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[photoshooter]

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[unfatalist]

...In a matter like this, Prompto, it's your intuition I'd trust, not mine.

[The repetition, the insistence get him to glance up, and it's apparent from the expression on his face that for once, he's not the one with the answers.]

Will it help? Do you think he'd allow us to be a part of it? Or would he insist on doing it alone, to try to protect us in some capacity?

[photoshooter]

[If Ignis doesn't have answers, the question he asks still sounds like it has one. Like it's rhetorical. They've all known him for years; the last time Prompto heard his voice before coming here, he'd run ahead just to protect them.]

...I think he'd try.

[If he doesn't acknowledge that, then he's being willfully blind, and he can't do that in front of Ignis, not anymore.]

But we swore an oath. And I think... I think... I think, really, it's what he wants, too. He doesn't want to do it all alone. And I think... I think he needs us.

[I'm going to make the world a better place.

You with me?]

And if he takes our help, that's what'll make him a real king. If he accepts what he needs, not... not just what he needs to do. Or else he's just running away. Like I did, after we were separated.

[He breathes in, then out.] That's what I think.

[unfatalist]

...He feels responsible. For Insomnia, for what awaits him in Altissia. For you. For me.

[He's quiet a minute, and then his voice goes lower; what's coming isn't something that he finds easy to say, but sometimes being a good advisor means saying the things that aren't easy, and that no one else wants to.]

The Marshal, however righteous his intentions, did a number on him in that respect, I think.

[It's not the sort of thing one unhears, after all. It doesn't just go away. Perhaps it never will.]

...I hate the thought of him having to go somewhere I can't follow, you know.

[photoshooter]

I know.

[It feels a lot like his own need, desperate and young. 'All I ask is that you remain ever at his side.'

Prompto lifts his hand, wavers, and then puts it on Ignis's arm.]

Don't let him. I won't, either. [He remembers something and says:] We're not his bodyguards. We're his brothers.