Noctis froze at the sound of her name, his steps faltering. Luna. She had to be safe, surely- she was waiting for him in Altissia, or at least on her way there. His father had arranged everything. So long as she hadn't also received a message to come to Insomnia, she'd be far, far away from all of this. Anyway, they would likely be locking down the city soon, and she would be far enough away that she wouldn't be able to return in time. He had to believe she was far away and safe, otherwise he couldn't keep moving. There was no time to search for her, and without Umbra, he had no way to send her a message. Right now, his father's life was in more immediate danger. He made a mental note to ask Prompto about Luna when they had time to breathe, though. If he knew anything, they could figure it out once the king was safe. It was difficult, and he sent an unheard apology towards Luna in his thoughts, and somehow he managed to push her from his mind. Just for a little while.
Considering the hell that was going on around them, it was a weirdly painless journey out of the Citadel; enough people had already fled the area that the place was mostly deserted, and the bulk of the fighting was occurring either outside or around the upper floors, where guards were trying to protect the Crystal (and by the sound of it, failing miserably). They snuck through the basement tunnels, Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis taking out whatever roaming troopers wandered the halls, and commandeered a sturdy truck from the Crownsguard garage. There was a brief argument over who would sit where; Ignis was the best driver so his spot was a given, but Gladio was apparently determined to sit in the back and redeem himself for having not guarded Noctis properly on the way out. Noctis countered that maybe the one with the actual shield should be guarding the most important person in the entire city, and the one who can't defend himself right now. Plus, once again, he was the one with the actual attack range and was better suited for being out in the open, where he could warp in and out of the truck to take care of obstacles on the fly. He could technically warp from the window, but he couldn't get back to the seat as easily. He'd also prefer not to risk stabbing his dad by trying to fling his sword through the window of a moving vehicle.
So that was how the arrangement ended up being Ignis and Gladio flanking an unconscious Regis, with Noctis and Prompto in the cargo bed, watching their backs as they sped along the highway leading out of the city, hoping to pass through the gates before the Niflheim army took over enough to close off access in and out of the city.
Once they seemed far enough away from the Citadel that it felt safe to risk trying, Noctis pulled out his smartphone and dialed Cor. Unsurprisingly, no one picked up; either the man was dead (unlikely, considering he's the Immortal) or very, very busy dealing with the chaos inside the city, so instead Noctis left a voicemail. "Cor, come to Hammerhead when you get this. Your king's waiting for you. ...Stay safe." Were anyone to intercept the message, they might have assumed Noctis meant himself; an easy conclusion to reach with the king missing in action. He and Cor knew better, so he would understand the truth: Regis was and always will be his king, dead or not. Let all others believe otherwise. Noctis didn't mind becoming a target, so long as his father stayed safe.
He put away his phone and went back to guarding their position, glancing briefly over at Prompto to check on him. He'd been weirdly cooperative this whole time, obviously nervous, but with good cause to be so. He was outnumbered, a traitor to his country, stuck in the middle of a warzone. They were all nervous. But there'd be nothing to stop him from turning his gun on the royals on board, rolling off the truck and making an escape, or hell, even both one after the other. Instead he'd stayed, despite having no guarantees that they'd let him live once they're out of the city. It was reason enough to once again give Noctis pause, wondering about his intentions. Did he even have a plan?
He was shaken from his thoughts when a sudden tremble passed through the air, a cracking sound sourced from the top of the Citadel, and he leaned forward to watch in horror as one of the Imperial dropships lifted off the central zone between the towers, carrying with it a large black box. He felt more than recognized what it was, even at the distance they'd traveled, and his breath picked up at the sight. "The Crystal," he managed, his grip tightening on the edge of the truck. "They've got it."
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Considering the hell that was going on around them, it was a weirdly painless journey out of the Citadel; enough people had already fled the area that the place was mostly deserted, and the bulk of the fighting was occurring either outside or around the upper floors, where guards were trying to protect the Crystal (and by the sound of it, failing miserably). They snuck through the basement tunnels, Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis taking out whatever roaming troopers wandered the halls, and commandeered a sturdy truck from the Crownsguard garage. There was a brief argument over who would sit where; Ignis was the best driver so his spot was a given, but Gladio was apparently determined to sit in the back and redeem himself for having not guarded Noctis properly on the way out. Noctis countered that maybe the one with the actual shield should be guarding the most important person in the entire city, and the one who can't defend himself right now. Plus, once again, he was the one with the actual attack range and was better suited for being out in the open, where he could warp in and out of the truck to take care of obstacles on the fly. He could technically warp from the window, but he couldn't get back to the seat as easily. He'd also prefer not to risk stabbing his dad by trying to fling his sword through the window of a moving vehicle.
So that was how the arrangement ended up being Ignis and Gladio flanking an unconscious Regis, with Noctis and Prompto in the cargo bed, watching their backs as they sped along the highway leading out of the city, hoping to pass through the gates before the Niflheim army took over enough to close off access in and out of the city.
Once they seemed far enough away from the Citadel that it felt safe to risk trying, Noctis pulled out his smartphone and dialed Cor. Unsurprisingly, no one picked up; either the man was dead (unlikely, considering he's the Immortal) or very, very busy dealing with the chaos inside the city, so instead Noctis left a voicemail. "Cor, come to Hammerhead when you get this. Your king's waiting for you. ...Stay safe." Were anyone to intercept the message, they might have assumed Noctis meant himself; an easy conclusion to reach with the king missing in action. He and Cor knew better, so he would understand the truth: Regis was and always will be his king, dead or not. Let all others believe otherwise. Noctis didn't mind becoming a target, so long as his father stayed safe.
He put away his phone and went back to guarding their position, glancing briefly over at Prompto to check on him. He'd been weirdly cooperative this whole time, obviously nervous, but with good cause to be so. He was outnumbered, a traitor to his country, stuck in the middle of a warzone. They were all nervous. But there'd be nothing to stop him from turning his gun on the royals on board, rolling off the truck and making an escape, or hell, even both one after the other. Instead he'd stayed, despite having no guarantees that they'd let him live once they're out of the city. It was reason enough to once again give Noctis pause, wondering about his intentions. Did he even have a plan?
He was shaken from his thoughts when a sudden tremble passed through the air, a cracking sound sourced from the top of the Citadel, and he leaned forward to watch in horror as one of the Imperial dropships lifted off the central zone between the towers, carrying with it a large black box. He felt more than recognized what it was, even at the distance they'd traveled, and his breath picked up at the sight. "The Crystal," he managed, his grip tightening on the edge of the truck. "They've got it."