Chapter Text
King Alfor of Altea stood tall and resolute at the end of everything.
It was neither pride nor righteous conviction that stiffened his spine, but the pressing knowledge that there was still much to be done before the end. A staggering mental task-list he was constantly prioritizing and refining. Discarding what he could to insure everything that needed to be done would be in the limited time he had.
Zarkon was fast approaching. The fleet Alfor had ordered to delay him outside of the solar-system was destroyed. The entire might of the Altean Space Fleet, reduced to rubble in space. But it had delayed Zarkon’s inevitable attack on Altea itself.
Above all else, his former friend and fellow Paladin could not be allowed to get a single Lion. Especially not the Black Lion. Zarkon obtaining the full might of Voltron itself was unthinkable.
On that front, he had done everything he could. Used every resource available. As many combat-able ships that Altea had to delayed Zarkon enough. Barely. The Black Lion was sealed and safe-guards in place to insure Zarkon could not call his Lion to his side, and his friend - Stars, was it even Zarkon anymore? Or something from the other side of the Rift wearing his body and using his memories? - would not easily be able to access the Head of Voltron.
Easier to think of Zarkon as dead. His friend was gone and now something else walked in his form. The Zarkon he had known, worked alongside and called friend, despite his flaws, would never have ordered the slaughter of an entire people. Especially innocents and children. Even for vengeance of the destruction of his own solar system.
In the distance came the blaring sounds and flashing lights of the alarms from the castle beyond the Command Deck. Rather than flood him with a sense of urgency, they only filled him with a heavy sense of resignation.
The Exalted Altean Sovereignty was at its end. His people were dead, or would soon be. The hundreds scattered throughout the universe would most likely be found and killed.
His looked at his daughter’s slumbering form from where he had placed her in one of the chairs. The alchemic energy he had used to put Allura to sleep would hold for as long as he needed it to. Long enough to get her to the cryopods. Long enough ensure at least she would survive.
Allura, I’m so sorry. He wouldn’t ask her for her forgiveness. Not for the situation they were in now. He certainly was not going to ask for Allura’s forgiveness for whatever situation she found herself in when she awoke. There was so much Alfor could not control, so many variables that changed rapidly every second. He had no idea what type of universe Allura would find when she awoke in the future.
He did not expect her forgiveness for forcing his decision upon her.
Despite the uncertainty - however much she might even come to hate him - he would not regret giving her a chance to live. Not for forcing her into slumber so he could put her in cryostasis to escape guaranteed death. Even when his head-strong daughter clearly rather fight. If he lost his her regard because she believed he lost hope and gave up, so be it. Allura would live.
As emotionally compromised and young as she was - not quite willing to accept the true extent of their situation - she mistook denial for hope. Desperate as she was, she dismissed all her knowledge of how the Lions truly worked for the idea that they could simply form Voltron and save the day.
She was terrified, and wasn’t that was his greatest failure of all? A father whose own daughter watched as their entire space fleet – as so many of their people – were killed while they could only watch. Alfor couldn’t protect his home, couldn’t protect his people, and his only means to protect his daughter was to hope time itself would give her some kind of advantage.
“Are the cryopods back online?” He asked as he returned to work on the Command Deck’s computers. He would not be returning here, and he had a few more things to set up.
Coran turned off the rest of the castle alarms before he responded, making the halls and castle turn eerily silent. “Yes.” It hurt Alfor to see his oldest friend like this. Subdued and as broken as Alfor felt. But neither of them could succumb to their emotions now. Coran had would have the luxury of time later. Time to grieve, hopefully time for his friend to recover.
Alfor needed to be optimistic about the future.
There was so much to do. The planetary defenses were already activated, they would slow down Zarkon more. The Radiant Arcs, huge constructs suspended in orbit around Altea, often puzzled outsiders as to their true purpose beyond being an architectural and technological marvel. They were masterpieces of alchemy created long ago during the Golden Age of Oriande and put in place to protect the Altean home world. A partial barrier to encompass all of Altea. They would fall to the might and fury of Zarkon’s fleet, but they would delay him.
It seems all Alfor was able to do was delay him.
He needed to get Allura to the stasis chamber. Leave his final instructions to Coran and a few parting words to his long-time friend. Alfor needed to stop by the central hanger to check over the transports that would take Red, Green, Yellow and Blue Lions and the teams who would seal them away. Check in with the alchemists he had chosen to seal the Lions. He needed to use his alchemy to leave an imprint of himself as an AI.
Alfor looked up at the screens, confirming the energy the Castle of Lions had and that status of its own defenses and –
His eyes fell onto a screen, listing lines and lines of the designations of the ships in the Altean Space Fleet. When the Altean fleet had headed out to intercept Zarkon, those lines had been white names on cyan backgrounds. Now they were black names on pink. Hundreds of ships, each host from hundreds to thousands of Alteans needed to run it or man the fighters for close combat.
The dreadnought listed at the top was the flagship of the entire fleet. The largest ship in the universe. It had a crew large enough to populate a bursting megalopolis and its own fleet of fighters. Further down was the carrier he had been on when learning to pilot a fighter ship, the squadron commander at the time had been the best flyer in the entire fleet. Then the cruiser he knew Coran had been assigned to for his families required military service before they transferred into full time positions working directly for the royal family. Towards the bottom was the frigate he had preferred to commandeer – the blessings of kingship – when he had needed a ship but didn’t want the royal diplomatic vessel.
All the ships destroyed. All the crew dead.
How many of them knew? Alfor despaired. The sudden call to arms, scrambling to bring the fleet together and prepared for battle, had left little time for anything. How many of them believed – like his daughter - they had a chance?
How many had known that their King was sending them to their deaths to buy time? That Alfor had known there was no way to save the planet and its people. How many crewmembers of the fleet had cursed his name was their spaceships were blown apart? How many Altean’s stuck on Altea would curse his name as they were killed when the Galra fleet reached them? Would the Altean’s scattered through the galaxy hate him as they ran and tried to hide from hunters?
It was nothing less than he deserved. Alfor had knowingly ordered the fleet’s crews to their doom. So many lives lost. More to be ruined.
All because of Voltron, the comet that made it and the rift it had come from. “I should have flung the Trans-relay comet back into the Rift from whence it came.”
“Who could have known it would come to this?” Coran, always supportive, gestured to the Command Deck. To the screen tracking Zarkon’s progress, the one listing the destroyed Altean Fleet, and the dozens of others which all pointed to the same thing: the destruction of Altea and the doom of her citizens.
Alfor gave a bitter laugh. “When I let my curiosity and interest in alchemy get the better of my senses.” Because hadn’t there been so many signs they were in over their heads? “When we realized the comet was generating its own energy source without fuel? When we tried to overdraw to see what would happen if we drained it, and it reacted violently and overloaded the machine it was attached to and nearly killed the scientists working on it? Don’t forget the issues the Lions themselves brought up. When they refused to move for the test pilots or when some of our more sensitive alchemists reported they felt they were being watched and judged. That cursed Rift was even worst.”
He’d been warned, too. Warned by his old Alchemy teacher who had practically ordered they shove the comet back into the Rift and pray that would cause the Rift to seal. She had told Alfor she wanted nothing to do with his projects and went off world. Even her great-granddaughter and Alfor’s fellow alchemical student, Honerva, had been unable to find her again. At the time, both he and Honerva had felt she was being silly and dramatic. Perhaps insulted that Alfor had only offered her a consultant role rather than something more active. Now he regretted his immediate dismissal of her feelings and not considering why.
Alfor had thought he’d known better than her at that point. He was the first and only Altean who had found and been to Oriande in many generations. The first since its knowledge and location was lost to think it was more than a bedtime story and be rewarded for his belief and efforts.
When he had traveled to Oriande for the last time he’d felt the White Lion’s judgement and disapproval. “Take heed, child. Beware.” That was the last time he had been able to enter Oriande.
What secrets were in Oriande that he had overlooked or ignored?
“When we found an endless supply of Quintessence, both in the Trans-relay comet and the Rift, and never asked a simple question: Quintessence is most often found in living beings, so what had we found? The Lions, with their different personalities only drove that point home. When we never put in checks and had a third party outside the scientists working on the Comet or Rift who were removed and could give perspective. Or stop the experiments.” If they had done that, would Honerva not have…? Would Zarkon still be his friend and not this wrathful creature bent on destruction?
His people be going about their daily routine and not a frenzied panic to try and evacuate, hoping they might outrun the vengeance seeking Galra. Allura would be in her lessons or following him around, asking for him to share stories of Voltron and his fellow Paladins or his adventures before that.
Alfor squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself against the console as he leaned forward. Regret bubbled thick and cloying in his throat. Frustration at his own actions and inactions, both those he didn’t foresee as having consequences and those he brushed aside. Because now he was at the end, and his four greatest promises were in ruins. As a King his people and culture were about to be destroyed. As a father, Allura’s ultimate fate would be uncertain but certainly not easy. As a friend, he’d done little to insure Honerva was safe which had spiraled into where they were now with Zarkon lost. As a Paladin, he had failed to protect the universe from this.
“Alfor,” Coran came up behind him “You couldn’t have known. You can’t predict the future.”
Straightening was a chore. It was as if his spine was covered in rust and each section grated as it moved. Facing his childhood friend, Alfor felt hopeless frustration bubble up. “I didn’t know we would be here, no. But I also didn’t enact or follow up on what I did know until it was too late. I dismissed certain operational procedures because I thought I knew better and… and I didn’t want to deal with limitations.” Now, instead of limitations, he was dealing with annihilation of all he knew and cared for.
Coran offered no empty platitudes. Just a resolute presence Alfor knew he could rely upon.
“Let us get my daughter to the stasis chamber.”
-
Together they walked down the halls, Alfor holding Allura close. When was the last time he carried her? She’d still been so young. She still was, in so many ways.
The halls were so empty. Since the construction of the Castle of Lions, it had always been full of life. As the seat of the Exaulted Altean Sovereignty, and the home of the Royal Family, it had been the center of their government. Not only the Royal Family and members of government, but servants, courtiers and foreign diplomats had walked in these halls.
But early on they had turned on the alarms, sending all nonessential people out. Not long ago, Alfor had finally signaled for the Castle to be evacuated. Now it was only himself, Coran, Allura and the teams who would hide the Lions and seal them away.
The corridors they walked down were silent and without life. Like a tomb. It made Alfor uneasy to think that Allura and Coran would sleep here. “You remember where the emergency docking station is for the Castle?”
“Arus. Yes.” Coran’s eyes were running up and down the halls, flicking down the empty corridors they passed. He undoubtedly felt as uncomfortable as Alfor did at the silence. “It seemed silly at the time, having a place where we could hide the castle if needed.”
“And yet,” guilt thick on Alfor’s tongue, “here we are.” Coran’s grandfather had been a man of vision and drive. Alfor had respected his greatly for his engineering prowess and his foresight. Having an secret place to dock and hide the Castle-ship long term had seen unnecessary at first, with the might of the Exalted Altean Sovereignty being what it was.
Resources he had thought wasted at the time now held his hope for his daughter’s future.
The stasis chamber was deep in the castle. Frankly it was more of a vault. A small chamber built for a worst-case scenario, like now. Anyone without access would have to rip thought the entire castle to get to it. There was nowhere safer. There were other cryopods located in the medical ward, but this room was the most secure part of the castle. Very few knew of it, and fewer had access to it.
There were dozens of cryopods. Many out in the open around the walls of the chamber, but a few were retracted into the floor. One last security measure for the most important residents who might be preserved here. Enough pods to house the entire royal family, their chosen retinue, and a few of the highest ranking government officials.
Coran moved to the central access terminal to activated one of these pods now, causing it to rise from the floor so Alfor could settle his daughter into it.
Coran made a show of being busy with the screen, checking that everything was in order. Giving Alfor privacy with his daughter to say his goodbyes.
With Allura settled, Alfor took a moment. He would leave an Artificial Intelligence imprinted with his memories and personality for Allura when she woke up. But this would be the last time he would get to see and speak with his only child.
“I won’t ask for your forgiveness for forcing this upon you,” his voice was low and only for Allura’s ears. Even if she couldn’t hear him. “But I need you to live, even if you live to despise me.” His hand was trembling as he reached up to cup her face. “I hope you know I love you more than anything. I know when you awaken things will be different, and they will not be easy. But I hope you find happiness, safety and peace. People you care for and who care for you in turn. I hope you-“
Alarms blared and lights flashed in the hall outside causing Alfor to startle.
“Zarkon’s fleet is approaching Altea, they’ve just entered the solar system.” Coran said, stabbing at the holographic interface.
“How much time?” Alfor went over, trying to figure out how much he’d be able to do before he confronted whatever wore Zarkon’s face and spoke with his voice.
“A few vargas. The Radiant Arcs will buy us time. If they perform the way the records say they will and maintain a planetary barrier.”
“I have faith in our ancestor’s greatest creation. But they were only meant as a last resort to hold off a siege attack until the fleet could converge back upon the planet. They will not hold indefinitely.” Made at the height of Altean Alchemy, they had been made when there was more people able to use the Teludav technology. When the ships would cross the universe nearly instantly to come to Altea’s rescue.
Now reduced to just one more delay before the inevitable. Zarkon would make planet fall before the day was done.
Alfor was running out of time. His mind raced quickly, calculating. His lungs seized, “I don’t have enough time.”
Coran made a sound of panic. “You mean all of this was for nothing?”
“We will be able to proceed with the launch… but I have less time than I thought. I am not going to have enough time to create my AI, I still need to do a final check on the Lion’s teams.” That was the priority. The Lions had to be separated and sealed so finding them was a near impossibility.
When the news of the gathering, Galra fleet had come to Alfor from an off world Altean intelligence gather. While revenge for Daibazaal’s destruction might have been the driving force for Galra as a species, Alfor knew that Zarkon was really after Voltron. His call for vengeance was merely his rallying roar.
Zarkon was drawing on his link to the Black Lion, and through the Red Lion, Alfor had known.
To have our bonds as Paladins used against each other.
“I can do it,” Coran’s soft, but decisive voice broke through Alfor’s thoughts. Alfor looked at his friend as he finished and closed down the holographic window he had been working on. “You already instructed the Alchemists in how to seal the Lions, didn’t you? What really needs to be done is a final check-in. I can do that as easily as you. You focus on the AI.”
Unable to speak as the truth of his limited time – his limited life – was pressing in on him, Alfor could only nod his acceptance of the plan.
-
Unknown to both of them with their backs turned, four mice raced into the room. The small group had been emboldened to roam the halls in the silence, but terrified by the new alarms blaring and feeling into an area where there was no wailing sounds and flashing lights.
Startled by two big creatures in the center of the room but too overwhelmed by the sounds and lights to go back out, they hid in the voluminous cloth since it seemed similar to the drapes in the room they typically hid and lived in. Not knowing it was the skirts of a slumbering princess.
-
Alfor turned back to Allura, striding back across the room to her. It was selfish when he had limited time, but he could not deny himself these last ticks with her. He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed a last “I love you, daughter,” before he pulled himself away. Then stepped back as the cover materialized and turned opaque. Allura’s cryopod activating to preserve her. Then the pod lowered into the floor, sealing shut.
For a moment, there was silence.
“Alfor,” Coran’s voice was soft and pained as he again turned off the alarms. “Please, please reconsider. I can shift to resemble you and lure Zarkon away. You could take Allura and flee. She’ll need you.”
“She’ll have you.” And Zarkon was unlikely to fall for such a simple trick, knowing Altean shifting abilities as he did and their shared connection with Voltron. “I need to do this, Coran. I should have done much more far sooner.”
Coran turned, bristling with fury. “You can’t ask me to let my friend and king walk to his death!”
It was the first time either of them had actually said aloud that Alfor would die.
“You… you can’t,” Coran was staring at the pauldron of Alfors armor. Unable to meet his eyes. His longtime friend was tearing up, and Alfor wanted to join him.
This was such a cruel way to say goodbye. Coran had been with him through thick and thin. His most trusted servant for a long time, but also his best friend for longer. They’d gotten into many tight situations together, but had gotten out of the each time together.
It wouldn’t happen this time.
“I’m ordering you, as your King, to do your duty to insure the princess survives and is protected. What I’m asking, as your friend, is that you be there for my daughter. There is no one else in the universe I would trust with Allura as I trust you. I never wanted us to come to this type of situation. But here we are.” Alfor suppressed the desire to collapse. To scream to the White Lion or anything else that would listen and beg for aid. To yell at the Black Lion for not cutting its ties with Zarkon and making it impossible to form Voltron. “Allura will need you. I cannot be there for her. So I need you to be. Please, please do this for me. For Allura. She cannot wake up alone. Please be there for her.”
Coran’s face was on lock-down, though his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He nodded mutely before he turned back to the holographic screens and finished his work there. Knowing Coran, he was also collecting himself. They both sill had much to do.
Alfor had no doubt that the only reason Coran wouldn’t march by his side to death, was only because of Allura.
Together they quietly left the room. The massive, thick doors closing behind them. They would open once more to admit Coran into the room so he could join Allura in a cryogenic slumber until it was time for them to awaken.
As they walked down the hall before they would split to head to their separate locations, a heavy, suffocating silence stifled the air between them.
Alfor wanted to say something, but he was unsure how to break the silence. It lasted the entire walk until they went their separate ways. Suffocating and one more weight upon Alfor’s shoulders.
Coran would head into the central hanger, Alfor to a chamber he had used for his AI. Creating the AI of himself was more than just a hope to provide some comfort to Allura.
The creation of the AI was not something he had come up with due to Zarkon’s attack. It was an idea he had been considering for some time and even began to start the initial phases of.
Much of it had to do with the loss of Oriande before he had found it. It had been inconceivable to Alfor that knowledge of Oriande had vanished as it had. Taking a real place and making it little more than a rarely spoken of myth. Alchemists had continued to exist after the end of the Golden Age of Oriande. It was Sacred Altean’s that had become less and less common, until they became rare. Eventually only being born to those of Royal Blood. Then one a generation or less. For all his life, it had only been Alfor until the birth of his daughter. When he had first learned of Oriande, he had assumed it was a place for just Sacred Alteans. But from his time in Oriande Alfor had come to understand that it was not a requirement. Yet despite the fact that there had always been Alchemists who could have gone there, Oriande had been lost.
That could not happen again. Hence the idea of an AI to safe keep the knowledge and direct worthy people towards seeking entrance.
The AI was a way to insure the knowledge of Oriande’s existence would not be lost, nor the knowledge of the Lions and Voltron and how they operated. It was information that should not be lost, but Alfor didn’t want to have just anyone to have access to it. The AI would be a teacher and a guardian of the knowledge, using his own experience and knowledge to judge who should learn, what they would learn and when.
Alfor had already created and assembled the housing for the AI, larger than what was needed for a normal AI and built to be receptive to alchemy. He had yet to use his alchemy to upload his memories and persona into it.
There was a few reasons, one of which was that creating a copy of himself… disquieted him. He had also not been completely convinced that creating the AI was the best decision. The knowledge of how to create such a thing was not unique to just Alfor. He had found notes of such research in Oriande, though his ancestors had never created one.
They had cause to believe there would be long term damage to the person to try to download their memories and copy their persona into a not quite perfect facsimile of themselves. They had also feared that despite best efforts, the copies would not turn out as planned. Such copies could also be hacked and changed. Despite the alchemy used to imprint the AI with a personality, knowledge and memories, it would ultimately be distilled down to data. Into code. Also, to make a copy of oneself, one would have to have the power of a Sacred Altean. The cost would be draining on one’s quintessence.
When he had told Coran of his plan, he had not completely revealed how truly experimental the process would be. But he had to try.
Alfor was a Sacred Altean who had the power to try. He also would be dead soon, killed by the creature that wore Zarkon’s body. Long-term effects were not his concern so long as he could distract that creature long enough for Coran to launch the Castle-ship and leave something behind to aid his daughter.
Depending on which Alteans survived, there might be no one left to teach Allura after she woke up about alchemy. Much less anyone to teach her of her birthright and reach her full potential as a Sacred Altean. If she dedicated herself to seeking out the remaining Alteans and leading them to a safe place and new lives, she might have questions on how to lead. Especially when her people was so distraught and likely suffering from whatever horrors their fallen people would need to overcome.
It was a foul truth to ingest. That it would not be him helping his daughter to prepare for the trials of Oriande, but a mere copy of himself.
And yet, I still wonder if this is the best decision. The copy was just that, a copy. He would impress upon the AI how important it was to keep Allura and others from becoming overly depended upon it for emotional support and giving it decision making power. It would be for consultation only, and actively encourage Allura to step up as leader with Coran as her primary advisor.
Yes, Alfor stepped forward and focused upon his powers. The form of this creation is becoming clear. The copy could not cause Allura or Coran distress. Alfor couldn’t stand the thought of them being hurt by something using his physical likeliness and twisting his knowledge and memories to hurt them. Alfor knew from his experience with whatever had taken over Zarkon’s body how incredibly devastating that was.
He knelt before the storage device and placed his hands on it. Ordering his thoughts and mentally preparing the download. When ready, he activated the process.
Even though he was to die, some form of him would always be there for his daughter.
-
Alfor staggered out of the AI’s chamber grasping at the wall across from the closing door and out of breath. Exhausted in a way worse than any other time he’d used his Alchemy or even after a long fight as part of Voltron.
That… was far more draining than I had anticipated. Wasn’t that the record of his existence lately? Thinking he knew how things would turn out, only to be proven how little he truly understood and how arrogant he was for thinking otherwise and overestimating himself?
And everyone else suffered the cost of that.
“All our sins always find their ways back to their lair, to sink their fangs in you and rip with their talons so as to fest upon your despair.” Alfor murmured as he turned so he could slide down the wall and sit on the floor. He needed a few minutes if he had any hope of being even a momentary distraction for Zarkon.
“My grandfather used to say that as a warning to us.” Coran said as he approached. Alfor took in the glassy eyes and the heavy weight Coran’s own body seemed to have become.
“A very truthful piece of knowledge he imparted. I just wish there was more foresight into the sins so we could have avoided them.” Then again, he had a missing alchemy teacher who proved he would ignore warnings for his own desire for satisfaction.
Coran sank down next to Alfor so they could sit side by side. They used to do this frequently as boys, and even continued to do so during their adventures. It would be the last time. Alfor squeezed his eyes shut and willed the tears to keep from forming. He accepted his fate, but regret had been his companion since the start of his preparations. “The AI?” Coran asked.
“Created. How were the teams?”
“…they will do their duty and complete the mission.”
Coran left much unsaid, but Alfor could fill in what was between his words as he stared at the shut AI chamber. When he had met with the Alchemists he had chosen and told them what was to happen and taught them how to seal the Lions, there had been mixed reactions. Some had been depressed but agreeable, others had been professional externally but seethed with rage internally even as they understood what was needed of them. They had all given him the respect due to his rank and commands despite their personal feelings for the situation, which was far more than he deserved but was grateful for.
Everything was done. He just needed to leave so he could draw out Zarkon.
He wanted to say something to Coran, but words escaped him after their last exchange. What do you say when you are going off to die? I’m sorry? Thank you?
It was Coran who broke the silence. “I know… I know Zarkon is dangerous.” Alfor bit down a mirthless chuckle; dangerous was an understatement. Zarkon had been the greatest fighter Alfor had ever known. The Galra were natural born fighters, and Zarkon was the best among them. Who knows what the thing inhabiting him had done to his friends body. “But promise me you’ll do everything in your power to win. Win and be the one to come and wake us up from stasis. Allura would be so happy to wake up to see you there.”
“She would be absolutely furious with me,” Alfor couldn’t help but point out with a wry smile.
Coran gave a shaky smile back. “But you’ll be there for her to be furious at.” His smile dropped, “Swear to me. Everything in your power. Don’t just try and delay Zarkon. Stop him.”
Alfor closed his eyes. It was almost cruel for Coran to wish for this impossibility. “I swear.”
He felt Coran slump besides him. “Please don’t make me lose my friend.”
Alfor shifted to better meet Coran’s eyes. “I will always be your friend. Your constant support has always so appreciated. I do not have the words to tell you what you being here now, knowing you will be there for Allura, means to me. I regret my actions brought us to this point. Everyone deserved better than this, and I wish I didn’t have so much I still require of you.”
“I don’t want it to be like this,” Coran choked back a sob as he pressed his face to his hands.
Alfor pressed his shoulder to his friends. “I don’t want it to be like this either.”
They took a dobash to pull themselves together. Zarkon was rapidly approaching but both needed to regain their composure and prepare themselves. Alfor to go and face Zarkon, Coran to let him and leave Alfor behind.
Together they walked towards where their paths would split. Coran would head back to the Command Deck, Alfor would leave the castle.
“I look forward to seeing you when you come to wake us.” Coran tried for his usual smile. Alfor knew better.
“I promised, everything in my power. Regardless, I am always with you and Allura.”
“I know.”
“Goodbye Coran, my friend. I pray to the stars you find happiness.” Alfor smiled as best he could. An honest smile, if sad.
“Goodbye, Alfor. My friend.” Coran smiled back, though his was with far more sorrow.
With that, they split up. Alfor turned and forced his body to put one foot before the other. Thought the halls to the door that lead out of the castle.
Alfor focused on his bond to Red, who unhappily pushed it to the Black and onto Zarkon. A sense of “I am here”. The challenge was clear. Hopefully whatever possessed Zarkon would have his Galran need to meet and conquer a challenge.
And from Zarkon to Black through Red to Alfor, he felt the response. A wordless acceptance, dark amusement, and unshattering self-confidence.
It was a strange time to envy his fellow paladins confidence.
He allowed himself one last look into the depths of the Castle. Where the Lions were. Where his oldest friend was probably heading into the control room to ready for takeoff. Where Allura lay deep in suspended animation, unaware.
The King of the Exalted Altean Sovereignty looked up. Beyond the Radiant Arcs was the fleet Zarkon had amassed. So massive it practically blocked out the sun. Bombarding the barrier and causing it to flare, a mix of the blue from what was keeping Altea protected, and the reds and yellows from lasers and cannons seeking to destroy his people. To gain control of the powerful Lions and the destructive power of Voltron.
Alfor stood tall and resolute as he walked out into the chaos of the end of everything.