"I wonder if Margo would complain much if you tried taking her picture..."

Jean misses Prompto's spiky hair. He can't wait to touch it again. With a small sigh, he contents himself with touching the non-existent freckles on his friend's shoulders and neck, until he rises from the coffin and offers his hand to the big robot, an encouraging smile on his face.

"Then next time you meet your Arcanum, you can tell her you're doing an excellent job."