Prologue

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Whoop! Voltron fanfic! Just a heads up I have never written a story where the vastness of space is the playground for the characters and let me just say that is extremely difficult so I'd like to applaud the creators of voltron for their amazing imaginations and creativity c: Anyway hope you enjoy! Disclaimer: I don't own the characters!

He had been summoned.

The Galra prince's expression remained emotionless; his attention drawn to the vastness of pace lying just beyond the long glass window.

By none other than Haggar herself.

He allowed himself to toy with this newfound revelation and found his only response was the slight tickling sensation at the back of his throat - warning of the laughter that was bound to follow.

The message itself was not unexpected. Despite his exile, news of Zarkon's defeat had spread like bio-luminescent spores across several star systems throughout the galaxies.

The Galra were naturally a selfish species, and as Lotor brought a full cup to his lips he contemplated refusing the druid's demand purely out of selfishness. Let his father remain on the brink of death, after all he only had his ego and impatience to blame.

However powerful Haggar thought she was, without a master to serve she would wither and disappear into the flaming rubble that was once the Galran empire.

No matter how much the idea thrilled the young prince had already planned to return and reclaim his birth right. Unlike the previous tyrant he was not chasing revenge nor dominion over those weaker than them.

What he desired was far beyond the understanding of any Galra.

He accepted. Out of his own pure selfishness.

Small delicate fingers guided his lips away from the sweet nectar and towards an equally pair of delicate lips, momentarily distracting him from his own thoughts.

He groaned quietly, mostly out of frustration as the thin fabric of his shirt was slipped off his shoulders, exposing his naked chest to prying eyes.

The female responsible simply giggled and proceeded to remove the offending fabric while the second attempted to pursue a second kiss.

His growing impatience left him restless against his current lover's intimate caring, a low growl bubbling within the confines of his chest as he commanded "LEAVE!"

His chambers were once again empty and with a cleaner atmosphere, his desire to return grew insatiable.

"I'm coming for you."

~

Numb.

It was the only word in the English language that I as the author could use to describe how the paladins were feeling. Yet the word itself was a trivial thing when compared to the ache that rendered their limbs heavy.

Without Shiro they felt no longer like paladins - the impact of their last battle in addition to their rediscovered mortality became an unbearably heavy burden to bear.

While his teammates mourned, the rage within Keith bubbled furiously - like that of a pre-erupting volcano. The memory of his promise to Shiro now a throbbing nuisance lingering in his broken heart and still mind.

If something happens to me, I want you to lead Voltron.

With the rubble scattered and the smoke settled Allura tended to voltron's chosen - making hollow promises of rest and time to grieve for their fallen comrade. The Altean princess remained headstrong, guiding her paladins through their physical healing process, and it was with a heavy heart that Coran watched.

His princess's eyes blazed with a fierceness no altean had ever possessed however, he didn't fail to notice the glistening moistness lining the blue tattoos just underneath her eyes. In her haste, she had failed to mask her tears and to her trusted advisor, Allura's pain was as clear as a dying sun.

He knew he should relieve her of her duties, to allow her to grieve their hero's sacrifice but knew his efforts would be wasted.

~

The blue paladin's eye flickered towards the surrounding healing pods that housed his teammates.

'This wasn't victory' he thought, averting his gaze unable to stomach the sight of the other's limp postures - knowing that he too looked just as defeated.

Unlike the others, a million and one thoughts ran through his mind, his heart committing a self-strangling as he pictured home.

'Fuck! Did Shiro have family?'

An image of a sweet elderly Japanese woman - a possible candidate for shiro's mother - only made Lance's eyes well up with tears.

It was as though an enchantment had been shattered as the remaining paladins lift their faces, staring emptily at a hysterically sobbing Lance.

He could feel their eyes upon him but no matter his desperation Lance couldn't stop his form from trembling or his lungs from heaving as they sought breath between each sob.

"SHIRO!"

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