[If he knew that thought was going through his head, then he'd tell Ignis the same thing he told Prompto months ago on a motel roof. But, he's no mind reader. So he can't.

Ugh, he'd rather be translating ancient Lucian at this rate. It'd be faster.]

Some note on a map. [A beat.] No idea. And whoever wrote this has horrible handwriting. It's hard to make out.

[He frowns. Ignis shouldn't feel too useless. Noct can see it, yet still can barely make out the chicken scratch.]

Something about navigating a treacherous sector and not to bother the pilots. That there will be answers planetside.

[Fuck it. He gives up. The rest is in even tinier chicken scratch.]

Gonna need a magnifying glass to read the rest of this...