An infiltration mission, then... and Prompto was meant to have been brought to the city and made a Lucian, or at least been accepted as a protected immigrant. And he had also lost someone to daemons as a child. Noctis felt a twinge of sympathy, thinking of his own experience with that. It would be an easy assumption to make with no evidence to the contrary. Daemons rarely left behind survivors, especially not helpless children. His dad must have been an officer invited to the treaty signing, then. The story was starting to come together, though there were still some pieces missing. They'd get there.

Noctis considers the explanation for a moment, added it to everything that had occurred over the course of the day, and then quietly made a decision, stepping up and bumping shoulders with Prompto, his chin lifted, trying to look... well, kingly. He wasn't one (his father is thank the Six still very much alive and if Noct has anything to say about it, will stay that way) but he'd have to step up while his father was out of commission. Now was a good moment to start.

"Better late than never," he announced, looking Cor in the eye with a stubborn sort of expression that offered no room for argument. "He's with us now. The Empire can't have him back." The Niffs have stolen enough from them today; it was about time they stole something back. Or someone, at least. And more to come, once they have targets in mind. He'd more than proven himself all day, in Noct's eyes, and if Gladio or Ignis had any objections, they could suck it. Cor's confirmation of Prompto as someone worth saving was the last push he'd needed. (Hearing that Prompto had pulled a gun on the emperor of all people was just icing. He was a big fan of that one.)

Cor gave him a measuring look in response, lingering for a long moment, then glanced away, his eyes drawn towards the garage. "If Prompto has no objections, I have none either."