Thoughts Are Louder In Silence

Chapter 7

Lance lay on his bed, blankly staring up at the ceiling. Today was a free day, and he didn't have anything to do. Just lay around stuck with his own thoughts; one of the worst things possible for him. 

He turned to his side, staring at the wall now. He felt lifeless, heavy bags layiing under his eyes, his face a bit sunken in. He had lost yet more weight, much to his teammates' dismay. Still, no matter how much they urged or prodded, he refused to tell them what was wrong. 

He just didn't know how to tell them. How in the world were you supposed to up and say you were practically dying from depression and paranoia because enemy prince was tormenting you in your sleep? Yeah, you didn't. 

Huffing, Lance sat up, rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood, swaying a bit as he went to his bathroom. Only putting a little effort into it, he splashed water on his face, staring at his reflection. 

He told himself that nothing had changed, that he was still himself in every way. No matter how much he wanted to tell himself that at least, he couldn't convince himself. His sunken face, eye bags, tired eyes, pale skin, and very thin frame said otherwise. And that was just his physical appearance. 

His mental health was worse than his physical health as far as he could tell. Jumping at every sound, insomnia, being afraid of the dark, almost breaking down every time he heard or saw deep water. 

He hated himself for it.

He hated that he couldn't just fight back, or not be bothered by it. He hated that he was afraid, afraid of something he couldn't touch, couldn't see, couldn't hear outside his mind. He hated that he was so affected by it when, as far as he knew, the Lotor inside his mind wasn't the same as the Lotor of the Galran Empire. 

He sighed, tearing his gaze away from the mirror and tugging his jacket closer around himself. Shuffling his feet, he left his room, out into the hallway. It was quiet, seemingly more-so than usual to him. The grey walls seemed even more dull, unchanging as they continued to support the castle, as strong as ever; unlike Lance, save for the dull part.

Glumly, he trudged through the halls, having no particular destination in mind; he was just wandering, not really caring where he went. He walked past the dining room, the training room, the bridge, the lounge, and far beyond the parts of the castle in regular use.

Eventually, he found himself in the lower levels, where no one had been in centuries. A dust of sorts covered the floors and walls, giving everything a strange blue glow. He hoped that whatever it consisted of wasn't poisonous to humans.

Curious, he dragged a finger through it, frowning at how thick it was. Disgustingly, it felt sticky to the touch, and he quickly wiped his hand on his jeans, cringing. He figured that whatever it was, it wasn't healthy and shouldn't be there, making a mental note to tell Coran.

A room off to the side caught his attention, the only door on the floor that was active. He took slow, long steps as he approached it, trying not to get the space dust on him. Covering his hand with his sleeve, he activated it, wondering why it needed to be touched to open unlike the other doors.

Tilting his head, he walked inside, blinking at how bright it was. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust after the darkness of the hallways, rubbing at them; probably not a good idea after getting the space dust on his hand, he realized.

That aside, his mouth fell open at the contents of the room, causing him to immediately break out into a coughing fit as he inhaled a bunch of the space dust. Glowing, jagged crystals were sprouting from the walls, the metal warped and sharp where they'd pierced through.