"Wait, hold on," said Prompto, wincing, as his hand went to his face again, pressing his fingers against his eyes, against another barrage of things from his own dream, a sudden rush of thirty years, and then everything slowing down, coming into focus, Ardyn, leading him here, attacking Ignis, and again, a few days later. Ignis, who could see, who had the Genji blade, who had the Amicitia tattoo, and the time in between, Ardyn's musing, his plotting, his hand under his chin, just like when...

And now Prompto was scrambling back put of the bed. "Hold on," he said, "I have to call Iggy."

He left the room, too, with a determination and a frenzy and a panic, and a sinking certainty that this was going go be a conversation he would not want Liz to hear.