Across the bridge of the Galra warship, Shiro sees a man — himself, wearing the roughspun, indigo slave-garb, eyes as yellow-bright as raw powered quintessence — approaching him.
It can't be real.
"Everyone you love will burn," his hallucination states with a fierce, maniacal grin. "Accept it."
Shiro yells out, activating the Galra tech in his arm and powering up. It's in vain. He's swung around and crowded by himself, as if left defenseless.
"Accept me," Himself, with burning, awful eyes, with a thunderous voice, states again.
He grasps painfully at Shiro's face with those organic fingers, kissing him cruelly, hard enough for Shiro's teeth to clack against his copy's.
It feels like living, dying at the exact same time.
Voltron isn't mine. The true Shaladin ship is Shiro/Shiro(Kuron, whatever) and I STAND BY IT. FITE ME. lmao okay tysm for reading and any comments welcomed!