Prompto rests his arms on edge of the console of Ardyn Izunia's private airship, staring down at the crumbling wreckage of the Disc of Cauthess. The night sky is streaked with a dull orange as the fires of the Meteor reflect against low-lying clouds, and Prompto can still hear the crack and boom of collapsing stone.
He coughs, and feels grit roll down his throat.
"Quite a welcome," Ardyn says. No one speaks. Noct is bandaging his arm next to Ignis, and Gladio is watching Ardyn like a hawk, his hand outstretched as it always is before he summons his weapon. Only Prompto has bothered to come close.
"Did you do something to the Titan?" He asks, so low that his voice is drowned out by the roar of the ship's engines. Ardyn seems to get his meaning, however, and the older man shifts to Prompto's side, making Gladio nearly rise from his seat with a growl of warning. Prompto frantically flaps a hand at his friend, and winces. He feels like his skin is one massive bruise.
"I did nothing to your king's new ally, I assure you," Ardyn says. He ducks his head close to Prompto's, and smiles as though sharing a private joke. "Why? Did your meeting with the estimable Astral not go as planned?"
"He tried to kill me," Prompto hisses, and coughs again. At first, the Astral had been focused on Noct alone, but when Prompto and Ignis joined the fray, it was as though Titan had switched gears. Suddenly Prompto was being crushed under the dome of a giant palm, knocked off ledges, thrown to his knees under the mind-numbing tremor of the Astral's scream. Ignis had to run in with a phoenix down and a whole lot of prayer, and Prompto still feels like his bones are shaking with the echo of it all.
"Truly? I wonder why." Ardyn tugs at the cuffs of his sleeves and stares out at the dark fields of Duscae.
"How is it I feel like you know?" Prompto asks. Ardyn's smile doesn't so much as twitch.
Ardyn turns from him and strides into the center of the ship, where a row of powered-down MTs are suspended by wires from the roof. Prompto's been trying to avoid looking at them the entire time, but now Ardyn runs a hand over one of the MT's armored legs, and it twitches like a puppet severed from its strings.
"Remarkable thing, modern technology, is it not?" Ardyn says, in a voice that carries throughout the ship. "The Empire seeks to bring itself to new glory, so it uses an old system upon which to model itself. A new Solheim, the Emperor calls it." He shrugs. "Not quite the same, of course. It's a fragile mockery at best. Even these MTs are based on old records dredged up from ancient texts. Their predecessors... The true MTs, oh, they were a thing of beauty."
He turns to Prompto when he says this, and Prompto finds himself shrinking against the console.
"But that would be pure speculation," Ignis interrupts. "The destruction of Solheim was nearly complete--No one can say for certain what their magitech soldiers were like."
"Of course!" Ardyn beams at him as one would upon a star pupil. "But they say that the Magitech people of that time were almost as human as you or I. They were simply... enhanced. Sharper. Adaptable. Harder to kill. The efficiency of a machine with the soul of a human. It was bred into their genes, you see. If such a creation were still alive," he knocks on the MT's knee again, "they could command these weak copies by virtue of their blood alone. But then... as you say, my dear boy, it's all speculation."
"I guess being the chancellor of Niflheim gives you access to this kind of info," Gladio says darkly. Ardyn smirks.
"How suspicious you are!" He laughs at Gladio's scowl of disapproval, and walks off to the pilot's seat.
Prompto stares at the dangling MT soldiers for a long while, watching their feet sway, lifeless, with the movement of the ship.
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Before the World Was Made 3/? Re: Prompto has ties to Solheim
Date: 2017-03-31 07:13 pm (UTC)He coughs, and feels grit roll down his throat.
"Quite a welcome," Ardyn says. No one speaks. Noct is bandaging his arm next to Ignis, and Gladio is watching Ardyn like a hawk, his hand outstretched as it always is before he summons his weapon. Only Prompto has bothered to come close.
"Did you do something to the Titan?" He asks, so low that his voice is drowned out by the roar of the ship's engines. Ardyn seems to get his meaning, however, and the older man shifts to Prompto's side, making Gladio nearly rise from his seat with a growl of warning. Prompto frantically flaps a hand at his friend, and winces. He feels like his skin is one massive bruise.
"I did nothing to your king's new ally, I assure you," Ardyn says. He ducks his head close to Prompto's, and smiles as though sharing a private joke. "Why? Did your meeting with the estimable Astral not go as planned?"
"He tried to kill me," Prompto hisses, and coughs again. At first, the Astral had been focused on Noct alone, but when Prompto and Ignis joined the fray, it was as though Titan had switched gears. Suddenly Prompto was being crushed under the dome of a giant palm, knocked off ledges, thrown to his knees under the mind-numbing tremor of the Astral's scream. Ignis had to run in with a phoenix down and a whole lot of prayer, and Prompto still feels like his bones are shaking with the echo of it all.
"Truly? I wonder why." Ardyn tugs at the cuffs of his sleeves and stares out at the dark fields of Duscae.
"How is it I feel like you know?" Prompto asks. Ardyn's smile doesn't so much as twitch.
Ardyn turns from him and strides into the center of the ship, where a row of powered-down MTs are suspended by wires from the roof. Prompto's been trying to avoid looking at them the entire time, but now Ardyn runs a hand over one of the MT's armored legs, and it twitches like a puppet severed from its strings.
"Remarkable thing, modern technology, is it not?" Ardyn says, in a voice that carries throughout the ship. "The Empire seeks to bring itself to new glory, so it uses an old system upon which to model itself. A new Solheim, the Emperor calls it." He shrugs. "Not quite the same, of course. It's a fragile mockery at best. Even these MTs are based on old records dredged up from ancient texts. Their predecessors... The true MTs, oh, they were a thing of beauty."
He turns to Prompto when he says this, and Prompto finds himself shrinking against the console.
"But that would be pure speculation," Ignis interrupts. "The destruction of Solheim was nearly complete--No one can say for certain what their magitech soldiers were like."
"Of course!" Ardyn beams at him as one would upon a star pupil. "But they say that the Magitech people of that time were almost as human as you or I. They were simply... enhanced. Sharper. Adaptable. Harder to kill. The efficiency of a machine with the soul of a human. It was bred into their genes, you see. If such a creation were still alive," he knocks on the MT's knee again, "they could command these weak copies by virtue of their blood alone. But then... as you say, my dear boy, it's all speculation."
"I guess being the chancellor of Niflheim gives you access to this kind of info," Gladio says darkly. Ardyn smirks.
"How suspicious you are!" He laughs at Gladio's scowl of disapproval, and walks off to the pilot's seat.
Prompto stares at the dangling MT soldiers for a long while, watching their feet sway, lifeless, with the movement of the ship.