The first thing Keith felt when he came to was the aching crick in his neck, but he still wasn't strong enough to lift his own head. The second thing he felt was some sort of cold metal restraining his hands. The room was dim enough that it didn't make his headache worse, but bright enough that he had to blink a few times to adjust. From where his head laid on his chest, Keith could see that the bandage Shiro had wrapped around his hand was gone.

"So the half-breed awakens," a deep voice echoed from behind Keith.

Every instinct inside him was screaming, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get his body to respond.

The figure moved in front of Keith, roughly grabbing his jaw forcing his gaze upward. In front of him was a Galran Keith had never seen, but the image was menacing nonetheless. The Galran was tall- at least a foot and a half taller than Keith was- with fur covering his large, muscular body and a long tail that peeked out from behind him. His face was rough and mean, with bright yellow eyes that had no visible pupils. Around his hands were large iron fists, likely his weapon of choice.

"So, this is the next 'mighty emperor' of the Galra Empire," the figure growled. "Another half-breed who is nothing but a plague, a stain on an otherwise mighty race."

"I'm not the emperor of the Galra Empire," Keith replied, trying to pump as much venom into his gaze as possible. Pain erupted across Keith's face and neck as his head whipped to the side before being grabbed again by the Galran.

"You're right about that, but that's not what I'm interested in," the face in front of Keith broke into a sinister smile. "What I want to know is just how Galran you truly are. Prove your worth half-breed, so when they find your remains, the whole universe will remember the name 'Drule.'"

Keith attempted to come up with some snarky response, but, before he could get a word out, the Galran- Drule- plunged a syringe in his neck, injecting him with some strange liquid. At first nothing happened, but overtime Keith began to feel a heat increasing in his body. The hotter he got, the more pain he felt and the quicker his breathing until it was unbearable. Keith didn't even notice he was screaming until his voice was hoarse and his throat hurt more than the rest of his body.

Far more quickly than the pain came on, however, it stopped suddenly, leaving Keith breathless. Despite the exhaustion, he was finally able to support himself, looking up at Drule on his own. The Galran looked almost impressed with him.

"That could have killed you, but you metabolized it quite quickly. Perhaps you are more Galran than I gave you credit for," Drule once again grabbed Keith's face, examining him closely. "Take him," Drule commanded someone behind Keith. Another Galra appeared from behind the metal chair Keith was sitting in holding another syringe. Immediately, Keith began to struggle, hoping somehow he could get free or dodge the syringe as long as possible. Drule grabbed his head, forcefully wrenching it to the side and exposing his neck to the other Galran.

Keith's breathing slowed as he once again felt consciousness escaping him.

"Enjoy your sleep young champion," Drule's voice whispered in his ear. "Victory or death."

Keith didn't see anything in his dreams as he slept, but he heard a voice, Shiro's voice. Though he couldn't quite make out what he was saying, it was comforting to him anyway. He wondered what Shiro must have been doing in that moment. Was he aware that Keith had disappeared? Was he safe himself?

There was only so much time to consider these things as Shiro's voice faded and Keith slowly awoke. He was alone lying on the floor in a dark room. His cheek still stung slightly, and was likely extremely swollen, and the ache in his back was starting to bother him, but there was no trace of the fiery pain that had run through his veins earlier. Slowly getting control of his body, Keith got up from the floor and examined the room. There was only one exit in the room, opening to a long corridor that shared the same dim purple lighting.

Keith was apprehensive, but he knew that staying trapped in the room wouldn't do him any good, so he slowly made his way through the long corridor. Eventually, a bright light appeared on the other side and Keith crossed through. On the other side of the room, there was an exit, which Keith figured he should cross through. Before he even started, a loud bang resounded as a metal door came down, completely blocking the exit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith sensed movement, moving out of the way just in time to dodge an oncoming attacker. Immediately transitioning to battle mode, Keith's eyes landed on a sword stuck in the middle of the room. The other person must have noticed it too, switching to running toward the sword and trying to outpace Keith. At the last second, Keith jumped, lunging toward the sword and managing to grab it before pivoting and running his enemy through. The other person- whom Keith assumed must have been Galra based on his appearance- fell to the ground and didn't get up.

Keith looked around the room, wondering what exactly was happening, but he didn't have to wonder long as Drule's voice rang out from some sort of speaker.

"How do you like my arena, young champion? Adoris was a meek warrior who made his bid for the Galran throne. He never really stood a chance, but he's not the only one who wants his fair shot at the half-breed who cheated them out of the Kral Zera." As soon as Drule said that, the exit at the other side of the room opened and another Galran stepped into the arena, armed with a dagger.

"Do your best to win, so I can kill you myself, half-breed," Drule's voice rang out again. "Victory or death."

To Keith, it seemed a little more like death or death, but he supposed that was neither here nor there. He shifted his focus toward the enemy in front of him, trying to conserve as much energy as possible, not knowing how many more would follow. It didn't matter, his friends were coming to get him. Shiro was coming to get him.

The first few enemies were easily beaten. Each had a clear range disadvantage, and was clearly inexperienced when it came to battle, but each subsequent foe was stronger and stronger with better weapons, while Keith continued to get weaker and weaker. Keith considered himself to be quite the fighter, but even he found himself getting sloppier over time. It began with little things: allowing himself to get tackled to the ground- worsening his back injury- his arms and legs accumulating cuts and slashes. Eventually his mistakes got bigger: his grip on his sword weakening to the point where he lost it multiple times, the cuts getting deeper, punches landing. At some point, his clothes had become so damaged that they didn't even provide a fraction of what they once did. Finally, Keith met an enemy he couldn't beat.

The blood dripping from his arms made his grip on his sword even worse, the sweat from his forehead and his bangs sticking to it made it hard to see, and it took active effort to keep his enemy in focus as his vision continually blurred. The enemy ran at Keith, swinging his own sword. Keith attempted to parry it, but his whole body screamed at him and he lost the strength, crying out as he was more than grazed along his ribs. He fell to the ground, gripping his side. He had to get up again, if he didn't he knew he was as good as dead. He managed to get to his feet, but his stance was too unsteady to block any attacks. Regardless, Keith prepared himself to black the attack or endure it, whichever came first.

The Galra ran at him again, coming closer, closer, closer… Keith closed his eyes despite himself, but the blow never came. He looked up to see the tip of a sword glinting right in front of his face, it was covered in blood, but Keith belatedly realized it wasn't his, it was his enemy's. The sword was pulled out of his enemy, allowing him to fall away and revealing Drule standing behind him.

"I must say, I'm far more impressed than I thought I'd be. Of course, these were far from the Galra's mightiest warriors." Drule smiled cockily as if he'd done Keith some grand favor by not sending stronger warriors. For Keith, his judgment completely went out the window. If Drule was going to kill him, there was nothing he could do about it now. Keith hated the Galra in front of him so much. Even through the exhaustion, he felt it with every fiber of his being. He spat at Drule before releasing all his frustration.

"What is wrong with you people?!" He suddenly exploded from his place on the floor, rising to his feet and moving toward Drule. "Knowledge or death, victory or death, sandwich or death, I'm so freaking sick of it!"

Once again, Drule allowed a look that was a strange mix of pride and incredulity grace his face. Before Keith even realized, Drule turned away from Keith before whipping back around, landing a punch squarely to Keith's gut. Keith cried out, falling to his knees and doubling over. After all this time, there was nothing in his stomach, but he still heaved until blood came up. Keith hadn't even caught his breath when he felt himself being lifted and carried away by Druel. Eventually, they came to another room. Druel stripped him to nothing but his undergear, dropping Keith on the floor before kicking him further into the chamber.

"Consider yourself lucky; I've determined you're just not Galra enough to be worth killing myself, my emperor," Drule said mockingly before shutting the door behind him and casting Keith in almost total darkness.

At first glance, the room seemed completely normal. There was a chill in the air that Keith hadn't felt in any other part of the building and the walls of the room were lined with a shimmery frost that caught what little light there was, but it was otherwise totally empty with nothing that seemed even remotely capable of killing Keith the way Drule had promised. Slowly, Keith stood. He was unsteady and shaking uncontrollably, and spots danced in his eyes, but it was the last act of defiance that he could muster. He moved toward the door, which was obviously locked, but he still had to try it.

"Hey… let me out!" Keith pounded on the door as weakly as he shouted. Every part of him hurt. When it became clear that his efforts were more useless than he'd already imagined, Keith moved to the back of the room, attempting to use what little light was shining though to assess his wounds.

Multiple cuts, at least a couple fractured ribs and bones, and his lack of shirt revealed a mottled purple forming across his stomach that he didn't like; but he told himself it was okay, because his friends were coming any second. He just had to hold on a little longer because Shiro was coming to get him. Struggling to hold himself up, Keith leaned against the wall. He knew he had to stay vigilant, but his body was beginning to fail him. He blinked away the sting that suddenly arose in his eyes. Now wasn't the time to cry.

Keith hadn't quite realized it since he was shaking from his injuries, but the room seemed to be getting colder and, with it, his eyelids grew heavier. Keith searched his mind until he remembered something the Blades had once told him: Galra, especially those without fur, were particularly susceptible to the cold. Without his Blade uniform, the increasing cold in the room would easily kill him before any of his injuries ever did.

No, he told himself. He had to stay awake, had to stay alive, but his legs were shaking, weakening by the moment, his head was pounding, and he was just so tired. Slowly, Keith made his way forward, moving toward the door again, but he only managed a few steps before his legs finally gave out. He fell to the floor, barely catching himself. As a sob finally made its way through his mouth, Keith realized the worst injury he had yet to account for: the fire in his eyes was dying. Keith kneeled down, turning his back to the door, trying to control his breathing or at least stop the tears, but nothing seemed to work.

Once again, Keith found himself wondering how he got into this mess. Afterall, he didn't even want to be emperor of the stupid Galra. He didn't want to be Galra at all.

Eventually, his sobbing subsided, and somewhere in his brain Keith registered that he wasn't shaking anymore. Vision blurring, Keith swayed slightly before falling over, laying on his right side, back still to the door.

"Shiro…" Keith uttered silently as his eyes shut, finally letting the cold take him.

Perhaps things would be better in his dreams.