The Galra turns his chin up again. "Why do you laugh, paladin of Voltron? Can you not see the odds have fallen undoubtedly in my favor?"
As Lance wiped the blood from his mouth, a weak smirk settled on his lips. "It's not so unfortunate-if this is h...
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The Sincline vessel looked so different.
The white lion stood before him now in a fully physical form. Some of the features, finer details, of the vessel had changed. However, ultimately, it was as Lotor intended it to be—and now almost completely white. It wasn't dead metal anymore—no, it was very much alive.
The white lion's voice was the same—everywhere, and nowhere. Loud, soft, a whisper of a shout of an echo.
"You are the first human to come here. The first of your kind to be worthy. The first of your kind to bear the marks."
Well, at least the deity was feeling a little more conversational.
Lance looked himself over, finding himself completely fine—not even an ounce of exhaustion from the trial, like it never happened.
And then, scanning his surroundings again, he grew worried at the lack of princely presence. "Where's Prince Lotor?" he asked, and hoped it wasn't too forward to say to a god.
The white lion took a seat.
"You have a trial yet," it said, completely dodging the question. Lance grew frustrated, but had faith Lotor would come out the other end. Maybe he was already waiting somewhere—after all, Lance just heard that he wasn't done with the trials.
The lion stood back up just as quickly, stalking around him atop the mountains like an earthly wildcat would do. Lance followed him with the slightest tilts of his head, and nothing more.
"Your life is so small compared to others," it said, surprising Lance when it almost seemed . . . taunting. He figured such petty attitude would be below a god, but maybe not.
Lance was growing anxious—and tired of always having something to prove. On top of that—skeptical of this so-called god. He wanted to get out there and stop the two groups of people he considered important to him from ruining each other.
"You're not the first to underestimate us," he said boldly. "But the thing about humans is that there is so much more to us than even we know. Yes, my life may be small to you. Sometimes, it seems small to me too—but it is everything to me. And I'll give it to you if that's what it takes—if it means you'll help us bring peace to the universe."
He shook when he said it, knowing what it could mean, and being so wildly unprepared for it despite all the preparing he'd already done. He wouldn't take it back, though. Not when everything depended on it. Lance wanted his own life to be the last that cruelty ever took from this universe. It would be a small price to pay, he thought, if it meant that countless others would live.
The lion let a long moment of silence pass then, and maybe it was another test, but Lance sat still. He wanted the White Lion to make the next move.
And it did.
White leant down, so similarly to how Blue or Red did, and opened its metal maw.
Lance's memories of not too long ago struck him with a conflicting familiarity as he took the same steps again into the lion's maw. The interior was just as he remembered, and again, incredibly similar to Red or Blue.
