Changed

I'm Not Sorry

They were trapped, it seemed. The Galra soldiers had them cornered and there were no escape points. Lance shot down a few senturies, trying to stall for time while Shiro came to evacuate Keith and him. More and more Galra flooded the room, seeming as if when Lance or Keith took down one soldier, five more would arrive.

In the blindness of fear, Lance failed to notice when Keith was captured. He had made one little mistake, but there was no chance of recovery. Lance froze; Keith was their best hand-on-hand fighter. Lance was more specialized in long-range attacks. But a selfishly selfless idea came to mind; he could save his team mate.

"Stop," he muttered. He repeated himself, voice increasing in volume this time. "Let him go. Take me instead. I'll go willingly. It'll be a much easier capture, just let Keith go back. Please." The last part came out as more of a plea than anything else. He hadn't meant for his voice to wobble the way it did, but he had grown close to his team and seeing any of them in pain caused him to lose his confidence.

Keith began to reject the idea when one of the more unsightly soldiers yanked Lance's arms behind his back and cuffed them together. Lance knew it was an act of ediface, lessening his own pain and giving Keith loads of guilt. He knew Pidge would stay up at night trying to find his location, barely getting any rest. Hunk would spend weeks stress cooking through puffy eyes. Dispite this, though, it comforted Lance knowing that they'd be safe. He would do it for them.

As they dragged him off, he heard the troops slightly retreat as the other paladins arrived on the scene. Keith stood still, trying to process what had just happened, with tears in his eyes.

Lance's vision went dark as the soldier hit him square in the forehead with the butt of his gun.

------

When he awoke, his head was pounding. His limbs were tied down to a table in an almost empty room. The magenta glow of the lights stung his eyes. Slowly, the events leading up to now came back to him. He willing gave himself to the Empire. He had no idea what they planned to do with him. They could kill him, torture him, but as long as Voltron remained strong, it was fine. If Keith had been captured, the team would crumble. He was the strongest and emo-est one of the group.

Along with that thought, a druid presented themself in the room. The made no hesitation before blasting him with who-knows-what. He didn't want to die, he was only a young adult. He wished he had told his mama that he loved her when he could.

Blast after blast came, each making Lance feel more light headed. The pain was harsh and stung like knives each time. Each hit caused him to feel a bit more empty. It was an unexplainable emptiness-the kind you feel when you hear a distant family member died. It washed over him in waves. He wasn't sure how long it went on, waves of pain from druid after druid.

At some point, he slept. He wasn't sure when, but at some point rest crashed over him. The night was dreamlessly dreary and he still felt tired when the purple lights turned on in the morning. He was sick of purple, the color coating every aspect of the foreign ship. It burned itself into his brain.

A druid, of a seemingly higher rank, entered. They rested their hand on Lance's shoulder, asserting a sense of authority over the boy. Their cold eyes stared into his, causing the boy to whimper. Something about the emotionless expression on their mask caused him to freeze.

They grabbed a vial of a blue substance that had small white specks in it. They emptied it into his mouth, the liquid causing him to feel more trusting with this person, despite what instinct told hin.
When they spoke, their words came out like molasses. Their voice was scratchy, as if it hadn't been used in a few days. They began devaluing Lance, twisting his memories. This went on for what seemed like hours. Hours turned into days. He began to believe what they said. It seemed right.

Voltron was a band of corrupt heretics going against the Empire. They destroyed everything the Galra worked for. They hurt Lance and made him the seventh wheel. The only reason they kept him around was because of his lion. Why hadn't he seen it before? It all made sense.

He belonged to the Galra. He promised his mama that he'd to right, and this seemed right to him at the moment.

-----

He'd been working for the Galra Empire for months. He climbed up in the ranks after he was recruited. He showed allegiance to Zarkon, so he became a soldier.

It was finally time to go on his first mission as a soldier. He alarms blasted throughout the halls. He located the enemies, sneaking in the ship to free prisoners. The green paladin whispering something to the others. They didn't miss him because he wasn't of use anymore.

As he and his fellow guards entered the room, the paladins readied their bayards for battle. They were strong, that he would admit. They fought relentlessly until he was the only one of the group of soldiers left. He was firing a blaster from the shadows, keeping cover to attack.

He emerged from the shadows, his visor locking onto the targets. His footsteps were uncoordinated and quick as he danced around their attacks. Eventually, the red paladin had him pinned.

"Tell us where the blue paladin is. Now." That caught Lance off guard. This was a ploy, a mind game to get him to retreat. He spoke no response as the paladin repeated his demands. When he chose silence again, Keith punched his helmet, sending it flying across the room.

The shocked faces on the paladins didn't surprise Lance. They hadn't expected to be fighting the one they were looking for. Lance tried to free his hands, glaring at Keith. They knew something was wrong.

Pidge walked up to the scene. She spoke softly, but clearly. "Lance, why?" Her eyes were tearing up. Lance snarled at her, seeming like a wild animal in a small cage.

"This isn't our Lance. Our Lance isn't a dirty Galra soldier. Our Lance is gone."

And before he could say anything, Lance saw black for the final time.