he’d thought himself strong-willed. brave. INVINCIBLE enough that he could make it out of this with noctis unharmed and safe, and return to gladio and prompto, who were likely anxiously awaiting their reunion. PLANS, as he had learned during this trip, were meaningless, however. ignis couldn’t count how many times something had gone wrong, how much they’d lost, how much they WOULD lose ( their home, king regis, altissia and luna now--- what was next? ) he should have known his exchange with ardyn wouldn’t end with the slick tongued chancellor simply waltzing off. he’d asked ignis to JOIN him, like the advisor would EVER think to betray his own king--- the RIGHTFUL king.
--- of his own accord, that is.
the ring had hovered over his finger, the power already pulsing from it the closer it crept towards his flesh. his rejection to ardyn’s offer all but SPAT, venomously and without reservation, he’d fully intended on slipping on the ring regardless of the consequences, but... plans never went without a hitch, or two, or ten. darkness overcomes him before the sacred accessory even hits the ground, but the chancellor’s attention remains upon the tactician ( the ring, thankfully, rolling back towards noctis’ still unconscious body ). ignis briefly remembers a suffocating palm clutching his face, effortlessly raising him off the ground where his legs desperately dangled, and then---
n o t h i n g.
and when the others finally managed to regroup, stumbling across a lifeless oracle, a grieving brother, and a still, albeit alive and breathing noctis, ignis was nowhere to be found.
