Well, I really have no other choice, now do I? My main source of information is rather, shall we say, contradictory. He claims to be just a simple vessel for the Starscourge; he claims to have nothing of worth left within him, and yet, when I draw conclusions based on that information, he then claims I view it all too simply.

[Ignis' body tenses slightly when he senses the motion from Ardyn's hand, but when no further action come, he presses on.]

You cannot be both simple and complex, so pick one and stop arguing in circles. It's beneath you. Even a child can do that. I expect more from a man with your experience.

[In the end, Ignis doesn't respond to Ardyn's mention of a dead king and a dead world. It's a taunt, a reference to a future that may be Ardyn's but is not Ignis'. Not yet. Not ever.

As certain as he is of this point, Ignis has to hold back a shudder when Ardyn steps closer. His head remains high as the threat washes over him in a deadly feather-light whisper usually reserved for his nightmares of Altissia, but his hands wrapped tightly around the handles of his daggers shake, and for far too long a moment he can feel the concrete digging into his face as pressure from above drives his breath from his chest. Panic claws at the back of his mind, straining on the leash his control holds over it, but he can't let it break free. The last time he did, Nyx had to ground him back down, and Nyx isn't here and Ardyn is, and...]

Veritas non infringetur.

[Ignis' answer comes slower than he would like as his mind struggles to form the right words through his panic. Still, he forces himself to do it correctly in an attempt to bring order back into his mind. It works. A little.]

You have more to lose than you know.