Chapter Text
Unit 05953234 knew from the moment he got his orders that he was going to die. He had plenty of time to make peace with his oncoming demise as him and the rest of his platoon were carted away to some godsforsaken corner of the globe to try and kill the Lucian king for the hundredth time. And they would be the hundredth failure, he had no doubts about that.
His superiors talked, after all. Said that they were just throwing away money at this point, that the king and his entourage were too powerful. Even the mechs they occasionally used proved too bulky to be of any use. The assassins had better luck (or so he’s heard, perhaps that’s just a lie to boost morale), but he is not an assassin. He is one of thousands of millions of riflemen who was bred to be simple fodder.
But, then again, he wasn’t quite so ordinary as that. In fact, he was unique, the only Magitek Trooper who was still what he used to be: human. There had been more of them before, three others that he knew about, but they had all died in the recent attack on Insomnia. 05953234 was alone, as far as he knew.
He didn’t know why he was...different ... from the rest. One of the scientists had mumbled something about different reactions to the injections, some subjects retaining their humanity, but he had never gotten a clear answer. He was starting to think that even they didn’t know why he was the way he was.
Just as he was about to drown in the hopelessness of the situation, he felt the pressure in the cabin drop and the rest of the units stood up. His heart hammered in his chest as he scrambled to obey, falling into formation in the back of the group. He didn’t know whether or not he was glad to be in the back. On the one hand, he got to live a few minutes more, but on the other hand, he would prolong his inevitable death for a few more minutes.
Instead of focusing on that, Unit 05953234 merely adjusted his grip on his gun and took a few centering breaths until he was as motionless as the troopers beside him. The dropship doors opened and a bracing wind whipped through the hangar. If he hadn’t been ready for it, he probably would have toppled over.
His fellow troopers jumped out of the bay doors, to their untimely demise waiting below, until it was finally his turn. He hesitated for a mere millisecond, but then quickly followed the other MTs, bracing for the impact. It jarred his legs and made his shins and knees burn, but he couldn’t let anyone know he was different. Thankfully a few of the scientists who knew what he actually was had taken pity and threw together a shabby force-distribution module into his armor, dispersing the brunt of his fall a bit more evenly over his body.
He hauled himself straight and immediately took in his surroundings. Of the fifteen troopers that were part of his platoon, five were already down, empty shells in the mid-afternoon sun.
Instead of wasting time on worrying about how long he was going to live, he brought up his gun, a Sagitta Rifle, and lined up a shot. His immediate thought was to take down the King. Well, not take down, he didn’t have any illusions about that . But perhaps he could injure, slow down , so that others could kill him. That way, if there were any other people like him out there, at least they wouldn’t have to face was he was facing now.
Despite his best efforts, the king kept flitting to and fro in flashes of blue, taking out his fellow troopers effortlessly, bantering with the big guy, who had six carcasses strewn around him, hacked into pieces with that giant sword of his.
05953234 stepped back as he felt someone come up from the side, and a pair of daggers stabbed where he had been seconds before.
Behind the impassive mask, his eyes widened and breath hitched. This man was tall as well, with a seemingly effortless grace that kept 05953234 on the defensive. But he was managing to stay alive. The tall man scored a few cuts on him, sure, but he was miraculously still alive. While everyone else was dead.
He gulped, finally realizing that it was now three on one. He was just postponing the inevitable.
But before he could lower his gun and kneel down to accept his death, there was a blue crystalline flash, and the king was suddenly right in front of him. Then the king whirled around and something slammed into 05953234’s mask, hard enough to make him cry out and stumble to the ground, hard enough to crack whatever material the mask was made out of, hard enough to hurt .
Something wet and warm dribbled from his nose and he barely had time to think, “Oh shit my nose is broken” before the king was down beside him and had ripped the mask from his helmet.
The helmet clattered to the ground, and as if that broke the spell, 05953234 suddenly became very aware that he was going to die . This kid, this king in front of him studying the mask in his hand was going to run him through with the sword clenched in his white-knuckled grip. A light clattering noise filled his ears and he realized that it was because he was shaking, his metal armor pieces chafing against one another.
He was so terrified. He thought he had made peace with his death but he was wrong. He didn’t want to die, he-
“Gods.” The king spat, getting to his feet and throwing the mask on the ground. “I can’t. Gods, I just can’t. Gladio, you do it.” He looked over at the big man with the big sword and then turned his back to 05953234.
05953234 looked at “Gladio”. He must have looked pathetic, curled up, blood dribbling from a probably broken nose, trembling like a loose piece of machinery.
“C’mon, Noct, I’m not gonna make this call.”
Were they… were they going to let him live? Hope bloomed almost painfully hard in his chest, and it felt weird. He wasn’t supposed to hope to live. He either fulfilled his mission and went back to base or died. That was how things worked. He didn’t know it was possible to fail his mission but live.
“Perhaps,” the tall man with the daggers stepped forward, adjusting a weird contraption over his eyes, “we can get information?” He asked pointedly, stealing a glance at 05953234.
Immediately, he felt himself tense up. If the enemy wanted information, he had no doubt they were going to have to force it out of him, and he didn’t want to know what that would entail.
Flashes of cold metal slabs, painful operations, a honeyed laugh, days in solitude, they all came crashing back to him in seconds, and he barely bit down a sob. Magitek soldiers don’t cry.
“Sounds good.” Gladio growled. His eyes bored holes into 05953234’s skull as he spoke, low and threatening, “But we can’t take it-him? Gah, whatever- to a hotel. Too dangerous.”
“There’s a haven fifteen minutes drive from here. We can rest there, and get what information we need.” The tall man said. He stooped down, more gently than the king, and his face isn’t screwed up in anger like the others. It’s kind of nice.
“Can you understand me?” He asked.
05953234 knew the punishment for tardy responses. They were etched into scars across his back, down his torso, all over his arms and legs. But he still couldn’t bring himself to nod his head. He was...he didn’t quite know what this feeling was. It was as if he was the armor from one of the disintegrated magitek troopers. Hollowed out, empty, terrified. Honestly, the feeling of emptiness almost scared him more than the three men staring him down.
Almost.
“Doesn’t look like it,” The king scoffed, “Guess we won’t get much info out of him.”
“Perhaps. But there are many ways to find out what we wish to know.”
05953234 didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like that at all.
The second 05953234 stepped into the car door, he realized that his entire worldview was entirely fucked. For one thing, this car is almost nothing like the cars back in Niflheim. While Niff cars are boxy and tank-like, this car was sleek, shiny, and kinda pretty. Plus, there was no storage compartment for him to sit in. He half-expected them to shove him in the trunk, since it was the closest thing they had, but instead, the tall man, whom the others called “Ignis” and “Iggy” ushered him to the front seat. “To keep an eye on him.” He told the others. Gladio snorted and shifted seats with Noctis.
The ride wasn’t even quiet, like he was used to. Sure, the engine was a soft purr in the background, but there was something else, a rhythmic series of noises coming from the front of the car. It almost made him smile.
Instead, he gripped his pants legs in tight fists, trying to calm his quivering. He could feel Gladio’s eyes on him, never leaving his back. He knew that if he even shifted the wrong way, the big man would leap into action and probably decapitate him.
So he locked his knees and elbows and ducked his head. He didn’t know what else to do. He was given no protocols for how to proceed in situations like this. In fact, he didn’t have very many protocols: Obey your commanding officer above all else, Fight until victory or death, Return to base after your mission.
He did obey his commanding officer. He got onto the dropship though he knew he was going to die. He followed the other troopers to the ground. He fought against the Lucian king and his friends.
But he couldn’t obey the second or third protocols. He wasn’t victorious. The Lucians had soundly defeated his entire platoon without breaking a sweat. So he had tried to fight until his death, but the three men didn’t kill him. And they weren’t allowing his to return to his base. In fact, they were very pointedly driving away from the closest base.
He didn’t know what to do if he wasn’t following his protocols. He didn’t have a protocol for that.
As it turns out, a “haven” is just a lump of rock that glows blue.
To be fair, that’s underselling it somewhat. Ghostly blue whisps of what 05953234 assumed was magic wafted from glowing blue runestones etched into the solid rock.
But despite how pretty it looked from a distance, being up close and personal with it made him feel a little sick. He stumbled up the path to the flat surface where they’d no doubt be resting, and Gladio grabbed his bicep in a meaty hand, tugging him along brusquely.
It wasn’t a gentle, guiding hand, either. It was rough and nearly dislocated his shoulder. He barely bit down a yelp as he was dragged along.
Finally, Gladio let him go and he fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings have just been cut. The movement jostled his aching nose, and this time he wasn’t able to swallow a small whimper.
He slapped a hand against his mouth, looking down at the ground as if it would swallow him up.
But he had no such luck, as Ignis squatted next to him. “Does that nose still hurt?” He asked, not un kindly.
05953234 just looked away. They didn’t seem to be punishing him for not speaking up, seemed to think he couldn’t even understand them. So he just let them believe that.
But it seemed like Ignis wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. A hand cupped under his chin and forced his gaze into Ignis’.
“Hold still, I’ll make it better.”
Ignis reached forward with the hand not keeping 05953234’s face still, hand dancing uncomfortably close to the broken nose. 05953234 tried to jerk away, but Ignis’ grip was strong, “Keep still, it will only hurt for a moment,” He said.
“Give it up, Specs. Looks like he just wants to be let alone, so leave him be.”
“Surely you’re not so cruel as to leave him without treatment, Noct?” Ignis’ voice was short and clipped, and he straightened to give the king a meaningful look that 05953234 can’t quite decipher.
“His people killed my father, Gladio’s father, your uncle ” The king yelled, pointing an accusing finger in his direction, “And you’re talking to me about cruelty? I’m not the person who used a cease-fire as a ruse to invade another kingdom!”
A long silence stretched out, broken by a sigh from Ignis, “We don’t know for sure he was a part of the attack on Insomnia,” He started, holding up a hand for silence when the king started to interrupt, “And even if he was, he certainly didn’t make the decision to invade. While I don’t wish to make friends with him, I refuse to be heartless.”
Ignis must have won the argument, because Noct turned on his heel and stalked to where Gladio was putting up the tent. Again, he caught 05953234’s face in one hand and reached towards his nose with the other.
Hope dared to bloom in 05953234’s chest. Was Ignis actually going to make him feel better? It didn’t make any sense, why an enemy would want to help him, but Ignis’ hands were gentle around his chin, and his face was soft. So he allowed Ignis to ghost his fingers gently along the cartilage.
“Gladio, hand me a potion if you will?”
“Are we really going to waste potions on him ?” Gladio asked, handing Ignis a glass bottle filled with a faintly glowing blue liquid.
“It’s a potion. They’re hardly the most expensive things we ever buy,” Ignis replied, “besides, it’s hard for a broken nose to heal properly even with medical attention. A potion should heal it nicely, albeit a little crooked.” Ignis unstoppered the cork with his teeth, then poured half of the contents across 05953234’s nose.
Almost immediately, he felt a wave of relief as the cartilage in his nose shifted back into shape. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but the pain had faded to a dull ache, and breathing through it wasn’t a chore.
Ignis pressed lightly against the side of 05953234’s nose, frowning at the light gasp and attempt to scramble away it elicited. But instead of punishing him for squirming, for accepting aid from an enemy, Ignis simply emptied the rest of the glowing bottle onto his nose. Something else shifted, and suddenly, the pain was gone, leaving little more than a lingering ache that would go away in a few hours.
They… they healed him? Why would they do that? Was it only so the pain of his torture would be magnified?
Ignis pressed again, seemingly satisfied with how his nose had healed, then stood to face the others. “Gladio, fetch the rope, will you? Now that our guest is tended to, I’ll feel better if he’s restrained.”
And once again, panic coursed through him. They were going to tie him up, tie him down, take a scalpel to his skin and cut it open to find out how he ticks, crush his bones and heal them and crush them again. He didn’t want to be hurt anymore. He just wanted to die. He was just supposed to die. Why wouldn’t they just kill him already?
A muffled sob escaped 05953234’s throat as Ignis knotted his hands behind his back.