[Prompto's easy to alarm on the best of days. This isn't one of them. The storybook that upset him's still open face-down on the road, pages smushed, and the elation of finding Noct again, of knowing he's safe, gives like smushed paper itself, crumpling against anxiety and dread.]

I--I don't know, we were there for a while, you know? In Altissia, I mean. And... what do you mean, how long ago was it "for me?" Noct, what's going on, you were there, too, we were finally all together again...

[If it's not amnesia, then the next video game trope must be... Prompto covers his face with both hands and takes a deep breath through them.]

Am I lost in time and space?!