Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I don't remember ever having a decent night's sleep.

I wish it was because of insomnia. I wish I could say it was because of something normal, but there’s nothing normal about the shit I see. I’ve had the same set of recurring dreams for as long as I can remember. They always depict the same bullshit, night after night of this…  this thing . Everytime I see it, I hear its purr in my dreams, and with it comes the recurring, horrifying... visions. That's the closest thing I can call them, because they’re not like everyone else’s nightmares, or at least so I’m told, they’re too constructed, too repetitive. Sometimes they show me stranger's faces, screaming and calling out to me to save them, sometimes I face an impossible decision, something I can never remember but I know when I wake up in a cold sweat and sobbing that I made the wrong one. A few times the people I see are my parents, my friends, and once it even held Damien, but every one of them are people I fail. I make the wrong choice, I prioritize wrong, I misjudge, or I’m just too slow.

I can feel its purr as soon as I slip into sleep. I know it as well as I know my own handwriting, that rumble within my chest, radiating into my sternum and spreading like the warmth of liquor through my veins, and the golden eyes of a white lion staring into me like a demon of judgement that proves my lack of worth day in and day out.

Medicine doesn't really help. Some drugs knock me out pretty fast but they make the dreams worse. I'm groggier, the visions are hazy, like I'm watching through thick syrup. I make every decision far too slow, and I live with the faux consequences, all in all making the experience all the more… horrible. Scary. 

My parents try to help me through it, but I think they gave up after we hit rock bottom with that psychic who accidentally induced a seizure, apparently. I don't actually remember, that’s what my parents and the EMT’s told me, but I do know my head hurt like crazy after, and the dreams got so bad for the week after that I couldn’t sleep more than an hour a night, practically clawing my throat from the amount of blood I was drowning in.

The intensity of the dreams really vary, and I’m not quite sure why. Sometimes they’re not too bad, sometimes the only person that gets hurt is me, which you’d think is already pretty bad but in comparison to the others it’s actually preferable. Just goes to show just how fucked up these things can get. 

They started to get worse, worse than they’ve ever been, about a week before the comet struck.

My parents work at the space force academy, aka the Garrison, where they’re training the next generation of space explorers; my dad always expected me to join up, but frankly, I don’t give a shit about space like my parents do, or the rest of society for that matter. I study just as hard as anyone else but I don’t want to be an astronaut, or whatever Space Force the government’s got cooking up. I don’t really look up except to look at the clouds or the constellations. I don't know what it is that I want to do, but it definitely isn't that. Not remotely. Honestly it’s just too much nothingness for me up there. What I love is to create: making stories and weaving characters in worlds rich of lore, prophecies, magic, and... certainty, I guess; control. I suppose it’s sort of compensation for the lack of control I feel in my dreams and… like, you know, life. But that’s a lot of psychoanalysis that is, frankly, not necessary to get into.

Needless to say, I am a huge fan of fantasy stories. My favorite’s the ancient original text of the Lord of the Rings, even though it’s like, a century and a half years old, but it’s the origin of fantasy, it’s where it all began, practically the birth of the rise of the fantasy genre. And, it’s for a reason, it’s fucking excellent across the literary board.  

But no one really cares about those stories anymore, not with the major scientific advances turning everyone's gaze to space: ‘The final frontier’. Sci-fi’s gotten a fresh rise because of it, but those stories are really not for me; I’d have to deal with researching science and shit like that, and that’s the worst.

My parents talked to me everyday about what they did that day at the Garrison, and I kind of think it’s to try and convince me to go. They already got me to apply, just to see , and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it when I passed the entry test and still didn’t want to. But seriously, fuck space. 

Which is why, when the comet struck, it was weird that my parents said nothing about it to me. It’s literally a piece of space, crashing into the Earth, right at the Garrison’s doorstep nonetheless, but they acted like it didn’t happen. Normally, I wouldn’t really care, but it was noticeably weird that they pointedly remained silent about it. 

But frankly, I didn’t think to ask about it, or why, as I got a little distracted. I saw it from my bedroom window when the comet descended while I was working on some class assignment. In all honesty, it wasn’t the comet itself that concerned me, even though it was really wicked cool to see it descend and crash so close, for a second or two I was even scared that it would hit the house but it was far away enough that I barely felt the ground shake from the impact. No, what scared me was that it was some sort of catalyst: for the first time in my life, I felt the purr while I was awake. It was deep in my chest, like a second heartbeat, and as the red-lit smoke rose from the place the comet struck I knew immediately that it was the reason why. 

There was this… like a feeling that I translated to words, it’s hard to say exactly what it is, that produced the most unimaginable pull out into the deserts surrounding the academy almost as soon as the purr faded; it wanted me to go to the comet. I always loved to take walks, they helped when I was particularly sleepless, but this was different. I felt like I was holding a string that led to an exit from an eternal maze, and all I had to do was follow it. I almost crawled out of the window right then and there, but I stopped myself at the last second. That’s something a crazy psycho would do, following some weird dream lion’s purring into the forbidden territory of the Garrison for… I can’t even determine why. Because it said so?

Instead, I ran downstairs and told my parents about it. I still remember the look my mom gave my dad when I told them about the purr, ‘ it was so real, I felt it, how is that possible, I’m awake, there has to be something about this comet that made this happen,’ but all they said was that I should call my therapist. They left, to go check it out with the other officials on Garrison grounds I think, as I did as they suggested, and she said something I admit I wasn’t really listening to. I'm sure it’s some other drug to take, but I wasn't home long enough to try it out. 

I spent the rest of the night trying to forget it happened. My parents came back home about two hours later and didn’t mention anything about the comet, they just went to their room and closed the door. It wasn’t like I was paying them much mind anyway; I’m already fucked up to begin with, I don't need to be admitted to an asylum or some shit just because I’m hearing voices, or worse, following this pull, this imaginary purr, into the restricted zone. But I feel in my gut, in my chest… I’m not crazy. Something about this comet is about to shatter my world.

…

White walls, white floors, I’m standing in nothing, nowhere, as far as I can see on all sides. There are shadows to indicate my place among it all, the ground is firm like stone but completely free of any markings to indicate that it’s real.  

I know this place. I’ve been here a thousand times before. It’s my gladiator arena, always spotless until the failure begins, only to be wiped clean for the next trial like a whiteboard. I whirl around, in search for the one, the Julius Caesar that dictates my trials, I’m already getting anxious even though I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened. ‘I have to focus, I have to get ready. I can’t get freaked out when it hasn’t even begun.’

My gaze locks to a pair of golden, pupil-less eyes that bear straight into my chest; the white lion stands with a regal posture, staring at me with its tail flicking back and forth. It has no mane, I believe it’s technically a lioness, but truly it’s just a being beyond anything I can comprehend; all I see is an eldritch horror that causes nothing but suffering and pain, and something tells me deep down that… that thing is what subjects me to this every night. 

I’ve tried to plea in the past, it’s no use. I tried and tried and begged but the trials came no matter what I said, the lion merely looking on with the same inexpression. I tried to attack it… once. I was sick and tired, I was furious and desperate, I hurtled myself at it just to get something to happen, anything different than this. I woke up the next morning with an unimaginable pain of massive teeth digging into the flesh of my throat and cutting off my airway. It wasn’t real, but the asphyxiation that put me in the hospital for a night was. My therapist just said it was a dream so realistic it resulted in my body reacting the way it was expecting. Needless to say, I never tried again.

Tonight, I stare the lion down with resolution. Something about tonight is going to be different. The meteor, the crashed comet… This can’t be a coincidence.

I square my shoulders as I glare at the lion. 

“What was that?” My voice echoes in the empty nothingness, full of venom and spite. I need answers. If I heard it purring while I was awake, maybe this time things will change. Maybe it’ll speak, maybe tell me what the hell’s going on. “Why did I hear you before?” 

The lion blinks at me slowly, its tail twitching in a lazy manner back and forth. I growl in frustration and take a step towards it, “Why is the comet significant? What’s it mean?”

As per usual, the white lion doesn’t answer. It merely stares with a gaze I’ll never understand, quiet and expressionless yet full of depth and something more. Suddenly, with a soft puff and hum it dissolves into black smoke. 

It has begun.

The smoke races towards me, enveloping my being until all I see is darkness. I try to steady my breathing, the rush of the cold shadow whisks around me like a frisking breeze until with a snap it splits, peeling away and forming into shadowy shapes only a few feet in front from me. The smoke lengthens as people form, hopping like crescendo curves to form strangers, people with faces I’ve never seen, all with wide eyes full of fear. They just keep coming, more shadowy smoke stretching out and farther beyond until there must be a hundred or so of these strangers. There’s so many, they extend into the distance like I’m looking down a crowded beach. 

Suddenly, with a hot burst, violet flame leaps around the collected mass, closing them into a deadly circle. The cavernous nothing echoes with their voices shrieking in terror, a clamor that hurts my ears and reverberates in my skull. The flames begin to move, closing into a tighter ring to surround the collection of people. I shake as one woman in particular, the person closest to me, locks eyes with me over the flickering tongues of the purple flames. She’s holding a toddler with wide green eyes, she’s sobbing, her child is too terrified to cry, and with a dull thunderous roar the flames keep inching inward towards the people. They’re crying out in fear, retreating backwards and closing in on each other to escape it, but there’s nowhere to go. They’re trapped. 

I’ve got to do something.

I race forward, but the flames are searing, just being near them makes my skin hot and sharp, but I can’t sit idle. No, I won’t, not when people need me. The woman, her eyes are gray, her hair is streaked with age, yells to me but her words are indistinct over the loud yammer of the terrified people and the dull roar of the flames. I shake my head at her, thinking furiously of what to do, ‘how the hell can I stop the fire? How can I put it out?’ 

I take off my shirt over my head and wave it wildly at the flames, smacking it to the ground in an effort to extinguish it. The flames flicker and wane, but it isn’t enough; they’re too hot, they’re too large, it’s out of control with just feeble cloth. The woman realizes I can’t hear her as she watches me flailing; as I catch my breath and desperately think, I watch her set her jaw in determination and with a cry of pain she thrusts her arms, her toddler at hand, through the flames like on a spit roast to keep the child out of harm’s reach, and while I can’t hear her I can read her lips: take them. 

“No!” I shout. As I step closer to the flames I can feel my skin burn, it hurts like a bitch to be so close but I can’t allow this to happen. “You’re both gonna survive this!” I don’t pause to consider my actions as the idea forms, I just know I’ve got to act. I grit my teeth, steeling myself, and I hold my shirt on my arms as some sort of protection before I jump directly onto the flames at her feet. It doesn’t catch my clothes aflame but it burns all the same, I’m vaguely aware I’m crying out in pain... But it worked. My collapse extinguished the flames in my wake, leaving a person-sized hole in the violet fire. My body sears, and fuck it hurts like hell ; the cloth of my shirt is melting into the skin on my forearms and my eyes water but all that matters is it worked. The woman tramples over me, stepping on my back which stings from the flame and sprints into the distance with her child in her arms. The people nearest to her notice this and immediately race forward as the gap I created begins to close with the slow creep of the flames inward. The pain is all I can feel, the slow sizzle of my flesh and the agony of rough undersides of shoes pressing it closer into the meat below my shoulder blades in haste to escape. I can’t move to get out of the way without stopping them, so I lay there and take it; I don’t blame them, do what you have to do to survive and get the fuck out of there, but it hurts to be on the brunt of it. I grit my teeth, biting onto the singed collar of my shirt clamped in my singed fists but it isn’t enough, it hurts, it hurts, it hurTS-

The steps that shook my ears and roughed the skin on my back like sandpaper on wood stops. I blink, my vision is swimming, but as I raise my head I can see the violet flames ahead of me have begun to engulf the people who couldn’t escape. Their screams are deafening as they’re burned alive and something within me snaps, my vision sharpens like a camera’s focus. I see the skin melting over their bones, the air fills with the horrible smell of burning hair and nausea climbs in my throat. 

I try to rise. ‘I have to rise, I have to, I need to make another gap so more can escape.’ 

I haven’t a clue where the strength came from. I’m in a daze as I claw my way toward the flames. As the searing heat beats on my face, the flame licks at my rawed skin and it hurts so much worse now that I have no protection left. ‘But I have to. I have to make another.’

I don’t think that I will survive extinguishing another hole in the circle of flames, so I have to maximize what I can do this last time as best I can. I stumble to my hands and knees, unclenching my fist from the frayed rope that’s the leftover of my shirt and grit it between my teeth. I steel my nerves, closing my eyes and trying to block out the screams as I leap horizontally, using the length of my body from head to toe to beat out the flames, drop and roll. 

I’m engulfed, and my mind fades to horrendous darkness as I feel myself being burned away. I hear their footsteps racing over me, crying in terror and racing away into the distance, but I can barely feel it as something like a dark mist settles over my vision. 

But I have to know. With all of my remaining energy, I turn my head. Did they make it? 

I watch with utter futility as the shadow of the violet flame inches forward, closing the gap I’d been so desperate to make. There’s still so many, so so many within, and blackened skeletons have begun to litter the ground in a ring like a gruesome mosaic. I suck in a horrible breath that tastes of iron as the flames creep further inward until they consume the last. I lose count of the number of bodies, twisted with their jaws cracked open from the dread screams. I have to close my eyes, but I can’t cry. Nothing comes but the painful well in my throat. I know without looking that I’m down to the meat, there’s definitely no skin left on the front of me and it hurts like hell, so bad that it’s practically numbing. I close my eyes with a sickening detachment, my consciousness parting from my body like the smoke that rises from the corpses. I’ll be lucky if I survive this, but it’s not like I want to. Not when I failed so many innocent people. They didn’t ask to be a part of this…

The pain stops like a flip of the switch. I take such a strong breath that it’s like a shot of adrenaline straight through me, through every drop of blood that jolts my eyes open like I got electrocuted. I sit up, immediately blinking down at my hands and see they’re unmarred, unscarred; there’s no sign of the incineration. I look behind me to see the skeletons are also gone, nothing but the familiar, black mist that started this mess moving towards me in a torrent of shadow. 

On to the next task. 

I swallow the horrified sob that rises in my throat, forcing my breath to steady. I can’t focus on this, I have to turn to the next task or else the people I have to protect will suffer worse than the last. I have to focus on the new task, and learn from the past to do right by them.

The shadowy smoke rips away from where it circled around me as it begins to form into six figures just beyond a yard away. I rise to my feet quickly, ready for anything as their forms solidify. 

Five lie on their stomachs, face down like they just got knocked out from behind. They’re donned in black tunics that cover their arms and legs with some type of hole-filled gray smock on their shoulders, except one. This man’s sleeves are ripped off like he’s a brawler; One of his arms, the only arm I can see, is gleaming black and violet all the way down to his fingertips, like it was spray painted in mottled metallics. The other forms are unrecognizable, yet vary in appearances; one is small and gangly with wild brown hair, some kid no older than fifteen, another is large in all manners of the word with hands bigger than my head, another has rich chestnut skin that’s seen the sun for his entire life, another has a mess of black hair that waves like crow’s wings that stands out starkly against the whiteness of the ground. The final form is nothing but a shadow, towering over the collapsed forms with long, inky claws held over them like it’s some dark priest about to bless the unconscious strangers. Violet flames burn in its eyes, I can feel them boring into my skin as they stare me down.  

“What are they to you?”

I blink stupidly.

… I’ve never been spoken to before. 

I stare at the shadow, flickering my gaze down at the unconscious people before I return my gaze back to the shadow. What are they to me? What the hell’s going on? “I don’t know them.”

“Don’t you recognize a fallen star?” I frown in confusion as the shadow stares me down, its eyes are nothing but violet flame that flickers with a meaning I don’t understand. “Don’t you recognize the glimpse of what is to come?” I stare without comprehension as the shadow continues with a hissing laugh, “What would you do with a broken resolve?” 

Without another enigmatic word, the shadow suddenly evaporates, dispersing like mist before I can fully process what the fuck just happened. So maybe this is the change the comet promised? 

Suddenly with a ragged gasp, like he was holding his breath, one of the strangers stir, the one with the beautifully painted silver arm. I watch him closely as he rises, shaky and slow, with his back turned to me, I cannot see his face. He’s built like a soldier, all rough edges and hard angles, but what’s strange is only his right arm is spray painted. The other is bare, like any other person’s. The man doesn’t move, he only breathes, but slowly his violet and black hand clenches into a fist. The other four people are completely unmoving, yet as I regard them their forms seem uncertain, shadowy, like they’re a heat vision that shimmers off of burning concrete.

Cautiously I approach the man. I hold my hands out and murmur quietly, calmingly as if to a wounded animal, “Hey, uh… Sir, are you alright?”

The man whirls around toward me with dizzying, inhuman speed. His face is like the shadow’s, made of swirling smoke yet instead of violet flame their eyes are gold, pupil-less, just like that lion’s, but the most distinctive mark is the violent violet gash across where the bridge of his nose would be. The man screams, so loudly I have to cover my ears, yet his words are clear, “There is no escape! There is only darkness, the tyranny is eternal and none will survive except the strong!”

I uncover my ears with wide eyes but before I can gather my bearings the shadow faced man tackles me like a football player, I cry out as my back slams into the ground. I raise my arms just in time as fists rain down on me, hard hitting, one feels like a metallic brick pounding sharp and quick and sending shocks of pain up my arms and into my shoulders. The voice shrieks again, blaring like a siren, “I wasn’t strong enough, but are you? Are you strong enough?”

The assault pauses, but before I can even think to fight back those hands grab my wrists and pin them over my head on the ground. I struggle, kicking out but the shadow sits on my chest and holds me down with his body weight easily. Fuck. I’m stuck. Plan B!

“What makes you think you weren’t strong enough?” My voice is more breathless than I want it to be, shaking as my arms tremble the man’s hold but I press on with words that fall from my tongue, yet it doesn’t feel like it’s me who speaks, “You can’t stop fighting when there are people who need you.” 

I haven’t a clue where this is coming from. The words feel true, they are true, but it’s like my tongue knows the background knowledge that my brain does not. 

The faceless man’s eyes flicker with uncertainty and the gold begins to fade, growing less intense. My heart races in excitement, it’s working! I start speaking so rapidly I can barely hear myself, “I don’t need you to test me if I’m strong enough, because fighting will test my resolve better than you ever could. Join me, fight with me and find your strength again… or give up, and know that you’ve already lost.” 

Where the fuck is this coming from? Why do I feel like I know what he’s talking about?

The man doesn’t speak. He merely holds my wrists with such a tight grip I’m almost certain they will bruise, but somehow the pain is secondary to the fire that’s begun to burn deep within, I feel like I could bare my teeth and smoke would emerge. Finally, the shadow speaks in a small voice, I can almost see the whites of the man’s eyes behind the golden haze, “...Maybe you’re right.” Slowly, his grip relaxes as he continues with a tone that holds more certainty, “Maybe… maybe it’s still possible to fight.”

I let out a slight breath of relief as the shadow releases my hands completely, but before I can even sit up the man is suddenly hurled with invisible force away from me. I bolt upright with a cry and immediately I can hear the sickening crack as the man lands at a unnatural angle several yards away from me slumped on his side. I scream in horror and scramble forward on my hands and knees towards them, blood is beginning to well on the ground and it sticks to my hands as I hold his head, shifting it into my lap. Blood wells in his mouth, it trickles down the side of his face and a sob struggles into my throat. I… I had him. I almost had him, how could this happen? Who would do this? 

I look up as the shadow, the original shadow, emerges from nothing, slipping upward like a ghost and hovers just in front of me like the grim reaper, ready to fetch the man’s soul. Its horrible violet flames for eyes glitter in joy as they lock onto me and immediately I drape myself over the man’s body, shielding him with my own before glaring up at the shadow and snarl, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! Leave him alone!” 

The shadow merely smiles. A blackened shadow for a claw appears its side and encircles my waist like it’s just as solid and real as I am, raising me up into the air with the strength of a giant. I kick out, struggling with all of my might right as the shadow draws near, raising another, smaller other claw that launches over and digs into my chest. This pain is different; it feels frighteningly real, I’ve never felt so tangibly alive in that moment as hot blood drips down my chest. I scream in pain as it claws through, like a sucker punch with a handful of daggers, plunging inside, towards my heart. 

“Not even Voltron can protect you here.” 

Suddenly, there’s a loud, thundering roar. The hands holding me recede and I fall to the ground with a pained gasp. Soft, familiar golden eyes appear before me as my vision fades, hot breath ghosting my face as my eyes close. 

…

I jolt upright with a loud gasp, clutching my chest frantically as the horrifying sharp pain of the dream recedes. A rasping sob climbs into my throat as I clutch my head in my hands, the remnants of the dream pummelling in my skull like war drums. Desperately I pray the familiar chant to calm down, “One, two, three, four, five, I’m alive, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, breathe again.”

My breath shakily returns to normal with the practiced rhythm. I let my arms fall back to my sides before falling back onto the comforter. 

I’ll never understand what the fuck is happening, will I? I can feel that there’s some meaning in these dreams, something that I can’t see but I know that there’s more to it than face value… but especially tonight. Something was real about tonight… 

And it’s because of that stupid fucking comet. I fight past the terror and the fear that causes my hands to shake and try to grasp at the already receding straws of the dream in desperation for answers, the shadow plunging its claws into my chest, blackened skeletons, a man with a silvered arm… 

It’s already slipping. I’ve already forgotten the first test, I can’t remember if it was one man or many, all I can feel is the pain in my chest, a punch to my sternum. But I remember the words. The first words I’ve ever been told in my dreams. That means something. Giving up, I roll over and hug my pillow, growling under my breath in a mix of angry frustration and plain and simple hopelessness. I close my eyes and fight to get some rest. I have class tomorrow, I can’t afford to be tired. 

A glimpse of a fallen star. 

...

Needless to say, I'm definitely not in the mood to hear about the comet the next day at school, but of course it's all anyone can talk about. Nothing happens in Houston outside of the crazy shit coming from the Garrison, it’s all anyone talks about anyways, but with this? Something crashing down from space onto its very grounds? It’s practically a guarantee for complete domination over all conversation for the next week, or at least until the next big drama hits. As I stride down the crowded hall at 7:50am to get to my 8am class, I can already hear snippets of theories and speculations. 

“I heard that it was a training exercise gone wrong!” One boy whispers excitedly to his friend next to my locker as I shove my backpack inside, “Either that, or a bunch-a cadets took a ship for a joyride and it crashed!”

“That’s stupid, there’s no way, the academy doesn’t have any real ships.” The other boy scoffs in response, Kyndall or whatever his name was. I don't really know him all that well except our lockers happen to be next to each other this year.

“Will! Hey dude, did you hear about the asteroid?” I barely spare a glance over my shoulder towards Conner's voice, but it’s enough of a glance to take in the day’s aesthetic. He’s wearing glasses instead of contacts today, cuffed jeans and... is that hair gel? Oh yeah, he is definitely wearing hair gel to spike up the front of his brown hair, which usually flops just a little in front of his eyes. Another experimental look it seems.

Ever since I moved here in my sophomore year, when my parents got contracted to work at the Garrison, Conner’s been my best friend. He made it his personal mission to befriend me when I showed up on the first day of class, just some awkward new kid who wasn’t really keen on making new friends because fuck Texas, I don’t wanna be here . Frankly it’s his persistence and kindness that glued me to his side from that point on. We have a little friend group, mostly through the Cages and Creatures campaign he runs on the weekends that he thrust me into to get me to make more friends. Alleuriel is nice but she’s far too into anime and too eager to convert people to enjoying it as much as she does, but Grover and Jupiter are pretty cool. I don’t hang out with them often, only when I’m with Conner in all honesty; it’d be kind of weird to just hang out with them after last summer’s… adventures.

“Dude, the last thing I wanna hear about is that stupid thing right now.” I answer curtly, stuffing a bunch of Shakespeare plays and my notebooks for my day’s classes into my backpack.

“Did your parents say anything?” Conner leans on the locker next to mine with a persisting tone, cocking an eyebrow at me in a way that reads come on, you can tell me anything . 

I shut my locker door with a shake of my head and a resigned sigh, “No, they didn't mention anything about it.” All Mom had told me that morning was to have a good day at school, and that we’d talk more in the evening. Dad had already left for work, I think.

Conner grins at me wickedly, “Oh come on, you never wanna talk about Garrison stuff! It’s totally a training accident, isn’t it? They’re probably just trying to save face!”

“Yeah, I guess.” I quickly change mindset, setting my backpack down on the ground once I shove the books inside, “Did you do the calc homework yet? It’s stupid hard for some reason on part 13, I couldn’t figure it out and Mrs. Davis never o-jayed me back.” I yank my flannel off of my waist and pull it onto my shoulders. I’d tied around my waist for the bike-ride here, but the air conditioning of the building works a little too well.

“Hell no I didn’t do the calc homework, how could I when there was that whole thing last night!” Conner has one hand wrapped around his biology textbook pressed to his chest, and the other waves in circles animatedly. He’s an animated speaker, it’s easy to read exactly what he’s thinking because he displays it with everything he does.

“I don’t really care to hear about it.” I murmur in a last ditch attempt to drop the subject, pulling my backpack back onto my shoulders. 

But apparently, Conner really wants to talk to me about it. “But Will, listen, I heard from a reliable source that three trainees went missing last night, never showed up to bed at curfew! I think they either crashed a training jet, or got abducted by the aliens that were in that ‘comet’.” Conner counts on his fingers his list of theories before finishing with air quotes, pausing to peer at me with a flicker of russet across my face to gauge a reaction. Pfft. Aliens. Everyone always thinks it’s aliens. There’ve been like, seven studies about how if aliens near us existed they would’ve contacted us officially by now, so there’s no such thing. At least, not close enough in our vicinity.

I raise an eyebrow at him incredulously, “Is your reliable source Jake? You know he’s full of shit, right?”

Conner shakes his head as we press into the flow of the hallway, grinning at me with confidence, “Nope. Haymitch.”

I admit, I'm shocked. “ Haymitch told you? He never talks about his work at the Garrison!”

Conner nods at lightning speed, “He did! Some kid spilled his coffee in the hallway this morning and I heard him talking to his wife on the phone about it, not only were three cadets missing, but apparently there was-”

“Watch it!” In that moment Taylor, some jackass in my grade who doesn't know how to express himself, knocks into Conner as we walk by, deliberately slapping his textbook out of his hand. I stop in the hall as Conner bends to pick it up without even a blink.

“What’re you, twelve?” I shout at him, I wish I had something to throw at the back of head in retaliation, “Grow the fuck up, you piece of shit!” 

He doesn't turn or acknowledge me as he melts into the crowded hall and out of sight. I internally seethe as I turn to help Conner up. He’s gonna regret that later.

“Listen, I don’t care what Taylor’s issue is, don’t ever let him off the hook for treating you like this. He’s just gonna have to learn how to deal with his feelings for once in his life.” I grumble to Conner as he keeps his eyes down, hugging the textbook to his chest. I have a theory that the reason Taylor persistently bullies Conner like it’s the 2070s is because he secretly has a crush on him, but frankly I feel less like it’s a theory with each passing encounter. After all, a gay can easily spot someone going through a gay crisis, we’ve all been there.

“I know that’s what you think, but I’m telling you Taylor's just intimidated by how smart I am!" Conner replies with a grin. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Sure, and so humble, too. I know you’re ace, but you’re still a part of the alphabet soup, use your queerdar!” I joke with a lazy grin, eliciting a bright laugh from him. I jut my thumb to the right as the hall begins to empty as students head to their classes, “I’m gonna head to first, I’ll catch up with you at lunch.” I pat Conner on the arm in an amicable fashion as I split off and enter my first class.

Introduction to the Classics: Shakespeare is technically a junior/sophomore level English class, but this is my last year before I go off to university. I want to actually take classes I like rather than more AP’s to make myself look smarter to universities, especially since all anyone seems to care about is METS - Math, Engineering, Technology, and Science - anymore. This class is taught by Mr. Roads; he just got hired this year when Mrs. Pappas retired and he’s a shrewd hard-ass who thinks that since I’m the only senior in a sophomore/junior level class that I’m just too stupid to get into higher-level English courses, even though I already took them. I’m pretty sure he makes it his personal mission to try and make me look like an idiot as much as possible. I try not to let it get to me, since I really do enjoy reading the plays and stuff, but today I could tell when I walked in that he’s feeling even more like an asshole than usual.

“Since no one seems to have done the reading… Oh, Will, how nice of you to finally show up, have a seat, we’re taking a pop quiz on the reading you were supposed to do last night.” Mr. Roads immediately shoots me a dark look as I walk through the doorway, the students inside fumbling with varying noises of complaint. I glance up to check the clock on the wall, 7:57. Wow, he’s really out for it today, isn’t he? I take a seat by the window as he begins passing out the pop-quiz.

I did the reading the night before, thankfully before that crazy business with the comet and the purring - I really should not be thinking about that right now - and I’m super glad that I did as I finish the pop quiz pretty quickly. Who even does paper quizzes anymore? He comes around and picks them up after about five minutes, much to many in the class’s dismay, and setting them on his desk as he grabs the smartboard pen from the front of the classroom, booting up the machine.

“Take out your Hamlets, we're going to do some in-class reading.” He snaps with a sharp tone as he writes the act and scene on the board once it’s alive. I take out the play and open it to the place we were supposed to have left off for the reading the night before, and I can't help but feel excited. I love when we do in-class readings, because it’s a chance for me to zone out and day-dream. He almost never calls on me to read, at least he has ever since he figured out I can actually read old English out loud pretty well in comparison to most. In essence, he doesn’t get a chance for him to make a fool out of me, which is really a double win for us both.

I feel my gaze drifting out the window, but despite my better judgment it floats towards the desert sands beyond the highway, knowing the restricted area around the Garrison lies beyond. I feel a tug in my chest as soon as I see the hazy outline of the chain-link fence far in the distance, the twine string around my heart trembling as it aches and tugs towards the window. Of course I can’t daydream about the usual things - story ideas, creation of new lore and new pantheons, characters - because naturally my first thought fixes on last night’s events.

What could that mean, now that I’m hearing the purr of my dream lion in real life instead of in my dreams? That can’t be good, and that’s putting it mildly. Am I really going crazy? Am I finally snapping? I don’t feel crazy, but how would I know that I am? Crazy people don’t think they’re crazy, after all. I glance down when my table begins to rattle audibly and realize that it’s because I'm bouncing my leg on the table’s bar. I take a soft breath and will it to stop. Relax.

“Will, please read lines 75 to 85 to the class.” I snap back into focus as Mr. Roads’ barking voice calls my attention to the present, quickly looking down at my book from where I was staring out the window, thank God I’m on the right page. I read quickly to make it seem like I was paying attention as best as I can, since I totally wasn’t.
“‘... To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.’” I finish, looking up at Mr. Roads where he stands at the front of the class, one hand rested on his desk. I can’t help the slightly smug smile that spreads across my face. See, I was paying attention. Better luck next time, ass.

“So, Will, what do you think Hamlet is implying?” Mr. Roads begins with his usual, not quite a scowl but not quite a happy expression. Is he ever truly happy, though? I mean, with how he’s such an asshole most of the time I can’t imagine he’s feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside. Although, with everyone’s focus on science and shit, I bet he’s grown jaded with people not giving a shit, but haven’t I proven that I’m not like that? Wouldn’t he treat me better, if not at least decently with that knowledge? Well, he obviously hasn’t even spoken to people in his own department because he thinks I haven’t taken any harder classes, so maybe he’s just like that. Shit, right, Hamlet, implications-

“Oh uh… I assume it’s something like… it feels more special to be selected, like… out of everyone in the group, you’re the one that got chosen.” I stumble with the explanation, crossing my arms over my desk as Mr. Roads raises a curling eyebrow at me. What else could he be implying? This part of the act isn’t really the important part I’d think, but the whole thing is pretty loaded with meaning. Why don’t we ever talk about his constant suicidal thoughts and questioning of reality, especially as its tied to his father? Why is this part in particular relevant? Oh God, he’s probably gonna put it on a quiz, isn’t he?

“How eloquent to reword the last phrase as an answer.” Some chuckles echo in the class as Mr. Roads turns his back to the class to face the board, which he silences with a mere glance over his shoulder, “Can anyone else proffer anything with original thought?”

I feel my face grow hot, and grit my jaw. “Ass.” I breathe to myself, scowling at my book as I underline the phrase I just read. I write down ‘apparently important’ in the margins with spiky script, then more for my own personal benefit, ‘I’m sure this is important for some reason, since he made me read it, even if I don’t see it. Potential pop quiz question. Relevancy? In my Hamlet?’ 

Only then do I realize how quiet it is in the classroom. Suspiciously quiet. I look up from my play slowly to see Mr. Roads directly in front of me, his gaze is sharp, like a hawk's, peering down his nose at me.

“Mr. Lancaster, why don’t you take a walk?” He murmurs with a slick voice like oil poured on water, “And, perhaps, you should stop by Head Miller's office before you return.” He glowers down his nose at me with a curl in his lip and immediately my face burns hot, I can tell that my face is the same color as my hair. Quickly I shove Hamlet into my backpack and keep my gaze cast down in shame as the class erupts into a chorus of ‘ooh you/re in trouble’ only to be immediately silenced by Mr. Roads’ glare. Despite being the strictest teacher in terms of class conduct, everyone seems to have the grandest old time acting like a bunch of goons. I pick up my backpack and stalk out of the classroom as quickly as feasibly possible with the class’s eyes on my back. 

I had never been sent to the Principal's office before, and here I am, going for the second time in my whole life; second time this week, too. He just thinks that I'm not good enough to be anywhere else. He just wants to make sure I know that he knows. But what kind of fucking educator… 

I can’t help but grumble angrily under my breath as I trudge down the hall, my shoes making soft squeaks against the tile as I shove my hands into my pockets on my way to the Head's office. Stupid… that shit-head, all this because I whispered under my breath, what is this, thought policing? Is that what he’s doing now? Or was he just looking for an excuse after I showed him up by actually paying atten-

Will.

I freeze, turning around and looking down the hall… except it’s barren. As I gaze around ahead of me to see from where the voice came I see there's nothing, no one. The school hall is unusually silent, in fact.

Will.

I whirl around, gasping. The voice was right there , whispering in my ear, but again there's no one there. I’m just spinning in a circle, alone in the barren hall, like a crazy person.

"Who’s there? Who are you?" I call into the hall, fighting to keep my voice from shaking but nothing answers. Nothing, for a solid minute. 

That’s it. This is definitely it. I am crazy. I have snapped, that’s a voice, a real life imaginary voice talking to me. Well, not real life, because it’s imaginary… Fuck. I am actually going crazy . 

I shoulder my backpack and keep walking, albeit at a faster pace now. Maybe the school’s just haunted. Fucking hell, if this turns into some horror movie shit, I'm fucking dropping out. I'll go to the stupid space academy, I am not gonna be the first murder victim by some crazy ghost, haunting some crazy person-

Suddenly like a flash grenade a stream of white light crashes right into my eyes. I’m vaguely aware that I’m stumbling back when the images come, like the ocean tide crashing over me; a sanded path through the desert, under the fence, past towering mesas, the deep craggy cut of a ravine into the earth. A cave entrance, markings, glowing bright blue, ancient lions carved into the stone dancing among stars…

The light fades and darkness envelops my vision, only broken by the light of the golden-yellow eyes of a lion staring down from above me, penetrating me like they’re seeing into my very soul. I feel it, that purr in my chest, but it’s so powerful it feels like it’s rattling my bones; the purr from last night is like that of a kitten’s in comparison to this. 

The next thing I know I’m sitting on the floor of the empty hallway of my school; no yellow eyes, no glowing carvings of lions, and no caves.  

...Okay.  

I slowly rise to my feet, and I’m vaguely aware that my hands are shaking as I plant them on one of the walls of lockers lining the walls to steady myself. That’s the second time I've heard from this white lion outside of my dreams, technically counting when I heard it purring when the comet crashed last night.

This has got to mean something.

This is the first time that I've seen visions like these, too. My dreams aren’t like that, not at all, but that cave... it’s in the desert! I saw the path, almost as if the lion was showing it to me, it’s in that big stretch of desert that surrounds the Garrison, where nobody goes...

I have to go find that cave.

I look at the clock on the wall, 8:39. I need to haul if I wanted to get out before the bell for next period rings. I barely think, I just break into a dead sprint. My backpack jumps wildly on my back as I run towards the front doors of the school like I’m being chased and I glance back briefly, idly wondering at how much trouble I’m going to be in later. I’d not only not gone to the Head's office, but now I’m just up and leaving the school...

Sounds like a problem for later. Right now... I have to follow my gut. Something big is happening, something bigger than me, and I need to find out what. I can’t let this feeling persist anymore. 

I grab my bike from the rack just outside school, unlocking it and then peddling onto the street. There were a few cars driving by when I ran out, but now the road is empty. 

Alright. Now… how the hell am I supposed to find this cave based on nothing but the barest flash of some vision?

Oh man, I have seriously not thought this through.

My gaze follows the street curve, bent and broken in the concrete from disrepair, and floating beyond, to the desert lying just over the cusp of the hill on the far side of the road. The Garrison is that way, the chain-link fence is the very edge of its borders... I suppose that’s a good place to start.

I pedal onward, standing in the seat as I look beyond the broken concrete, blinking against the desert sands getting kicked up by the wind, when the strangest thing happens. When I blink, I can almost see the path I’m supposed to take, a white trail in the ground it’s lit by the Earth’s core beneath my feet.

Okay, that’s fucking freaky. 

Oh, I’m definitely crazy. 

But... I mean, I ought to use this weird path to help guide me to this cave. I’ve gone well past crazy now, might as well go all out. Fucking hell, I wonder what my therapist would say… You know, after they had a stroke.

I pedal onward, hopping the highway’s metal rail and racing down the sand covered rocky hill to the dust basin below that leads towards the outer edges of the Garrison. I only stop occasionally to walk on foot over a particularly craggy spot in the stone, or when the rise of a hill makes my calves scream. Before long, I arrive at the fence. 

It used to be electric, but no one has tried to break into the academy zone for several decades, so they haven’t felt pressured to fix it up; I know because of the amount of cadets who hop it to go to student house parties from my school. Luckily for me, that applies both ways.

I gaze beyond the fence at the desert, broken up by plateaus, craggy riverbeds and canyons, scattered and dotting the landscape. Alright, one problem at a time. How do I get through this fence? I glance up at the towering chainlink. It’s about 12 feet tall with curling barbed wire at the top, rusted but still sharp. Definitely not going over it, last thing I want is tetanus. This thing goes all the way around the Garrison property, so no going around it… So I gotta go through it or under it.

I dump my bike on the ground and kick the bottom of the fence experimentally for any weakness in the chain-link. I nearly topple when it gives away surprisingly easy to my left, and as I get down onto my knees I see that there’s a crevice dug into the sand, like a dingo or something dug a hole under the fence. Well then. Perfect.

I get down on my stomach and shimmy on the sand to slide under the fence. The chain links scratch the back of my neck, and as I crawl forward the chainlinks catch my backpack on its spokes and prevent me from pushing forward. I grumble angrily under my breath and maneuver to the side, attempting to unhitch my backpack but to no avail, it’s practically pinning me to the ground. I huff in frustration and shrug the straps off my shoulders, and once I’m free of its confines I squeeze through the hole, only then turning to wrest my backpack through. I tug and tug, and finally I find where it’s caught and untangle it from the rusty spokes. I glance back at my bike I left lying on the other side. It’s too big to fit under the fence. 

Fuck it, I’ll come back for it later. This… thing is taking full precedent right now.

I sigh and continue following my mind’s path on foot.

After walking for a few minutes, I pull the flannel off my shoulders, now sweating buckets as the Texas sun beats down on me. Sand kicks up into my eyes with the searing breeze, and I lift a hand to shield them as I gaze about the desert, following the white trail that flickers every time I blink. 

The longer I walk, the bigger the plateaus became, and more numerous. There isn’t a definite path, not from what I can see, and the desert actually seems relatively devoid of signs of human contact the further I go onto Garrison property. I think I’m definitely taking a path that’s less travelled, or at least not for some time. I trudge across the cracking earth, keeping my head down to avoid the sand that rises with the breeze. God, fuck the wind. Anywhere else on the planet the wind is a welcome, cooling thing, but in the fucking hell of the southwest it’s like Satan’s roasting fart. I fucking hate Texas. 

As I walk on, the cracked, dried earth melts away into rock, and when I look up I see a craggy ravine digging into the desert sand just in the distance, hiding in the shadow of a shallow mesa, and as I reach the lip I peer down at the ravine. It’s deep, cut from an ancient, long dried river that sanded down the sides into rocky outcroppings. I dig into the surface to look for a smooth way down, but there’s no path; I’ll have to slide down the loose rocks and buffeted sands in order to get to the bottom. I close my eyes to confirm with the weird white path in my head, it’s like I’m communing with the astral plane or some shit, as suspected, it leads directly down the sloped side to the ravine below. Alright then… let’s go. Cautiously I open my eyes and get low, skimming my fingertips in the rock as I slide down the gravelly side to the bottom. 

Near the bottom the rocks grow more solid and don’t give beneath my weight, leading me to practically fly down the ravine side with the pull of gravity. I stumble and desperately attempt to slow down and nearly smack into the opposite side of the ravine when I finally reach the base, but luckily, I grind to a halt just beforehand. I let out a ragged breath, a hand resting on the stone of the mesa ahead of me before then closing my eyes, turning my head side to side. The white trail leads me to the right, across the rock where the ravine grows deeper. I turn and follow. 

This light, my instincts, my gut, whatever, leads me deeper into the ravine and fortunately from down here I’m shielded from the beating sun, searing wind, and biting sand, the Texan trifecta of hell. I let out a relieved breath and run a hand through my hair, shaking the sand out as best as I can as I walk along when suddenly, the white trail behind my eyes veers to the left, off where the ravine dips farther down into the solid stone. I pause and peer down the slope and as my gaze locks on the deep, black hole below, I feel the purr, just like in my dreams, just like last night; the thread in my chest, the one that’s tied to this place, yanks me towards a hidden cave entrance nestled in this ravine. 

Oh yeah, this is it.

I shoulder my backpack as I stare down below, I can feel sweat has soaked into my olive t-shirt at my shoulders and down my spine in a gross, slick, waterslide. God, I fucking hate Texas. Slowly I pick my way down the steep drop to the cave below. If I wasn’t following this path in my head, I don’t think I would’ve been able to find this place. It’s pretty well hidden. The track of the journey had kept me preoccupied, but now that I’ve arrived at my destination the anxiety returns. I try to ignore how badly I'm shaking as I descend down into the darkness, swallowing the lump in my throat as I skid down just before the mouth of the cave. It’s big enough to fit three, four people across. Now's not the time to think, only to follow. Don’t overthink it. This place may just have the answers I’m looking for. 

The cave is dark and cavernous, and it feels strangely cool in comparison to the beating Texas heat outside. I wipe the sweat from my brow with a slightly relieved huff as my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, my feet treading carefully across the surprisingly smooth rock floor. I rest my hand against the chilled wall, the rocky edges growing defined in the backlight of the sun peering within from outside. This was the part with the glowing lion runes, bright blue in the walls, but as I wipe at the cave grime, I see nothing like them. It looks like an ordinary cave, with ordinary cave walls… not that I’ve been in enough caves to know, but I don’t see anything particularly magic or anything about it. Fucking hell, where are they? The vision seemed to be accurate in leading me to this place, why wouldn’t it have the glowing-

I hear the voices that echo into the cave from the ravine outside. “I think it’s here!” 

Immediate ice seizes my veins as I whirl around as the voice trails downward to me and for a split second I wonder if Mr. Roads somehow knew that I had evaded the Head's wrath and had come to hunt me down himself to drag me back for judgment.

“You sure this is the right place, Pidge?” Another voice, lower than the first, pipes up, and I can see their shadows as they approach the mouth of the cave. At least 3 other people, maybe more. Fuck, what if they’re Garrison officials? Should I say something? Should I hide? How did they find this cave?

“Yeah, this is it. You’ll be able to tell by the lion carv-” Before I can formulate a plan shadows enter, casting me in darkness. As soon as the first person stumbles in, someone of slight build, followed by someone of much larger build, they freeze; I can’t distinguish their features with the back-lighting from outside the cave but I can feel their gaze on me as three more shadows mingle behind them, pressing within right as the slighter built shadow smacks their chests for their attention. Well, shit. They’ve seen me now.

A figure, behind the first two to stumble in, steps between them and barks at me in an accusatory, authoritative tone, “Who are you? How did you get here?” His voice husky and full of suspicion, I recognize the last voice that spoke about the lion, and as he steps threateningly deeper into the cave I can distinguish his features. 

I can practically smell the brooding on this fellow, his dark black hair is cut with fringed bangs hanging in the front and longer hair curling around the base of his neck. Frankly, it looks straight up like a mullet, a hairstyle that was popular in the 2090’s but died pretty quick because they’re horrendous… but it strangely is becoming of this stranger. No way, that should definitely not be possible. But here it is. Despite the darkness of the cave, the fairness of his skin is unmistakable, he must not be from around here, like me, with skin like that, he’s probably sunburnt from being outside for five minutes. His eyes are dark, and they shine in the shadows of the cave like a wolf's, glinting and sharp like the edge of a knife. He’s wearing this… abhorrent red jacket, with a popped white collar and a yellow stripe across his chest, and frankly if I wasn’t stressed about the situation I would’ve definitely mocked the fuck out of it. That jacket is a crime against humanity, what is that . He has a utility belt strapped to his waist that has two small satchels strapped on his waist but it’s too big for him, it hangs on the edge of his black jeans at a jilted angle. And, of course, black and red boots to pull the horrible look together, like he purposefully grouped the clothes together that way. He slowly approaches me with one of his hands, clad in fucking fingerless gloves, oh yeah he’s definitely not from around here , reaches behind his back. 

Oh shit. I sure hope he doesn’t have a taser on him.

“Uh... Yeah, I can explain!” I answer anxiously, holding my hands up in surrender and taking an intimidated step back. 

“Yeah, you better start talking quick or else…! Uh… Or else!” A new voice speaks, I strain my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cave while watching the rest of the new arrivals but they aren’t coming forward into the light, I can’t see who they are just yet. Whoever this person is, his voice is whinier than Mr. Broody Wonder here, and it puts me in a less intimidated spot than I was two seconds ago.

I want to be cautious, but if these people found this cave… looking for something about lions … they might have some insight into what the ever-living fuck is going on around here. Maybe they were brought here by what brought me? This boy with disastrous fashion taste is definitely no Garrison official, he even looks like he’s my age. Alright, so no danger of getting turned in… yet. Come on, Will. Be up front. Be honest. “...Okay, listen,” I start with my hands raised in surrender, fighting to keep my breathing steady, “I know this sounds crazy, but I had this dream… er, multiple dreams, actually…”

“Dreams?” A new voice speaks, it’s deep and gentle like that of a mountain’s as another of the five steps forward into the light, and I can finally see his face. He seems older than the first person, and he’s taller than all the others in the entourage. The new speaker is Asian in descent, with an undercut and a patch of white hair in the front that hangs just over his slanted eyes. A dark, old looking scar cuts across the bridge of his nose, which would have been an intimidating look if his grey eyes weren’t so... warm, surprisingly friendly. He’s well built, clad in black, and definitely looks like a Garrison official as no normal person holds their shoulders in such a way, that’s an obvious militant stance that’s wide and commanding yet still and assertive. Glinting in the light, his right arm catches my eye; it’s black, but shiny instead of clothed like his other arm, yet it’s not because of the clothes he wears. The long sleeved shirt stops at the shoulder on his right side side, fringed like it was ripped off, which is where I see the glinting metal begin, shining like a mirror reflecting the cast sunlight. It’s a prosthetic, yet it’s one unlike I’d ever seen as I inspect it closer. It’s so complex and intricate, it looks like any normal arm except for its metallic edges. Prosthetics are certainly incredibly real looking now a days, but this one has curves like natural muscles and metal instead of plastic; it’s surprisingly realistic even though it appears to be made of something like iron, like he spray painted his real arm to make it look like that. I suppose it could be an intricate tattoo… 

His gray gaze flickers to the side as he steps closer, holding out a hand out a bit in front of the one who spoke first, like he’s holding him back. The brooding one with the awful clothes backs down a little, but his hand is still out of sight behind his back as the other man’s stormy eyes focus back on me. 

“Yes. Dreams.” I respond with uncertainty, my eyebrows furrowing as I point to the walls of the cave, “These... I don’t know, okay, this sounds absolutely fucking crazy but I have had dreams about a lion, you see, and when that asteroid, comet thing crashed yesterday, I started to… hear it… while I was awake.” The gathered cluster of strangers stare at me, I can feel their judgement, and I find my voice rising in anxiety, “I got another one today, only about twenty minutes ago, I swear it’s true! I’m not crazy! I just think that maybe the lion wanted me to come to this place, it showed me-” I balk when I turn my gaze back to the scarred soldier, whose grey eyes seem to glimmer in understanding… at least understanding how crazy I sound. Come to think of it… I think recognize him from somewhere. 

Fuck, I sound absolutely out of my fucking mind.

“What’s your name?” The man asks, stepping closer further into the cave. I can’t manage to keep my eyes off the scar over the bridge of his nose. That’s familiar. Definitely familiar.

“I'm Will Lancaster.” I answer tentatively before internally swearing, “-I mean… just Will.” Shit, I should’ve just said my first name. What if they rat me out to someone… or worse, they know my last name?  

Another new face stepped closer, appearing in the light. He’s larger than the others in all senses of the word, wide and strong with an orange ribbon tied around his forehead that’s slightly hidden under his dark brown hair, almost black. Yet, surprisingly his large stature is in perfect sync with the round, friendly face he wears with gentle eyes to match, like he’s a living teddy bear. His skin is like the bark of a pine tree, he has a flat and wide nose that accentuates the strength in his jaw, and he’s wearing a yellow-orange henley and a brown vest with cargo pants; that’s when I notice that he is holding some sort of makeshift device that’s dinging softly, yet incessantly, like a polite microwave timer. His voice, excited and amicable, snaps me back to the present moment, “Lancaster? Like Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster? You must be their son, they talk about you all the time!” 

Goddamnit… fuck me. 

“... So you’re all from the Garrison?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, trying to keep my voice level.

The headband boy nods, rather enthusiastically, actually, before he pauses and flickers his gaze over to the scarred man and the brooding wonder and amending his assurance, “Well, actually… I mean, technically it’s just me, Pidge, and Lance.” He juts his thumb to the two faceless people behind him, who still have yet to step into the light so I cannot see their features.

I sure hope my parent’s stories aren’t about my apparent psychosis and crazy dreams, cause that’s all I seem to talk to them about lately.

“Okay, why don’t we do a proper introduction.” The scarred man holds out his hands like he’s mediating a debate, “This is Hunk,” The scarred man points to the boy with the headband, who waves with a wide grin that’s so friendly I can’t help but wave back, “Pidge,” He points to one hasn’t spoken yet, and once he’s referenced I can see him peeking out from behind the big guy, Hunk. He’s about a head shorter than me with wild brown hair that curls in crazy angles just above his shoulders like he cut it himself with round glasses that perch out of place on his nose over bright, inquisitive hazel-amber eyes that glimmer in the minimal sun that shines in the cave. He has a large brown backpack on his back that appears to be weighed down by something substantial, accompanied by a green and white hoodie and the biggest, baggiest cargo shorts I’ve ever seen. In his arms he carries something attached to a cord that connected to the dinging device that Hunk’s holding. 

“This is Keith, and Lance.” The scarred man points to the suspicious, broody guy, with the horrible jacket and husky voice, who seemed now relaxed enough to cross his arms instead of hold a hand behind his back. The other, the final one that I haven’t seen, waves as he strides fully into the cave with his gaze on the walls, like he’s looking for something with his hands firmly shoved into his pockets. I’m pretty sure he’s Latino or Hispanic as his skin is a deep chestnut that’s sunkissed along the bridge of his nose and back of his neck; he has a lithe swimmer's body and messy brown hair, yet he has such bright blue eyes that they glimmer like stars and highlight his darker complexion. I raise an eyebrow at him as the scarred man finally juts a thumb at himself, “And I’m Shiro.”

Oh. My. God.

Wait, what?

My eyes flying wide as I stare at the scar across the bridge of his nose, recognition immediately starts clicking into place, “You’re Shiro? The Shiro? Like, the Shiro who was a part of the Kerberos mission? The one that…” I trail off as Shiro nods, solemnly, which honestly raises more questions than answers. I stumble on my words as I shake my head in disbelief, “My parents told me you were dead!” I proclaim, “I… I went to your funeral and everything!” I find myself stammering I try to wrap my head around this new information. How the fuck can he be alive, what with his whole spacecraft going missing in the outer reaches of the solar system? 

I hadn’t wanted to go to his funeral but Shiro was a big deal to my parents because he was the youngest something or another to be sent on serious missions or something, but what I’m certain of is that he’s the reason why we moved to Texas. The Garrison hired my parents as additional support to the staff because of the Kerberos tragedy, where the whole rocketship just up and vanished off the face of the galaxy on a mission to Pluto’s moon, Kerberos. I wanted to support my parents, as they were really upset about his death, so I donned a suit and went with them to the service. It was nice, I remember that I sobbed rather hard afterwards and thought for about a day that I wanted to be an explorer just like Shiro that’s how much it touched me. But that dream quickly died because I remembered I hated the idea of going to space: too much powerlessness and nothingness. That I can get on Earth just fine.

Shiro eyes say he has more questions than anything else but he simply states, “It’s a long story.” Yeah no shit.

I turn to look at the others, my heart falling in my chest, “So... Wait, so y’all didn’t have dreams of this place? Why are you here, then, how did you find it? I heard you talking about lions.”

Lance looks away from the walls of the cave to furrow his eyebrows at me, swinging his arms out wide with what looks like a derisive look, “Um, yeah, no, we were following Hunk and Pidge’s super weapon finder thing, not crazy lion dreams.” He gestures with his hands over to Hunk and Pidge, who were now messing with their dinging device, I think to try and shut it up. I recognize his voice now, it was the one who threatened me after Keith when they first came into the cave. 

Shiro’s eyes flicker over at him with a reprimanding tone, “Lance.”

“I’m not crazy!” I snap back at him, curling my lip, “It’s true! The white lion brought me here, so if it’s not true for you, then how did you find this cave? I didn’t think anyone could find it unless they were looking for it, like I was, cause I don’t know if you noticed but it’s pretty well hidden!" 

Lance has a comfortable looking blue, green, and white jean jacket on, and a white shirt underneath, which he fished in the pockets of as if looking for a fuck to give. I can already tell that I am not gonna like him.

The suspicious one, Keith, Shiro had called him, answers me in a far more amicable tone than when he first addressed me, as in not straight up aggressive but more frustrated, “ White lion? Did you say white lion?” 

I nod with furrowed eyebrows as he huffs, shaking his head a little in response, “There are carvings out here that tell the story of a blue lion… not a white one.” 

I blink, tilting my head to the side as I regard the other, “... You still haven’t answered my question as to what brought you here.” 

Shiro looks over at Keith with an affirming look, prompting the brooding wonder to speak with a matter of fact tone, “There were all kinds of anomalies generating a bunch of energy that triangulated into this area. Whatever’s doing it is something with a wild energy signature that isn’t found on Earth. The carvings… They told of a day when something would arrive. I couldn’t figure out what it was until the day came last night. Turns out it was Shiro.” Keith crosses his arms over his chest as he jabs a thumb at Hunk as he loudly twists a knob on his device, “I thought it was connected to the energy signatures, so we were tracking that energy with Hunk’s device and it brought us here." 

Hunk holds up his dinging device with a proud grin right as he and Pidge seem to turn the right switch and the dinging ceases.

Shiro nods in agreement, “Keith did a lot of the foot work for us. Without his triangulation and analysis I don’t think we would’ve been able to find it so quickly.” I raise an eyebrow as Shiro gazed over fondly at Keith, who meets his gaze with softness I didn’t think was possible for such a sharp gaze. I can tell that they’ve known each other for a while, if not related in some way. They don’t look like they’re siblings, and I didn’t think Shiro had a brother, and I don’t remember seeing this kid at the funeral. I think I would’ve noticed someone with his appalling fashion sense and dark demeanor…

Wait a minute, Shiro? Shiro was the one who arrived last night?

“Wait a second, what? What do you mean last night was Shiro’s arrival?” I mirror my thoughts as I turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He merely meets my gaze evenly, something flickering behind his stormy gaze that I can’t decipher. In my mind’s eye I remember it, the purr, the falling comet as it crashes just beyond my line of sight far behind the shadowy mesas of the Garrison beyond. It all comes clicking into place. 

“It wasn’t a comet last night. It was you.” I ask rhetorically, my hands fixing themselves on my backpack straps. Shiro nods in response. I frown, biting my lip as the burning question slides onto my tongue, and finally I meet his gaze, “How did you get here? And what happened to you and your team on Kerberos? Since you’re… you know… not dead.”

Shiro pauses, his eyebrows drawing together as he begins with a firm, steady tone, “It’s still a bit hazy, but I remember we got… captured.” Shiro’s gaze looks guarded, shrouded in uncertainty; he seems relatively easy to read, but I can’t tell if it’s veritable. 

I watch him with a cautious expression, “What? Captured? By who?”

Shiro frowns as he crosses his arms, speaking in a hushed voice “The Galra.” 

I stare at him with complete lack of comprehension. Shiro begins to explain in a tentative tone, like he’s afraid of being overheard, “They’re aliens that are seeking to conquer the entire universe… and they are getting close to succeeding.” 

Um. 

WHAT? 

Mentally, I’m completely hitched on aliens that are conquering the entire universe. What sort of goddamn Sci-Fi bullshit is this? Is he fucking with me right now?

I suppose it’s just about as crazy as following a lion into the desert because it sent you some crazy visions and made you… I don’t know, feel things? So I suppose this isn’t completely out of left field… but I didn’t think that fucking aliens were on the platter of shit to deal with-

I can’t help how my eyes widen as Shiro continues, his troubled gaze downward to the cave floor, “... I somehow escaped, and all I know was that I had to get here and find a weapon, something called Voltron.” 

Shiro’s expression looks to be one of genuine confusion, yet despite how I’m quite literally reeling something in my memory clicks at the word. My entire core shakes as I’m assaulted by the purr from within me, for the third time in the last twenty/four hours; I don’t trust myself to speak any louder than a whisper, “... Voltron?”

Shiro pauses at my tone, blinking with a raised eyebrow, “You know of it?” 

The purr is so loud, so unceasing, it feels like it’s literally shaking my skeleton like it’s on vibrate. I glance around at the five strangers in the cave, but they don’t appear to notice anything’s amiss, at least beyond the whole crazy world rocking idea that there are real life aliens who are trying to conquer the universe . Nonetheless, I can’t believe that they can’t hear it, it’s so damn loud. Shiro watches me curiously as I rest my hand over my heart. 

“I... I don’t know.” I don’t bother bringing it up, no reason for them to think that I’m any more crazy than they probably already do, “But I’ve heard that word before. In my dreams, I think.” 

Shiro regards me with a look I wasn’t expecting, something caught between something tender and worried. I think now I can pinpoint exactly what Shiro's demeanor reminds me of; he’s kind of parental, despite his grizzled appearance. Seems charismatic, explains why he was so popular at the Garrison.

“Whoa.” Lance whispers in the corner. I blink past Shiro as Lance brushes the dust off the walls, peering at the stone inquisitively.

“Those were the lion carvings I was telling you about.” Keith profers with a shrouded glance over his shoulder at the other. I can see now from the grime wiped clean with Lance’s hand there is a deep set of carvings engraved into the stone in some sort of pattern I cannot discern.

As soon as Lance’s hand leaves the naked wall a sudden, bright blue light illuminates the cave, shining so brightly that the darkness is completely eradicated. The light originates from the very stone, deep within carvings that I never would have seen without the light; there are so many, carvings of lions traveling in packs of six, racing with powerful strides across fields of stars and through rivers and streams, leaping over entire planets made of water. I take a step back from the wall, and our surprise echoes in the cave as we inadvertently congregate in a circle. I bump into Shiro, who rests a hand on my shoulder as if to steady me.

“They’ve never done that before.” Keith gasps from my right. His eyes, almost deep blue or violet in the electric blue light of the carvings, are wide in shock. Before I can question what do you mean, before what, the cave suddenly began to shake and rumble, the ground unsettling beneath our feet

I let out a short breath, “Okay, just for the record to show I’m not crazy, I saw this shit in my dream!”

Suddenly the stone floor erupts in the same blue light as the carvings, the jagged light carving a circle around where we stand, then, without warning, the stone earth crumbles beneath our very feet.

I yell and attempt to scramble for a hold as I slip and fall into the hole in the earth, gaining no purchase on the surprisingly slippery rock. Water splashes onto me as we drop, crashing into one another as we slide into a narrow, watery tunnel that we’re all descending through with varying cries of surprise and fear. I bump against a slope, the fall turning into a sort of water slide that splashes me with cold water from all sides and soaking into my clothes.

Yep, definitely not sweating anymore. 

We slide down this natural water slide of a tunnel, fortunately the stone is smoothed otherwise it would’ve been incredibly painful to bump and jostle along a rough surface, until it suddenly spits us out into a wider space and, of course, into more water. It’s almost a pond, it’s no more than ankle deep, like a rather large puddle. I twist and skid just out of the entryway to the right hand side, and good thing too as the rest of the party slide behind me and fall into a jumbled heap beneath the mouth of the tunnel with varying cries of pain and groans. 

I shake my head, water clings to the strands at awkward angles as I feel my backpack sliding down my shoulders by strained, soaked straps. My heart rate spikes. Fuck, my textbooks! I sit up in the sopping wet water and quickly toss my backpack out of the water, sending it skidding away like a skipping stone. Hopefully they escaped any sort of permanent damage. I frown at my feet as the chilled water soaks into the cloth of my dark green shoes, internally I sigh. I’m utterly drenched. There's nothing worse than wet socks.

I can officially say this is the worst outing I’ve ever endeavored upon.

Lance sits up in the water beside me, resting on his knees with his feet beneath him as his gaze suddenly snaps to stare behind me. His mouth hangs agape, and after a brief beat he whispers in quiet shock, “... Whoa.”

I turn to follow his gaze and I’m met with the golden-yellow eyes of a massive mechanical lion.

It’s at least three to four stories tall with claws and teeth as large as a lamp post, barrel-chested and about as wide as a classroom. It’s covered in thick, metal plating that’s as blue as the Mediterranean, unmarred and unscarred with time, it almost looks like it got a fresh paint job this morning it’s so pristine. It’s sitting in a truly catlike pose with its tail curled around its front paws, yet what’s surprisingly most interesting about it is that it’s surrounded by something I've never seen before; it looks to be a dome-shaped barrier, like a mega-huge golf ball encased around it glowing the same brilliant, bright blue like the light of the carvings in the cave. 

I let out a breath, amazed. Just one of its claws is as big and long as a car at the least, and its design is so intricate! I can see the structure beneath the metal plated exterior, pistones as large as steel beams that support skyscrapers, cogs the size of a garage door, and just like Shiro’s prosthetic it curves like real muscle and sinew. There is some symbol etched into a plate on its shoulder much like a pauldron that reminds me of a sergeant’s medal; it’s simplistic, winged, yet unlike any sort of medallion or sigil I’ve ever seen. 

“Is this it?” Pidge speaks up beside me, stumbling to his feet as water drips from his hair and sliding down his round, circular glasses that reflect the blue light of the barrier encompassing the lion, “Is this the Voltron?”

“It must be.” Shiro answers, his gaze affixed in awe on the lion. 

Keith rises from his feet quickly, water trickling from the dark hair that hangs in front of his eyes as he immediately strides towards it without hesitation, murmuring thoughtfully in a manner more like he’s speaking to himself, “This must be what's creating all this crazy energy out here.” I stand as well, water squelching in my shoes as I pick up my backpack from the safer, drier ground.

“It looks like there’s a force-field around it.” Keith continues, his gaze fixed up at the yellow gaze of the mechanical lion as he strides ahead of us. I turn and follow him, and idly I begin to wonder just how he fits into this mixed up group. Hunk had said only he, Pidge, and Lance were cadets, and Shiro’s like the symbol of the Garrison...  but him? He seems to be what my father would call “insubordinate”; he doesn’t seem like the type to want to follow the rules, and he definitely doesn’t appear to be disciplined, at least not like Shiro is. Well, in all fairness the cadet trio don’t seem all that disciplined either, and he’s also so broody it’s almost stereotypical, he can’t not be doing that on purpose. I’m sure I’ll figure it out when I can get a better read on him. If I can get a better read.

“Does anyone else get the feeling that it’s staring at them?” I turn to see Lance strafing from side to side, his eyes glued to the gaze of the mechanical lion with a look like a cat that’s spotted the source of a red dot on the light. 

“Uh… no?” Shiro answers with a confused gaze, watching Lance as he walks back and forth with a raised eyebrow. I can’t help but chuckle to myself. And apparently, I’m the crazy person.

“Yeah, the eyes are totally following me.” Lance says as he ducks from one side to the other, leaning from one hip to the other like he’s stretching.

“I wonder how we get through this.” I turn to Keith as he murmurs softly, stopping just before the force-field and laying his hands along its surface. It wavers like a heat vision but holds firm, its form surprisingly substantial despite the hazy movement under his hand. I stand beside him and do the same, and immediately I can feel the power coursing within. It’s like electricity running just beneath the surface, but stronger; a lightning storm trapped between two pieces of flexible, watery glass. 

“Maybe you just have to knock?” Lance shrugs, as if this should be obvious. He strides up next to me, reaching out a hand and without hesitation he raps twice on the barrier before I can think to say hey maybe we shouldn’t do that. With a sudden pulse, we all take a startled step back as a ripple waves away from the place where Lance touched and the barrier falls with it, piece by piece, til it vanishes, a massive halo effect from a mere touch. Blue smoke traces Lance's hand as he pulls away, yet he doesn’t seem hurt, it’s like some sort of faerie light that briefly ghosts his hand before it fades. Suddenly, an unseen force rattles the cave and drives wind through us like we’re on a high-standing cliff, and I find us all taking a step back with mixed expressions of fear as the ground pulses around the lion, glowing so bright blue for a split moment that it casts the rest of the cave in darkness. 

Just like before, a vision washes over me with a blast of turquoise light.

There are more lions, five others as well as this one: this blue lion, a red lion, a green lion, a yellow lion, a black lion, and a white lion. They fly in the sky with trails of the color on their backs behind them before they interlock together in a stream of mechanics like nothing I’ve ever seen before. A massive, metal robot man stands in their place once all stills, each of the lions seeming to make up a piece of its body: the red and green lions as the right and left arms respectfully, the blue and yellow as the right and left legs, the white lion as the chest and the black as the head. Its figure seeming to dance among the stars as it produces a longsword from the maw of the red lion that composes its right arm and as it swings it through the cosmos a potent pulse that waves outwards is almost tangible, I can feel the power blasting me in the face, through time and space itself. Its glowing yellow eyes gleam as it swings the sword with a practiced slice right as an unheard voice echoes in my being, my thoughts grow completely still as its name forms on my tongue: Voltron.

As suddenly as it came, the vision is over. I’m back, standing in the cavern and staring up at the mechanical blue lion in vague, shadowy darkness.

“Whoa.” We all whisper in unison. I turn to look at the congregation to see a matched bewildered expression on all of their faces. 

Lance flickers his eyes to either side at each of us with a slack jaw, “Uh, did everyone just see that?!” 

They saw the vision too. I’m not alone. 

Thank God, maybe I’m not that fucking crazy.

“Voltron is a robot!” Hunk cries out, clenching his fists in front of him as his voice crackles in excitement, “Voltron is a huge, awesome robot!”

“And this thing is only one part of it!” Pidge speaks up next, his hands falling to his sides as he scrunches his nose to push up his glasses to better peer up at the lion, “I wonder where the rest of them are.” 

“This is what they’re looking for.” Shiro speaks in an even tone, his gaze is locked on the lion with recognition and a defined light of purpose burning within.

Keith’s broody demeanor seems to have fallen; he seems much like a young boy staring up at a skyscraper for the first time as he murmurs, “Incredible.”

Suddenly, a loud purr shakes the cavern as we in junction let out very manly shrieks. I take a step back as the lion’s eyes suddenly flare to life, glowing just like the lion’s eyes in my dreams.

It moves.

We all stumble backwards as the lion shifts, rising first to its four feet before crouching down to face us, its yellow eyes illuminate the dark cave as it opens its massive jaws, the inside of its mouth is as big as a foyer. With a hiss of steam a wide ramp inside is lowered from between the jutting canines of the lion’s mouth, right where the tongue would be. As suddenly as it moved, the lion freezes in this new position, yet the golden light in its eyes remain as bright as before, if not brighter. 

… I think it wants us to go inside.

I blink in surprise when all grows still, and as I gauge the status of the others I see that Lance hasn’t move throughout this exchange, his eyes are hyper fixated to the lion. He glances over at me when he feels my gaze, his eyebrows raising in curiosity before he suddenly smirks broadly like a mischievous imp. Without a word he jogs up the ramp. 

“Um, Lance? Maybe we should think about this..!” Hunk calls after Lance but it’s futile, he’s already disappeared behind the lion’s teeth. The others quickly follow suit after him, and as I walk up to the ramp and I can’t help but hesitate. I stare into the lion's eyes, the bold light from within with a furrowed brow. I don’t think this is the lion from my dreams. This one’s blue, but the one in my dreams, although a literal lion, is white. Fucking hell, this is leading to a hell of a lot more questions than answers. My chest thrums for a mere moment like a second heartbeat just as I step aboard the ramp, but as I pause it vanishes like it never happened. Just to remind me that I am the crazy one here, I guess. 

This really is just a whole lump of Sci-Fi bullshit, isn’t it? Jesus Christ. What is this thing?

As I go up the ramp into the lion's mouth I spot an open doorway on the left side of its mouth at the very back, next to what looks like a massive turbine at the back of the lion's throat. Inside the door are stairs, spiraling upward with deep blue glowing within the metal beneath and along the sides of the metal walls, flickering strips of power that maybe fuel the lion. Maybe, because how the fuck am I to know how this thing operates? I follow the blue, glowing stairs up, and when it ends it spills out into some sort of control room where the others have gathered. Lance is sitting in the pilot’s seat, apparently only room for one, while the rest crowd around it to examine the three panels, two on each side and one in front, that look like big sheets of glass with the smooth, black face like the holographic edge of a phone. Out the front wall and the sides are thick panels of glass, showing the outside world through the eyes of the lion. It really looks like an alien spaceship in here. It can’t be man-made, after all, this is far more advanced than anything I've even heard of, I don’t see a steering wheel, or petals, or gauges or whatever the fuck-

“Hey, just to point out, so we’re all clear, we are inside of a futuristic, alien cat head right now.” Hunk states with an anxious voice, waving his fingers even as the others pay him no heed, instead regarding the smooth black panels on either side of Lance. They have strange markings beneath them that I don't understand, it must be an alien language and alphabet I've never seen before, but as I watch them I notice they’re not as still as I thought they were; they flicker and pulse like a computer on sleep mode. I stare ahead at the cavern walls through the lion's eyes, so many questions buzzing in my head that I can barely think straight when Lance suddenly snaps up like he just violently woke up from a dream.

“Whoa, did you guys hear that?!” He exclaims with a mixture of excitement and nerves. 

“Hear what?” Keith asks with a raised eyebrow. 

Lance faces forward to regard the panel before him with a pensive, confused expression, “I think it’s talking to me.” He stares at the panel before him, resting a hand on the arms of the chair. With a sudden jump, two bars snap upwards, the others have to step back to avoid getting struck as they rise just at Lance’s side. They remind me of the controls of a bulldozer yet sleeker, made of the same ocean blue as the rest of the metal in the interior. Lance peers down at them with an expression of wonder, resting his hands on grips before his fingers slowly tighten around them.

I swallow as I eye Lance’s hands clamped around the controls, “And uh… what’s it saying?”

Lance isn’t listening to me in the slightest. He leans forward and examines the panel when immediately the panel lights up with a dull hum, illustrating highlighted buttons along its surface that leap out like a small holographic display. I stare with wide eyes as the other two panels on the left and right burst to life as well, flickering with symbols I don’t understand but are beginning to change before my eyes, like someone’s swiping through system preferences. Before any of us can protest Lance presses a couple of these buttons and with a jolt the lion suddenly moves beneath us, rising to its feet and lifting its snout with a roar like thunder. The others and I shriek in surprise and we desperately cling to Lance’s seat from all sides for purchase to keep us from falling, I grab the closest thing to me, which happens to be Hunk’s arm, as I try not to fall over. 

Lance smirks broadly, like he wanted and expected that to happen. “Alright, now let’s try this.” He places his hands back into the control bars and presses them forward, and with a sudden surge we all cry out as the lion springs forward. It crashes through the solid stone walls of the cavern like they’re merely pebbles to be shoved aside and breaks out into open daylight. 

I cover my eyes as the searing sunlight blinds me, struggling to stay balanced and upright as I feel the lion soaring through the hole it, Lance, just made at a speed I can’t even begin to accurately describe. Shiro and Hunk pressed against my sides hold me steady, but I still grip Hunk like a lifeline.

Lance moves with purpose and the lion follows with a burst of power beneath our feet as it turns to do an upside-down loop, flying at such speeds that only fighter jets should go. I lose my grip and my heart leaps into my throat with a yelp, but before I tumble back and probably fall down the stairs Shiro's hand quickly lashes out, grabbing my wrist tightly. He pulls me back up, and places my hands onto Lance’s seat as I catch my breath, and before I can thank him Lance makes the lion do another awful loop in the sky.

“You’re... the worst pilot... ever!” Keith yells over the din of our collective cries of terror, struggling to not fall over with every movement Lance compels the lion to make. I suck in breath, realizing that I’ve been screaming this whole time only to realize that I can’t yell any longer, I’m on some wild, completely unsafe roller coaster and now I’m all out of air. 

Lance finally lands onto the earth but he keeps pressed against the lion's controls, causing it to sprint across the desert sands like a cheetah pursuing prey. He glances aside at us with a wild grin, “Isn't this awesome!?”

Hunk is nearly in tears, clinging to the side of Lance's seat with an expression that’s positively green, “Make it stop, make it stop!”  

Oh God, please don’t throw up.

“I’m not making it do anything, it’s like it’s on autopilot!” Lance cries out excitedly, which honestly inspires the exact opposite of confidence as the lion shudders beneath us, shaking itself like a dog shaking its coat after racing through a grassy field for the first time in weeks. It pounces on the earth, almost like it’s about to leap over a ravine, but instead it flies up into the sky with a violent burst of thrusters that I can feel in its paws, vibrating the floor of the cabin. 

Keith knocks into me as we attempt to not fall over in the head of this alien lion, and I grab the back of his ugly ass jacket so he doesn’t knock me over or go sailing down the stairs, holding him partially against me and partially against the seat. He doesn’t seem to care, leaning over to yell at Lance, “Where are you going?!”

“Did you not just hear me? I just said it’s on autopilot!” Lance shouts back, clutching the controls with a tight jaw as the sky grows darker, like the middle of the morning was turning into dusk. Wait… it’s not the sky growing darker. We’re leaving the sky behind.  

Oh fuck. We’re going into space. 

“We’re leaving the atmosphere! Lance, what the hell are you doing?!” I shout once I have the air, my knuckles are white and hurting from how hard I’m gripping the back of his chair as it’s the only thing keeping me from flying into the mouth of the lion and probably into the oblivion beyond it. 

“It says that there’s an alien ship approaching Earth!” Lance cries suddenly, his gaze is incredibly focused and determined but it’s somewhere else, somewhere that isn’t on this planet, “I think we have to stop it!”

“Excuse me, but what?!” I’m one moment of peace away from throttling some sense into Lance. He sounds like he’s the one that’s gone crazy! How can he hear the lion speaking to him? How does the lion know that someone’s coming? And by someone I mean a fucking alien ship. 

“What did it say, exactly?!” Pidge asks incredulously, giving Lance a doubtful look over his glasses through the jostling. 

Lance huffs indignantly, flickering his gaze from Pidge to his controls, “Well it’s not like words exactly, it’s like it’s feeding ideas into my brain! Kind of.” He points to his skull, as if to demonstrate, and looks back out the lion's gaze to watch the sky give away. 

I feel a flicker of recognition from deep in my chest, something tight settling over my throat as I answer in a low voice,  “It’s feelings, images… like you’ve done this before in a hazy dream but don’t remember until it reminds you.” I can feel the gaze of the others on me even as Lance nods, waving his hand at me over his shoulder, “Yeah, exactly!”

Hunk interrupts, biting his lip as he seems to be sweating, visibly, “Well if those aliens are here for the weapon, maybe we should give it to them?” He anxiously twists his fingers where they grasp Lance’s left arm tightly, “I don't know, maybe they’ll leave us alone?” He looks at the side of the cabin, quickly adding, “Sorry, lion, nothing personal.”

Shiro immediately shakes his head, his grasp firm on the right side of Lance’s pilot seat as he speaks with dark fire in his voice, “You don’t understand, these monsters spread like a plague through the galaxy, destroying everything in their path! There’s no bargaining with them, they won’t stop until everything is dead!”

The inside of the lion is very quiet then as we regard Hunk, who looks suddenly and incredibly uncomfortable. He raises a hand in surrender with a sheepish, apologetic look, “Oh. Sorry... never mind then.” He states quickly before he turns away, his face greener than ever as he makes a choking noise. God, please don’t throw up. I can’t imagine surviving the jostling we’re experiencing without being sent flying, there’s no way that throwing ‘avoid vomit’ to the challenge would end in anything but disaster.

The darkness beyond the vision of the lion grows absolute, like we’re leaving a fog cloud behind as we break through the atmosphere, until all before us, much to my horror, lay the grand expanse of space. 

I stare in bewilderment at the number of stars, dotting the sky in numbers I’ve never dreamed that seem to go on forever, but I look past it to the space between, the space that’s empty. Space is just as I thought except on such a greater scale, it’s all nothing, there’s this... never-ending-ness to it that it’s simultaneously terrifying and gorgeous. This… it goes on forever. This is what eternity looks like. It’s like when you stare out at the horizon when you can see the curve of the planet’s surface and you know that you’re just a fleck of dust in the cosmos, except this endlessness is all around us. It’s not just in a horizontal, linear line, it’s everywhere.

This is space. I'm in space.

“Holy shit.” I whisper, my eyes wide as I grip the back of the pilot's seat, “I don't think I’ve ever seen this many stars.” Fortunately the zero gravity has settled the jostling in the cabin, leaving my hands white knuckled and shaky.

Holy fuck. We’re in space.

Suddenly, with a shimmer like a heat wave, the emptiness before us ripples with a flash of some sort of dark violet energy when abruptly a massive, black and purple spaceship snaps before us at a speed I didn’t think was possible, and what’s more it’s so large it’s the only thing in the lion's vision to the point that it completely blocks out the stars. The dark onyxian metal blends the ship into the blackness of space, save for the brilliant purple lights that accent its features like the glint of a black light shining on its face. Its shape is like that of a long necked bird, there’s a long central piece and two auxiliary wings on the back, that are about a third of the size of the long central neck, and a massive spork looking thing on top, about as long and as large as the neck. It’s at least as big as three to four blocks on a street, if not bigger, with the massive wings in the back that flare out, it looks very much like a crane. It’s total size is at least fifty times bigger than the lion we reside in. 

Oh my god. Okay. We are in a giant futuristic cat-head, as Hunk put it, and now there are actual, real life aliens right there, right now, in an alien ship. And we are in space. We’re in fucking space and facing off with a real alien ship with real aliens in a fucking cat-shaped thing- 

“Holy crow, is that a real alien spaceship?!” Hunk cries out what we're all thinking, clinging tighter to Lance's left arm as we stare in bewilderment at the ship. Alien. Spaceship. Oh. My. God. 

Shiro's gaze loses its light as he whispers, just barely loud enough for us to hear, “They found me.”

I stare at the ship with wide eyes, I’m finding it so hard to breath that it burns my lungs to the point I can only take breaths in ragged gasps. Then… these are the Galra Shiro mentioned. the aliens that are supposedly trying to take over the entire universe. It seemed too incredulous to be real, but given everything crazy that was going on I didn’t have any chance to think about it… but here it is. Right here. Right now. 

Oh my GOD.

Suddenly, rays of purple light radiate from the ship, blasting out in our direction. We all cry out as the lion begins to twist, bare evasive maneuvers, as Pidge shrieks, “Lance, we gotta get it outta here!”

“Hang on, I think I know what to do!” He shouts in response, suddenly pushing the controls in sequential moves forward like he does actually know exactly what to do. The lion roars to action, flitting out of line of fire with ease as Pidge leans over Lance’s right, yelling into his face, “Be careful, man! This isn’t a simulator!” 

“Oh good! I always wreck the simulator!” Lance answers, as if that’s supposed to make us feel any better what the fuck , before he pushes the lion into action. It dodges the oncoming beams as Lance murmurs under his breath, “Let's try this.” He pushes one of the buttons on the lit holographic panel before him and the lion's mouth opens beneath us, the grind of metal felt even from within its head as its jaws part. A white-hot blue ray that shakes the cabin from the force blasts the side of the alien ship from the parted jaws of the lion, slicing along the side of the ship like a stray, massive welding beam. This seems like something straight out of some Sci-Fi movie. How the fuck is this happening, how the fuck is this fucking real-

Lance pushes the controls again as if he’s been flying this ship all of his life, leaping the lion forward through empty space and raking its claws into the side of the ship with a scream of metal. As we fly out of range, the curled metal of the ship explodes in the broken crevices where Lance attacked and I admit, my mouth falls open in awe. But when I look back through the side windows of the pilot chamber I see that the ship isn't really in disrepair, I would say the damage done looks like a key scratch on the side of a car. Goddamnit, it looked so impressive up close... 

“Nice job, Lance!” Shiro exclaims, and I let out a breathless laugh. This machine is certainly powerful, I can’t imagine the number this thing could do on a tank. It could probably eat a tank for breakfast. I couldn't believe how easy Lance made that look. Even though it didn’t permanently dismantle the ship, no singular fighter like the military has would be able to hurt a ship that large to such an extent out here in empty space. And that beam in its mouth, it has a fucking cannon in its throat, imagine that against a tank… an army of tanks… 

“Okay, I think it’s time to bring these guys away from our planet.” Lance states with firm determination, turning the lion and flying out into open space with the alien ship left in our wake. 

“What makes you so sure they’ll follow us?” I ask in a bewildered tone, turning backwards and watching the receding form of Earth, slightly marred by the brutish edges of the Galra ship as we peel away at such a speed that within a minute our planet, our home, is but a speck behind us. 

Even though Earth is far behind, the cruiser is not. As I look out the side windows of the cabin, I see that not only is the ship following us, it’s gaining. Okay, answers that question. 

“Uh, Lance, the ship is gaining on us!” Pidge cries, I turn around to see him at the other side window with his gaze fixed on the Galra cruiser at our rear. 

Lance frowns, “That’s weird, they’re not trying to shoot us, they’re just... chasing!”

“Okay, now we think that aliens following us is good?!” Hunk shrieks, clinging to an overhead, jutting piece in the pilot chamber ceiling, “I'm not on board with this new direction, guys!”

“Um, where are we?” Keith asks in a surprisingly level tone, his confused gaze looking out the window through the lion’s eyes. 

“Um, space. ” I snap back rhetorically. Mr. Brooding Wonder meets my gaze with complete lack of amusement, so I punctuate it with a wild gesture out the window, “We’re in fucking space. ” I realize then in that moment right then that I still have a firm hold on his jacket, pressing him against the chair. I release him, but he doesn’t seem to notice, staring just past me and out the gaze of the lion. I turn and follow his gaze to spot what’s captured his attention: a celestial body. It appears to be a moon because it’s surface is just a ghostly white… so perhaps it’s the Moon? But it can’t be… that takes something like a whole day to get to in a normal spaceship!

“The edge of the solar system…” Shiro responds slowly. I blink over at him with wide as as his gaze remains firmly planted on the moon, speaking like he can’t believe his own words, “That’s Kerberos.”

“What?!” Pidge cries, looking out the window with wide eyes, “It takes months for our ships to get this far! … It took us five seconds.”

I blink in shock, my mouth dropping. Kerberos is the moon that orbits Pluto. Like, the Pluto that’s at the very edge of our solar system, Pluto.  

We’re literally on the edge of our known universe. This is the farthest that man has been able to go since Shiro’s expedition, and we, a bunch of idiots thrown together by chance and happenstance in some alien warship are going farther than anyone on Earth, ever. In a fucking minute no less. 

What the fuck. 

I look back at the alien spaceship slowly gaining ground - or space, I guess - behind us. They're able to go even faster and farther than even we are, enough so that it’s a part of their society, since they’re running around conquering things. Romans, but in space. Oh, joy of joys… 

I feel a sudden shiver up my spine, as if a ghost is passing through my being when my dream lion’s purr stirs once more in my chest; I feel like it’s some sort of second heartbeat pulse within me, something I can’t quite describe. Yet, as soon as it comes, before I can process what I’m saying I murmur, “Something’s coming.”

Keith glances over at me with a raised eyebrow, replying in a questioning tone, “What is?”

Suddenly, without warning, a massive force roars into the cabin like thunder and a flash of light snaps open ahead of the lion. It looks like some sort of portal; there are blue markings and swirls around the edges like cracked paint, leading into what looks like a tunnel within made of swirling stardust. It’s thrumming with a kind of energy I’ve never seen or experienced, but it’s obvious and protruding right in front of us as we hurtle forward. We’ll be upon it within the minute.

Hunk lets out a tense breath, nearing the panicked zone, “Uh, guys, what is that?!”

Lance’s eyes are wide as he stares at the random tunnel, his grasp on the controls tightening, “Guys, this might be crazy, but I think the lion wants us to go through there!”

Pidge peers at Lance with curious eyes, his fingers grasping tightly onto one of his backpack straps, “Where does it go?” His tone is soft, less frantic, and entirely different than the panicked one we have been using since we’ve entered the lion.

Lance matches it immediately. “I don’t know.” He answers honestly, flickering his gaze to Pidge over his shoulder before he affixes it back on the portal-like hole before us. “Shiro, you’re the senior officer here. What should we do?" Oh, now we’re following orders? Aren’t we well past that, now?

Shiro takes a moment, staring at the portal briefly before he answers, “Whatever happened back there, this lion seems to know more than we do. I say we trust it.” He stares at the space around us, as if looking to see how the lion would react. He meets my gaze as I regard him, and his tone softens into something I can’t describe other than familial, “But we’re a team, now. We should decide together.”

We're a team now. 

Something within my chest sparks at the word, and I feel the purr rattle like a bird in a cage within my chest.

Pidge placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder after a second of silence and nods. Hunk for once seems to not be turning green, and staring resolutely at the unknown ahead with a deep furrowing frown.

“I know I’m just a civilian…” I begin speaking and despite the situation I try not to cow at how intimidated I am with all these strangers watching, and listening, to me, “But... I think we have to go. Something about this lion, those aliens back there, Voltron... It’s not over. Something here is happening that’s bigger than we are. I think we should see it through.” I state, as stoic and firm as I can be while being scared absolutely shitless. I’m beyond scared now, it’s just settled to alright we’re in space and we’re being chased by evil aliens or whatever and now we’re about to enter a scary tunnel that leads somewhere we don’t know because a mechanical lion told us to so this is normal now.

Lance sighs as we face the approaching tunnel, his tone morphing to one that’s surprisingly lackadaisical, “Alright! Looks like we are all missing class tomorrow!” He pushes the controls onward toward the swirling portal, closer and closer by the second. 

We dive within.

The tunnel is dark, but I can’t examine my surroundings closely as I desperately cling to the side of the ship to keep from falling, we rattle inside the lion’s piloting chamber like the innards of a maraca from the power of the tunnel seeping into the cabin and shaking us about. I almost let go, my grip has been so tight for so long that it aches my fingers, but as suddenly as it begins, it’s over, and the cabin settles. I’m able to stand upright again while grasping Lance's seat to examine the exterior, the stars beyond… and the planet that lays displayed before us. 

I have never seen it before. It’s blue and green like Earth, but it has only one, large, brown and green patchy landmass in the center, surrounded on all sides by dark blue oceans. I don’t see any other signs of land besides it on its surface as we approach. 

“Whoa.” Lance mumbles, his eyes wide, “That was…” 

Hunk suddenly tenses up, his face going very green as he whips away from us. I barely have time to step out of his way as he throws up all over the floor to the left side of the cabin. 

“So... So sorry.” Hunk gasps apologetically between heaves, his hand clasped onto the side of the panel to Lance’s left. I gently pat his back, holding the trail of the ribbon around his head to keep it out of his way. 

Pidge adjusts his glasses with a snarky grin, “I’m just surprised it took this long.” He giggles wickedly as Hunk heaves, and I grow suddenly very pleased that I managed to have a strong stomach, considering the circumstances.

“Uh, you’re on my foot.” Keith murmurs just in my ear, and I blink and immediately shift to my other foot to move it. “Oh shit, my bad.” I answer with an apologetic grin, but Keith merely shrugs it off and turns his gaze back to look out the lion’s eyes, “Just don’t wanna get thrown up on.” He mutters. I can’t help but smirk as I rub Hunk’s back comfortingly as he attempts to recover.

“I don’t recognize any constellations.” Shiro murmurs suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks around through the lion’s eyes with a worried expression, “We must be a long way from Earth.” 

I try, and fail, not to get too anxious about that. I think back to Mr. Roads, the head of school, Conner, my parents. What would they think? Would they even believe me if I told them that I... yeah, no, this is just too crazy to even be thinking about explaining this to someone right now. No, best not to think about that. Let’s think about this, where we are. Where we could be. 

“That’s one big landmass.” I murmur, tapping my lips in thought, “I know this is crazy, but considering all the crazy shit that’s happened… Didn’t Earth used to be one land before it broke apart?” I flicker my gaze to the others while I bite on my lip, “Maybe that tunnel thing made us travel through time?”

“Please, I don’t want to think about that...” Hunk groans before he dry heaves again, bile dripping from his lips to the floor of the cabin. I pat his back again comfortingly. 

“No, the constellations would still largely be the same, even thousands of years ago, because of our placement in the solar system.” Pidge answers in a surprisingly academic tone, and I find myself staring at him with a raised eyebrow as he straightens his glasses on his nose to examine the space through the lion’s eyes, “If these constellations are entirely new, then we are no longer in the same part of space.”

Pidge looks no more than fifteen, he hasn’t even remotely hit puberty yet, but he’s speaking with the same conviction and level of knowledge like my AP Biology professor last year. Or maybe I just don’t know enough about space or constellations or whatever to fact check him. 

The others don’t rush to correct him though, the only sound in the cabin for a few moments is Hunk just panting and the hum of the holographic panels as the lion floats in space. After a moment the thrusters re-engage as the lion moves forward towards the planet and we move to accommodate the movement, practically used to it by now. 

Lance furrows his eyebrows, “The lion wants us to go to this planet.” He pauses to glance over his shoulder, his gaze is a little starry as he murmurs thoughtfully, “I think... I think it’s going home.” He mumbles, his hands moving to guide us closer to the blue-green planet. 

We descend into the atmosphere.