A new message arrives and the beeping of the communicator tears Thace out of his desperate thoughts. He gets up from the bed and reads it: Ulaz died fighting what had been Prorok, but this is allegedly a good thing, because now the paladins of Voltron are more inclined to trust the Blade of Marmora. Thace shuts down his communicator, takes his blade and goes to the bathroom. There he sits down on the floor and pulls the knife out of the scabbard, watches it unfold into a sword. Terrible fear that has been biting him throughout the last time is gone. This is it. He is supposed to mourn his fallen comrade, and admire the leader's smart move that brought them closer to Voltron, but he forgot about them the instant he let the communicator fall. Only now he truly understands what he has done.

Prorok is dead. Dead. Dead, and nothing can bring him back. Prorok is gone, and now Thace is alone, forever. Forever turns out to be such a terrifying word. Gone forever…

Thace brushes tears off his eyes and presses the blade to the place where the neck connects to the shoulder, where he feels his pulse in the vein. One movement and it is going to be over. He failed. He couldn't protect the only man he loved, the only one who truly cared for him. Now, what has been been the oasis of their love is despoiled, and Thace was the one who opened the gate for the intruders to enter. The whole world seems an icy desert, and there is no salvation from the frost, no way to stop this merciless pain in his chest. There is no reason to live without Prorok. Prorok will never lean over him to look at something at the table, and he will never feel the pleasant weight of his body. Prorok will never kiss him until he begs for continuation. Prorok will never listen to him the way he did, with this complete concentration, as if what he says is the most important thing in the world. Prorok's palm will never cup his cheek, his fur will never tickle his nose, his gaze will never send goosebumps down his spine. Thace will never inhale the scent of his shampoo, never listen to his advice, never hug him when suddenly awoken in the middle of the night. Never kiss his belly and tell him how he loves him.

And above all the grief, there is guilt. I was the one to betray him, Thace thinks. Not someone else, but me. I had a choice, and I chose to send him to death. My cowardice, my lack of decisiveness sealed his fate. I should have known that he was too high in the ranks to survive the fall of the empire. I should have found another way, no matter what it would have cost me. He died for what I have done, for my mistake of not getting rid of the sentries! He risked everything when he chose to protect me, fully aware that I am untrustworthy, and how did I repay him? I am a disgusting rat who bit into the throat of a man who never wished me anything bad, a despicable traitor, doomed to wallow in his useless regrets for the rest of his days. I gave him out and let Zarkon…

Zarkon!

Thace gasps and opens his eyes. If he was to die now, then Zarkon and his witch would win. They would go on ruling and everything he had done, his whole betrayal would be in vain. Prorok's death would be in vain! Thace looks at the blade at his throat, as if seeing it for the first time, and throws it on the floor; then he gets up. No, he won't die. He won't let them win. They may have taken his love away from him, but they will not stop him from having his revenge. He will wipe them and all their sycophants out. He goes back into the room and starts typing the message to Kolivan.

"I have a plan on sabotaging the central base from inside. We need..."

Thace's situation would be truly hilarious, being in charge for the investigation of his own betrayal, if it was not so dangerous. Haggar knows that one from Prorok's men opened the solar barrier, so she keeps Thace on a short leash.

"There is a traitor in our ranks. We shall find him out..."

Her whole being is one grim premonition, and even the hiss of her robes radiates danger, but it doesn't bother Thace. Every horror that could happen to him already happened when Prorok was dragged out of the throne room. Every piece of fear and grief he could feel he already felt. His heart is full of pain like a wet sponge, and it cannot take any more emotions inside, even if a whole ocean washes over it. When Haggar asks him if he knows about the spy, he does not have to calm himself down to answer her - he really does not feel anything particular. When the druids try to threaten to murder him, he laughs internally.

I am already a dead man, he understands. Thace the living being is gone, he died the second when Thace, the member of Blade of Marmora, didn't move when his love was dragged to his imminent death. Now there is nothing that can stop him from acting to his duty. When he walks along the corridors of the base that would soon cease to exist, he feels deadly and unstoppable. Kolivan's orders are his absolute priority now. If the leader told him to kill each and every person around him, Thace wouldn't ask for a second time.

They do capture him eventually, of course. There was no way he could fool them long enough; they apprehend him when he tries to retrieve the data stick with the virus. The culprit is only too clear, so they don't waste time on accusational speeches. When they tie him to the electrical post, the druids look him into the face, but there is nothing. Thace is not afraid of pain. He is not afraid to die. If anything, death is the only thing he deserves now for what he did to his partner.

It hurts, of course. It hurts more than he could imagine. His body is still alive, and it screams for release... Thace cries in pain, tears and sweat running down his face, sometimes his mind plays tricks on him and he starts hallucinating, but not for a second does he even consider telling anything. He prays for them to make a mistake, to kill him, to send him to Prorok faster, but they are too skilled for that.