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Stretched by time into starlight, Shiro begins to fade. His existence is, and has been for a long time, more of an amalgam of consciousness, thought, and vague emotion than anything solid. He still managed to make contact with Keith, however, which is all that mattered in the end.
Keith, Shiro thinks, remains the most solid thing Shiro knows. Putting all his remaining energy into reaching Keith, helping him connect with the Black Lion, to see him on the same plane of existence again was worth everything. Shiro feels his life energy, kept separate by the indomitable will of the Black Lion for all this time, finally begin to flow and mix with the quintessence that exists all around him as the Black Lion touches down, Keith's exit the last thing Shiro knows before he finds himself completely in the astral plane again, cut off from the living world again for the final time. He loses track of himself, surrounded with his memories of contacting Keith again. How long has it been, Shiro wonders, recalling the broad expanse of Keith's shoulder, how long has he been dead.
Suddenly, the Black Lion roars in his head, a wave of powerful determined energy Shiro feels more than hears pushing him into Allura’s waiting hands. The Black Lion’s comforting presence fades away from Shiro for the first time in ages. Flashes of memory like spastic holographs waver in front of his vision, of a young Altean, of an unresponsive Lance, of endless flowers before he’s moving, flowing into another place that’s familiar yet wrong.
Shiro clenches his right hand, doesn’t hear the telling click of Galran metal tapping metal and knows he’s still beyond the physical realm. He sees nothing until he sees something, someone standing in front of him.
Shiro’s initial thought is that he sees himself, he sees the twisted illusion of himself he’s fought in his mind before, until he recognizes the slight differences, the haircut done by a hand that doesn’t possess the years of experience Shiro’s had with his own body. The missing arm. The ever-so-slightly wrongness of a version of himself he’s known only in passing.
Shiro pauses for a moment, trying to remember how to form words that aren’t filled with his regrets. “You… you’re-“
The other version of himself stares back, shock radiating from his body as they both stand there, staring at each other in a void.
“You’re… me?” The other Shiro’s voice tentatively breaks the silence, his eyes darting over Shiro’s body disbelievingly.
“W-what happened?” The other Shiro asks. “Where’s Keith?”
The name comes out softly, filled with worry. Shiro can’t resist the slight smile that comes out as he tries to find the words he needs.
“Keith…” Shiro starts, slowly finding his voice to answer the most important question. “Keith is okay. He made it back in time to save the team after rescuing you.” The man wearing his face visibly jerks and gasps as he remembers, his remaining hand flying up to grab his head. Shiro watches as his imposter falls to his knees, unbalanced.
Shiro wants to say how proud he is of Keith, of his entire team for winning such a grueling fight without any version of himself, how much Shiro wishes he could have helped, but the other Shiro is shaking, falling to pieces in front of him.
“I-I almost killed…” Shiro’s imposter chokes out the words as he trembles on his knees, and Shiro gains a moment of ice cold clarity that stabs into his fractured understanding of the living world.
“What did you do? I saw… bits and pieces but-“ Shiro begins, hesitant before being cut off.
“They’re all alive? You’re sure?” The other Shiro interrupts him, looking up to him, his voice barely there but pleading all the same. Shiro doesn’t quite manage the comforting smile he’s aiming for, the edges jagged with confusion and a lack of practice, but he tries.
“The others made it. Everyone’s alive.” Shiro says softly as he gingerly places his hand on the other’s shaking shoulder. “You didn’t kill anyone.”
The other Shiro lets out a trembling breath, his eyes closing in relief. A minute, or a moment, or a tick, some measure of time passes that Shiro has long since lost his grasp on goes by in silence, the two of them lost in their own thoughts. Shiro spares a moment to notice that he has both of his arms here, while this other version of himself only has the one. He wonders if this other version of him couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Who are you?” The other Shiro asks eventually, lifting his head to meet Shiro’s eyes.
Face-to-face with himself, Shiro realizes that for all they are the same, he doesn’t know this man at all. Certainly, Shiro allowed this… clone of himself to pilot the Black Lion out of necessity, but hasn’t spared him a thought beyond the tendrils of dread that wind their way around his throat when he thinks of how even in death, the Galra empire controls every piece of him that remains.
“I’m Shiro, but-“ Shiro pauses. “I think you already know that.” The other Shiro shakes his head, no, no, no, no.
“But I- how- what does that make me?” The other Shiro asks, tongue tripping over itself in disbelief. Shiro's almost afraid to answer. He thinks he knows the answer, but like most answers he's come to lately, Shiro realizes that it will only bring this other bizarre version of himself pain. But this clone, this version of himself deserves the truth for once in its existence, Shiro thinks.
“I think- Haggar must have done-“ Shiro slowly starts, then sees the moment his other self gets it, eyes blazing with fear.
“No. No, that’s- that's insane.” Shiro's clone says, more certain than Shiro himself is about his current state of existence.
“I wish that were true, but-“ Shiro starts, but the air, dead and frozen before, begins to glow, infused with the light of Altean alchemy that pulls on his soul. Allura, Shiro realizes, his head jerking upwards. She’s doing something, and that’s the last calm thought Shiro manages before-
Suddenly, Shiro exists. He jerks up, coughing and gasping as he tries to remember how to breath. Everything aches, he’s missing an arm, he has no idea where he is, the sun is glaring against his eyes, he's hot, he can't breath, and he's feeling every sensation and every inch of a body all at once. Shiro is directly attached to a body and his mind can’t seem to handle the reconnect, falling against Keith and- Keith. Keith found him, somehow. Somehow Keith brought him back. That’s the thought that sticks in the rapidly churning gears of his mind as the lions roar all around him, the one thought he needs to get out.
“You found me.”
The beginnings of a smile form on Keith's face before Shiro can say another word, and suddenly Shiro is pulled back under, unable to fight the overload of existence. Shiro feels someone else pushing against him, trying to grab hold of this body as they pull him back into the darkness.