Prologue
In front of the old ruins the masked figure looked on, two guards flanking the man in blue and white armor. The armor its best to shield the man from the cold air and the sharp winds that occasionally blew through. The drab gray skies accented this as they stood before the once proud temple, its worshippers scattered generations prior when the Galra bombardments destroyed most of the planet. Seas were boiled, the ground was cracked, and the weather was damaged, a damage that the planet itself had only begun to mend. Even though the air was breathable, the planet itself was still far too hostile to support life for any period of time.
That the temple still stood among the ruin was a monument to the endurance of their people, as well as the frustration that they could not be freed from the tyranny of the Galra.
As several men stood watch outside, the masked figure journeyed into the center of the temple. Before cracked and broken statues and seats, a massive mirror stood, undamaged and pristine. Kneeling before it, the man spoke in a low voice, clearly altered by a machine.
"Overlord Zeppo. I have come here on word of your good news."
The mirror shined a radiant blue light, and from its reflection emerged the face of a man, his skin a grayish-blue and his white beard perfectly kept. The being's cold white eyes looked down on the kneeling figure as he offered a smile.
I bring good news to the Drule Kingdom, my disciple.
"Dare I ask if you have the power to send us Devilscourge?" the man asked, not daring to look up at the image of the Overlord.
No, not yet. You lack the quintessence to breach the barrier between my world and yours for something that powerful. But there is a potential new ally that if you can bring to your cause, can bring the Quintessence needed to break this barrier and allow the Drule victory over the Galra. Raise your head, my disciple, and behold!
Looking up at the mirror, the face of Zeppo was replaced by the image of a gigantic robot destroying Galra ships and battling the Empire's Robeasts. The masked figure recognized it from old tales when they were children. These tales were told to countless children, across numerous galaxies, all speaking of the same champion.
"Voltron?"
Voltron has returned from wherever it was hidden, Zeppo said, his face replacing the images of Voltron that went across the mirror prior. It is under the command of new Paladins and as we speak battles Zarkon and his forces. The new Paladins have already won several small victories against the forces of Zarkon.
The masked figure nodded, seeing where the conversation was going.
"I know what I must do. Voltron will help us defeat the Galra, and help us gain the Quintessence we need to summon Devilscourge. Only then can we defeat Zarkon once and for all."
Then go forth and do what needs to be done. I will wait, as I have done for countless generations, for the Drule to succeed in their fated quest. Go my disciple, and make your ancestors proud.
The face of Zeppo vanished from the mirror, but in its wake the armored man felt something he had not permitted himself to feel in the struggle he had inherited from his parents and their parents before. Hope.
As he walked out of the temple, the two soldiers who stood guard ran to the masked figure, shielding their eyes from another wind gust.
"Your orders Highness?"
"We depart at once," the man said, walking towards the shuttlecraft that had brought him to the surface. "We must find Voltron."
"Voltron?" one of the guards asked. "The old legend?"
"The 'old legend' is very real," he began, "and is once again fighting the Galra Empire. We must recruit the new Paladins to our side.
"If Voltron is fighting the Galra, then finding it should not prove to be difficult."
The three boarded the shuttlecraft, departing from the ruined planet that gave the masked figure, the last of the Bladeknights, a twinge of hope every time she returned to it. Soon, however, she was aboard her cruiser, a stolen Galra battleship manned by Drule men and women. As soon as she boarded, one of the helmsmen spoke to her.
"We received your transmission, your Highness," the helmsman said. "And we've come across a battle between Galra forces and a machine that appears to be a direct match for Voltron. The old legend has returned!"
"Set course for that battle," the masked figure said, sitting down on a chair at the center of the bridge. "We will provide support to Voltron against the Galra forces. From there, we can turn our attention to long term matters."
"Of course your Highness. Setting course now."
Hope was a fleeting thing, and it had been too long since their people had been able to feel it. He dared not reveal the full extent of his plan for that reason.
He didn't want to give the Drule hope only for it to be taken away again.