35.
my muse dies in your museâs arms.
     â lotor! â
     it seems pointless. screaming into the astral as if someone might hear him , but itâs all he has , confined to this plane , watching his friends battle each other. they fight as if death is the only viable outcome , but it should never have come to this. some part of him believes he is to blame. if only he had been there , been himself to divert the impending battle , to cease the fighting and work this out. lotor had wanted to change the future for the galra , and he knew that hadnât been altered. perhaps there was no forgetting the choices he made , but would they condemn him when he wanted to be better? would they be so unforgiving as to sentence him to a mindless death , consumed by energy so powerful it could ruin him?
     â lotor! â
     he wished desperately that it wouldnât be so. but where keith had once heard him , he now stood alone amidst a field of blinding light , surrounded by energy that continued to press down on him , crushing black until he was sure theyâd collapse into themselves. they were quickly running out of time , and his fears were slowly growing. he could hear the others shouting , understood that they would die here if they stayed any longer , and it became painfully apparent they intended to leave lotor behind.Â
     he doesnât know if itâs black , the quintessence , his charged feelings , or a combination of everything , but the dynamic shifts and he can see lotor sitting in the cockpit of the sincline. his heart aches at the sight of him , lost and consumed by the energy pulsing through every fiber of this dimension. it warps and twists him until he becomes something almost unrecognizable.
     â lotor , listen to me â  â  but his voice goes unheard as he watches lotor fight voltron with single-minded focus.  shiro knows that he canât be heard , but it doesnât stop him from reaching out , from pressing a palm to lotorâs cheek , holding him gently despite the deranged , feral look that painted his features. he didnât know if lotor could hear him through the quintessence pouring out of his veins , blinding him to everything , or if somewhere deep inside he was desperately trying to reach back , but he didnât pull away and shiro forged on.
     â iâll find you , lotor. i wonât leave you to die alone. i wonât. â  he cradles his face between his hands , metal thumb caressing his cheek , and vows to himself that he would find a way to make this right. he stares into lotorâs unflinching gaze , pained by the lack of recognition and feels the pull of black , dragging him away.   â i promise.  â









