Prompto isn't even thinking that far ahead. He can't even think beyond the next minute, beyond the next breath, never mind months or years. There's a faint shake of his head, ever so slightly, before he whispers, "I don't want to." But slowly, almost utterly numb, he turns his face towards Ignis' neck and just leaves himself there where it's warm, the pulse of life, as his tears trickle down.

Noctis' last wish. Even though he saw Noctis aged, the handsome beard, so much like his father, his mind still gives him images of Noct at twenty, that lazy smirk. Some things will never change, not when he's had ten years of those memories to hold onto when Noctis had been nothing more than twenty in all of them. "I want to wake up."

It's the plea of a child because right now, he feels like a scared child waking up from a nightmare. But this nightmare won't end.