( Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Voltron because believe me my series would be cannon if I did. Also i did not write all of this on my own, this was co-written with tumblr user: binart, a large majority of Chapter 1-5 was written by them. However, i do own my Voltron OC: Kylee. side note: you can follow the tag #quintessencequestau on instagram. feel free to make fan art.)
Lance thought he had fallen asleep in the anti-gravity chambers they had at the Garrison again.
Surprisingly, the chambers were open to all aspiring cadets looking to learn to acclimate to zero gravity early on. All cargo-class and fighter-class cadets were encouraged to spend as much off-time as they pleased in the chambers during operational hours, and sometimes Lance would do his homework there.
He wasn't allowed to have any paper, but he could bring in a tablet, and that was just as good for him since he typed a lot faster than he wrote. It was a bit difficult to adjust to the nauseating feeling that washed over him while trying to focus on his screen, but after a few visits he had acclimated nicely.
Almost as fast as Shirogane, an older faculty member on shift at the anti-grav chamber remarked, and Lance beamed with pride that day. As far as he knew, that Keith guy didn't spend very much time here since there were always at least a few people floating around (literally), and it felt nice to have one thing to hold above the other cadet.
It became such a habit to spend his off time there, that occasionally Lance would fall asleep. Coming to after falling asleep in an anti-gravity chamber was definitely a bizarre feeling.
At first, it feels like you're still asleep, floating suspended in comfortable room temperature. Then as consciousness returns, panic hits you as you expect to start falling.
Which was exactly how Lance felt when he came to once again. The medication they pumped him full of made him woozy, and at first he didn't remember where he was or what had happened. He was floating, numb from any discomfort. Then he could feel the chill in the air, and the dull throb blossom on his face.
Panic hit him, and Lance almost expected to start falling.
He was still strapped in to the upright table they brought him in on, however, and couldn't even budge an inch. Right. He was a prisoner. He looked around.
Same room as last time.
It was mostly quiet aside from the electronics around him, letting out their constant hum he was now starting to grow accustomed to. The castle of lions had a similar sound to it, depending on where you went, but it wasn't nearly as loud. The pleasantly bright lighting of all the rooms also offset the slight noise.
Looks like the Galra don't care much about euphonics or interior design. Lance couldn't help but to let out a quiet laugh to himself, despite the situation. He wasn't in very much pain, aside from his face which still ached quite a bit. Thinking for a moment, Lance tried to focus on different parts of his body.
He knew he should feel aches all over, both from the blast he was hit with when he was initially captured, and from the rough treatment afterwards. His vision in the one eye was still just.. gone, and Lance pointedly avoiding thinking about why that was.
He tried to wiggle his toes, but they were too numb. His foot twitched sluggishly instead.
Thinking was also pretty difficult, so Lance figured he was still probably very medicated from.. whatever it was they did to him. The passage of time also seemed warped, and he was having a lot of trouble figuring how long he had even been awake for. Was it a couple of minutes, or longer than that? It was hard to tell.
He was starting to wonder how long it would be just him and the steady beeping of his heart rate monitor, before a familiar figure entered the room. The small druid with the tail quietly but swiftly approached, pulling the same IV drip and carrying the same brief case as before.
Their other hand was hidden beneath their robes and appeared to be holding something new, but even while squinting Lance couldn't make it out.
The back of his throat ached as he tried to squeak out a greeting, but it sounded nothing like his normal voice. It cracked like it did when he first hit puberty, and in different circumstances Lance would have probably been embarrassed.
Within moments the druid was next to him and set the suitcase down next to the same table as before, flicking the IV drip into place. They snapped their gaze behind them to check the door, and as they did their hood jostled from the quick motion. For a brief moment, Lance caught sight of.. skin? blonde hair? ..What? Was he hallucinating?
As quick as he saw it, it was gone, and replaced itself with a faceful of their mask, now pressed up inches from Lance's face. They spoke quickly, and softly. "Drink." The cloak covering their arm lifted and fell to the side. A translucent pouch of clear liquid was held up to his mouth, and Lance's eye widened.
They were giving him water? They made an insistent motion to drink, and for a moment panic seized him and he feared it was a trap.
But Lance remembered what they said to him last time.
Why bother doing all all that if they had already captured him and had him at their mercy? There was no need to feign kindness at this point. Whoever this druid was, they were someone Lance felt like he could trust. He was also extremely thirsty.
His lips parted, and before he could thank them, they stuck the suction part of the pouch into his mouth and squeezed.
Immediately sweet, sweet relief flooded his dry mouth. It was caked with grime and blood and initially the water he greedily swallowed tasted foul, but Lance barely registered it since he was so desperately thirsty. He hadn't even realized it until that point. It was amazing.
"Quickly," they whispered, and Lance could only make a noise of affirmation in between swallows. The druid turned again towards the door, and through the distortion of the pouch he could see a bit more of their face through their robes. Were they... cute? They looked almost... human.
"They're nearly here, I'm squeezing in the rest," they warned before grasping the pouch and pushing the rest in. With the warning, Lance was able to stop himself from choking, and let out a quiet, pleased exhale after finishing. He cleared his throat.
"Th... Thank you," Lance mumbled, still drowsy from the medication. His throat felt a lot better though. From afar, he could hear some muffled chatter grow near.
The small druid quickly resumed their normal set up, and went to work on assembling the IV and quintessence injector as before. Their body language seemed almost hesitant this time, however. "...You don't.. have to thank me," they murmured, and held up the syringe injector
as if to show why thanks weren't necessary. Lance shook his head.
"..It's okay, I get it. Undercover business, right?" His words had a slight slur to them, but he hoped the other understood what he was trying to say. They gave a small nod, and turned to insert the injector into the IV.
Now, there was a question pressing against Lance's mind urgently, as the mental fog began clearing. It felt like he had been out for a while, and he felt.. off. He couldn't explain how. He was clearly medicated, but it wasn't as if he was acting out enough to warrant something like that. They put him out for a reason.
"Hey, uh, did.. did they do something to me..?" The druid's hands stilled.
Twenty feet away, the door swished open with a mechanical whir, and a group of tall, imposing druids poured in. They were silent now, whatever conversation they were having prior to entering the room ended. Their footsteps were almost non-existent, and only the drag of their cloaks could easily be heard. Lance fearfully watched them approach as the smaller druid worked beside him, feeling the familiar warmth of the quintessence emanate onto his skin as the concoction began seeping into the tube connected to his arm.
There were seven druids including the one next to him, but only one of the larger ones approached.
"Varis." The smaller druid twitched slightly, and after affixing the injector turned to their superior. Through the fear Lance realized that must be his helper's name.
"Injection complete, sir," they reported, voice sounding more cold and mechanical than it did when they spoke to Lance. They gave no indication of remorse or hesitation whatsoever. If they truly were an undercover agent, they were clearly very good at it.
"Dismissed," the druid ordered, and the other quickly took their leave, weaving through the other six. Lance tried to watch them leave, but his face was quickly seized by the druid in front of them.
"Hmm.. a success, by the looks of it. Healing nicely." Lance squinted at the ugly, bird-like mask currently scrutinizing him, and and gritted his teeth against the harsh grip.
"What'd you do to me?!" he growled, trying to wrench his face away.
At that moment, Lance realized what happened.
The vision was beginning to return out of his eye that was definitely ruined.
"What did we do, paladin? We have done nothing but give you a gift, courtesy of the high priestess herself."
The gift—the implant—and what the druids called its "near perfect integration to his central nervous system," needed very little in-person observation to ensure it was functioning properly. After the group of druids left, Lance realized they all probably came down with the main intent of screwing with him. Their taunts ate away at his slowly returning mental clarity, and Lance truly began to understand the direness of his situation.
He could see just as well as he did before—before that other Galra ruined his eye. If anything, things seemed more crisp than ever, and when Lance closed his regular eye, aside from the slight sky blue tinge everything had, he would call his vision perfect.
But why? Why would they injure him, then fix what they inflicted? If the commander's actions weren't planned, why didn't the druids just not bother and leave him as he was? Were they afraid of risking an infection if they left the wound untreated?
No, Lance shook his head, neck swaying slightly against his tightened restraints. They had their own versions of Altean healing pods; his team had run into sectors of Galran outposts that had healing pod rooms not dissimilar to the one in the Castle of Lions. They could have thrown him in there without going through all the trouble of giving him some kind of.. bionic eye.
His cheek twitched and lifted his lid against the implant, trying to feel for any difference between his normal eye and that one. He felt a slight lift when his lid moved up to cover his cornea, and that side of his face maybe felt a bit warmer than the other, but that was about it. Learning anything else about what they did to him seemed impossible.
Lance tapped the back of his head against the cold metal of the table he was strapped to, and fought back tears of frustration.
Hours and hours passed, or what felt like hours, Lance wasn't sure since keeping track of time in the room his was in wasn't possible. Had it been a day now? At some point he fell asleep, and woke up to the familiar sensation of a dry ache in the back of his throat.
His stomach was definitely empty, but didn't growl with the telltale signs of hunger. Whatever that IV liquid they pumped into him was, it was probably sustaining him somehow. But only barely. He felt weak, constantly tired, and his muscles were stiff from disuse.
The heart rate monitor beside him had become nothing more than white noise to him by that point, and Lance began to wonder how long he was going to be here for. A small part of him almost wished for something, anything to happen to get him out of that room. He was alone with his thoughts and his anxieties about his team and whatever was happening to him, and Lance felt like he was going stir-crazy.
The small druid returned some time later, routinely bringing with them the roller and briefcase, and Lance was determined to figure out more about what was going on.
Once again, the druid had hidden with them something beneath their cloak.
"Hey," Lance greeted, startled by how croaky he sounded. He hadn't been doing much in the way of talking lately, and his voice reflected that. Though if they noticed, the other said nothing to indicate this.
"No one will be coming today." Their voice a near whisper as they set up their tools. They pulled out another packet of water, uncapped it, then pushed it against Lance's mouth. "Take your time." Lance greedily accepted and began downing the entire thing.
As he did, the tell-tale clicking of the briefcase latches beside him echoed throughout the room, reminding him why they were really here. Right, answers.
The needle was inserted once again into the drip after being attached to Lance's arm, and as the uncomfortable warmth began to seep down into his veins, the packet was removed from his mouth. He took a moment to catch his breath and wait for the slight brain freeze to subside.
The druid remained quiet as they watched him.
"Uh.. Thanks, again, for that, uh, Varis?" They seemed unused to receiving any thanks, and turned their mask down towards the ground, shuffling their feet awkwardly before giving a small nod. "Do you know why they keep having you do this, though..?" Lance motioned with his head towards the IV next to him, and they looked back up to him.
"...To prepare you," they began, and their voice held an almost sad tone to it. "This mixture is injected into... specimen, to prepare their body to not reject any alterations or implants made to it."
"But that's what I don't get," Lance implored. "Why would they give me my eye back? I'm a paladin of Voltron! They're supposed to hate me, not help me!"
The druid shook their head. "That wasn't to help you. It was to see how well you would adapt to having your nervous system slightly modified." They lifted a hand towards the IV. "You did so with almost no issue, so they're preparing you for the final phase."
"...Okay t-that sounds pretty scary.. What's the final phase..?" Lance was almost afraid to ask, and his throat felt dry despite his earlier drink.
They were silent for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure, but from what I've overheard, they're talking about transferring you to something, or somewhere.."
His breathing sped up. "W-When?"
"I don't know."
"Do you know why they're doing all of this?"
"..I don't. But." They hesitated for a moment, before seeming to steel themselves and lifted a trembling hand against their mask and pulled. Lance's eyes widened.
They looked human.
They looked human.
"While I'm still working on a plan, I'm going to get you out of here before any of that happens."
After the shock of meeting another (half) human subsided, Lance could feel his ever-dwindling sense of hope reignite.
Soon after, the druid—Kylee, not Varis, they revealed—hastily went to make their way out of the room, but not before reaching into their robe once again and pulling out a small oval-shaped item, wrapped in purple foil. They pulled on each end until something resembling a cough-drop rolled out.
Before Lance could ask what it was, Kylee popped it in Lance's mouth, and a bizarre, sour mint flooded his taste buds. The taste was overpowering, but wasn't the most unpleasant thing he had ever tasted.
"Wha-" being that he was so unused to eating anything by this point, his mouth took over by producing way too much saliva, which poured out when he tried to speak.
"Humans need to maintain dental hygiene, and this will help in place of brushing, for now," they explained with an almost amused smile, brushing the ground with their tail. Lance swallowed, and tried to mirror his expression. His breath must have been pretty awful up to that point to make them risk smuggling toothpaste candy to him. He laughed.
"Alright. I'll make sure to brush next time you visit."
They made a perplexed face before nodding anyway, placed their mask back on, assembled their supplies, then swiftly left.
He watched as they went, then swished the weird candy around his mouth thoughtfully, revelling in the clean feeling it left in his mouth in its wake. It was bitter, but the refreshing mint was almost pleasant. It soon melted and Lance exhaled through his mouth, trying to focus on that instead of the burning now beginning to pulse through his body from the injection.
It was harder than before, since his veins felt much hotter than they did in the past. The dull discomfort started coming in waves, and it was impossible to conceal a wince every time the ache returned.
To distract himself, Lance tried to think about what he should do next. There wasn't much he could do, of course. He was still strapped to an upright table with basically no hope of escape, aside from relying on Kylee. An ally? He wasn't completely sure he could trust the druid yet, even if they hadn't done anything to prove otherwise.
It almost seemed too good to be true that he just so happened to encounter some undercover secret agent half human who said they wanted to help him. But, Lance also piloted a giant cat robot in space, so, stranger things had happened in his life.
Lance suddenly perked up at the thought of his lion. Blue! Maybe.. Maybe he could try to reach out to her or something? Allura told them at one point that the lion and pilot were supposed to share a special bond, or connection.. Since the druids had earlier taunted him by burning his suit and helmet to avoid being tracked, he figured it would be next to impossible for his team to find him now.
But if there was some way to connect to his lion, maybe there would be a way for her to find Lance. In the past, when he piloted Blue, he could always feel a strange sensation in the back of his head. It was gentle and soothing, yet overpowering all at once. Sometimes it would send images or feeling directly into his brain, and so he assumed that was her talking to him, or doing the cat robot ship equivalent of it.
He closed his eyes, ignoring the discomfort of the raised bit of his eye implant. He had nothing but time now, anyway. Might as well try to see if he could do anything to change his situation.
Breathing deeply, Lance cleared his mind and began to concentrate.