Chapter Three: Reconnaissance or Redirect?

"Stairs ahead. Watch your step."

"Thank you."

Gladio paused to spot Ignis while the latter almost expertly used his cane to gauge the height and width of the stairs, adjust accordingly, and step down into the freight car with only the slightest wobble in his step. It was pretty damn impressive, and he found himself extremely glad that Ignis couldn't see the grin on his face. The guy still had a ways to go, so now wasn't the time for compliments. If they could make it through Gralea like this, though, Gladio would shower him with them.

When he turned around, the smile slid off his face as he prepared to get back to business. The only problem was that their informant didn't appear to be holding up his end of the bargain: besides the crates and luggage, it was just them.

The place was spacious enough that they had plenty of room to move (or fight, he mused silently), but there were no windows to see what was going on outside and Gladio wasn't a fan of the limited number of sightlines. It would be fairly easy for someone to hide behind a stack of crates if they wanted to spy or attack from a place of relative safety and stealth. That wasn't even counting the ways he was already imagining that the luggage could be used against them in a pinch. Of course, they could just as easily toss the shit back, but Gladio had Ignis to worry about and knew that a bunch of junk on the floor would be a recipe for disaster. The last thing they needed was for him to trip up at a key moment.

Still, there was something to be said for getting here to case the place before their company arrived. It didn't settle Gladio's nerves, not one bit, but he could deal.

Ignis, on the other hand, radiated calm as he tapped his way over to a row of crates and sat down. You would have thought he was attending some fancy dinner back at the Citadel, his posture was so prim. It would have made Gladio laugh if it didn't remind him of all that they'd lost.

"You said our informant specified ten minutes, correct?" he inquired with a deceptively casual air of curiosity.

While Gladio began pacing the length of the carriage to inspect its various hidden corners, he confirmed, "That's what my informant told me, anyway. Whole thing still sounds pretty sketchy."

Ignis hummed noncommittally, not quite an agreement. "Would that there were some other way for us to gather intelligence."

"You said it."

They fell silent, Ignis assuming an air of such stillness that it made Gladio twitchy. He'd been used to Ignis's calm, collected exterior for years; they'd grown up in the same place preparing to do similar jobs, after all. Still, at times like these when Gladio was almost prowling around like a caged animal, it was damn near unnerving to turn and see that Ignis wasn't bothered in the slightest. He supposed that wasn't totally the case anymore, at least not as much as it would have been otherwise, what with the latter's disability and the adjustments it required. In fact, upon closer inspection, he noticed a certain stiffness in Ignis's shoulders that wouldn't have been there a few years ago; his head was tilted ever so slightly towards the door, obviously listening for footsteps or any other sign that they were about to be joined by someone else. Gladio was proud of that: it was good to see Ignis on high alert even if he still looked like he was waiting for afternoon tea to be served. He could forgive him the creepy composure.

A few repetitive sweeps of the carriage offered up no results with regards to spies or attackers, and while Gladio couldn't say his mind was set at ease, he did allow his muscles to relax a bit now that he'd ruled out any threats. Well, any present and unexpected threats. There was no telling when it came to whoever they were meeting. He was a mystery—and if there was one thing Gladio hated, it was a mystery.

Maybe that was why Ignis decided that now was a good time for a chat, inappropriate as it seemed.

"Well, while we're waiting," he mused, crossing one leg over the other in that way he had of indicating that he was settling in for the long haul, "there is something I would like to discuss that we never quite settled in Cartanica."

"Like what?"

"I think you already know."

Gladio grunted but didn't say anything else. Yeah, he had sort of figured that this conversation was going to have to happen at some point. He'd just been hoping that it wouldn't be so soon. After all, it wasn't like they had time to dwell on this when they were literally in the middle of a reconnaissance mission, and a tricky one at that. But Ignis was nothing if not resourceful, and if he could find a spare minute to get a word in and settle a matter that was still in the wind, he would.

At least Ignis skipped the heated admonishment and went straight for the mild rebuke, though. That was something, anyway. "You mustn't push so hard. Doing so will aggravate the situation more than remedy it."

He got that. He did. But… "If someone doesn't push him, he'll never move on," he argued without heat. Ignis tilted his head in what Gladio would assume was agreement, albeit grudging.

"While that may be the case, we must also remember that our duty to Noct is not only as his retainers."

"You sayin' we should go easy on 'im just because we're friends?"

"Not at all," Ignis denied, utterly unruffled. "However, it is worth noting that such blurring of the lines between those roles has made it more difficult to engage in the same relationship that a monarch would ordinarily have with his attendants. I'm sure it was much the same with King Regis and Master Clarus."

All right, Ignis had him there. Gladio could still remember times when his father would mumble to himself under his breath about this or that decision that he'd lobbied against only to lose in the end. There was never any malice behind it; his dad and King Regis were even closer than Gladio was to Noct, if he was being honest. Everything he did was with the king's best interests in mind and at heart, but being so close meant that when King Regis didn't necessarily agree and got all self-sacrificing, his dad didn't get the luxury of professional detachment.

The same thing was happening here. Back when they were kids, he could and did write Noct off pretty easily when they didn't see eye-to-eye. They hadn't forged the bond they had now, though; Gladio wasn't as willing to serve him, to die for him in those days. Over time, that had changed, and with it the way he interacted with Noct. All of a sudden, what his dad went through seemed to make a whole lot more sense.

Ignis granted him a moment with his memories before he continued, "I do not mean that you shouldn't provide Noct with the motivation to go on—he needs that much. But the constant animosity between you when he doesn't meet your expectations is counterproductive to our mission, among other things. If you cannot maintain a degree of levelheadedness and continue to let your anger get the better of you, you will push him away. A king needs his Shield, as both retainer and friend. Such distance is something we can ill afford."

Despite how petty he knew it was to feel this way, Gladio couldn't help his relief that Ignis wouldn't be able to comment on his sour expression. Well, chastised was probably a more appropriate word. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about how their arguments would impact his relationship with Noct—as a matter of fact, it was frequently on his mind. The way he saw it, though, there was a choice to be made there: either he settled for silence and let Noct self-destruct, or he took the road that made him less popular and at least ended up with a king prepared to face anything. Throughout the course of their journey, he'd toed the line. He'd been Noct's friend when he could while shifting fluidly into acting as his Shield when necessary. Even if it meant Noct hated him for it, he'd been honest and pushed him in the direction he thought Noct needed to be going in. There were just so many situations where it didn't feel like he could be both friend and Shield, particularly when Noct reverted to petulant, childish behavior that Gladio felt he should have abandoned the day Insomnia fell.

But that was Ignis's whole point, wasn't it? His opinion didn't matter. The kind of king Noct grew to be wasn't his decision.

In that moment, words he hadn't quite understood (but thought he did, of course) drifted back to him in his memories, and he barked out a laugh.

"Guess the king had a point," he muttered, more to himself than to Ignis.

The latter quirked an eyebrow in curiosity anyway. "What was that?"

Planting both hands on his hips and shifting his weight uncomfortably, Gladio asked, "You remember the day we left?"

"I find it rather difficult to forget," Ignis answered with a shrewd smirk. It almost made Gladio roll his eyes.

"What King Regis said to us at the end, about not guiding—"

"Merely remaining at his side," echoed Ignis, his smile turning sadder. "I remember."

"I…guess that was his way of warning us not to go too hard on 'im."

Nodding, Ignis soberly observed, "The king was always well aware of Noct's discomfort with the idea of taking the throne. I'm sure he knew better than any of us that it would take time."

What he didn't mention was that time was definitely a luxury King Regis would have known they didn't have, but the words hung in the air between them anyway. Even if Gladio didn't necessarily agree with the plan, even if he would rather have stayed in Insomnia to fight with the rest when the empire turned on them, he had to admire the love King Regis obviously had for Noct to choose saving him over an entire city. If he thought Noct needed time…

"Well, damn."

"Aptly articulated." Ignis paused a moment before sighing, and when he spoke again, it was with a level of certainty Gladio wished he could share. "I meant what I said in the mine, Gladio. Noct will be a good king. He already exhibits many excellent qualities, but we must allow him to go at his own pace. To do otherwise would be to place ourselves in the position of tyrants rather than attendants."

Gladio grunted in acknowledgement, folding his arms over his chest. It wasn't exactly Ignis's way of saying he'd been an ass, but it was pretty damn close. There was no arguing with that, though, so Gladio wasn't even going to try. Debating Ignis on matters of state was something he'd learned never to do long before they left Insomnia.

Besides, now that the emotional crap was over, there was a more pressing problem.

"I'm getting the feeling we've been stood up."

"I was beginning to suspect the same," agreed Ignis, maneuvering himself onto his feet. "You're sure he intended this as the location?"

"Yeah, the freight car. Not like he can get to any of the others without coming through here first."

Ignis didn't say anything in response, but the way his eyebrows furrowed was enough to indicate that he was feeling just as uneasy as Gladio. It was always possible the guy was just late, of course. After all, it wasn't like he owed them anything; he could have changed his mind and decided it wasn't worth meeting with complete strangers just to talk about the weather. He also hadn't gotten the full effect of Gladio at his most intimidating thanks to his proxy, so it wasn't like he would know who he was messing with.

"Well," mumbled Gladio with a grimace, "guess that lead was a dud."

Nodding, Ignis seemed no less on edge when he suggested, "It might be wise to return to Noct and Prompto. I fear we've been away too long already."

Ordinarily, Gladio wouldn't think anything of a statement like that. Ignis tended to worry when he didn't have eyes on the others, or ears in this case. Call it some kind of obsession, but it was obvious he felt most in control of a situation when he was present.

That was on a normal day, though. Today, there was something off about the way he held himself. Very off.

"You think something's up?" Gladio was already on his way to the door, skipping the steps and hopping right up to the top.

"I'd…rather not jump to conclusions, but it strikes me as odd that someone would send us to such a remote location and then fail to show."

Meaning this could all have been some kind of trap to get Noct by himself. Shit.

The moment Gladio tugged on the door handle, he knew it was a trap—no could be about it. While it had slid open without prompting before, the door didn't budge no matter how hard Gladio pulled now. The full force of his weight wasn't enough to wrench it open, and he cursed under his breath at the fact that it wasn't a door he could kick down.

"It's locked," he called back to Ignis, although he figured it was hardly necessary.

Following the sound of his voice, Ignis approached the steps so quickly that, if Gladio didn't know any better, he would have thought he could see where he was going. "Is there an emergency release or a manual override?"

Gladio wheeled around and scanned the freight car, but there was no sign of anything that was going to help them get this door open. Well, except for a crow bar.

"No, but hang on. I've got an idea."

"Hurry."

"Goin' as fast as I can here," Gladio shot back, his frustration getting the better of him as he practically tore the tool off its mount. There was no way of knowing whether it would be enough to get the door open until he tried, although he had his doubts. The thing was pretty flimsy, clearly meant for unpacking crates and not wedging open heavy metal doors. Still, it was worth a shot.

Ignis was rooted to the spot when he sprinted back towards the door, maintaining his distance so that Gladio could work. It turned out to be a good thing when, after barely applying any weight, the crow bar snapped like Prompto's nerves in an underground tomb. The end that Gladio wasn't clutching in his sweat-slick fists went flying and hit the wall with a deafening clang.

They weren't getting out that way, apparently. Although he had suspected as much, he still wasn't able to mask his irritation as he kicked the door and announced, "No luck."

"I gathered as much," was Ignis's distracted reply. Gladio turned to see him digging through his pockets with an impatient frown until he had his phone in hand. "When Prompto described the train to me, he said there were switches in the interchanges. They must control the doors."

"So, if we can get Noct or Prompto down here…" Gladio began, already seeing where this was going. Sure enough, Ignis nodded in affirmation.

"They can let us out."

It probably would have been easier if Gladio used his phone, but Ignis was already tapping the button on the side of his to enable the voice recognition. "Dial Noctis."

"Dialing Noctis," the cool, automated female voice confirmed just seconds before Gladio could hear ringing on the other end.

That had been a pretty neat trick. Leave it to Prompto to figure out that just because Ignis was blind didn't mean he wouldn't be able to use his phone anymore. The touch screen would definitely be an issue since there was no way for him to find the commands, but with a few keystrokes, Prompto had him back in business. It had been a heartwarming sight, not that Gladio would ever admit it, and he found himself smirking a little in spite of the circumstances.

That is, until they both noticed that the phone kept ringing…and ringing.

Given how hard Gladio lunged for the door, it really should have let him out on principle. Still, it decided to hold because it was a bitch and knew he was in a hurry.

Noct wasn't answering. Noct never failed to answer his phone, not since they left Insomnia. It had been touch and go at times when they were still at home and things were okay—or seemed it, anyway, as Gladio had long since given up any illusion that things had ever been fine. Back when Noct had still been in school, it would be a while before you got an answer from him even if you texted. (That was mostly because he knew that Ignis would have his ass if either of them caught him slacking off when he was supposed to be paying attention.) After that, there were occasions when he'd sleep through the call or forget to turn the ringer up after he got out of a meeting at the Citadel, but otherwise? Not so much. Gladio had made only three rules about Noct's phone, and he still remembered Ignis's snide little list where he'd posted it on Noct's fridge the first and only time the prince had broken one.

Rule one: If your father calls, you answer it.

Rule two: If Gladio calls, you answer it.

Rule three: If Ignis calls, you answer it.

There were no exceptions to those rules, not once Noct graduated from school and had little reason not to take the call. If one of the three of them were trying to get in touch with the prince and didn't just text, there was something up. It might not be an emergency, but it would be important nonetheless.

Out here in the middle of imperial territory? Yeah, this was one of those If Ignis Calls, You Better Goddamn Answer It moments.

But he didn't, and by the time the prince's voicemail picked up, Gladio was pretty sure his fingers were about to start bleeding from how hard he was trying to wedge them between the metal door and its frame. The damn thing refused to move half a centimeter, and Gladio was seriously contemplating just putting his fist through it to see if that would help. He doubted it, but maybe it would make him feel a little better.

Ever the rational one, Ignis didn't give up just yet and tersely ordered his phone to call Prompto instead. Maybe they'd just gotten unlucky enough for Noct's to have died or he hadn't heard it over the noise of the train. It sounded like a lie even in Gladio's head, though. Something had felt off about this ever since his informant had relayed that son of a bitch's message. He should have questioned it more when she told him the freight car would be their rendezvous point. Who the hell wanted to meet in the most remote, abandoned part of the train? Someone who didn't want anyone to hear them if they shouted for help, that's who. The thought had occurred to Gladio earlier, yet rather than telling Ignis it sounded like someone was up to no good, he'd led his friend right into a trap.

Over the weather.

They never should have come here. They never should have left Noct and Prompto alone, and when the latter's phone also went to voicemail, Gladio started slamming his fists against the door in a mad and unsuccessful attempt at beating the damn thing into submission. His charge was out there—his friend, his brother—and he was stuck in here. If this guy had gone to all this trouble to trap them in here, he had to know something, and now Noct was out there with whoever it was.

Who the hell played games like this just to separate them? Who would throw out intel that was sure to catch Ignis's attention all so that he could mess with their heads?

Oh, hell.

"That goddamn chancellor's behind this," Gladio growled at the door, driving both fists into it above his head and pausing to catch his breath. It wasn't working. "I guarantee it."

"The same thought had occurred to me," came Ignis's strangled reply.

Great. Just great. So they were stuck on a train headed straight into the heart of the empire with no way to escape and their actively hunted prince somewhere out in the open. Without his Shield. Gladio didn't want to say Noct was helpless because that was far from the truth, but it still felt like someone had shoved a dagger into his chest and twisted. All his misgivings, all the misplaced anger, had led him to this moment: it all fell away as the terror that his charge would never be king consumed him.

It was only Ignis's collected yet tense voice that kept Gladio from going absolutely insane. Even then, it was a pretty near miss.

"There has to be another way out."

"If you've got any other bright ideas, I'm listening." He didn't mean to growl, but his frayed nerves were close to snapping. Thankfully, Ignis knew him too well to hold it against him.

"Follow the freight cars," he suggested. Gladio turned to see him pointing in the opposite direction. "If you can reach the outside of the train, there should be a way to scale the carriage and get back into the interchange."

"That's if that ain't locked too."

"Would you rather wait for someone to find us here?"

Okay, he deserved that. It didn't take a genius to know that when Ignis snapped at you, you'd definitely gone too far.

Just as Gladio was about to slink off with his tail between his legs to do as Noct's advisor dictated, there was a loud bang against the side of the carriage that made it sway slightly.

That's not normal.

He'd barely taken a step towards the source of the sound, intent on figuring out what the hell was going on, when Ignis shouted, "Get down!" and tackled him. It was a good thing, too, because the wall of the carriage exploded inward not a second later, spraying the interior with shrapnel and debris.

Somehow, whether by the blessing of the Astrals (which he doubted) or sheer dumb luck (which would be a real change but slightly more likely), they had landed behind a stack of crates tall enough to shield them from the worst of the damage. When Gladio moved to sit up, he glanced around them to see that bits of metal were embedded in the wood rather than their faces.

"How the hell…?"

Ignis, slightly out of breath, straightened his glasses and fumbled for his phone where it had apparently gone flying when they landed. Gladio grabbed it for him as he explained, "I could hear the beeping of the timer."

"From…all the way out there?" asked Gladio incredulously. Ignis merely shrugged.

"That would appear to be the case."

"Damn, Iggy."

"Indeed," he agreed. If the slightly satisfied smirk on his face was anything to go by, he was awfully proud of having gotten to save Gladio's ass. Again. "However, perhaps now isn't the time for braggadocio?"

That much was true. Suddenly, it seemed like Ardyn Izunia was going to be the least of their worries if someone was trying to blow up the train on top of everything else. Given the force of what had already struck the freight car, Gladio was surprised they hadn't derailed. If the other carriages suffered anything like that, though, it was only a matter of time.

So, yanking Ignis upright with him, Gladio got to work.

"Looks like I'm not gonna have to make my way to the back of the train anymore," he mused, edging closer to the enormous hole where there had once been a wall separating them from the outside. Whatever was going on had to be pretty bad, because the train had come to a complete stop while they were taking cover.

Ignis followed a moment later, and Gladio threw out a hand to keep him back before he fell out. Just because they weren't moving didn't mean it wasn't still dangerous.

Nodding his thanks, Ignis inquired, "Did the blast do enough damage for you to fit through?"

"Oh yeah," Gladio snorted. "You could say that. Half the damn wall's missing."

"A…fortunate turn of events."

"That's one way of puttin' it."

At least now he wouldn't have to worry about making his way along the side of a speeding train without falling off. That would have sucked no matter how much he wanted to get out of there and find Noct. It was much easier to jump down onto the ground, warning Ignis to stay where he was until Gladio could get the door open, and sprint down the length of the freight car to the interchange. After that, it was too damn easy to hit the switch on the other side of that traitorous door so that Ignis could join him.

"Where to now, captain?" he asked, already reaching out a hand to summon his greatsword when he heard explosions further up the train. "We should probably go find those two before they land themselves in trouble."

There was a slight pause, then, "I disagree."

That was another moment where, despite the unfortunate circumstances, Gladio was so glad Ignis couldn't see his expression.

"You don't want to go find them when the train is literally blowing up," he deadpanned, much to Ignis's annoyance.

"I am merely trying to think ahead," he countered. "Noct and Prompto are skilled enough to hold their own. If we don't get the train moving again, however, it is very likely that it will be destroyed and the passengers killed. Noct might very well be taken into imperial custody, and we would be powerless to help him. We must restart the train."

Gladio didn't like it. In fact, he was pretty sure he hated it. But…well, Ignis had a point, as always. Finding Noct and Prompto wouldn't do them much good if they were just going to get captured by the Niffs immediately after. He'd seen the MTs heading towards the train further down the tracks; it couldn't be a coincidence that they had chosen to waylay this line when there were so many others they could interrupt. If they killed these people, these innocents, it would be on them.

So, Gladio set aside his fear. He set aside his indecision.

He thought of Noct. Would his prince—his king—want him to damn all these people to a sudden and undeserved death just to protect him?

Hell no, he wouldn't.

If they were anywhere else, Gladio would have gone running for Noct anyway. If they were in Lucis, he would have warned everyone on the train to run and gone to his king to get him the hell out of there. This wasn't Lucis, though, and a dead train meant death for all of them, even Noct.

So, with a nod and a terse, "Yeah, all right," Gladio summoned his greatsword and led the way forward. They needed to get this train running, and they needed to do it fast.