[His eyes flicker back up, linger on Ignis's face, and then scrunch, warmly and glossily, into a grateful smile. Ignis, Noct, Gladio--they're the best friends he's ever known. But more than that, they're the best. The best friends to ever have.]
The cat still lives pretty close to Noct's apartment with her kittens. I call one of them Ignip. He has markings like this.
[He makes circles with his index fingers and thumbs and holds them in front of his eyes for a pair of glasses, then lets them fall along with his smile.]
The Empire's been turning its citizens into daemons for years. They... harvest them, and use the stuff the daemons give off to power Magitek cores. And MTs...
[When Prompto looks down, he finds his hands already laced together. He curls them in more tightly, his own version of Ignis's contained calm. While his knuckles are white, his voice remains quietly steady.]
They were babies. Babies they injected with Starscourge before they developed an ego. They cloned millions of babies just to do that to them, that's why they never seem to run out.
[Head still bowed, he holds the joined heels of his hands against his stomach. It's easier, maybe, to say it this third time, but it's easier the way climbing the Rock of Ravatogh the third time is easier. He still feels queasy and light-headed thinking about it, like he's too high off the ground and the air's thinner.]
I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier. You've just been dealing with so much already, I couldn't find a good time to bring it up.
And somehow you were...spirited away, I presume, from the processing facility, and that's how you were destined to be an MT yet so clearly...not.
[Injecting babies with the Starscourge to create daemons, just to process those daemons into fuel for their soldiers. It's an atrocity for which Niflheim deserves to burn, even above and beyond what they did to Insomnia and its inhabitants.]
Just since we got separated. The facility Aranea and I destroyed--that's where I found out.
[If he'd known, he'd never have approached Noct. Not in elementary school, not in high school, not ever. There are some miracles even the Oracle can't command.]
I always knew something was wrong, but I never could've guessed how messed up the actual truth was. It was... pretty horrible in there. Like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
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The cat still lives pretty close to Noct's apartment with her kittens. I call one of them Ignip. He has markings like this.
[He makes circles with his index fingers and thumbs and holds them in front of his eyes for a pair of glasses, then lets them fall along with his smile.]
The Empire's been turning its citizens into daemons for years. They... harvest them, and use the stuff the daemons give off to power Magitek cores. And MTs...
[When Prompto looks down, he finds his hands already laced together. He curls them in more tightly, his own version of Ignis's contained calm. While his knuckles are white, his voice remains quietly steady.]
They were babies. Babies they injected with Starscourge before they developed an ego. They cloned millions of babies just to do that to them, that's why they never seem to run out.
[Head still bowed, he holds the joined heels of his hands against his stomach. It's easier, maybe, to say it this third time, but it's easier the way climbing the Rock of Ravatogh the third time is easier. He still feels queasy and light-headed thinking about it, like he's too high off the ground and the air's thinner.]
I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier. You've just been dealing with so much already, I couldn't find a good time to bring it up.
no subject
[Injecting babies with the Starscourge to create daemons, just to process those daemons into fuel for their soldiers. It's an atrocity for which Niflheim deserves to burn, even above and beyond what they did to Insomnia and its inhabitants.]
...How long have you known?
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Just since we got separated. The facility Aranea and I destroyed--that's where I found out.
[If he'd known, he'd never have approached Noct. Not in elementary school, not in high school, not ever. There are some miracles even the Oracle can't command.]
I always knew something was wrong, but I never could've guessed how messed up the actual truth was. It was... pretty horrible in there. Like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.