Slav was 98. 7% certain he was going to die; he was certain of that in multiple realities. Even as a prisoner of the Galra, he had a better chance of keeping his limbs attached to his body. As his vision was often captured by stars and galaxies, the blur of calculations, and alternate storylines meddled together. Slav would see Voltron, its paladins, and its enemies. They were a chaotic rag tag assemble but they were a vital piece in freeing countless worlds from enslavement. There was an element of fear in this tale that was particularly snagging the corner of Slav's mind. It was an element he could not place at this time. Something about the talkative blue one gave a tell tale sign that this wasn't the canon reality. What that sign was, he wasn't certain of. Slav's eyes narrowed. He was sitting in an Altean ship witnessing another one of the paladin squabbles. Yes...the signs were there, It just had to come to him...at any second. The small green one was yelling. Something was missing. Slav were fairly certain it involved a missing dobok. The others were upset that the blue one took this dobok. The erratic emotional outbursts of this species put a pressing migraine in the center of Slav's forebrain.
"Do you know what this is, Lance?"
"I didn't mean to take it Pidge, I didn't even think it was important," the blue one was growing more erratic.
"That's bullshit!" The green one eyes flashed. Slav's eye twitched. He was internally grateful when the black paladin interrupted, "Hey!" However, the red angry one spoke first, "What I don't understand is how you managed to take it without knowing you were taking it, only Pidge has the access to that kind of tech."
The green one continued yelling, "Exactly! I made it for Kieth, it could have killed you Lance. This is not a toy, or cool new gadget or weapon you can play with!"
As the blue one's face began to turn red, Slav's brain began to run a series of calculations. His gaze fixed on the white highlights peeking through this particular paladin's brown blob.
"I'm sorry, Okay? My epic bad."
His fingers reached for something around his wrist. Slav was getting warmer. The paladin muttered something under his breath, "It's not like it works anyway," he tossed the silver object onto the floor, storming off through the Castle doors. Slav had it! He knew why he was suspicious, it was all coming together. The white roots were very telling: this was the reality where Lance was mutant turkey. As he puffed up with pride solving the mystery, the black paladin was shouting, "Lance? Lance!"
The big yellow one and the princess turned grey and faded awkwardly in the background; the lesser Altean with the mustache sighed wistfully, "Ahh, this takes me back to a time in my youth when my hormones were firing away in its-" The two pulled him back into their awkward grey background and seemed to vanish completely. Slav tuned out, daydreaming about doboks. Shiro sighed, "I don't know what's going on with him."
Pidge growled, stalking away with her fists clenched at her side, "Join the club."
"Pidge-" before he could finish the tech expert had already disappeared through the bay doors. There was a long pause of silence as the only two seemingly left in the room were Shiro and Keith. The eighteen year old had his arms crossing his chest, "...It's not adding up for you either?" Shiro's eyes softened, concern tinting the edges, "He just needs some time."
Keith exploded, "How much time? It's been weeks Shiro! He's not getting any better!" "Sometimes weeks isn't enough Keith. It's not enough for Lance, give him some time and he'll come back to us." "We're at war, there is no time," Keith angrily snatched up his jacket and started to leave. He paused for a time slice, whispering, "I'm worried about him."
The doors closed, leaving Voltron's leader alone, "So am I."
Slav finally blinked out of his daze and spoke, "Oh! Sorry, did you want to be alone?"
It wasn't until Vargas later that the Castle was quiet and the lights on it were all dimmed, an act meant to cater to the paladins circadian rhythm. Slav merely laid awake in his quarters and stared at the ceiling, never blinking. As multiple realities danced across his vision, Slav began to count them. He was at 3, 487 when there was a noise outside his bedroom. The former captive's hearts began to race as several scenarios began to form in this head at an even faster pace. A series of movements passed with absolute silence. After chalking it up to being one of the many strange sounds made by the ship at night, Slav finally closed his eyes and relaxed into his pillow.
His eyes snapped open. A chill abruptly ran down his spine as he slowly turned his gaze to his door once more. This time a pair if startling silver eyes pierced the cloak of darkness. As Slav's hearts flat lined he knew with absolute certainty that there was a 100% he was going to die. He had really been hoping that this was the turkey universe.