[The man who stood in the forest looked perhaps a little less like Izunia than he once did; his hair was a bit longer, in even more of a disheveled mess and tied in a low ponytail. Dressed all in black and gray with an orange scarf looped around his neck, he wandered the forest vaguely--this was a little unusual for one of his dreams, but 'unusual' had been redefined so many times in the past year that he didn't question it.]
[The dream began to shape itself as a distant, indistinct sound; that of a crowd, the quiet white noise of a memory that was at once far-away and yet clear. Shouting, calling out something...]
[Kill the Accursed.]
[Ardyn's blood ran cold and he stopped by a tree, shaking hand resting on it as if seeking out some form of stability. The figure that came from the mist was...himself, dressed in something far more ornate and with black miasma coming off of him in waves like some malevolent aura. A thick black ichor marked the pallid gray skin of a walking corpse in some mockery of tears and a smile, expression twisted into some cold approximation of a smile.]
[The real thing, looking much more alive and human, staggered back with a clear expression of shock and even fear on his face.]
[what now is found]
[Ardyn hadn't 'lost' anyone, strictly speaking. He was with everyone who mattered to him, or would be once he woke up from this miserable nightmare. It was fine. It was fine, so why did he feel that weirdly cold sensation of anxiety twisting in his chest when he saw someone he couldn't reach?]
[A pen appeared in Ardyn's hand, and he threw it only to disappear after it in a streak of magenta light and reappear a few feet away, hitting the ground running and warping a couple more times as he gave chase--only for the figure to fall apart and vanish the second Ardyn reached out to grab his hand.]
[...but that was fine. This was fine. It was just a dream, so the feeling of having just been stabbed in the heart would surely wear off as soon as he woke up. Right?]
Ardyn Tenmyouji | FFXV | Airlocked CRAU
[The man who stood in the forest looked perhaps a little less like Izunia than he once did; his hair was a bit longer, in even more of a disheveled mess and tied in a low ponytail. Dressed all in black and gray with an orange scarf looped around his neck, he wandered the forest vaguely--this was a little unusual for one of his dreams, but 'unusual' had been redefined so many times in the past year that he didn't question it.]
[The dream began to shape itself as a distant, indistinct sound; that of a crowd, the quiet white noise of a memory that was at once far-away and yet clear. Shouting, calling out something...]
[Kill the Accursed.]
[Ardyn's blood ran cold and he stopped by a tree, shaking hand resting on it as if seeking out some form of stability. The figure that came from the mist was...himself, dressed in something far more ornate and with black miasma coming off of him in waves like some malevolent aura. A thick black ichor marked the pallid gray skin of a walking corpse in some mockery of tears and a smile, expression twisted into some cold approximation of a smile.]
[The real thing, looking much more alive and human, staggered back with a clear expression of shock and even fear on his face.]
[what now is found]
[Ardyn hadn't 'lost' anyone, strictly speaking. He was with everyone who mattered to him, or would be once he woke up from this miserable nightmare. It was fine. It was fine, so why did he feel that weirdly cold sensation of anxiety twisting in his chest when he saw someone he couldn't reach?]
[A pen appeared in Ardyn's hand, and he threw it only to disappear after it in a streak of magenta light and reappear a few feet away, hitting the ground running and warping a couple more times as he gave chase--only for the figure to fall apart and vanish the second Ardyn reached out to grab his hand.]
[...but that was fine. This was fine. It was just a dream, so the feeling of having just been stabbed in the heart would surely wear off as soon as he woke up. Right?]