Notes: This was originally as a 'gift' fic for Queenie.
“Haggar, what in the bloody hell are you doing?” Lotor asked, watching weird smoke drift from the cauldron in front of her.
“Shut up,” Haggar snipped, pouring over the thick book laid out in front of her. “I need to get these chants right.”
Lotor sighed. “I am your King. Tell me what you're doing.”
Haggar paused, squinting at the ancient galran script, before deciding that she might as well tell Lotor to get him out of the way. “I’m going to destroy the Voltron Force.”
He perked up, moving over. “How?”
“Well, the Voltron Force are close.” Haggar grinned menacingly, stirring the concoction of her pots. “You take one out, the rest fall like dominos.”
It all happened so fast. One moment, Keith was lounging on the couch with them, draped on Lance’s side. The next, his eyes turned completely green and he had stabbed Hunk.
Lance shuffled around, trading blows with Keith. Thankfully his military training kicked in, but unfortunately Keith’s did too. And Keith had a knife.
“Guys, go get backup!” He shouted to the others behind. “A way to get him un-possessed, anything! I’ve got him!” He parried the hand with the knife with the back of his hand, somehow not getting stabbed in the process as he heard the door slam shut behind him.
“Keith, please! Snap out of it!” Lance shouted desperately, dodging the blade swinging in his direction. He ducked right before it hit his cheek, kicking his foot out to trip him.
Keith fell, and Lance did something rare. He turned tail and ran.
Lance was legitimately scared for his life. Keith was a very good fighter, has been training in Tai Chi since he was six and was the best out of all of them in hand to hand combat. In other words, Lance was fucked unless he got his hands on a weapon.
He snagged his key off of the counter, using his shoulder bracer thing to deflect the knife coming for him (thank god they kept their pilot outfit on after that robeast fight). He skidded into the armory, grabbing a sword off of the wall and slipping his laser pistol into his holster. Unfortunately, possessed Keith decided to upgrade, and grabbed a sword to go in his other hand. Curse the fact that Keith is ambidextrous.
The first swing was Keith’s, and sparks lit up the room. The dull clang rung out in the room, and Keith quickly swung again. Lance ducked, backing up to avoid a third swing.
He lunged forward, trying to disarm him, but ended up getting a deep slash in his gut for his efforts. Backing up slowly and trying to parry any future attacks while an arm covers his bloody stomach.
“C’mon Keith, snap out of it!” Lance shouted, the clanging of metal ringing out in the ballroom they somehow found themselves in.
He stumbled back as Keith landed another hit, this time a deep cut across his chest. But Lance had been watching his timing, and managed to get a cut on his knuckles, causing him to drop the knife. It’s the little victories.
“Keith, I don’t want to hurt you!” Lance desperately backed up, eyes scanning around him for an exit. It was too late though: the only exit was the one they had come through.
He was distracted, his attention taken off of his opponent. Which proved to be a mistake.
Lance screamed as Keith sliced his hand clean off.
His sword clattered to the ground as Keith kicked him backwards. He landed on his back with a sickening crunch, and coughed up blood. The world was starting to spin around him, when Keith pressed his boot against his chest.
Lance closed his eyes, fully prepared to meet his end, then felt tears on his face.
Keith’s eyes were still glowing green, but his expression was pained, unlike the blank expression earlier, and he was hesitating.
That’s all he needed. Lance pulled out his gun and fired.
Keith crumpled to the ground, a hole in his chest. Lance dropped it and scrambled over to Keith’s body, green smoke coming out of his chest, which was a little concerning.
Miraculously, Keith’s eyes fluttered open. They were clear and black, not a speck of green in them.
“Keith!” Lance’s vision blurred, tears clouding his eyes as he desperately grabbed Keith’s hand with the one he had left. “Stay with me buddy. The others are on your way, you’ll make it out of here.”
“Lance,” his voice was hardly more than a whisper, and he curled his fingers into Lance’s palm. “They’re not going to make it in time.”
“Save your strength, you’re gonna make it.”
Keith shook his head weakly. “Lance. I need you to promise me something. Promise me you’ll take care of the team.”
Lance choked up, tears openly running down his face. “I promise.”
Keith smiled, soft and small, before the light faded from his eyes. Lance closed his eyes, head spinning, and the only sounds he could hear were blood and tears dripping onto the floor.
That’s how they found him, knelt over the corpse of his commander, tears and blood running down his face. Just as dead as the man in front of him.
“Shut up,” Haggar snipped, pouring over the thick book laid out in front of her. “I need to get these chants right.”
Lotor sighed. “I am your King. Tell me what you're doing.”
Haggar paused, squinting at the ancient galran script, before deciding that she might as well tell Lotor to get him out of the way. “I’m going to destroy the Voltron Force.”
He perked up, moving over. “How?”
“Well, the Voltron Force are close.” Haggar grinned menacingly, stirring the concoction of her pots. “You take one out, the rest fall like dominos.”
It all happened so fast. One moment, Keith was lounging on the couch with them, draped on Lance’s side. The next, his eyes turned completely green and he had stabbed Hunk.
Lance shuffled around, trading blows with Keith. Thankfully his military training kicked in, but unfortunately Keith’s did too. And Keith had a knife.
“Guys, go get backup!” He shouted to the others behind. “A way to get him un-possessed, anything! I’ve got him!” He parried the hand with the knife with the back of his hand, somehow not getting stabbed in the process as he heard the door slam shut behind him.
“Keith, please! Snap out of it!” Lance shouted desperately, dodging the blade swinging in his direction. He ducked right before it hit his cheek, kicking his foot out to trip him.
Keith fell, and Lance did something rare. He turned tail and ran.
Lance was legitimately scared for his life. Keith was a very good fighter, has been training in Tai Chi since he was six and was the best out of all of them in hand to hand combat. In other words, Lance was fucked unless he got his hands on a weapon.
He snagged his key off of the counter, using his shoulder bracer thing to deflect the knife coming for him (thank god they kept their pilot outfit on after that robeast fight). He skidded into the armory, grabbing a sword off of the wall and slipping his laser pistol into his holster. Unfortunately, possessed Keith decided to upgrade, and grabbed a sword to go in his other hand. Curse the fact that Keith is ambidextrous.
The first swing was Keith’s, and sparks lit up the room. The dull clang rung out in the room, and Keith quickly swung again. Lance ducked, backing up to avoid a third swing.
He lunged forward, trying to disarm him, but ended up getting a deep slash in his gut for his efforts. Backing up slowly and trying to parry any future attacks while an arm covers his bloody stomach.
“C’mon Keith, snap out of it!” Lance shouted, the clanging of metal ringing out in the ballroom they somehow found themselves in.
He stumbled back as Keith landed another hit, this time a deep cut across his chest. But Lance had been watching his timing, and managed to get a cut on his knuckles, causing him to drop the knife. It’s the little victories.
“Keith, I don’t want to hurt you!” Lance desperately backed up, eyes scanning around him for an exit. It was too late though: the only exit was the one they had come through.
He was distracted, his attention taken off of his opponent. Which proved to be a mistake.
Lance screamed as Keith sliced his hand clean off.
His sword clattered to the ground as Keith kicked him backwards. He landed on his back with a sickening crunch, and coughed up blood. The world was starting to spin around him, when Keith pressed his boot against his chest.
Lance closed his eyes, fully prepared to meet his end, then felt tears on his face.
Keith’s eyes were still glowing green, but his expression was pained, unlike the blank expression earlier, and he was hesitating.
That’s all he needed. Lance pulled out his gun and fired.
Keith crumpled to the ground, a hole in his chest. Lance dropped it and scrambled over to Keith’s body, green smoke coming out of his chest, which was a little concerning.
Miraculously, Keith’s eyes fluttered open. They were clear and black, not a speck of green in them.
“Keith!” Lance’s vision blurred, tears clouding his eyes as he desperately grabbed Keith’s hand with the one he had left. “Stay with me buddy. The others are on your way, you’ll make it out of here.”
“Lance,” his voice was hardly more than a whisper, and he curled his fingers into Lance’s palm. “They’re not going to make it in time.”
“Save your strength, you’re gonna make it.”
Keith shook his head weakly. “Lance. I need you to promise me something. Promise me you’ll take care of the team.”
Lance choked up, tears openly running down his face. “I promise.”
Keith smiled, soft and small, before the light faded from his eyes. Lance closed his eyes, head spinning, and the only sounds he could hear were blood and tears dripping onto the floor.
That’s how they found him, knelt over the corpse of his commander, tears and blood running down his face. Just as dead as the man in front of him.