AN: Aaaand here's the last chapter(s). It's a huge double-long one chapter since I didn't want to split this.

I want to thank you for reading Tool, it's warmed my heart to hear your thoughts about it. I hope the rest of it lives up to the expectations.

Beta read by Elillierose

WARNING: Please note that in this chapter I'm depicting self-harm. It's not really graphic, though, but might not be everyone's alley.

He couldn't believe how easy their escape from the prison levels had been. Or relatively so. From all around them they had heard the chaos: orders being shouted and then the deep footfalls of the soldiers rushing down an aisle here and around a corner there. But only a couple of times they had had to actually fend for themselves, and even those instances seemed accidental in retrospect. Like the soldiers just happened to be unlucky enough to cross paths with them, not like they had come for them per se. It was almost like their captors didn't care about them anymore. Then again, the Niffs currently had something quite a bit more pressing at their hands.

It seemed like the chaos was spreading outside the arena perimeters, and by the sound of it, the commotion was escalating into full-blown rioting. From afar they could hear occasional gunfire and crashing sounds, and the building itself was getting deserted as the mayhem moved onto the streets.

Not that they minded.

They had climbed to the ground level. The aisles were mostly paved with bolted doors, but every here and there a window or even guiding signs gave an idea of direction. The shield was in the lead, half sneaking, half jogging a few yards ahead of them, stopping every now and then to eavesdrop for any movement coming towards them. Ignis came second, his attention never wavering as he waited for the younger men to catch up; he had drawn his daggers from the aether again, was clenching them tightly as if to make sure they would stay with him this time. "I do not fancy this quiet," he muttered to his younger protégé as they made way as quietly yet quickly as possible.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Noctis raised an eyebrow.

"I'm talking about the guards' sudden lack of interest in us. I find it inconceivable that no alarm has been raised, even though I am sure they must have noticed our escape by now. It seems a tad too convenient. It is that, I have a bad feeling about this." Ignis' eyes flicked over to Prompto briefly, who was bringing up the rear. Perhaps the blond felt the gaze landing on him, because the sky blue met the cold emerald for a second before the blond gave a small cough and broke off, scratching the back of his neck.

Noctis had followed his eyes, and his brows furrowed. His mouth was a thin line as he turned his attention back to the adviser. "I told you, Iggy, Izunia literally just butchered their sovereign. It should give them a little something to focus on." He held a small pause. "Give him a break." He crossed his arms as he fixed the other with a stern look that told he would hear no more of it. Ignis couldn't quite hold back his frustration.

"I am just saying, Noct. We shouldn't let our guard down."

"Yeah, and I'm not listening. Prom's cool, so let's just focus on getting out of here," he shot Ignis down and motioned towards Gladio, who had sneaked further up ahead and was gesturing them to move it. The adviser gave him one of his looks, one that demanded the young man to heed his words, but as the prince persistently ignored it, he was forced to back down. He knew from experience he would get nowhere with him when Noct was like this.

"Very well. One brash breakout it is then." Prompto wasn't sure why, but the adviser sounded displeased at that. He didn't miss the inquisitive look Ignis fixed on him, though, before turning to follow Gladio, and he sighed, wondering how long was it going to take before they would trust him again. Or would they ever?

Noctis read the look on the gunslinger's face, and reached to grab his shoulder friendly. "You okay, Prom?"

"Y-yeah, it's nothing," the blond shrugged a little as he averted his eyes to the floor. "…Thanks."

The prince gave a small laughter, "For what?"

Prompto's smile was sheepish, and he shrugged again. "For, you know, believing in me, I guess. That I'm not…" He fell silent as his words failed him, and his breath hitched a little. It wasn't missed by the other.

"Hey? Prom, look at me." Noctis waited until he met the other's eyes, "We'll talk about that later, okay? For now, let's just get out of here." There was a glimmer in the blond's eyes as he nodded with a small smile.

"Yeah. As Gladio said it, man, the food here does suck," he forced out a little chuckle, and Noctis couldn't help returning to that. It was a flicker of the real Prompto. The Prompto he knew and admittedly had missed. He knew he couldn't entirely disregard the new information about his friend, but, the raven reassured himself, he was sure he would assimilate that somehow. This was still Prompto.

He jerked his head towards the others; Gladio had his arms crossed and was tapping a foot as he eyed them expectantly. "How 'bout you move it before Gladio has to come back to get you?" he winked to the blond, grinning at the wince the other gave.

"I don't think there'd be much left of me to retrieve if he did." The prince shook his head a little as he sprinted, Prompto hot on his heels.

"Took your time." There was scolding behind the surface of a statement in the adviser's tone. The gunner felt the heat rising over his face and turned to look away, but the raven paid little heed.

"Are we clear?" he asked as he peered around the next corner, then headed on.

"For now, yeah. Funny, but it'd put me more at ease if we'd actually have someone coming at us. With this calm," Gladio snorted, "there's definitely something rotting here."

"Like, a trap?" the gunslinger peeped a bit hesitantly. It was still making him uneasy to approach the shield.

"Or an ambush. Not that it'd be the first," Gladio rolled his eyes, sounding his spite. Much to the gunslinger's chagrin.

"Really, guys?!" There was frustration in his voice. "How many times do I have to say it? I had nothing to do with that!" The shield merely scoffed.

Ignis huffed irritably. "Perhaps not, Prompto, but I must say, if you had told us about your origin earlier, we could have taken that into account and taken the proper precautions. Things could have gone quite differently." The accusation was obvious: 'you are still at fault.' The tactician did his best not to overthink the look on the other's face. He wasn't sure how he felt about the blond enigma at the moment, but he thought it best not to dwell on it since it mattered none. Since Noct had approved of him coming along, despite everything that had happened, there wasn't really anything they could do about it. It wasn't their place to cross his opinion, regardless of what the adviser – or the shield, for that matter – might have wanted. There was a small voice in his head, mocking him and telling him he was being a hypocrite; what right did he have to demand Prompto to trust them with his secret, when they quite clearly didn't trust him? Given, the way it was brought up had been less than ideal. But if Prompto had anticipated their reaction, had feared telling them would spur something like this… Ignis couldn't really blame him. Truthfully, perhaps he would have done the same if their roles were reversed. There was a twinge inside; were they being unreasonable?

… He thought it best not to dwell on it. Since it mattered none.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Noctis had dropped down to casual strolling, one hand pulling through the dark mane as he walked closer to the sealed-tight blast door separating them from their next step of freedom. "A hundred Gil says it's locked." No-one took his offer up, and as he tried the door controls, the plasma screen flashed him a red light and a tetchy siren rang out. He hissed in irritation and tried again, with disappointing results. His fist clenched, looking like he was about to punch the damn panel, but held himself back.

"Apparently not this way," Ignis deadpanned, arms crossed and a less than pleased look on his face. He had let his daggers go. "No point in staying here. Let us find another way out." He made a move to turn back, expecting them to follow him.

"Can I… try something?" a voice spoke up from behind them. Prompto looked nervous and a little pale, like he was feeling ill. The others, especially the adviser, looked curiously surprised, but Noctis gave a frustrated shrug.

"Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out." He motioned towards the panels behind him and stepped away to give him some room. "You're better at this kind of stuff anyway." The blond flashed him a timid smile as he stepped to take a look at the controls. His expression tightened a little, and a silent gulp slid down his throat. His arm only shook a little as he brought the barcode up against the panel. "Prompto?"

Beep.

A wave of self-disgust mixed with shock and disbelief flushed over him as a green light and a check mark appeared on the screen, and the door started to slide open with a low hum. Half-lidded eyes were looking at nothing. "Here." The sound was so quiet it only barely left his lips.

It was met with a filled silence. Noctis' jaw hung a bit slack; Gladio's brow had risen in surprise; the adviser was pushing his glasses up, his lips cracked open a fraction. "Wow, Prom…! How'd you know how to do that?!" his friend's tone was half impressed, half mind-blown.

The blond shrugged again and shook his head a little, his eyes lingering on the treacherous panel before turning to the others. "I didn't. Not really." He held a hesitating pause as if it was difficult to continue, "I just had a hunch since… since it worked earlier. When they… scanned it." The ending came out as acidy.

"They what?!" Prompto had averted his eyes and held his left arm across his body, grabbing the right tightly. The way he carried himself, something about it made the blond look almost fragile. Like he was holding himself together. It was a sad sight, and Noctis made a move to get closer, but someone beat him to it.

Prompto jerked a little at the sudden hand on his shoulder; his gaze snapped, flying back to meet the other, and out of instinct drew in a breath. It wasn't whom he had expected. The look on Ignis' face was a puzzle. The emerald eyes scanned him over, scrutinizing and sharp as if the man was looking for any signs of dishonesty. His mind was working in overdrive, analyzing every detail, each little telltale gesture. But the ghost of a warm expression, an inkling of an up-turned lip graced his features as he regarded the younger man. "Good work." The tone was reserved, but Prompto could make out the underlying cunning in it. A revelation bestowed upon the adviser that had brought forward a shift in something. And there, behind it all, Prompto saw also something that made his heart leap. Behind the scrutiny, behind the skepticism was a sliver of sympathy. Sympathy and understanding.

He let out a relieved breath. "Yeah?" The adviser said no more, the slightest raise of his brow being his only reply as Gladio's irritated voice sounded,

"How 'bout you save it for later? We've got a citadel to bust out from." He was pointing his thumb over his shoulder, towards the grand veranda and the courtyard, looking like he was halfway going already. Ignis flashed the gunslinger a brief, cocky smirk as he turned to follow the shield, pretending he didn't see the spreading smile on the other.

Apparently Niflheim liked things large, Noct thought as they dashed alongside the tall wall separating the enormous courtyard of the arena from the world outside. Everything seemed vast and grandiose, yet dreary and uninviting at the same time. It was metal and gravel, and everything seemed technically advanced. Advanced but soulless. 'Like Niflheim itself,' he thought. He glanced at the blond running almost at his side. The look on his face was absent, like he was running on autopilot, his mind far away. "Prom?"

It seemed to startle him slightly, "Y-yeah?"

"You ok?"

"Yeah? Yeah, I'm good. Why?"

"I just… Or nah, forget it," he shook his head, grinning a little at the question on the blond's face before turning his attention back to the others. "Ignis. Any idea where we're going?"

"I'm afraid just 'race to an exit' will have to do for now. I must admit, I am not that familiar with the detailed map of Gralea." His tone was a bit guilty.

"If I'm not going totally cuckoos here, this's the practice grounds of the arena fighters," Gladio sounded a bit disgusted as he motioned towards the training racks and various weightlifting equipment along the courtyard. "For a nation this advanced, I can't believe they're still doing that stuff in here..."

"What stuff?" Noct's interest had piqued at the shield's reaction.

"Have you ever heard of gladiators, Noct?" Ignis' tone was tight with anger. "It is an old name for fighters who would battle each other to the death at an arena like this. In history, those kinds of battles were organized for public entertainment." He heard a sharp gasp of understanding, "In Insomnia, those kinds of death matches have been abolished over three centuries ago. They were deemed inhumane."

"Yeah…" the raven's tone faded. He regretted asking.

Gladio huffed irritably, "'Yeah' is right. And three guesses what would have become of us. Shows how much the Niffs respect human life." His teeth grit at the thought.

"We are not out of this yet!" Ignis cut in, refusing to get swept along to their emotions, "We cannot lose our focus!" Inwardly, the strategist tried to ignore the cold lump setting itself into his gut. How large were the perimeters? They hadn't seen an opening in the wall yet, although Ignis was sure they had ran along it for at least half a mile already.

He got his answer when they circled around the building, to meet the corner in the wall, then the solid stone that didn't hold a crack as it connected with the inner walls of the arena, blocking their way. "Drat!"

"Shit…" Gladio bit his teeth, pulling a hand through his hair.

"Now what?!" Noctis grumbled.

The shield shrugged and shook his head. He was eyeing the solid rock intensely as if his gaze was going to be enough to undo it. "I guess we're going back, try to find another way. There's no way we can climb that thing."

"That's gonna take ages!"

"Uh, guys?! We've got company!" Prompto's voice called out; he called his gun out as the others spun around.

The step of the Chancellor seemed carefree as he paced towards them, purposefully and smugly like he owned the place. The darkened blood stain on his chest bore evidence of what should have been fatal violence prior, but nothing else indicated that anything was out of the ordinary with Izunia. The satisfied smirk on his face never wavered, in fact it widened as he watched how the Crownsguards drew their weapons out. The amber went them through, the gaze resting on the gunslinger a little longer than the others.

"Oh my! And here I was certain it said to take the third left," he feigned a pout as he looked around like he saw the dead end for the first time. "Looks like I wasn't the only one."

Noctis felt his fists clench tighter, "What the hell do you want now?!"

"Uh, uh, uh! That's not really the way to talk to your savior. Truly, the manners you have," Ardyn mocked scolding. The shield scoffed,

"I believe he just asked you a question."

Ardyn wasn't phased. "And I believe I just answered. It looks like you've run into an obstacle?" He enjoyed the leaden silence for a moment. "I came to offer you my help."

"What makes you think we'd trust you?!" Noctis spat.

"Do you think you have a choice?" All humor was suddenly gone, the man's expression a perfect poker face. He was right, and he knew they knew it. "As it looks to me, you don't."

Prompto gulped, the presence of that man sending shivers down his spine. The last time hadn't gone down so well. "Noct? Are we seriously going to trust him?" he spoke lowly enough for only them to hear.

"Look who's talking," Gladio grunted, ignoring the half-pissed, half-hurt look thrown at his direction.

"I'm afraid the Chancellor is right, Noct," Ignis muttered, clearly hating to have to say that. "I must say I'm wary about this, but we could use all the aid we can get."

"Yeah…" Noctis didn't sound convinced. His instincts screamed red alert, that this was a bad idea, but what other choice did he have? They were stranded on foreign land, outnumbered and outdone in a flash should they try a forced breakout. Cornered in every sense of the word. No matter how he looked at it, it still stood they had no choice. Everything, every fiber in his body was against this, against what he knew he would end up accepting. But it wouldn't stop it from happening; Noctis knew when he had been bested. Whatever sick game Izunia was playing with them, he was holding the aces. And he was laying them out.

"So, what is it going to be, Your Highness? I can offer you a safe passage out of the city, and a vehicle. But of course," he threw them a meaningful smirk, "if you think you'd rather try your luck on foot… Well, who knows? The tool might even make it," he chuckled, fixing Prompto with a stomach-turning smirk. "As for the rest of you…"

"Alright," Noctis heard his own voice speaking; Izunia's smile was almost pleasant.

"It still reeks, why'd he help us out when he's only just brought us in?" Gladio grumbled under his breath, his shield swinging at his side on each step, the hawk-like eyes never leaving the lavish man. Izunia was leading them, walking briskly about ten yards ahead. He hadn't even glanced behind since he had told them to follow, trusting – knowing – they would.

Arrogant bastard.

"I dunno, but it's not because of charitability," the prince murmured.

"Hmph. Not with this guy," Gladio muttered back. "He'd throw us to the wolves the second he deems us useless. What's his game, though? What's in it for him?"

"Well, for starters, we are. As we are now, we really are like marionettes he's puppeteering," Ignis scoffed, correcting his glasses. "He tells us to jump and we're asking, 'How high?'"

"So, you're saying…"

"Yes. He has us at his will." The shield let out a sound of dissatisfaction. It was a cross of growl and a grunt, and his lips pulled back to reveal teeth.

"To put it bluntly." Ignis ignored the qualm thrown at him.

"That's just great…" the prince's eye roll was audible.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Prompto near-whined.

"Indeed. And the worrisome thing is, we really have no way of discerning his goal. Or if he's done toying with us, or only just getting started."

"Can't be helped," Noctis grumbled.

"Unfortunately, no, it can't. I find it obscene to say this, but we need him."

"He doesn't need us, though," Gladio cut in; the adviser looked thoughtful.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Izunia certainly doesn't strike as the type to help out of generosity."

"But what could he possibly gain by helping us get out?" Gladio muttered, index finger rubbing absentmindedly against the stubble that hadn't been shaven for four days. "Why'd he bring us here in the first place?"

"To make an impression, perhaps," Ignis' eyebrow rose. "Although it leaves open the question, on whom? However, we can safely assume that the guards' current lack of interest in us is most likely due to him."

"How so?" Prompto questioned, sounding rather demanding, and Ignis glanced at him, a neat eyebrow arching.

"Have you seen any since he's joined our company?"

"We didn't see that many before."

"That is true. But have you noticed how he's leading us along all the major corridors, instead of using the stealthier routes, and there still hasn't been any encounters?" Ignis left the obvious unvoiced, trusting the blond to figure it out himself.

"Oh… oooh." Realization dawned on the gunner; a humble look replaced the surprise soon after, and he chuckled humorlessly. "So, I guess the guy really has us by the balls." The adviser coughed, clearly unimpressed by the crude metaphor; a finger found its way to the glasses.

"Not the choice of words I would have used, but essentially true, I'm afraid." Ignis' tone was tense.

"So, I guess it's just playing the obedient for now, guys," Noct grumbled, not at all pleased at the idea. He had a bad feeling about this.

Izunia led them almost across the entire dimension of the arena, until they arrived to a wall-wide blast door the three Crownsguards recognized awfully well. "Don't tell me…" Gladio muttered to himself. Behind the doors opened up the landing dock where Izunia's private airship was waiting, its bridge lowered and two guards standing in attention to greet him. They exchanged a look at their commander's company, but seeing the look on the Chancellor's face, they stood down and were left to merely glare at the young men.

The leader for the time being wasted no time stomping in, but as he didn't hear footsteps behind him anymore, the Chancellor slowly turned around, his face that of mockery. "Getting the cold feet now, are we? I thought we had come to a mutual understanding."

Noctis stood still, eyeing the ship with overt skepticism. Every instinct screamed at him not to go through with this, that getting onto that airship meant trouble. But what other choice did he have? This was their only chance.

"Noct? Are we going to do this?" Ignis' tone wasn't demanding, wasn't pestering. It was simply requesting. Like a subordinate talking to his higher-up. He nodded a little.

"Yeah. 'Guess we have to." With an intake of air, Noctis stepped onto the drawbridge, the others following a couple steps behind him, and as the door of the airship begun to close behind them, he prayed that he had done the right thing.

The mauve-haired enigma took great delight in observing his young company. The prince didn't bother hiding his doubt; wariness hung around him like an eerie cloud, so thick he could stir it with a stick. The bodyguard wasn't quite as obvious in his discontent, but he had clearly placed himself between Noctis and the Chancellor, and the sharp eye was alert for anything even slightly suspicious. No surprise, really, and Izunia found himself amused by the brute man's predictability. And the tool, oh he was almost too much! Looking like a beaten dog, the gunner kept glancing around constantly, his arms crossed over his chest tightly. But the smart one, Ardyn raised an eyebrow, he was holding his gaze with a determined look that spoke of demand.

"Alright, Chancellor. I believe it is time for us to come to terms with each other," Ignis started, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. "Where are you taking us?"

The treacherously sweet smile on Izunia's lips spread into a small chuckle. "To wherever it best suits you. I believe you lot were rather on your way to honor a certain deity?" The raising intonation of the sentence made Ignis' lips tighten into a thin line.

"Our destinations are no business of yours."

The other laughed honestly. "Such vindictiveness… Come now, I'm not your enemy." He spread his arms invitingly.

"Yeah, right!" Gladio barked, looking furious; he took a couple threatening steps closer. "Are we supposed to believe that? The Empire attacked Insomnia! We are enemies, old man. You think we're dumb?!"

"Gladio…" Noctis' tone was warning, telling him to cool it.

Ardyn shook his head slightly. "A true tragedy. But do understand that in a conflict such as this, the sides are never just black and white. Rather different shades of grey, really. After all, you decided to bring the tool along," the smirk on his face took a sharp edge as the amber flickered over to Prompto, his eyes laughing. The blond visibly gulped but his expression was poisonous.

"I'm not one of you. Don't you dare make that comparison," Prompto stated sternly. It was brushed off with a small chuckle.

The adviser was determined to not let the discussion divert. "Why are you helping us?" He kept a keen eye for the man's reaction, but he had to come to be disappointed as nothing, not even a flicker changed on that perfect poker face, and he understood Izunia had been waiting for the question.

"I told you, I'm not your enemy. And if you mean that slight little mishap earlier, know that it was merely… a misunderstanding, nothing more." He held a small pause. "Truly. Who am I, or the Emperor of Niflheim for that matter, to stop the legends from coming true?" His smile had a cunning edge. The younger men didn't look pleased.

"Are we to understand you believe in the prophecy?" Ignis demanded. "What about the Empire?"

Izunia chuckled, his eyes flashing with cunning, but he didn't answer him. Instead, he motioned for one of the guards that had greeted them at the door. "I assure you, all will be answered in due time. But now, this man will escort you to your dorm."

"Dorm?!" Noctis' voice dripped skepticism. Izunia's smirk widened a fraction.

"It's a long flight. While you're on this ship, think of yourselves as guests of mine."

"Hmph. More like hostages," Gladio scoffed.

"Please. I guarantee you a safe passage: no harm is going to come to you while on board this ship." He motioned for them to go with the guard who spared them no glance as he passed them by to lead the way. "Move along now, you." As the others, one by one, reluctantly turned to follow the man, Ignis stayed behind. It was like he was frozen in place, not a muscle moving, his head held up proudly and a challenging look on his face as he fixed Izunia with a fierce look.

"You know we don't trust you," he started.

"Of course," Izunia replied, sounding amused.

"Why are you helping us? If you're not with the Empire, then what are you after?" Ignis gasped, his determination cracking for a moment as he thought he saw something. It must have been just his eyes playing tricks on him, the shadows moving to create a hollow illusion, or an inconvenient drop of moisture, but he could have sworn that for an instant, something shifted on their disagreeable host's face. Something unnatural. Something skeletal. Like… death. A reflex pulled his eyes closed, and as they opened, after what Ignis swore was the longest blink of his life, the look was gone. The plastered smirk was firmly in place on that enigmatic face. The amber twinkled with amusement.

"I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?" Ignis couldn't help the quiet gasp.

"What…?"

"Ignis! We're going!" came Noct's almost bored tone from further down the aisle.

The Chancellor's smile was deceptively warm. "Run along now, royal adviser. I believe your liege is calling." Ignis' teeth grit, lips pulling back a little as he waged an internal battle. He knew when he was onto something. But…

"Tch!" Huffing in irritation, the adviser shot one last inquisitive look at him before turning to follow the others, a deep disruption in his heart.

The guard lead them to a four-bed dorm room. It was only the essentials: two bunk beds, small clothing closets for four, and a tiny shared bathroom. No windows and cold, sterile artificial light. But it was the first piece they had had for days. As the guard left with no words of goodbye, Prompto wasted no time in flopping onto one of the lower beds, splaying himself over it. Noctis chuckled as he came to sit with him, worming his way to sit tangled into his legs until the blond had to scoot over to make room. The other bed creaked a little as Ignis took a seat on it, relaxing himself to lean his weight onto his elbows. Gladio remained standing, propped against the bed frame, arms crossed casually over his chest. He eyed the room with a mixed feeling of appreciation and doubt. As they had settled themselves, a silence came over them, one that quickly grew awkward and pressing as each one of them realized that this was false comfort and that something was very, very much left unresolved between them.

"So," Gladio broke the silence as he made his way to sit with Ignis," start talking," he grunted, nodding towards Prompto. The tone was gruff, spiteful, clearly displeased, but it had softened from the soul-slashing vehemence it had held earlier, and Prompto understood that right now Gladio saw him as lesser of the two evils, and silently he was grateful. At least the shield seemed willing to hear him out now. The others' faces were expectant as Prompto's fingers clenched the fabric of his pants and his eyes wandered downwards. He had anticipated this, waited the moment in fear and excitement, but it didn't make it any easier.

"I–I don't really know where to start. I've… never talked about this."

"Perhaps from the beginning?" Ignis pried him to spit it out. Heaven knew it was due time. "Where were you born?" Prompto snorted, shrugging.

"Here in Gralea, but that's how much my parents – the ones you know, I mean – that's all they ever told me." He held a hesitating pause; it was obviously difficult for him to talk about this.

"How'd ya get that?" Gladio nodded towards his wrist, his face unreadable.

"I don't know. I swear. I've always had it, as long as I can remember. I guess it was put there before I left the facility."

"What facility?" Noctis' tone was apprehensive. Prompto visibly gulped.

"For magitek testing," he forced out. "That's where they make them." There were gasps; Prompto couldn't discern whose. Just that a shocked silence settled as the implications of that sunk.

"What kind of testing?" Noctis had to force himself to ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to know but now that the matter was up, to the deep end with it.

"I don't know. All I know is that all the... all the subjects," that came out as a bite, "are given a brand like this. I guess it's for identification or something. Once a... a project is complete."

"So that's why you got the door open," Gladio thought out loud. Prompto nodded, looking sad.

"I guess it has no expiration date." He clearly hated to say that. The words tasted bad on his tongue.

"Did they do anything to you?" the raven asked, concern lacing his shock. He wasn't prepared to hear something like this. Not from Prompto. He felt bad thinking what kind of a baggage his friend had been carrying all this time.

"As far as I know, nothing much, I guess. In addition to this. "He motioned towards the barcode. "I was maybe six months old when my parents adopted me, so I guess I made it out in time."

"And who are they?" Gladio asked, still scoffing but the bite was gone. It was laced with what Prompto hoped to be sympathy.

"Lucians. Full-fledged and born there," Prompto hurried to state.

"That is true," Ignis butted in, pushing his glasses up. "I'm sorry, Prompto, but when you and His Highness started to get… more familiar with each other, I had to run a background check." The gunner's face flashed a look that said, 'I should've known', but the shield looked dumbstruck.

"And this didn't come up?!"

"To my greatest surprise, it didn't. According to the files, Mr. and Mrs. Argentum have a legitimately adopted son. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in that," he noted with self-scolding in his tone.

A pressing silence settled once again. Prompto took a deep breath. He had tried to imagine how this conversation would go, had tried to prepare for it, but it was still hard. He feared to think what would come after this. Would they ever accept him again? What would he do if they didn't?

"So, what are you?" the shield fixed him with a glare that told him he had exactly one chance to give him a satisfying answer; the blond gulped: he didn't have that answer.

"I… I don't know. I don't know anymore," he shook his head, sounding sad. "I just want to be me." The shield let out a held breath, bringing a hand to rub his temples. This wasn't anywhere close to the answer he wanted.

"… Why didn't you just tell us?" he grumbled, not happy with the answer but not really feeling the vindictiveness anymore, either.

"I, uh," Prompto's voice caught into his throat. "I guess I… I was afraid. That, you know, you would think differently of me then." 'Which you do' crossed his mind, and he had to bite his cheek not to mutter that aloud. It was a hurtful thought, and he didn't want to foul the air any more. "It's not exactly something you can advertise around in Insomnia." The childhood memories flashed in his mind. Hot summer days when he had been wearing a t-shirt like everyone else. How the neighborhood children had called him names. How he had only then come to understand that they didn't have a code. That his parents didn't have a code.

'It's because you're different, Prompto.'

The shield said nothing more, simply looked at him, and Prompto fought the feeling of self-consciousness as he did his best not to waver under that stare.

"… At any rate, it seems like the Empire is able to track us with that barcode of yours," Ignis interrupted, bringing everyone's attention to himself. He had risen up to sit properly, and had crossed his arms. His eyes were stern, but not judgmental.

"Meaning?" Noctis asked, his tone challenging as he shot a heated look at the adviser.

"Meaning, Noct, that as long as Prompto is with us, the Empire is practically breathing down our neck. To my greatest chagrin, I must say I cannot tell what Izunia is up to. We should be prepared for anything." Throughout this, the blond had seemed to shrink. Those were the exact words he had feared to hear.

"I'm not one of them, guys," he started, his plead audible. "I'm not an enemy. I just want you to know that." Another silence settled as everyone weighed his words. Some took more time than others, until Gladio finally fixed him with another stern look and said,

"I guess, if the Empire had wanted us cold, they wouldn't have sent a birdbrain like you." It was laced with sardonic humor, and Prompto felt like a stone fell off his chest; he drew in a relieved breath as the inkling of a grin tugged at his lips. He felt like crying the hot tears, but held them back. Nevertheless, his chest fluttered.

"Yeah?" he chuckled a little.

Gladio snorted. "Yeah. Count yourself clear for now, twerp. But if we're running into those Empire pals of yours again, I'm gonna wring your neck." Dark words, but spoken with audible humor, and Prompto couldn't help a relieved chuckle.

"Deal!" He offered his fist, and his heart was about to burst as the shield bumped it back.

Noctis grinned watching them, but Ignis' expression was thoughtful. He held a hand at his chin, thumb under it and the forefinger folded under his lip. "I'm afraid Gladio is right, though. As I said, we have no idea of the enemy's motives. I am certain that Izunia's not done with us."

"Yeah," Gladio grunted. "The guy's using us, alright. Although not really a fan of saying this, but if it gets us out of here, I'm game for now."

"Agreed. But whatever his reasons are, we cannot overlook them, not anymore. The last time almost cost us too much."

"Sorry," Prompto almost peeped. Ignis glanced at him before shaking his head,

"Don't apologize. If what you say is true and you truly didn't know, then you've been as much of a pawn on their chessboard as every one of us. It would certainly make sense if you left the Empire at such a young age as you claimed. A child that young couldn't remember. And so far, what you've told matches with the records on your background in Insomnia."

"I didn't. I swear." Noctis gave a shrug, indicating that that topic was settled,

"If you say you didn't, then you didn't." He leaned against the bedframe, crossing his hands behind the back of his head. "Welcome to the club, man."

"Yeah. It's become clear that you're not hiding any underlying evil genius," Gladio smirked.

"That's tru… Wait, hey!" The shield simply chuckled as he relaxed himself onto the mattress.

The blue gaze idly followed the structures of the upper bunk. Prompto lied awake, having given up on trying to sleep after almost two and a half hours of tossing and turning, trying to catch the much-needed eyeful that was still denied from him. His heart beat with such intense thumps he was sure the others could hear them. The structures shifted slightly as Noctis moved in the upper bed, and Prompto held his breath. As the sleepy mumble jumble of the prince sounded, he relaxed again.

The evening had gone better than he had hoped. Eventually they had fallen back into a close idea of normalcy, with the banter and the playful bicker. The veil of vehemence had been lifted from over them; it had been almost like before all this. Almost. Except that it wasn't. Nothing was like it used to be, and they weren't the same any more.

They were prisoners. Pawns in the game of someone they had no control over, but they had no choice but to pretend it didn't matter. They had been torn apart, and the image of normalcy they put up held the undertone of artificialness. Grateful as Prompto was of their understanding and their willingness to accept him as he was, he didn't want to cause any more dispute. But he could never completely undo what damage had been done. If they would forever hold it against him in some level, no matter how small, there was nothing more he could do about it. He unfolded his right hand from under his head where it had been propped in between his skull and the pillow and brought it in front of him; his gaze heated up into a glare. He hated what he saw! It was because of it, because of what it made him that all this had happened! Ignis' words replayed and replayed in his head:

'As long as Prompto is with us, the Empire is practically breathing down our neck.'

He hated hearing those words over and over, and more importantly, he hated the brutal truth in them. He was a wild card. This thing made him a threat. A threat to everything he held dear anymore. As long as he was with them, Team Noct wouldn't be safe. They would always have to be on their toes, constantly glancing behind their backs, waiting for the moment someone would come for them again. And it was because of him.

Prompto's teeth clenched, and a fit of rage had him clawing at that cursed mark again. It stung, his nail cut deep enough to draw little pinpricks of blood, and he stilled his hand. Panting silently, he glared at it. It was because of it that something crystallized more and more clearly each moment, the fog clearing in his hazy mind to reveal what he would have to do. He would have to leave. When Izunia would let them out at wherever the hell he was taking them, Prompto would have to leave. He refused to play this role anymore. He refused to be the puppet of that sick bastard any longer. Where he would go, he didn't know. He had no place in this world anymore, with Insomnia in ashes and his parents most likely with it. But he wouldn't put Noct at risk anymore because of what this goddamn mark made him!

'If only this thing didn't exist!' he thought. 'If only–!'

He gasped as an epiphany hit him. As he eyed the blood roses rising to his skin, it struck him like lightning. His eyes widened when he understood what that realization meant, but… if it meant that he could stay with them, still have a place without endangering them… then it wouldn't matter. He remembered his promise to the Six last night. 'He would give anything.' Given, he hadn't expected the anything be quite like this, but… a promise was a promise. His pain would be nothing. He would withstand any amount if only it meant that the others would be safe. He took in a few deep breaths to calm his suddenly racing heart a little. Adrenaline had erupted into his system, coursing through him like a wildfire, waking his body from its relaxed slumber under the threat posed upon it. He drew in deep breaths, savoring the stinging on his scratched arm. Then he got up, careful not to make a sound as he tiptoed into the bathroom.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he went to pull his belt off his pants. He fumbled a little as he wrapped it tightly around his right arm, his fingers working a bit sloppily in his haste. He had to work fast; he feared that his resolve would crumble if he didn't. When finally satisfied with the tightness, he reached over to slide his bandanna off and tugged it into his mouth, biting onto it. Then he tried to call to Ignis' weaponry.

The dagger came, a little to his surprise. He hadn't been sure it'd work. He clenched the golden blade in his shaking hand, feeling his palm sweating; he watched his own quivering reflection on it before shifting his gaze back to the code. He hated it. He was terrified of this, of what he was about to do for he thought he didn't have it in him and never would, but this, this thing he hated more than that.

His hand shook as the edge hovered over the skin. He braced himself for this, for the pain, for the nausea that was already building in his stomach. He hesitated as the blade inched closer, then drew back before inching closer again. But if he didn't do this, he would remain a threat. He didn't want to be a threat! He wasn't anyone's plaything!

The initial moans of pain were muffled as the dagger carved into his skin where the fresh blood roses bloomed over his barcode.

END OF PART 1

Oh, you didn't think I was done with them, did you?

The Tool series:

Heart of a Tool (part 1)

Heart of a Tool: End of Days (alternate ending)

Mind of a Tool (part 2)

Life of a Tool (part 3)

And a disclaimer: many people might recognize that scene of Prompto cutting himself in order to get rid of that code from my beta's story Strengths of Brotherhood. Yeah, I totally borrowed the idea from her. I just thought it'd fit here nicely, and she was ok with that, so I just went with it.