Chapter Text
“The mind is a dangerous place. A place where anything and nothing can coexist at once. A place that will drive even the most virtuous of people to madness. A place where a careless soul can find themselves wandering aimlessly, lost for all of eternity.”
Lotor’s words echoed in your mind as you stared at the sharp-edged face of Sincline. It was much more intimidating up close, especially with those eyes radiating specks of power, of quintessence, directly at the two of you. He stood by your side to also take in the magnificent creation in terrifying, yet awed, appreciation.
He tilted his head down just a bit, just enough that you noticed his solemn expression from the corner of your eye. “You must be careful. Do not trust what you see with your own two eyes. When I showed you my memories, it was my choice to do so. My choice to trust you, to share with you.”
Now, you turned to fully face him. The defined, regal edges of his face, those nebulous eyes gazing far into space and beyond. He was worried. He was giving you all this information to prepare you for the worst, which you were absolutely sure he witnessed first-hand plenty of times before. The hoktril did more than control people’s bodies. It controlled their minds.
And breaking that control? It comes with a hefty price.
“Sincline is different and so is your Emperor. One wrong move can start a series of irreversible damage, both to you and to him,” Lotor tried to suppress the guilt he felt over Narti, he tried so hard, “Not even in my reality have we had the proper research done about mind sharing. If this does not work, if you are...if you can not return to your own body, Kylan knows what must be done.”
“Yes. Yes, he informed me of what he will do if I fail.”
Four of the five years have already passed since both Voltron and Emperor Lotor disappeared. You know not what happened to the Coalition nor Blades of Marmora. All you knew was that this was the last year before the Galra Empire declared Lotor dead. The last year before another Kral Zera ceremony commences and someone else sits on the throne.
But what happens after that? Would the universe be submerged in war for another 10,000 years? Can the universe survive that long without peace? Or will planets rely on the return of Voltron once more?
No. No, Kylan knows better than that. Voltron was not an ally anymore. Voltron was not reliable. It was no use depending on weapons of mass destruction to save those suffering under war. This was something Kylan understood and, after all that has happened? You would be slapped silly to believe anyone else would side with Voltron if they came back.
No more one savior. It was time to unite everyone for a chance of peace, both through the Galra and the rest of the known universe.
“Before I go, there is something...else I wish to share. Something personal,” his voice quieted down when he reached the last word.
You remained silent, allowing him to continue gifting you with his advice, but no more words followed his train of thought. Now, he took a few precious seconds to study you. Your complexion had paled slightly since he first laid his eyes on you. The shine in your hair? Dull and unkempt, save a quick run through with your fingers as a poor replacement for a comb. Overall, it seemed as though your health was failing. And failing fast .
It tugged at his heartstrings to see you like this, but you needn’t know that bit of information. Perhaps you just needed...time to recollect yourself. To take care of yourself without his aid. Sometimes, for one to grow, the best course of action is inaction. Step out of the way. Finding Lotor on your own would do you good. Reaching for that hope, achieving what you thought was impossible, it will do you good.
“What is it?” you asked after a prolonged moment of staring on both of your ends.
“Nothing. It is nothing.” Lotor raised his chin proudly, which you mimicked perfectly.
Good, good . You still had that spark in you somewhere. That inner compass has not shattered yet. He hopes this trial will be successful. You have the tools, you have the means, you have the drive and the unbreakable will. You learned from the best, know the humbleness that came with your lessons, understood the risk of commanding the power of life-sharers.
“I wish you all the luck in the universe.”
But he knew, deep down, you didn’t need luck. Especially when he saw the elite skills of the survivor in your eyes.
The plan was solid. Everything was set up how it should be, whether you failed or not. Your training was your strength, your mind resolute, and the choice? The final decision resting in your overworked hands? You were ready. And yet, some part of you, some small throbbing part in the scar on your shoulder, kept whispering caution signs. Warnings. Remember the past.
Remember how you almost died when you thought everything was going according to…
“Are you ready?”
You took a deep breath, truly considering Kylan’s words. The Paladins were watching with tension thick in the air as the platform floated in front of the mech’s face. There was something unnerving about those hollow eyes, those quintessence-fueled mist leaking out of the corners of it. That feeling of being watched, being judged, being held under a microscope only intensified the closer you stepped towards it.
It reminded you of facing a door, completely unaware of what would happen when you opened it.
“Kylan,” your voice held no inflection, no hesitation, but when you turned to face him, he saw something different flutter behind your eyes.
Resolute, yes, but also...peaceful in a way he only saw in the most desperate of patients. Those who knew the road was ending. Those who still walked forward knowing their choices were running out. But even in the face of the unknown, there was always a choice. You were confident. You were ready for whatever you will witness within Sincline.
This was not the final destination for you, but if it was, then you would be damn glad for Plan B.
“You are ready,” he answered for you.
And that was what you needed to hear. Closing your eyes, taking a deep breath, then reaching forward, your fingertips grazed the cold, dark metal. You pressed your palm flat against the faceplate, calm and collected, but your heart was loud in your ears. You’ve gone off by yourself before. You’ve survived by yourself before. Yet, this? Going somewhere no one else has gone before? Into a realm where the hypothetical soul resided?
It was a new frontier you weren’t sure you would return from. Or want to.
With your mild glowing hand, you felt some force pulling you. From your wrist to your shoulder, your chest, your entire body, all the energy began draining from your very soul. What you expected was to feel cold, feel fear, feel a shared connection of some sort. A prodding into your mind, something familiar like with Kylan or with the Black Paladin.
Panic should have instinctively kicked in, should have forced you to back away, retreat from this unfamiliar path before you. This wasn’t the expected result. You weren’t meant to feel...warm. Comfortable, peaceful in the mind, untroubled, as if unreasonably high on a dose of serotonin. The inner turmoil was gone, the black haze clouding your mind these past years was dissipating and clearing a way for tranquility.
It felt so, so good. You couldn’t think of a time when you last felt such innocent emotions. And it lured you in. Made you forget for a moment where you were, what you were doing, what your plan was. The hum of the ship was muted. The thudding in your chest reduced to normal. Slow, slower yet. Your sight became hooded, body too lax to hold yourself up properly, and you fell.
You fell into a deep sleep, unaware of Kylan’s voice calling to you, catching you in his arms as his hand immediately reached up to test your pulse. You had none.
It was odd to say, to even think about considering the grand years of the human lifespan, but you believed that souls simply cease to exist after the body can not function any longer. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For the birth of life, there are fatal wounds of death. For tears of sadness, there are tears of happiness. For every act of war, there are strides for peace. It was a cycle. Always changing, always moving, never stagnant.
Once the body fails, what is the point of the soul staying?
Moving meant being alive. Running meant going forward. And fighting meant defending. You reject times of peace because there really wasn’t a time of peace. You reject war because war doesn’t last forever. There was a balance you learned in life, your life, other people’s lives. Something you would have never discovered had you not taken that step into the unknown. Had you not tripped, had not begged, had not fallen into the pit of despair and pulled yourself out of it.
And yet, you were glad you were wrong.
”Good morning, darling.”
Blearily, your eyes parted and slowly adjusted to the view before you. The sight was one for sore eyes, one a deep part of you doubted was real at all. It couldn’t possibly be that easy. It couldn’t possibly be...him, staring at you with curiosity and a softness you didn’t dare believe was directed at you. And was that a smile?
He was smiling . Lotor was wearing a genuine smile on his face.
Silver locks were draped over his pillow as he used his palm to hold his head up, elbow propped on the cushy bed. He wasn’t in his usual armor attire. Actually, he wore a loose shirt that showed off his defined collarbones and smooth skin along his neck. You dragged your eyes upwards, from his mouth to his nose and eventually his nebulous orbs, those colors you rarely glimpsed at when in a deep dream.
And you whispered, quietly, hesitantly, hopefully , “...Lotor?”
At that, his entire demeanor brightened up, “It is good to see you again.”
Why were you so...comfortable?
“I am here.”
He raised his fingertips to skim over your cheek, brushing a stray hair from obstructing his view of you. The affectionate gesture felt potent, much more than you ever recall like the time he kissed you, held you at night, kept you safe and secure against his encompassing form. The night he bit you was one that burned into your memory. The panic you remembered, the demand to stop, the weak excuse you gave him.
But now? Oh, your chest was blooming with caressing tendrils of happiness as if this? Right here? With Lotor? It was meant to be. It felt perfect. Nothing felt wrong, not even the flow of peace surrounding your very being. There was no pain, no fatigue, no dark thoughts suffocating your mind with every breath you take.
It was...tranquil. And it felt so, so good .
“Why are you crying, my dear?” he held no worry in his tone as he erased tears away from the corner of your eyes with his thumb.
And you were. Your brows were pinched and the trickle of tears watering your sight, blurring the image of Lotor - fuck, he really is here - right besides you. His gentle smile, his luminous shining gaze, the warmth of his hand reminding you of the very first time he held you like so. You sobbed, you couldn't contain it, your heart aching and yearning for you to go. Go to him. Be at peace.
This is what you were born for, to be with him. To be happy.
No words were said. You rushed forward and buried your face into his chest, tucking yourself under his chin as if the galaxy itself fitted you there. These aren't tears of sadness, or agony, or slow-spiraling despair into an empty hollowness. These were joyful tears, feelings of accomplishment after toiling for years under duress. Tears of relief. At long last, you found your sanctuary.
“Lotor…” you choked out, he held you tighter, “Lotor...you... Lotor …”
It was then you would come to realize that, when the matters of the heart and the brain were at battle with one another, your mind has always, always , became the champion. Except here, right here and right now. When you shunted away those festering feelings, boarded them up and told them to stay, nurtured them in your own silent spring way, they finally burst forth in never-ending waves of unfiltered, unrestrained happiness.
You once thought it was suffocating to release so much. Your father’s death, the guilt of inaction costing him his life, it never left you. And again, this time, by choice. You chose the wrong side of the morality battle with the universe on the thin, fine line and it took more and more energy to reinforce the inner chambers of your heart. You lost Lotor. You swear , you lost him.
“I am here. Please, let me see your face once more. Let me banish this sorrow from your eyes.”
And he did as he promised, touches so soft you were hard pressed to believe he really was a gentle giant. Carefully tending to you with eyes shining so brightly of peace reverence, as if time itself no longer existed. This felt right. You could sense that he, too, radiated the same feelings of completion between what little space was left between you two.
This felt perfect.
They say happiness is a mix of chemicals released in the brain which triggers those good, addictive feelings. If that were the case, it was a wonder they never created it into a morally-acceptable pharmaceutical drug upon discovery. But, with your gaze lingering on the eternal sun setting over the horizon, you thought maybe this was better. Especially with Lotor holding your hand in his, that curious thumb idly tracing mindless paths over your skin.
The tickling sensation pulled a grin from you. The squeeze pushed you to lean against him, shoulder to shoulder. He wasn’t warm, but you still felt the comfort of companionship wash over you regardless. Not even the sun’s rays were of concern to you. Just him, just Lotor.
“It feels good to be home,” you said, “I never thought I would see this place again. I thought the sea had swallowed the island whole.”
“Nature has a funny way of taking and giving,” he spoke softly while shifting to slide his hand around your waist and you had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t talking about the ocean, “Will you tell me about your life here?”
Oh, but where to start? Do you tell him why you moved here? Tell him about abandoning your post as a doctor to live a simple life of fishing? Or about how every night, you childishly watched the stars and wondered if that age old myth about wishes were true?
“I was scared, after my father passed away. So, I ran to the only place he told me about. His home, the island he grew up in without a care or concern in the world. I thought that I would feel safer here. Safer from...death, I suppose,” you paused, reflecting upon your past, “But even though the weight became lighter, I still felt terribly alone. If Shiro hadn’t found me first, I would’ve eventually looked for him.”
“You do not have relatives? Your mother? A sibling?”
Usually, you would feel a disturbing, harrowing emptiness when your mother was mentioned. A reluctance to speak about her, to even think about her, would have left you disheartened for many days and nights.
Old habits die hard, especially when they turn into an instinctive reflex.
“What about your mother, Lotor?”
Then he leaned his cheek on the crown of your temple.
“Honerva. Her name was Honerva. An intelligent woman, or so I have read in her research. And then, she became ill. Poisoned with pure quintessence exposure.” Lotor contemplated about his mother, about the evil woman she became, about the monster, the witch who was his only tie to Altea, “She died long ago. The hollow person she is now is nothing more than a shell of her former self.”
His father’s puppet. How did they fall so far? He supposed he could ask himself the same thing, but that thought never had a chance to flutter over his head. It was instantly wiped away, banished into nothing, and those good, good feelings came back again.
“Do you miss her?”
“No. What has happened, has happened. We may be tied by blood, but I will never accept her as kin.”
Not after everything she has done. Not after everything she allowed to happen. Not after preventing him from saving those he loved.
And yet, the calmness pulsating from Lotor’s soul mixed with your own feelings as well. It was...it was refreshing, like two rivers finally joining in kindred spirit after years of wayfaring. Of carving new paths, of going where no road existed, of coming to terms with the cards dealt to you. No one was ever a lone wolf in the galaxy and it truly seemed like you finally found your partner for life.
“Well, that makes two of us with less than subpar mothers.”
The meager pace of daily life was, in fact, something you greatly enjoyed. In times of war, peace prevails, and all that hoohaw. Now, it seemed like fate had decided that the horrors of bodies dropping, blood oozing, limbs breaking, and sorrowful cries should no longer be placed upon your shoulders. And, by that strange stroke of luck, it was decided that Lotor should have a well-deserved break, too.
And, boy, you were going to extend this ceasefire zone for as long as you can. Days, months, years, you lost track, and you lost something equally as important during that time as well.
“My love, will you come here for a second?” you asked from the kitchen, ladle stirring the pot slowly, “Can you taste this for me? I think it might be a little too spicy.”
He came through the door, towel around his neck and droplets of water glistening on his face. A thing that became a normal occurrence was his fascination with being as bare as possible within the meager home, sans briefs per your request. A thing that also became a normal occurrence was his unquenchable appetite for trying different foods.
“Careful, it’s hot. Very hot,” you warned, holding the lip of the utensil up for him.
He sipped. He licked his lips. He grinned with a nod of approval, like he always did before.
“Tastes perfect. You must be a natural at this, no? Perhaps I should cook for you a famous dish a kind old lady on Balmera made for me,” Lotor leaned against the wall, showing off only his best assets for your eyes only, “Did I ever tell you about my travels to the Balmera?”
You loved listening to his stories, especially about those of his trials and tribulations throughout the universe. One day, you will experience it for yourself. One day, he will take you there. One day. Lotor always ended his rambling with those two little words. One day. One day, I promise.
Traveling around Earth was one thing, but traveling the entire known and unknown cosmos? That was the adventure of a lifetime and you would be a fool to pass that up. Who else better to go with than Lotor? Than your friend? Than your...your best friend? Was that the right term? Or was it something more?
His voice faded into silence, soup still piping hot and tempting right before him. Strange, considering he was right in the middle of the interesting part of his story, the part where a cave-in nearly took his leg, but as fascinating as that was, as much as he adored sharing such personal anecdotes of his life, there was something that caused him to stop so suddenly.
And as you could feel his emotions, his thoughts, Lotor could damn well feel yours, too.
“May I kiss you?”
You felt his desire before you heard his question, if those smoldering, curious, wanting, needing stares was anything to go by. The intensity of that small, burning ember - that spark ignited many moons ago, that which never went dormant - was waiting solely on your word. This fervent passion connecting you two together through unseen bonds was always so potent, if not willfully repressed.
“Please?”
Lotor was a man of love, despite being devoid of it from his parents, despite it being cruelly yanked from him by fate, and despite his battle with the entire universe itself.
You felt this. You felt all of this. You kissed him.
And he tasted like freedom.
Where there was water, there was land. And when the land is rich with nutrients, so are the luscious trees growing tall and ripe with seeds of fruit. Today, you had told him you wanted to watch the sunset from the cliffs, just high enough that the tree tops wouldn't block the scenery but add to it instead. And, never one to turn down adventure, he gladly let you lead him along.
This was your territory after all. This jungle was not one he knows of, but he does know your fingers entangled with his will guide him where he needs to be. Whether that be in safety or danger, Lotor felt deep in his chest that no matter what happens, things will turn out fine in the end. Blissfully fine and happy. Ignorantly unaware and falsely sheltered.
Shyness? Secrets? Hidden feelings? No such thing existed between you two. Nothing but the love of lovers, the barest truth of trust, the unwavering loyalty of the heart.
By the time you helped haul him up the last edge, the sun was just beginning to set in that picture-perfect sky of orange and red. No clouds, just the distant call of gulls accompanying a windward breeze. Neither of you remembered anything but this moment, here and now. This was all you needed to achieve that serenity etched in your soul.
“Beautiful,” Lotor murmured, eyes half-lidded in a daze, then he added, “The sunset is not bad either.”
The result was instantaneous and exactly what he wanted. A smile, a pure smile of joy, adding to the gorgeousness of your being.
He brushed his knuckles against your cheek, touching you for the sake of touching, “Thank you, my dear.”
“For what? I know that hike up here wasn’t rough. You didn't even break a sweat.”
“No, it was easy. In fact, I could have gotten us here quicker if you let me carry you,” came his cheeky reply, but before you could retort back, he traced his thumb on the plump of your lower lip to silence you, “No, dear, I wanted to thank you. For being here, with me.”
You leaned into his palm, your own hand coming up to make sure he didn't pull away, and a fluttering softness fell over your eyes. “There is nowhere else I would rather be, Lotor. I love you.”
You have to know that.
He does. Of course he does and he meshed his lips with yours to prove exactly how much he loves you in return. Actions speak louder than words, they always have. Although Lotor was a man who could articulate poetry without putting any effort into it, he knew that the best way to express exactly how he feels would be through his hands.
It took years to carefully nurture this bond, this connection no one else would understand, and it all started with a single touch. And you were so, so glad that burning sensation was no longer there. Not when his fingertips idly meandered their way up the side of your hips, not when he meticulously drew calming symbols on your sensitive skin, and not when he...caressed the raised indents of that scar on your shoulder.
No, no, when he touched that , there was no burning sensation, only an intense throb of discomfort. That surge of something different was enough of a shock to make you pull back, away from his pliant lips that promised oh so much. That feeling...you didn't like it. And it was such a new touch you never thought you would experience with Lotor that it left you confused and hesitant.
For the first time in what you thought were years of living a normal, peaceful life with him, something prodded you in the back of your mind. An unpleasant seed of...bad omens? Is that what it was? No, impossible. As long as you can remember, the two of you have felt nothing but absolute bliss and happiness when being around each other.
“Darling?”
Lotor felt it too. He was concerned, brows furrowed with uncertainty of exactly what just happened. He was suddenly, acutely aware of how this connection, this freedom with no limitations, and how it affected the both of you in great and unclear ways. It came as no surprise then, that your hands clutched his for support.
But support for what? He didn’t know the answer if you didn’t know the question.
The scar was the key. While you remembered joyful moments with Lotor, you became aware you couldn't remember any other moment in your life that brought you happiness before him. You couldn't even remember any painful memories at all, not with him and not with anything else in your history. But this scar, fuck, you had a gut feeling that it was a crucially important time in your life.
So why couldn't you remember how you got it?
You apprehensively touched it, staring at yourself in the mirror for any change to happen. Nothing, except that same initial uncomfortable feeling from a few days ago. Although the sun was setting and Lotor would soon come in to drag you to bed with him, you couldn't help but simply wonder with child-like curiosity about it.
He came up from behind you, letting his presence be known by inquisitively humming his arrival, “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? I feel like I should mention it more often.”
Lotor wound his arms loosely in a hug around you, back pressed against his bare chest, “Getting complimented by a handsome young man such as yourself is always a welcome gift.”
A smooth chuckle rumbled from behind you, “Young? That is debatable considering I am no - how do you say? No Summer chicken?”
“Spring chicken. No spring chicken.” You brought a hand up to guide his face to the space between your shoulder, to which he gladly followed, “But you are young where it counts.”
At that, he greedily pressed himself harder against you, “Ah, yes, where it counts .”
Like right here , where he kissed your cheek. Right here, where he dragged his lips to your ear, releasing a hot breath upon your skin. Right here, along the soft slope of your neck. Right here, at that faded scar with an untold history, a lost history.
“Lotor, do you...know how I got this scar?”
“Mm? This one?” he questioned with a gentle press of his mouth, a whisper of his careful ministrations.
“Yes. I don’t recall anything about it,” your fingertips gently threaded through his hair, “Do you remember your scars?”
Lotor paused, not because of the topic at hand that would have normally brought up instant recollections concerning his bodily scars, but because for the life of him he couldn’t remember either. His body was littered with them, some big, some small, jagged, puckered from not healing correctly, discolored from exposure to intense heat. There was a time he could tell you his personal history for each and every one.
Now? His memory was drawing a blank.
“...No. No, I do not.”
And that was startling, so startling that both of you felt the same urge to discover the reason why neither of you could remember crucial, life changing moments of your past.
Even if they were doused in pain.
It happened sometime during the night. You don’t recall how, or why, but you found yourself wide awake and staring in wonder at Lotor’s resting face. Trying to remember how you two met, your first kiss with him, first shared laugh, first time you shared beds, first time you two spoke. But the memories never came back, no matter how much you searched. It was as if the slow poison of amnesia had already claimed what it sought.
And, oddly enough, you were less scared now that you knew the truth you discovered.
It stole everything from you right under your nose. Yet, for the life of you, you didn't know how to get it back. They were your memories, your history, regardless if it was good or bad. But did you want to remember? Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe you two were better off not knowing about the imaginative atrocities that happened in your past. Maybe you should just enjoy what you have now.
“I can feel your mind wandering a thousand light years away, darling,” a sleepy-laden purr spoke, “And your hands gripping my waist also gave it away.”
Immediately, you released your hold and gave him a gentle, soothing rub in apology. Lotor responded in kind, always holding you preciously in his warm embrace. If he could already feel your thoughts, then he must at least know the vague acceptance drifting between the bond.
“Tell me.”
After he placed a kiss on your forehead, you sighed, “Do you...feel like we’re missing something? Forgetting something?”
“Like what, dear?”
“I don’t know. It’s like I forgot to turn off the stove. Or I left the water running in the tub.”
“Hm. Catastrophically deadly, yet can easily be rectified if we but get out of bed and look for ourselves,” Lotor mused, almost jokingly, almost seriously, “In truth, I wonder the same thing.”
He was exquisitely happy. That much was true. It was like a haze, an addicting haze that fogged his mind and distracted him in only the most pleasant of ways. But how did he get here? How did you get here? For all the days that came, the past was gone, and he was a man who lived in the now. Lived for the future, for the endless possibilities he was to face. A future with you.
Lotor shifted onto his back, allowing you to use his chest as a pillow of sorts, then let out a deep sigh. Part of him should appreciate what he has, for he was positively sure he worked hard for it. This was the fruit of his labor. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Yet, another part, one muffled and slowly picked away from his thoughts, told him the truth. If he couldn’t remember how he achieved this, all the blood, sweat, and tears he went through, then did he really deserve it?
“Should we be...worried?”
“This scar here, how did you get it?”
Your fingertips traced up along his forearm, across the discolored flesh with darkened pigmentation. A burn, most likely, but healed miraculously well. It had a circular ridge to it, one telling the both of you that it most likely was a through and through bullet shot. Lotor followed the curious pattern with his eyes as he tried to rack his brain for an answer.
“I am not quite sure, but the way you touch it sends a delightful shiver down my spine,” he gently plucked your fingers from his arm then kissed them ever so softly, “Which tells me that it most likely had something to do with you.”
Why else would he feel good when you touched him?
He continued with a plan in mind, “Darling, do you get that same feeling when I touch you here?”
His lips trailed to the back of your palm, laying claim higher and higher, until he stopped at the jagged faded lines ending at your elbow. Lotor imagined you must’ve fought a lion, a beast, for such claws to embed deeply into your skin. He imagined you healing yourself, wrapping gauze around your wound to prevent a bloody mess. He saw you as a fighter, a survivor, but from what?
“I do. It feels…” you murmured, your own thoughts muddled with a fading feeling of relief, “Safe. I feel safe.”
Not scared. Not panicked. But rather, a lingering catharsis that you were guarded. You were in good hands.
Then, as you were admiring the fond look behind his eyes, a flash of horrified fear crossed his face. Something was wrong. Shambles of buildings were falling. A dark pit was behind him, just about to swallow him whole. The blaring red alarm, entire room crumbling, glass flying and hazardous electrical wires sparking all around. But his face, you saw him falling, falling , eyes wide and -
And you blinked. It all vanished. You blinked again, breath caught in your fear.
Tears welled up in your eyes and your heart burst with waves of pain, choking your throat from speaking. What was that ? What was that grip squeezing your chest? Silencing you from telling the one you love that you saw him die, saw him fall to his death while you couldn’t help him. While you couldn’t save him.
“Dear? My heart, what - “ he pulled you to his chest, crushing you in a hug, a protective shield to defend you from what was ailing you, “What was that?”
Whatever it was, he felt it resonate in his soul. Lotor did not like it.
Most, not all, of Lotor’s dreams consisted of the time he spent with you on the beach, or times spent together on the sand stargazing off into deep space. They were tranquil and he always woke up smiling, feeling happier when he could turn around and see your resting face in the morning. They were blissful, even. But this one? His last dream? It was a nightmare, one he didn't think was even possible to conjure up in his mind.
Lotor’s eyes shot open as cold dread trickled over his body. He reacted instantaneously, an instinct his muscles knew by memory when something scared him. The need to survive when danger was lurking in the shadows. And there was definitely something frightening him at that moment. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he knew what he felt wasn’t good.
“Mm...Lotor?”
His bare back was turned towards you as he sat on the edge of the bed. Shoulders hunched, head hung low and his hair attempted to cover his troubled posture. He was still shocked by what he witnessed, whether real or not, and he found that his voice was failing him right now. Not when it was still fresh in his mind. That scene, they were gruesome, horrendous , and he -
But you felt his turmoil. A small inkling of it, but it was there and he was hurting.
“Go back to sleep,” he managed to whisper just loud enough that you heard him.
“What’s wrong, my love?”
Love . Was that why it hurt so much? Because he saw someone he loves die? He heard the deafening bang of a bullet. He saw it pierce right through your shoulder. He saw you fall, he saw you bleed , he felt it all. The warm blood staining his clothes, your hands, fuck , your hands clinging onto him for dear life. He felt the life drain from your eyes, he felt the pain of his heart ripping into irreplaceable pieces -
No. No, no, no ...!
Lotor brought a hand up to cover his eyes, needing something, anything , to tear those images from his mind. The comforter shuffled behind him and your body pressed up against his as an anchor to reality. A reassurance that whatever was clouding his mind, it will pass, and you were alive. You were here with him. The evidence was right there. The proof was in your touch.
“I saw you die.”
And he wishes he never had to say those four words ever again.
It happened more frequently now, but with unfamiliar faces neither of you could name. Lotor’s dreams became more vivid, more clear in the night when he was deep in sleep. Your hallucinations would flash randomly during the day, sometimes he would notice with the way you turned away from him. Sometimes you would bury your face in his chest. Sometimes the shared pain would steal the breath right out of your chest.
It got worse and worse. Lotor dreamt of his mother. His father. Then a woman with antennas and triangular facial markings. Then he saw people like him, with pointed ears and uncertainty on their expressions. He dreamt of a cat. A blind teammate. His invaluable generals. Death, there was death. So much death. Countless screams of those he cared for, those he trusted.
Then...a glass cage.
“I don’t want to see this anymore,” you stared at the sunset as the bonfire blended almost perfectly with the sky, “I don’t want to see all this...this pain .”
The war, the soldiers, a man you called brother in arms. Young infantry dying by the dozen. Faces of unknown species seeking your aid, some you felt were evil. Some who were good. Some you purposely murdered to save the planet. Some you saved who backstabbed you for their own gain. The slaves, the refugees, the ones who died in the cell with you. The ones who mourned, who begged to live, who begged for someone to take this pain away.
“Something’s wrong,” he was tired, oh so tired, “This is not...it is not right.”
What happened to the good feelings? The laughs, the smiles, the high he gets when you say those three little words to him? Or was that the illusion? Were you real? Was he? Was any of this?
Lotor had a desperate feeling he was needed somewhere. And you? You had a gut intuition that you were here for something important. Something more important than just you and him living a never-ending peaceful life. Why else would these visions, these nightmares, warn the both of you now?
“We prepare tonight. Tomorrow, we leave at dawn.”
You knew the jungle like the back of your hand. Navigating around with not one, but two expert survivalists was no problem. The real issue was that the trees, the dirt paths, somehow kept leading you two back to the small hut you once called home. The ocean was endless, not even with a sliver of land in the distance. And it seemed as if time itself was looped with an eternal sunset painted in place. But more importantly, you two were scarily isolated. There wasn’t another soul on the island. No village, no city, no one at all.
The two of you traveled as far as you can, hand in hand with barely enough determination to keep both of you afloat. When fatigue would hit, you would rest for a shorter amount of time recommended. Was your health also not real? Was it possible to walk until the land underneath your feet gave out? Could you breathe underwater? Was drowning only an illusion you set upon yourself?
“We’re...is this a simulation?” you asked Lotor upon realizing that, although it had been days since you two last ate, neither of you were hungry, “Are we...are we trapped here? A spell?”
He squeezed your hand as reassurance, “If it is, they are doing a wonderful job at gating our memories.”
There were bits and pieces still missing. You remembered Shiro. Something named...Voltron. You remembered Coran, but there was a person blurred out from your thoughts. And his. Lotor recalls his time in exile as well as running from his father. He recalls killing him. Lighting the flame at the Kral Zera. Oriande. Then, nothing. He woke up here, in a soft bed with you by his side.
“We will get out of here, my dear,” Lotor sealed the promise with a chaste peck of his lips against yours, “We can not dwell here any longer. Is there anything else you can remember from before?”
You closed your eyes and combed your fingers through your hair, “It’s all very vague. I remember Kylan and the Alteans at the Colony. We were - they were being evacuated. Then...your general, Axca. She was there, too, but I don’t know why.”
“Acxa? The last I remember of her was when I fought my father. I was the Emperor, that much I know, and that is why I must return to my throne. Do you recall the Paladins?”
“Yes. Yes, Shiro. He was the Black Paladin and my dear friend. We fought in WWIII together. There was...Pidge? Keith, Hunk, and Lance. All of us were from Earth, but someone else was there,” you looked up, trying and hoping and begging for the answer to fall on you, “Two people. Coran and…”
“ Allura ,” the both of you said simultaneously.
Brown skin. White hair. Child-like morals. A voice with no power. A crown with no claim. A princess who was unprepared for the retaliation of war. A princess who blindly committed murder under the guise of justice.
“Allura...she…”
Realization dawned upon Lotor’s face. His eyes frantically looked at you, then the jungle, then back to you. The fight. The Rift, he was in the Rift, surrounded by white, formless creatures eating him, clawing him -
“...killed. She killed me. They abandoned me.”
Left him to die inside Sincline. The machine meant to save worlds, not destroy them. The machine he worked so diligently on with Allura. He poured himself into it...and so did she. What exactly did her Altean powers do to the sentient being?
“My creator.”
Time stopped then. The wind in the trees froze in place and all the sounds of life came to an abrupt halt. Even the clouds and rays of sunshine filtering through the branches no longer had that whimsical touch to them. The illusion remained still, but the two of you could now feel another presence within the area.
“The...the robot?” you asked, “Sincline is doing all of this? How?”
“Sincline is sentient, just like the lions. Just like Voltron,” he explained while connecting the dots in his head, “It...it can not be. I hear it. Do you hear it?”
No, you didn’t hear it, but you felt like you were being watched. Not maliciously scrutinized, but rather protectively. As if someone was there making sure you were safe and happy. Well-taken care of with no worries in the world. Pampered and secured. Blinded to the reality of what horrors lie behind the door.
And that's when you realize why you were trapped here. You opened the door, volunteered to delve where no soul has gone before, and you found him. You, too, were pulled into the euphoric haze of ignorance, force-fed happiness by the spoonful, and had your memories fade away with every restful night.
“Lotor, we have to - we have to get out of here.”
“I do not think we can,” he pulled you close to his side, now fully aware of the situation you two were in, “It locked us in here. It is not our choice. We are in Sincline’s realm.”
“I will keep you safe, my creator.”
“No, you don’t understand - We have to leave. I - I remember now. Haggar is killing people to look for you. The other reality, their war coming. The Alteans, they need you,” the urgency in your voice matched the panic he felt radiating from you, “And so does the Empire.”
It wasn’t a matter of wanting to stay here. You simply couldn’t. This place was not real, and neither was the happiness that came with it. Your absence, Lotor’s absence, will put the fate of the universe and all realities in critical danger. There was no hiding and you will not stand aside in this dire situation.
“I know, darling. I know -”
“Sleep now.”
“Sincline!” he shouted to the sky, “You must set us free.”
He received no response. No answer to his demand. Nothing, except the environment slowly disappearing, peeling down the image of tropical trees into the very cosmos itself. Stars littered all around you two, blinking and twinkling in the vast sea of deep, dark blue space. There was no floor, no sky. Just the two of you, hand in hand.
“Are you...not at peace, my creator?”
The voice. The voice spoke with such innocence, such confusion as to why Lotor wanted to leave this paradise. Sincline created it for him because it was made to do so. It had both his and Allura’s virtues in one. It knew of the wars and evils out there, which is why it wanted him to stay here. To stay blissfully ignorant and bask in tranquility for all of eternity.
Lotor took a deep breath. A child. Sincline had the mentality of a child who only wanted to take care of -
“I am. However...”
Then, he squeezed your hand tighter, reminding himself that although he was at peace, he still had catastrophic problems to fix. To prevent . And you were here, dedicated to the final result. Ready to see it through to the end, struggles and death and all.
“I am needed elsewhere. We are needed elsewhere. You know this, do you not?”
Of course it did. It was careful to erase the memories of your past, of his past, but the truth can not be hidden. It can not be forgotten.
“Sincline, I thank you for saving me, protecting me, but it is time for me to go back now. For... us to go back. ”
For a while, it was ominously silent. You weren’t sure if minutes or days or years passed. Each tick of a second only made you dread that maybe, just maybe, Sincline wasn’t as virtuous or merciful as you had hoped. If it adopted traits from Allura, then who knows how far it will go to keep you two safe?
“If that is what you wish, my creator, it will be done.”
“I will see you soon...Protector of the Universe.”
The invisible floor gave way and the both of you began falling, falling, falling until visible pitch black darkness surrounded you two.
Neither of you dared to let go.
The first of your senses that came back to you was your sight. Then, the chill of death being chased away by your very real beating heart. Kylan was above you with your head propped on his lap and his fingers pressed against the side of your throat. His face was filled with both bafflement and disbelief.
He couldn’t believe it. You were dead, but now? You had a pulse and you were breathing .
“Lo...Lotor - “
A loud hiss interrupted your mumbling as the cockpit window disintegrated into hexagonal light. With what little energy you could muster, you pushed yourself up to your feet and fell forward. You had to get to him, had to be sure Sincline kept to its word. Had to be sure Lotor came back, too. There was that doubt whispering in your head, “What if it all wasn’t real?”
And then, you heard him scream .
Lotor yelled in agonizing pain, the onslaught of all his senses coming back at once was too much for him. Cold, his entire body was freezing , and what should’ve been the comforting warmth of his blood rushing through his veins only felt like searing hot lava tendrils setting him on fire from the inside. The cost of returning from the dead hurt more than anything he had experienced in his life.
He was crying. The sounds of footsteps rushed into his ears, a weak call of his name from your lips, the feeling of taking that first breath, it all sent him into a panic attack. His heart wasn't used to beating again after being off for so long. Lotor’s sight was blurred by his tears and, fuck , why couldn't he stop screaming?
“Lotor, listen - ”
Your arms closed around him, holding him up when he started to lean off his seat. His claws clung to you, dug into you, secured himself to you in his time of facing life again. Too many emotions flushed through him, jolting him with fear, with safety, with love, with hate.
“It’s okay, it’s okay .”
Lotor’s entire body was shaking. He was gritting his teeth together, trying to bide through the feeling of his chest heaving much too quickly. All he wanted to do, all he knew what to do in this moment, was hide. And he wasn’t sure why, but he felt he had to for his own sake.
“You’re safe. Lotor,” something wet hit his cheek, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe .”