Ardyn hardly had to make the threat of telling his friends the truth of Prompto’s origin. It hung over both of their heads like a sharpened sword on a thin wire, ready to drop. It shaped the tension in the air, those reins of leverage that Ardyn could pull to and fro according to his own whims. He only smiled, the expression frustratingly indolent on his features.

“I mean that we should see it through to the end. Complete the process of your conversion to a true MT; you were already created in a facility, but you quite thoroughly managed to avoid the daemonification process.”

He placed a hand on his chest, fingers splayed, in a gesture of mock pride.

“And who better than I, to pick up where you last left off? You’ll find that I’m quite equipped the wrench away the rest of your humanity; oh, but don’t tell the scientists that.”