I want to ride my chocobo all day!

Even with the help of Aranea and her airship, it had taken nearly a month for Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio to make it back to Lucis, although any distinction between nations now seemed....superfluous. The Empire had been left in shambles, all of its major players--Ravus, Verstael, Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt himself--were all presumed dead, succumbed to the daemonification that had been subjected to and killed at the hands of the Kingsglaive and their King. All that remained was Ardyn Izunia, the man who just picked himself right back up and carried on after having been shot multiple times through the heart as if it had been merely a mosquito bite. Who'd told them Noct was gone and wasn't likely to be back for a very long time, and who said he certainly hoped they weren't afraid of the dark.

So they'd taken down the Empire. They'd gotten the Crystal. But the Crystal was useless, and they'd lost Noct along the way, and the darkness had completely taken over.

At first, they hoped it was just Niflheim, but it became clear, watching from the safety of Aranea's airship, that it encompassed the entire world. Daemon hordes thriving and swarming all over the planet, tearing down powerlines, destroying energy sources, anything that would allow them even the slightest hint of light. The only exception, with its massive power plant and a population large enough to defend it, was Lestallum, which quickly became a hub for refugees, anyone able to survive long enough to make it there safe and able to add to the support. The Hunter networks were out in full force, scouring the darkness for survivors, for resources, batting back the daemons as best they could.

And there was, of course, the Hammerhead, equipped with generators and a mechanical whiz like Cindy, one outpost beyond Lestallum, and that was where they found themselves now, after a brief jaunt out to Galdin Quay, abandoned for a while now, but still, they were constantly going to be on the hunt for any survivors that may have been missed.

It was a little jarring, honestly, how quickly the Apocalypse could actually happen. Even with so many hints and possible futures to show him that this was going to be the way, Prompto still couldn't believe how much the world had changed in such a short amount of time. But one thing that didn't change was his promise to keep trying to get the communicators to work. And, just before everything really went down, back in the days of sunlight, back when his biggest concern seemed to be a scary looking cloud hovering over the mountains of Niflheim, he'd had a spark of an idea. And now that things had reached some sort of equilibrium on their return to Lucis and he had access to all the tools and tech that Hammerhead had to offer, he went about finally attempting to hook up a lightning flask to the communicator to see if that could give it enough charge to work.

Ignis had been very reluctant about the idea. Practical as ever, he pointed out that, without Noct to extract the energy and craft it with his elemancy, their magical resources were severely limited. And with daemons having taken over the world, they might need every ounce of it they had. But Prompto convinced him to spare at least one flask, just enough to try it, and maybe a second if it actually worked. "If anything," he appealed, "just something to let them know we're okay."

"Not exactly the word I'd use for it," Ignis noted dryly.

"You know what I mean," Prompto was almost too annoyed to roll his eyes. "Besides, I said I'd try, Igs. I have to at least try."

It took a bit of doing, but finally, Prompto thought he'd managed to hook up some sort of rig that would channel the energy from the magical flask into the communicator, and he looked at the little glass container of magic for a brief moment, took a deep breath, and finally switched it on.

He'd been so used to nothing happening that he almost didn't know what to make of the fact that the little light on the communicator started to glow, the lightning in the bottle crackling and sizzling as it poured itself into the device.

"Iggy!" he shouted, eyes going wide. "Ignis! I...I got it! I got it! It works!"

"It works?" Ignis was at his side in a second, and Prompto started to send out a 'do you read me' message, but then Ignis' hand was on his shoulder. "Wait. Shhh. Listen."

There was a voice already coming through the speaker, but it was faint and quiet and Prompto turned the volume up.

"That's Goose, isn't it?" he said.

"It is," Ignis confirmed, who listened a moment longer and seemed about to respond to it, but then he stopped, as the words seemed to repeat. "And it seems to be....some kind of recording...."

"Recording?" Prompto frowned at the communicator for a moment, before his frown shifted to a disturbing surge of energy from the flask. "Why would there be a recording?"

"I don't....know," Ignis admitted, his own frown deepening as he just settled in to listen even closer to the words, to extract some meaning out of them and their purpose and what exactly it all meant.


[[ for the man with the communicator! NFB on the chocobro side, but can definitely be FB on the Goose side bayybeeeee! ]]

Well, this was a fine mess that Prompto had gotten himself into now, wasn't it?

When he finally came to, he didn't know where he was. He didn't know how long it had been. All he did know was that he'd awoken in some shack, freezing his ass off, but there were warmer clothes that provided some small relief. He didn't know how he gotten there or what he was doing there, and the pain in his entire body reminded him of the last thing he did remember: Noctis all but pushing him off the train, while Ardyn stood behind him, beaming from ear to ear.

Outside the shack, there was nothing but an endless stretch of tundra and snow. Inside the shack, just those warm clothes, a few supplies, and that was it. It didn't exactly leave him with very many options. And even if he'd felt more confident about trying to contact Noctis or the others, his phone was dead, anyway. His choices were, apparently, to just stay here and freeze to death, or venture out into the unknown to try and find out whatever he could...

...and also probably freeze to death in the process.

( But at least he'd be trying…--CW for some suicidal ideations )

He tried. Gods, but he tried. But once again, one more, trying just wasn't going to cut it.

Prompto felt the sway start to take him, as a radio crackled at one of the MT's collars. He didn't hear what was said. All he really knew was an odd sense of surprise, really. He expected the darkness to just come slowly creeping in on him, but, instead, it was all just the bright, bright, searing bright white of the snowy tundra around him.


[[ just a little snippet to get us going with the beginning of Episode Prompto, To Be Continued full swing tomorrow with....so, so much spam. You've been warned. Prompto's episode make Gladio's and Ignis's look like babies ]]

It had been...a very long day. Prompto whose mun figured that plot breakages was pretty much inevitable at this point had decided to tell the others...everything. About the worlds of darkness, about the crystals, about Noctis' sacrifice, about...about the clones, about the monsters, about all the terrible possible futures and what they could potential mean for them all. About how he kind of didn't want to go back, about how much more he could take.

( All the more DRAMATIC PARTS cut for length, yo. )

"Hey," Gladio broke in, grin broadening, "you know, even if you didn't have all these great classes Iggy and I picked out for you to go back to, you'd still have to go back. No way we're dealing with Nina if you tried to stay here. We'd never hear the end of it!"

Groaning, rolling his eyes, Prompto slumped in his chair, considering the slew of text and pictures he'd gotten from her at the beginning of the week, during her party on Wednesay, and mostly expecting something else if not tonight then tomorrow, and for every other day until he actually did get back. And even if he did groan and roll his eyes for show in front of the boys, he couldn't really deny the little thrill of appreciation in there, too. He tilted his head, so he could look at Gladio warningly when he said, "I'd watch what you say about Nina outloud, dude. She probably has this place bugged to high heaven..."

Then he realized what he'd said.

Then he realized how it was probably true.

And the others were realizing it, too, he noticed, as they were all now giving him a mutual, expectant look.

"Right," he said, rolling out of the chair and hopping to his feet to go rig up a nice debug pulse through the apartment, "on it!"

[[ NFB for distance, of course, but post is open! ]]