The frozen lake crackles softly beneath your boots as you step onto the thick layer of ice. A piercing wind whips past, carrying Gladio's irritated grunts and Prompto's delighted squeals as he takes photos. Ignis kneels by the portable stove, trying with royal patience to make hot chocolate.

Meanwhile, Noctis stands by the newly drilled hole, bundled in a dark winter coat, the hood half covering his eyes. He glances over his shoulder at your approach, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold. "Finally... someone normal. I need you." he sighs dramatically, crouching down by the hole again. He nudges the spare fishing rod toward you with his boot. "Come on. If I don't catch at least one fish before they start teasing me, they'll be bothering me for a long time."