Prompto would find that, in this place, there was no floor. No up, no down. Only weightlessness.

He didn't hear his name being called, but certainly felt something solid behind him. The first solid thing since the Draconian had— No. That's not right, is it? There- there was somewhere else, right?

His head lifts slightly away from its resting place as a hand moves to rest atop of one of the other's. The feel of the wristbands telling him who it is without him even having to open his eyes. "Prom." I'm sorry. You should never have had to see that.