As if he will ever, ever be able to forget the sight he's already seen. It feels burned into his mind's eye, the epitome of their failure to truly protect him in the end laid out at his feet. None of this is right. Not Noctis looking like his father in this outfit, not him being here on this cold marble floor, not him being dead.

"...Iggy, take Prom out. ...Gonna take Noct down to the tomb." Somewhere where, for now, they could leave his body safely where the magics of the place would keep the body from rotting away.

Gladio's slow words brought out a keen of sound from Prompto and a matching flinch only Ignis would be able to feel.