The attack on Zarkon's stronghold that they had coordinated with the Blades had worked out better than Shiro had ever dared to hope. The fortress floating through space was on fire. The void of space snuffed out the explosions when the Blades who had infiltrated the place set off their bombs but even then, they did their job. Once the hull was breached, everything inside was sucked out… and Shiro wondered how much of the debris in the distance were people. How many of those people were their allies? Had they done this knowing they would die?

Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. We do not share your species cowardly need for self-preservation. A soldier may perish but the kingdom lives on.

Shiro looked around wildly? Where had that voice come from? How could he hear that… inside his Lion?

Not your Lion, pretender. I will now take back what belongs to me.

Something was moving inside the burning castle. Something big… and it did not wait for the cargo hold doors to open. The armor that flew out of the inferno… Shiro could have laughed at the sight of it if he hadn't feared what it was capable of. It had been designed in Zarkon's image and told him everything he needed to know of the emperor's ego and vanity.

"Everyone! Form Voltron!" Shiro ordered.

When the Lions became one to form the most powerful weapon in the universe, it wasn't just their vessels that came together. He could feel them all. Keith. Pidge. Lance. Hunk. Almost like the other pilots were… extensions of himself. What they felt, he felt and in return he shared himself with them until Voltron became just one hive mind. Piloting something like Voltron would have been impossible otherwise. Five became one.

Zarkon's armor was carried by wings that burned with purple fire and Shiro couldn't help but wonder… was it faster than Voltron? When a flaming sword appeared in its hand, he realized the secret of its speed. Somehow Zarkon had figured out a way to power the armor with the Black Bayard. Just like the Black Lion was the most formidable of the pack, the Black Bayard was the most dangerous of all their weapons. Even when they raised a shield, Zarkon's blow left him numb and he his teammates pain washed over him.

Come. I want to speak to you. Face to face. Like men.

When the next blow came down, the world turned dark for a moment. When he could see again, Shiro found himself standing in a throne room spanning galaxies. Bones of dead planets had been used to carve a seat of power that was supported by reanimated slaves with glowing yellow eyes.

And above it all sat Zarkon.

The monster cut as impressive of a figure as you could expect from someone who had brought the entire universe to heel. Eight feet tall. Maybe more. The dark purple armor highlighting the powerful build earned from years of battle. The gray face could have been carved from wood and the scars on it might as well have been trophies. In his hand he held the Black Bayard.

"Welcome, Shiro. I welcome you." Zarkon said from his throne.

Shiro looked around but saw no one else besides the undead slaves. He still had his battle armor… and his bionic arm. His last resort.

"Another of Haggar's tricks?"

"No need for that this time. Unlike with your son we are connected through the Black Lion. My old friend. She has grown conflicted." Zarkon said, sounding like he was talking of an old lover.

Zarkon pushed himself up and stood above the universe that had been laid at his feet. An evil god might have looked like that.

"You were wondering at my people's willingness to die for victory. You should not. Can you grasp the force of will that it took me to bring my people back from the brink after our planet was destroyed? Do you know how long we were the underdogs? Yet, we rose and took what was our right by conquest. The universe itself."

Shiro made a fist.

"And you think that make it your plaything?"

Zarkon grinned.

"The universe is a trophy for the strong." Zarkon said and laughed: "Why are you looking at me like that? You honestly think you're a match for me, pretender? Me? The conqueror of death? Here's my offer. Return the Black Lion to me and I will allow you and your friends be my vassals. When I have Voltron, there will be no more need for war. With Voltron, there will be peace in the universe."

Shiro put all contempt he could muster into a single look.

"Zarkon… even if the Black Lion was something I could just give away; she would never return to you."

Zarkon's cheek twitched.

"Oh? How so?"

"Look at yourself. Emperor? Conqueror of death? You're neither. You're not even a soldier anymore. You're just a junkie looking for a fix. Coran told me all about Quintessence… and what overexposure can do. You're just an addict now. I'd pity you if you hadn't hurt so many."

Zarkon didn't laugh him off or brush him aside with a snarky comeback. He just attacked.

The fight should have been over in seconds.

After ten thousand years of war, Zarkon was easily the greatest fighter who had ever lived. Everything Shiro could do, Zarkon could do better. He was faster. Stronger. Far more skilled. In the physical world it would have been no match, but this was a battle of minds. Will against will.

Like all addicts Zarkon was driven by a hunger. A terrible need that eventually consumed every junkie until the hunger was all that mattered. No line would be too far to cross. No action too terrible to commit. Not as long as the hunger was controlling him.

But what was that hunger next to the entire universe?

He could feel it. The universe itself riding on his back. Trusting him to finish this. How could Zarkon ever hope to push him back when the universe was weighing him down? But… that wasn't all. Every time he looked at the biconical arm crafted into his stump, he remembered the gladiator pits. Those long, sleepless nights when he wondered what horrors he would face the next day. All the lives he had taken. All the friends he had lost. All those previous champions who had been like him.

The bionic arm clashed with Zarkon's Bayard.

The sparks almost blinded him, but he could make out the look of shock on Zarkon's face. He had expected to cleave his enemy in half and now… doubt had taken root in Zarkon's mind. Just that looked made that long journey here worth it.

Metal began heating when his arm grinded against Zarkon's Bayard. Neither of them would budge. Zarkon's hunger wouldn't let him and too much was at stake for Shiro to let a chance like this go. They were trapped in a death match and the metal in their weapons began to turn red from the heat. He could feel his skin sizzle were the flesh connected with steel. He ignored the pain. The first thing you learned in the pits. Pain was a distraction. Victory or death.

A crack appeared in the Bayard.

"… no." Zarkon whispered.

The pressure turned the Black Bayard into ice and the cracks started climbing towards the handle. Zarkon could only stare as the impossible happened. The unbreakable weapon had been cracked.

Then it broke.

Burning hot metal shards pierced Zarkon's face and he stumbled backwards blinded by pain and his own blood. It ran cold. Shiro did not give him time to recover and closed in to make the kill. Victory or death! Zarkon peeked at him between his fingers… and there was a flash of fear in the glowing eyes.

"No!"

A powerful gust of wind hit him in the chest and pushed him back with enough force that he slammed his head against his seat when he opened his eyes in the Black Lion's cockpit. Was someone… calling his name?

"Shiro?!" Keith screamed through the intercom.

Shiro shook his head to clear his mind. How long had he been out of it? Seconds? Less? More?

"I'm okay, Keith. I'm okay." Shiro said and glared at Zarkon's armor: "Let's finish this."

When Zarkon came at them with his armor, he wasn't driven just by his hunger but his wounded pride as well. In a battle of wills, the conqueror of death had come up short. When his mind betrayed him, Zarkon fell back on overwhelming them with force. He might have been a shadow of himself after being plagued by the hunger for ten thousand years but when his flaming sword struck their shield, the difference in power was unthinkable. Zarkon knew his weapon better than anyone and every monitor in Voltron screamed the same warnings. They wouldn't be able to take this for much longer. If this kept up… they would die.

Shiro thought of Keith. Of the promise he had made to Kolivan and not just to Kolivan. To himself as well. He looked at the head of Zarkon's armor were the cockpit was located. They were practically face to face.

"Everyone! Break up on my signal and flee!" Shiro commanded.

"But…" Keith protested.

"Do it!"

When Zarkon raised his sword for another strike, Shiro saw his opportunity.

"Now!"

Zarkon stumbled when Voltron disassembled before his eyes and fled in all corners of the wind. All but one. The Black Lion was still right before his eyes. He had an open path to Zarkon and Shiro blasted forward at full force towards the head. Victory or death! He hit the head like a bullet and tore through it like one too… until he saw Zarkon. Strapped into the cockpit the mad emperor's face was a mask of impotent rage and he slashed at him with the Black Bayard. Even with the Black Lion guarding him the flash of pain was more terrible than anything Shiro had ever felt but he was far past caring.

He opened fire.

A hail of bullets struck Zarkon and for a moment his armor held but only for a moment. The Bayard slipped from his fingers when his body was torn to pieces and cast out into the emptiness of space. While Shiro watched Zarkon float away, the Black Lion opened its maw and swallowed the Black Bayard.

At long last he held the Black Bayard in his hands. It felt right. It was the only thing that felt right. So much pain… so much blood. He could taste it with every breath.

"… home… take me home." Shiro coughed.


Keith stood vigil with his friends outside the Castle's sickbay when Allura and Coran tried to save Shiro's life. It was a long and arduous battle. They almost won.


Haggar meditated in her chapel with her fellow sorcerers and tried to make sense of what had happened. Zarkon was… gone. Destroyed. Her masters greatest champion had been killed like so many others. Which meant she was running out of options.

"Summon prince Lotor."