Voltron Final Season REWRITTEN

Episode Twelve - The Trials of Leadership

Lotor, pilot of Sincline, wakes up. He groans, and tries to rise, but finds himself strapped down to the bed he is in.

"...you aren't going anywhere, anytime soon." A voice says.

Sincline Lotor looks up, to see Allura standing over his bed, looking down with hard eyes. The other Paladins are gathered as well. Lance and Pidge have bandages from where they were wounded fighting.

"...what happened?" Sincline Lotor asks in a hoarse voice.

"You grew mad with power. Or...maybe you were always like that." She replies coldly. "You got yourself stuck in the quintessence field, and we left you behind."

"...how long?"

Allura hesitates for a moment. "...more than thirty quintants."

"Thirty quinants..." Lotor muses. "...I want to see."

"See...?"

"Do not play games with me." Lotor says in a voice that is half cough, half growl. "I am not fool enough to believe that a man can spent that long in the quintessence field and suffer no consequences."

Allura bites her lip. "...fine."

She leaves the bed for a moment, then comes back with a hand mirror. For the first time since leaving the quintessence field, Lotor sees himself.

His skin, once a fairly light purple, is now much darker shade. Twin marks trail down all the way down either side of his face. His eyes now glow with a violet hue. He is the spitting image of Zarkon.

Lotor closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. "...why did you bring me back?"

"Technically, we didn't. Zarkon did."

"Zarkon is dead!" Lotor hisses.

"Yes." Allura admits. "The Zarkon of our reality is."

He opens his eyes, and stares. "The...no...no, that couldn't...of course. Voltron. The Comet. I should have figured this could happen. Tell me everything."

Allura's eye twitches with annoyance. Keith, seeing this, jumps in.

"The short of it is that Zarkon, in his own Voltron carved his way into this reality. He's taken over much of remains of the Galra Empire. And...he is using the Alteans from the colonies as weapons."

Lotor does not comment on this. Instead, he asks: "What will you do with me?"

"We haven't decided yet." Keith says.

"Typical. You Paladins always did have difficulty doing what needed to be done."

"Is that what you call it!?" Allura nearly takes a step towards him, but Keith holds her back.

"Enough. If you have nothing of value to offer Lotor, then we'll just lock you up and figure out what to do with you when all this is over."

"That would be a mistake. You should free me."

"And why would we do that?" Keith asks, narrowing his eyes.

"You don't trust me. Understandable. But if you do not trust my word, you can at least know one thing for sure: No one, not in all the cosmos, wants Zarkon dead more than I. And unlike all of you, I've actually succeeded in the task of killing him once before."

Keith looks away, uncertainty on his face.

"...fine. Go on then. Leave me locked up. When you're ready to get your hands dirty, you know where to find me."

The Paladins share a series of awkward glances. All except Allura, who continues to stare at Lotor with scorn.

***