"Are you like a noble or something?" He mutters, not recognising the clothing brand but only nobles and super rich folk call clothes by some fancy name like that.

Prompto anxiously approaches the doorway and peers around. It's well lit, so that eases up his nerves a bit, but still. He's not used to things like magic doors. Gods and demons? Sure, bring it. Some how this is what sets him on edge.

He even jumps a bit when Eliot starts yelling, flailing as if trying to make him be quiet. But again, nothing happens, and he stares up at the magician wide-eyed for a moment before laughing awkwardly and... why not. He takes the other man's hand.

"Like I said. My hero."