The Battle Against the Darkness - Voltron

✧Chapter Two✧

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  ✧Lance✧   
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The night of July 29th seemed completely normal. Lance McClain, a Cuban male with an unforeseeable future, had just become eighteen years old the day before that. Even though he was officially an adult, he still struggled in making seemingly easy choices. While all of his friends were going off to awesome colleges, Lance was playing Guitar Hero in his parents' basement. When he wasn't on his parents' property, he worked a dead end job as a cashier in a grocery store called ShopCity. During his working hours, he constantly dealt with crazy old men, crying children, and middle-aged school teachers who thought that ShopCity would have actually sold nice clothing. Not even the uniform was anywhere close to decent! The neon yellow vest he had to wear was incredibly ugly, and the fabric made his skin itch.

Since his job had exhausted the male so much, especially the part of his afternoon shift that was between two and three o'clock, he always ended up going straight to his home when he worked the hours required for a salary. He even did that on his birthday, but the cake that his máma baked for him made up for any fun he might have missed out on; her recipes were simply scrumptious, and she learned many of them from her own mother. Even when it was the night after he legally became an adult, he still followed the same schedule. Therefore, as soon as he returned from work, he hung up his uniform and plopped down onto his bed. As he had done so, he noticed something quite odd.

He originally assumed that his hand was simply very sweaty. However, the liquid that escaped his palm was cold, and the home itself was quite frigid as well. At first, it was simply dismissed by the boy, for he thought it was a strange reaction that his sweat had to the cold air of his bedroom. He wasn't exactly knowledgable about science. As a method of getting the assumed sweat off of his palm, he wiped his hand on his bare leg (he was only wearing boxers at the moment). Nonetheless, the liquid had come back almost immediately.

He constantly wiped his hand against his thigh. Still, the water kept coming back, causing concern to fill Lance's body. As he tried to find a solution to his predicament, the male's cerulean eyes darted back and forth for anything that seemed useful. Notwithstanding his efforts, he couldn't find anything at all. Worry was clouding his mind, causing a massive headache to emerge. He started wondering if he was ill with an undiagnosed condition.

Since he was so horrified, Lance darted from one end of his bedroom to the other, grabbing his cell phone from the table. Since his left hand (his dominant one) was soaked, he clumsily grabbed his iPhone with his right hand, quickly opening Google. He made many typos when he researched his symptoms, causing him to rewrite his searches over and over. Eventually, he landed on a medical website, which exclaimed that profusely sweating was a sign of a condirion called hyperhydrosis. It didn't seem right, and there was no way that Lance would have read the entire article on its symptoms.

Suddenly, the transparent liquid on his palm started trickling down even more quickly, dripping onto the carpeted floor within seconds. With his dry hand, he tried to shake open his door, but using the knob was not easy for the non-dominant hand. Now, the water was coming down with an even stronger force, and a gray cloud had emerged underneath his palm. This was definitely not medical.

He stopped attempting to open the door, then he placed his dry hand under the one that displayed a miniature raincloud. He stared at the continuously generated droplets of water in awe, stopping his attempt at having it end. Next, he balled his knuckles into a fist, and the rain had vanished. As the hours passed, Lance continuously opened and closed his hand with a grin on his face. Watching the rain leave his palm was oddly amusing.

He had experimented with his self-made rain cloud for three days, but he was only able to control it by opening and closing his fist. Therefore, he pretended to be ill, causing him to use his job's provided sick days. He had fun with experimenting with his tiny raincloud, and he even dreamed about this unusual magic when he slept. However, this magical mystery had become something that had completely changed his fate.