[ ignis considers his answer -- to be honest, ignis cannot find anything wrong with what they're doing. that they've become vigilantes means that the system they're in has failed them. no one wakes up and decides that they're going to kill people one day.

no, there's something that runs much deeper here. and worse, that all of these deeds are weighing heavily on him. the fact that albert looks so sick to his stomach, so vulnerable, makes ignis' heart ache. it means he feels guilt for it, it means this is tearing down that goodness inside of him, piece by piece.

ignis is quiet as he looks at him with a new light -- here is a man so attuned to his own morals and principles that he cannot forgive himself for doing what is necessary. ignis, who has witnessed even greater evil and greed, who is part of a kingdom betrayed, sees something different in what albert confesses. he sees the pain, too, the heartache and grief of losing someone in the future, and he frowns as he pulls him into his arms.

he doesn't let him escape, tugging him onto his lap so that he can look into his eyes. ]

What you did was necessary. It seems the system in your home has failed you, and you did what desperate, good men do: you took matters in your own hands because no one else would. Or could.

[ ignis' words are steel, filled with certainty of purpose. but it is also balanced with compassion and empathy, because he understands why it would be wrong, too. systems were created to work, not create vigilantes. he exhales a soft sigh now, understanding his pain, his grief. noctis will die, too, and ignis knows the pain he feels right to his core. ]

I'm so very sorry, my darling.