[They'll be fine. This isn't real and they're going to be fine. Sooner or later this too will come to an end, as everything before has, and all will return to the normal they had begun to carve out. But what if it was later rather than sooner? How much longer could those rational parts of their brains hold out? How much longer before they gave into the madness?

There's hands grasping his arm, wrapping around the fabric of the jacket he wears, working their way up from the place where Ignis' warmth radiates. Cold, unfeeling fingers pulling and tugging at him. Clawing, like they're desperate for something to hold onto.

Trusting Ignis to lead and guide him came as easily and naturally as breathing. And yet the moment he stepped from the wood of the bridge and onto the dirt path, the illusions faded.]

It stopped. [For now. It stopped for now.] You okay? You know Ardyn isn't really here, right? And if he does show up, we'll handle it. All of us.