Shiro waits. The room is dark and quiet, save for the lone florescent bulb flickering in the corner and the pounding of his heart. A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, just as a new sound fills his ears. Although distant, the noise is unmistakeable.
Galra officials.
The door opens, metal slamming against metal. In steps two men. The first is clearly a high-ranking military general: sturdy build, close-cropped hair, metallic badges covering half of his uniform. Although he has the face of a human, his eyes nothing but cold steel. Clutched in his gloved hands is a sharp blade, the malice in his eyes reflected onto the polished metal surface. Standing next to him is another figure. Unlike his counterpart, this person is a mere sentry. The general grunts an order to him and then makes his way the center of the room, his footsteps drawing closer and closer until he is but inches away from Shiro's face.
The general wastes no time. " Where is Commander Allura?" he demands. His breath smells metallic, like blood.
Through gritted teeth, Shiro replies. "I don't know."
"LIES!" bellows the general, his fist making contact with Shiro's face. Pain numbs his body, but Shiro refuses to let his composure shatter.
"I already said, I don't know."
This time, there is no physical contact. Rather, the general leans over Shiro and hisses in his ear.
" I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth before I show you just what the Galra Union does to prisoners who don't cooperate."
Memories flash through Shiro's mind. It pains him to think of his past, but he still allows himself to be carried away by his subconscious. The missions. The battles. The training. He can't- he won't- let intel about the Coalition fall into Galra hands. After moments of consideration, he finally opens his eyes and meets the gaze of the general.
"I would rather have my arm cut off than give you information about the Coalition,"
The general slowly turns his blade over in his hand and smiles at Shiro.
"Fine," he says. "So be it."