayed to the Reaper that day would never come.

As he closed the notebook, he noticed his left arm was devoid of teeth marks. Had she healed him again? Due to her calling as an Oracle, Luna's body had been corrupted from within when she healed others from the plague. Was something similar happening again? Was Little Luna killing herself to keep him healed?

He silently vowed he wouldn't let her die again. Not even for his sake.

---

A/N: Hope this chapter made you feel as uncomfortable as it made me when wrote it. XD