[The ruckus is noted, hard to miss. But Ardyn stands at an angle unnoticed, especially when Prompto’s attentions are so obviously aimed elsewhere — at his pursuer, whom he downs with well-placed shots and a followed rush of relief.

Ardyn’s grin widens — sharpens, as it often does — and he steps forward as his footsteps dully reveal his presence via a lazy tempo. His shadow is looming, as if attuned to his own theatrical ways and his facetious timbre.]

So they say. Though perhaps it’s advice you should take for yourself, Prompto. Your luck is bound to run out after a display like that; barely surviving by the skin of your teeth.

[And next to him stands Ardyn, a tall figure with a familiar gun (supplies partitioned out by Gaby) hanging loosely at his hip. Behind him, sequestered near one of the rooftop’s corners is the rest of it: bulletproof vest, and a mask made to obscure his identity.

Obviously helping other Morningstar agents was not on his list of high priorities.]