The Apartment above the Photo Hut; Saturday Evening [12/17].

It was one of those things where, if you squinted at it hard enough, the logic of it may have started to fray along the edges, but, broadly speaking, it made sense. Prompto, unlike so many others these last few days, hadn't simply woken up in Fandom a different version of himself; he hadn't woken up in Fandom at all. So when things were set right again, he was set right back to where he had been: in his bed, seemingly safe.

( Or maybe it was the last moments experienced by his other self (Cut for potentially disturbing imagery) )

Ignis' sword...? It had been the sleek, long Genji blade, too, the one Gladio had earned in the Trial of Gilgamesh. And at one point, he'd ripped Ignis' shirt in the fight, revealing a splash of tattooed feathers and a sharp eagle's eye. And Ignis could see again, too. Remembering those details actually help him breath better now, deep and shallow and trying to calm himself down. It had to be a dream, then, right? His brain must have somehow merged Ignis with Gladio in the dream, and that was why...That just meant...

Hand now covering his eyes, breathing now coming easier, albeit still in shaky gasps and exhales, Prompto just waited for it all to pass, until another wave of nausea hit and put him right back over the toilet again.

[[ for liz, of course <3 ]]