If anyone was impatient around here on the ship, it was Ignis. No glasses, hair every which way, completely disheveled with dirty clothes, mud splats on his face, neck and arms, the tall man was tearing through the infirmary and peering behind every cot, bed and blanket he comes across. He could feel panic slowly rise up inside of him as the seconds passed.

Where is he? Not Ignis, fuck that! Where is Noct!? And Ardyn?

The people he passes by are watching him in bewilderment as he stops between the rows and tries to scan the room.

He didn't need glasses to spot a mop of black, wild hair three rows down.

"Noct!"

Ignis almost trips on one cot but catches himself as he makes his way over to his prince.

"Noct! Are you alright!?"