(From Ashes) Chapter 32

        Pride: From Ashes
            Chapter 32
            Jaivur

A stretch of open ground near the Castle of Lions, bordered by scorched grass and a few chunks of fallen stone, had proved a good site for hand to hand combat training. Today it wasn't the militia or the guards making use of the area. The team had promised to train Allura in everything, after all, and she wasn't the only one who could use some work on just plain punching people.

She might have been the only person who wanted it.

"I shouldn't have to be here." Daniel held up his cast as he said it, and even the bandages on his other hand for good measure. "I'm too wounded."

"Take mental notes," Lance suggested.

Sven raised an eyebrow. "If you're too wounded for sparring practice, surely you've been too wounded for copiloting?"

"It would explain why his hand was so slippery during weapons training," Pidge said innocently. "Should've said something then, no need to strain yourself."

The gunner scowled. "Okay first, Pidge, my hand slipping was just because I was still trying to figure out all this Sentinel bull. Second, Sven, fuck off."

"Copiloting is the easy job," Lance agreed with a smirk, earning him a smoldering death glare.

"Okay third, Lance, fuck off times two!"

Nervously fidgeting with her gaive'llar, Romelle tried to parse that with her understanding of the curse in question and had little success. "What does that even mean?"

"Do you want the literal translation or the cultural meaning?" Sven answered.

"…Whichever one isn't… worse?"

"It means go away."

That didn't seem right at all, but maybe she didn't want to dwell on it more. She smiled and nodded instead. Next to her Allura was blushing, having come to a similar conclusion.

Groan. "None of you love me."

"Aww, that ain't true, little dude!"

"Pfft, kid, this means we adore you."

Daniel rolled his eyes affectionately, scooped Toast off his head, and cuddled the salalizard with an entirely unconvincing sulk.

"He's in a mood today, isn't he?" Romelle whispered to Vince, who snorted.

"When isn't he?" Not that he could blame him for wanting out of sparring. Vince himself was already seriously debating sneaking off to work on the shuttles instead.

Coughing to cover a chuckle, Keith signaled for the team's attention. "All right, I think that's enough of that. We should get down to business. Spread out and group up. Allura, you're with Lance. Romelle, you're with Hunk."

Romelle gave the commander a skeptical frown; Hunk laughed. "Don't worry, sis. I'm not as scary as I look."

"He's really not," Pidge agreed before pairing off with Vince.

"I know that." It was one of the first things she'd learned about the team. "I just…" She gestured vaguely. "You're just big." But then, he was, too.

"Hunk is big?" Lance repeated, snickering. "I never noticed."

"Yeah, means I fall down harder."

Still grinning, Lance turned back to Allura, who fell into a defensive stance and tentatively raised her fists. It felt awkward, and Keith was shaking his head before Lance could even match the gesture.

"Hold up, Princess. You'll break your thumb if you keep it tucked into your fist like that." He made a fist of his own. "Keep it on the outside, like this."

Blushing slightly, she nodded and imitated his fist. "I see." It did feel a little more natural once she had the positioning correct; she opened and closed her hand a couple more times to help commit it to memory.

"Got any instructions for me, boss?" Lance asked with a smirk.

"Don't hurt her."

"Gotcha."

"Or Lady Hys will have both our asses mounted on a castle wall somewhere."

"But what fine asses they are!" Now Keith's cheeks flushed just a little bit too, and Lance winked at him before turning back to Allura. Guess it's me and the blush twins. "Okay, gonna let you hit me first, let's see what you've got."

Allura nodded, then threw a punch at his shoulder; the impact forced him a half-step backwards. She stepped back herself, a little off balance. "Like that?"

"Fuck." He reached up and poked at his shoulder, then smirked again. He'd taken much harder punches, but she had some power to work with. "Not bad."

Grin. "Again?"

"Try to keep your weight even between both feet," Keith advised. "Makes it easier to hold your balance, or to shift between one side and the other." Her form wasn't bad for a beginner, but she would need to use her weight a little more. Which might not entirely be a form issue, either; go ahead, punch your friend was not the most intuitive instruction. She'd get used to it.

Lance nodded and braced himself. "Go for it. I'm not gonna keep making it easy on you, though." This time she punched with a bit more force behind it, and he sidestepped easily. She took note of his movements, reoriented, tried again, and missed again. With a small snort of irritation she tried one with her other hand, and was able to at least graze his arm.

We are learning…

Frowning, Keith considered all the sparring sessions the team had conducted back on the Bolt. He really couldn't recall seeing… "Do you actually know how to block that correctly, Lance?"

"I can dodge," he answered, ducking another punch as he did so.

Keith rolled his eyes; he could see that. "Dodging is good, but sometimes you have to block." As if to prove it, Allura took that moment to try a feint, which Lance had definitely not been expecting out of her so quickly.

"…Point." He rubbed his shoulder again and shrugged. "It's not my strong point." Hand to hand in general wasn't his strong point. Guns didn't call for a whole lot of blocking.

"All right." Keith stepped closer. "Princess, throw a punch at me so I can demonstrate blocking form. For both of you."

Hunk and Romelle had reached about the same point. "Okay, I'm not gonna hit ya hard, promise. But blockin' is useful against most people, yeah? Even if it doesn't look it."

"Yes." Romelle squared up and watched carefully. She remembered a few moves Lotor had taught her with a blade to nullify an opponent's greater strength; at least the concept made sense. Hunk was still rather big, but she'd trust him a lot more to actually pull his punches, too.

"Thing is, the last thing you actually wanna do is block-block. You can, but it's better to deflect—you kinda block it at an angle so most of the force misses you." Hand to hand wasn't his strength either, despite appearances. But he'd been 'volunteered' as a demonstration target a lot back in Academy combatives, he knew the theory inside out. "Hold your arm up."

Romelle obediently raised her arm, then glanced over at Sven. He was overseeing, but seemed content to let Hunk take the initial explanation; he nodded his approval for her blocking form, so she turned her attention back to the issue at hand.

Hunk glanced a couple of light punches off the top of her arm. "Okay, now the idea is to make that happen when I'm actually aimin' to hit you."

"All right." Somehow it sounded both simple enough and easier said than done. But she lowered herself into a more serviceable guard stance and nodded. "Let's try this."

This time he punched a little faster, though still nowhere near full strength. She quickly moved her arm up, feeling a sting from the glancing impact, but not as bad as she'd expected. Her second deflection didn't go quite as well; she very nearly managed to direct a punch aimed for her shoulder into her face. "This is complicated."

"You won't win facing him head on, even knowing how to block properly. But remember you can do two things at once." Sven demonstrated, raising his left arm in a blocking motion while ducking to his right. "Like you say, he's big and much stronger than you are, but you're faster and more elusive. Use that."

Nod. "Understood."

On the topic of faster and more elusive, Vince's attempt to spar with the ninja was going exactly as poorly as he'd anticipated. Pidge had finally resorted to just standing still. "Okay, hit me."

Vince sighed. Why can't I just work with the wires? But he went for it, throwing a punch that Pidge caught easily.

"Try harder."

"You've got this, Vince!" Daniel cheered from the sidelines, then looked down at Toast. "He does not have this." The salalizard sneezed a couple of embers.

Both of them glared in his direction. "Are you nuts?"

"Daniel, you're next."

The hell he was. "Wounded, remember? I'm just here for the mental notes."

Shaking his head, Vince threw another punch, putting a bit more strength into it. This time when Pidge caught it, he was driven back a step. "Good! I felt that one."

"Huh." Was that really a compliment? Probably. This was Pidge. "Again?" At the ninja's nod, he braced and put all the oomph he could into his next punch.

It pushed him back two steps this time, and he seemed delighted. "See? You actually put your effort into it and you're not that bad. Now I'm going to not stand still for you." He raised his voice slightly. "And if Daniel has any commentary, he can come work on dodging with me and you can practice with Toast."

Daniel snorted, smiled, and flipped them both off. He had no intention of doing shit today.

But he was taking mental notes.

*****

The Drule shuttle had been carried by a warship that seemed excessive for what they were doing. Flynn hadn't been able to leave the shuttle in transit, which only annoyed him more. If he had to be helping the damn Ninth Kingdom, they could at least let him see what their ships were like.

Helping them…

This isn't for them.

No. The Drules could all burn, so far as he cared. But first, some others would need to.

In any case, the witch's acolyte had left him in a tangle of woods and undergrowth in the shadow of some mountains. The lack of oversight surprised him. But why? She could apparently force his will if necessary… another flash of anger cast that thought aside. Focus. Moving through the foothills brought him to a lake, which seemed like a good sign. He followed the banks, crossing a river, until a structure rose up in the distance.

A castle?

A castle with rather a lot of holes in it. He took note of that as he approached. Plenty of possible entrances, if he needed them. Not what he'd prefer without knowing the layout. Taking stock of the exterior seemed more useful; there were huge chunks of fallen masonry and other debris scattered over the castle grounds, and he used them for cover as he approached.

Voices caught his attention as he scouted, and not the voices that occasionally reared up in the back of his own mind. This was actual conversation drifting over the meadow, and he moved towards it with a bit more caution.

And there they were.

They looked so goddamn normal. Happy, even. For a moment he felt he should be glad of that, then the rage surged and disgust took over instead.

How fucking dare they?

Ducking back behind a slab of stone, he squeezed his eyes shut and let the initial surge of anger pass. This wasn't how he fought. He needed calm, not blind rage. And calm led to that confusion at the fringes of his awareness, something he couldn't entirely grasp. Why was this the correct course? He felt it, with a certainty he hadn't known since his priest training. This was right. But if he tried to think through the situation more logically, it all seemed to fall apart—

Flynn, don't do this! Fight it!

—The voice shot through the back of his mind and he hissed in reflexive irritation. Shut up! Anger returned, and with it, certainty. He had no damned need to entertain doubt. He had a purpose here.

Don't do this. Do what? Death had been good enough for three of them, it was good enough for the rest.

He drew his sidearm. Another annoyance. Sure, the witch had given it to him, but he'd neglected to ask for ammunition. How had that slipped his mind? …His mind seemed awfully damn slippery since being brought back to life, that was why…

Fury surged again. Priorities. He'd spend what bullets he had and deal with the rest.

Silently bracing himself against the broken chunk of stone, he tested out his sights. Hunk was the easiest target, of course. And the most practical—he'd be very dangerous close in. Two good reasons. He lined up the shot, exhaled slowly, and started to squeeze the trigger—

Fuck OFF with that, Chief!

—The shot went slightly off course as the voice shattered his concentration, and for an instant the rage became blinding.

*****

Larmina had been invited to combat training, for some reason. She'd skipped it. If Auntie wanted lessons from her, she'd happily give them… privately. But she wasn't all that interested in Alliance punching techniques.

Besides, she wanted to talk to someone. Someone who would be much more accessible if a certain ninja was otherwise occupied.

The Council meeting was still running through her mind. The official story—the official lie—about the lions was one thing. The official story about Allura's involvement was something else. They'd cheerfully told a room full of stuffy old nobles that most Arusians couldn't bond to lions, but nobody seemed to have told certain lions the same thing.

"I'm certain you've told me that several times, cub. And many other things besides."

"Oh, good, you're listening." Larmina rolled her eyes. "I'm on my way to your den, don't go anywhere."

Green Lion gave a weird sort of purr-snort in her head. "I will endeavor not to wander off."

…Maybe that had been a little rude. Oh well. Picking up the pace, she reached the den in pretty good time, all things considered. And sure enough, the lion had not wandered off. Though now that she was here, she wasn't exactly sure where to start…

"So uh, hi."

The lion chuckled. "Oh, don't hold back now, cub. Say what you feel you must."

"…Sure." Larmina eyed her suspiciously. "Okay, look. Now that Auntie might be a martyr and might be special because of the House of Raimon and is definitely a unique case, why are you still talking to me?"

"To be fair, we did not confirm any of those theories." Green sounded rather irked, though Larmina didn't think it was directed at her. "And we both know why I am speaking to you, but you don't seem to want me to say it."

"Excuse me? I've been asking you for answers since before you started talking to me."

"You've demanded the answers I do not have, and avoided those I do. Why else would you continue to insist you have nothing to do with the Defender?"

Much as she didn't want to admit it, Larmina couldn't really argue that point. And the fact that she didn't want to admit it was kind of proving it too. "Fine." She sighed and dropped to sit in the moss, scowling up at the lion. "You want me to be your Sentinel, or whatever. With the annoying ninja. Because you couldn't call Arusians before for reasons, but now that you've got offworlders it's okay." She hesitated a moment. "And Black Lion wanted Auntie because she's special, and you want me because you have low standards."

Green's golden eyes flared for a moment. "You started that so well, cub. Why would I not want you? Does this forest not belong to your blood?"

Oh, sure, now someone wanted to agree that it was her forest. "It's named for the House of Altair, sure. Queen Nelcala was given rule of the province beyond the forest, because she made the path through." She closed her eyes. "But maybe you hadn't noticed, I barely count as an heir."

"Your title among mortals is not my interest. Very few of your line have set foot in this forest since I slept here, regardless of its name."

"Because they don't want to get eaten by banewolves." Snort. "I'm just bad at following instructions."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

That kind of cryptic nonsense was just unnecessary, and Larmina glared up at her. "Know what, this is not about me."

"Is it not?" Green purred softly. "You do not trust me or my siblings, because we could not wake in time to stop the invaders. I understand your anger. But I wonder… if I could have called you before the invaders struck, would you have accepted?"

Larmina blinked. She remembered that moment in the forest, long before the sinycka had ruined everything. The whisper through the trees.

Daughter of the Forest.

We are not yet ready.

"To save Arus? Obviously."

"And yet, you would not have known." Green was still purring. "Had I called you before the attack, neither of us with knowledge of what was to come. What then?"

That was a harder question. Or at least, Larmina's immediate thought was that it was a harder question… but was it really? Allura was trying hard to balance the royalty and lion-pilot things, so far, but it wasn't like she had much choice. Before the attack? Would it have been one or the other? Or even if not, flying some mysterious metal cat sounded way cooler than etiquette lessons and debut balls. She'd have accepted just for that, given the chance.

"I think so."

"Then what has changed?"

What the hell kind of a question was that? Everything had changed. Green Lion hadn't been awake, hadn't called her when the stakes didn't matter. Arus was in ruins because of it! "I'm sorry, have you bothered to look around at all while you've been flying around with your actual pilot? Maybe you haven't noticed this either, but all you're fighting to save anymore is what little bit's left!"

Wait. Something in the yell struck her hard. What's left. It was trying to break through. She almost understood what Green was saying, she almost had it.

And suddenly, an agitated roar shook the den. "We must end this discussion, cub. You should return to your own den."

Blink. "Wait, that's what finally offends you?"

"…No." The lion chuckled, but her amusement vanished almost immediately. "You wish for your people to be able to protect your own world—go and rally them." A low growl ruffled the moss around her. "Because something is very wrong."

*****

Romelle had just thrown a punch to Hunk's left side when blood exploded from his right. The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out simultaneously, and the echoes nearly drowned out her shocked scream.

"Hunk!"

"What the fuck?"

"HUNK!"

"Mijtairra sa kye!"

Hunk reacted on instinct before the pain fully registered, flinging himself back at an angle. Reacting to a sniper was one of the first combat skills an engineer learned. The nearest cover was a slab of scorched stone tile, and by the time he reached it he was dragging more than just himself. Both Romelle and Vince had rushed to his side as the others sprang into full combat mode.

Collapsing behind the debris as the wave of pain fully hit, he gritted his teeth and did his best not to scream while the other two tried to stop the bleeding. What the hell?! Yellow was snarling, and he tried to focus on it. Anything but the gaping hole in his side.

The rest of the team had raced forward, using other debris to their advantage, but it didn't make sense. There was no sniper position where the shot had come from, just the grass and the river. Hell, the only high ground around here was the castle itself. But as the immediate combat instincts gave way to assessing the situation, it became clear they were dealing with something else. Not a hidden sniper, but someone approaching them, holstering a gun at his side. Someone in Drule armor, but not a Drule at all.

"Wha…"

"What in the third hell?"

"That can't be…"

He was in no hurry. There was nothing he could do about the damn voices, but it wouldn't matter. One down, the rest to go.

Lance had frozen. They'd all stopped, to be fair—but he felt like ice had physically rooted him to the spot, and possibly stopped his heart from beating as well. His gun dropped to the ground without him noticing.

"Flynn…"

Keith was gripping his sword, ready to lunge, but his legs wouldn't move. He was lucky enough to be breathing. How? His mind flailed to explain what he was seeing, and the arena flashed before his eyes again. He was dead. Wasn't he? Had he survived against all odds, been more useful to the Drules alive? But that didn't make sense, the Drules hadn't known what would happen either…

"Just going to stare?" Flynn asked coolly, looking over the group with contempt. "That'll make my job easier."

Behind the tile slab, Hunk and Vince heard the voice and exchanged stunned looks; Yellow was still growling. "Huh?"

"It can't…"

Peeking around their cover, Romelle recognized him immediately. "Oh… I think the appropriate thing to say here is… fuck?"

Nobody could argue that at all.

"Lance." Daniel's first reaction had been the same shock and confusion as the others. His second reaction had been to check on Lance, and the pilot was in pretty much the state he'd expected. But worse. "Lance!" Rushing over, he grabbed his shoulders and shook. "Lance, snap out of it!"

It didn't accomplish anything. "Flynn."

"Yes, Flynn. Very dangerous, Drule-armor-wearing Flynn." He didn't want to think about anything he was saying, he just wanted Lance to wake up. Picking up the fallen gun, he shoved it into his hand. "Please snap out of it."

Reflexively, Lance's hand curled around the weapon, but his eyes remained blankly staring ahead. He knew what he was seeing, knew it was impossible. Yet he wanted to believe it was him, just not that he could be doing this…

Not even Red's growling in his mind was enough to get through.

Sven was ahead of the others, and he'd been halfway to drawing his knife before realizing what they were seeing. Who they were seeing. His hand wound up on his sidearm instead; he didn't think he could stab Flynn. So he pulled the gun and took aim, though he wasn't entirely sure what he intended to do with it, either.

It was enough to draw Flynn's full attention, and he snorted. "Try it, Holgersson. Please."

Of course. "I'd rather not have to."

"Fine." Flynn started walking towards him, as calm and cold as ever. "Don't."

Fuck. Swallowing hard, feeling Blue growling with alarm in his mind, Sven opened fire. This had to be some kind of dream, some kind of trick. It had to. He had to believe that…

A flurry of plasma bolts rained over and around Flynn, and most of them missed, as he'd anticipated from Sven. Some didn't. But even those didn't hurt; whether his armor was absorbing them or it was just the whole undead thing, he didn't know and didn't particularly care. It wasn't going to save him. With every step, the seething anger increased, and bringing down the next target was all that mattered.

"My turn?" he asked mockingly, drawing his gun again. At this range it didn't even matter if the voices interfered, he couldn't possibly miss—

"Not today!"

Sven had already been dropping to the ground, though it wouldn't have been enough to get him out of the way in time. Keith flinging himself at Flynn and tackling him to the grass did better. The shot passed harmlessly above the navigator's shoulder, and he felt the rush of relief even as he finished rolling out of the way.

"Faex—still yourself, aren't you?!" Springing to his feet, Flynn lunged at Keith faster than he'd ever have been able to before, slamming a shoulder into his chest and knocking him back.

Grunting with pain, Keith moved just enough out of the blow to avoid his ribs caving in. "Some things never change." He took a wild swing with his sword to get some distance; Flynn used his gun to deflect it before holstering the weapon again.

It was enough to break the spell. Forcing down the razors churning in his guts, Pidge drew his knife and raced forward. "And what's your excuse?!" They had to move, damn it! They all knew Flynn couldn't fight hand to hand. Disable first, then we can ask him all the questions we want. The Drules had lied, that had to be it. He shook off the memory of crouching on the arena floor, feeling for a pulse that wasn't there. Wrong, he'd been wrong. Everything had been a lie somehow, they could fix this, they just had to—

Flynn whipped around faster than even the ninja could follow, grabbing his arm as he lunged. "My excuse?"

"Komora…?"

"My excuse?" he repeated in a venomous hiss, wrenching Pidge's arm and flinging him away like a rag doll. "That should be fucking obvious, but clearly you're not as smart as you think you are, either!" Snort. "Of course nobody's as smart as you think you are."

Sven's eyes widened. That looked like… no, that didn't make any sense at all. It had to be his imagination, he was mentally flailing too much.

"Pidge!" He'd landed not too far from where Hunk had taken shelter, and Vince risked ducking out long enough to pull him to dubious safety. His mind was churning. This isn't possible. He knew for an absolute fact Flynn was dead. But the memory of the last time they'd spoken was strong, the way he'd vanished that hadn't been right.

Yellow growled in his mind, both agreement and anger, and for once he was completely on the lion's side.

Safety was not something Pidge was interested in right now, but he couldn't recover quickly. Some of the pain was physical. Most of it wasn't. As Vince offered a hand, he finally clambered to his feet. "I'm fine…"

"Are you sure?" Romelle was holding her hands on Hunk's wound still, but managed to give him a worried look.

He just looked back at her for a moment, then moved out from under cover. They both knew the answer to that.

Looking after him, Vince slowly shook his head. "This can't… it can't," he whispered. "He's dead."

"I remember…" Romelle motioned him over to help with Hunk again. "It certainly seemed that way."

"That's not what…" He trailed off. He didn't just seem like it. But he couldn't explain it to her, he wasn't sure he could explain it at all. He hadn't even really been able to talk about it before.

As he returned to helping tend Hunk's injury, the big engineer managed to give his hand a slight squeeze. He knew, at least. "We've got ya, little dude."

Like any of them had anything right now.

Flynn had moved to pursue Pidge, but Allura stepped in front of him. She really only had a vague idea of who this was, what was happening. But she could feel the deep wrongness in the air, surrounding the stranger and rippling between the team. "Leave us alone," she growled, taking up a defensive stance.

He blinked, stopping as she blocked him; he didn't know her. Didn't care about her. There were enough distractions here already, he didn't need more. "You can leave."

Her eyes narrowed, a prayer against the unnatural running through her mind. "This is my world, you are the invader."

Before he could respond to that, Keith took advantage of his distraction to land a slash to the back of his legs. He stumbled forward a step, seemingly more startled than actually injured, and the commander cursed under his breath. He barely even flinched.

He didn't understand what was happening, how this was possible. It felt like a nightmare… but what he did know, what he had to cling to, was that he couldn't let Flynn hurt anyone else on his team.

Well behind the front line of the battle now, Lance still hadn't made himself move. Daniel tried a different angle. "Lance, I need your help. You've gotta help me." All it got him was a brief flicker of focus, and he scowled. Fine, full-on emotional manipulation then! He could apologize later, as long as Lance was alive to apologize to. "Snap out of it, I need your help! Aren't brothers supposed to help each other?"

It was obvious Lance wasn't even hearing him. "He wouldn't do this," he whispered. The feeling of wrongness was shooting down his spine, overwhelming. "He wouldn't."

"Well he obviously…" Daniel was feeling something himself, a gathering pressure inside, as if the fire that had been blazing through him since bonding to Red were struggling to break loose. This wasn't working. "Ugh, fine! Stand there. Try not to die. Please." Keeping in position to cover him as best he could, Daniel drew his own sidearm and tried to line up a shot. It wasn't much good; Keith was in the way.

The pressure was still building.

"Will it make you feel better if I kill you first, Kogane?" Getting his legs steady again, Flynn landed a sharp kick to Keith's shin before he could retreat. "I'm not picky about the order."

Even moving with the blow, it was enough to drop him to his knees, and he rolled backwards with a wince. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Good." A flurry of lasers hit him, and he glanced briefly at Daniel, who'd finally gotten a clear shot. But the shots that landed were ineffective, and he was busy. "Get up, or don't."

Keith rolled again, evading a follow up strike, and regained his feet. "You know me better than that, Flynn."

He scoffed. "Did I know you? Abandoning your teammates on that hellhole planet?"

What? "Abandoned you?" Guilt gnawed sharply at his stomach despite knowing it was ridiculous. They'd been in no position to recover the bodies. If they had been, they damn well would've, and he had to know that too. "You were dead!"

"Yes. We were."

"…What?" We? Sven and Pidge had ended up next to each other, and both quickly scanned their surroundings, half expecting to see the other two in enemy armor as well. And personally Pidge wouldn't have been wholly against it, at least he was pretty sure he'd be able to punch Cam in the face for his own good, but—

"You're not making sense." Keith held his sword in a guard position, taking a step back.

Flynn stepped back as well, laughing, though entirely without humor. "No? Isn't it obvious?" His eyes narrowed. "I have the other two you let die, right here with me…" His voice shifted, echoing with two other achingly familiar voices beneath it. "And THEY HATE YOU TOO!"

"What the—" Keith jumped away, barely keeping his sword steady as his eyes widened. "How…?" Only Black growling in his mind kept his thoughts from running away completely, and he forced himself to focus—but hearing Cam's voice again was like a whole new punch to the gut. How?!

"I've told you all you need to know," Flynn snapped, and sprang.

At the same time, Daniel nearly dropped his own gun. If he had to shoot Flynn he could do that, fine. The other two? No. He felt the pressure of the flame inside of him literally boiling over, and a raging column of fire flared to life for a split second. Not where Flynn was, or had been, or even was about to be… but off to his left for some fucking reason, not even getting his attention.

Though he should've been horrified—and was suitably horrified, intellectually—Sven felt an odd sense of calm fall over him, and snorted. Hate him? Jace wouldn't hate him. His jokes, sure. Him, never. And more to the point… their medic had tried too hard, and failed too spectacularly, to hate any of them. Sven knew.

Drawing his knife, he lunged forward. His thoughts and emotions were still churning—how? Why? What was this? But he knew one thing now, the most important thing. Somehow, it wasn't what it seemed. It couldn't be.

The lunge itself didn't go too well. A momentary distraction, just enough for Keith to dodge the enraged… zombie?… bearing down on him. He spun away as Flynn took a moment to throw Sven aside, raising his sword for a counterattack.

What he had no reason to expect was Flynn reading his movement flawlessly. For a fraction of a second he felt the shock, a whole new layer of confusion. Then a vicious punch took him in the side of the head and everything briefly went black.

Allura didn't like what she was seeing; she liked what she was feeling even less. What the invader had said was making the magic she felt make more sense, but that wasn't a good thing… speaking of magic, she found herself next to Daniel, who was holding his head and gritting his teeth in pain. Flame jetted out to his side as she watched. "Daniel? Focus, you can control this."

Focus and control, right, like hell he could focus and control like this! "He's—he's lying—right?"

Her own focus returning to Flynn, Allura tried to see the energy she was feeling. She wasn't close enough. "Three of them," she murmured, eyes and markings glowing. "I can sense three, but…" She needed to be closer, and Keith wasn't getting up. Eyes narrowing, she sprinted forward.

Fuck, he shouldn't have asked. Daniel could see Jace and Cam's faces in his mind, and quickly distanced himself from Lance as fire began bursting out around him. It was the only logical thought he could muster. Each new flare burned larger and hotter than the last, there and gone in an instant, and each one seemed to send a new dagger of exhaustion through his skull; he was losing control of his emotions, he knew that, but hell if he was in any condition to make it stop!

Not that it was Daniel's question alone that drove Allura forward. She bit her lip in concentration, knowing she didn't have much time. They needed information, they all did. She couldn't imagine facing such magic wearing the face of one of her loved ones, but she knew she would want to know the truth… he'd dismissed her once, and she would use that presumption to her advantage.

As Flynn moved in on Keith's unconscious form, she grabbed his arm and held on with all her strength.

He spun around, more startled than anything. "Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" Hadn't he told her to go and not die? He didn't give a damn about her planet, but if she insisted—

Suddenly, the swelling fury became overwhelming again. He could feel the voices fighting, and the witch's commands seemed to be at war with… with…

For an instant, the world went dark.

Allura felt the world freeze. "What in the hells?" The meadow was no longer surrounding them, but a toxic pinkish-purple haze that made her nauseous just to look at. Brighter tendrils of the same energy drifted around them both—except it wasn't just both of them standing in it. She was staring at another stranger, younger, a pale aura sputtering around him. The toxic energy was chaining him to two others, shadowy forms back to back with him, seemingly fending off the poisonous fog. One of the two, glowing a deeper violet, might have looked like Flynn if she could see him properly…

"Can't you hear us?" She couldn't tell if the boy in front of her could actually see her, or if he was speaking to the apparition outside. "Listen to us, fight him, please!"

Gathering herself, Allura tried to force the toxic fog away, but it barely even rippled. "Let them go!" She didn't know who she was yelling it at either, really, but it gave her a focus—a second attempt loosened one of the energy tendrils, but it didn't last. Whoever had done this was far more skilled with magic than her minor talents.

But she'd gotten his attention, and his eyes widened. "You—yes! Can you hear us? You can see us! Listen, please! You have to help us!"

It was all she could do to stay steady, but she nodded. "What is this?"

"They call it a jaivur. It's some kind of undead… thing. A construct. We're not sure, exactly." He shook his head. "Listen, you've got to tell them. Don't hold back, don't hesitate."

"A… jaivur?" she repeated, committing the alien word to memory. "I'm listening. Tell me everything you can."

"You can't get through to it. We've been fighting but it only does so much. You have to kill this body. Don't worry about us—we're already dead, but this is hell!"

Things were coming together, and the sick feeling in Allura's stomach was only intensifying as she began to grasp the horror. First the robeasts, now this. What other hideous magic could the Drules possess? "I will tell them," she promised. "We will help you. Can you tell me anything else?"

He grimaced for a moment. "We don't know a lot. Just—" There was a flash of energy, the violet and green-gold auras of the other shadows wavering. "—Nyet!" He was struggling against something unseen, and the fog was swelling, clouding her vision until all she could see was—

"—Shut UP!" Flynn screamed, slamming her aside with all his strength. "You can die too if you want it that badly!" It wasn't just rage driving him, though there was plenty of that too. The witch was watching, she had to be. It felt like an iron vise had crushed his will and his mind to rip him back into reality, and he could practically feel the glow of that damn crystal she'd used to control him.

Allura rolled to the side, gasping for breath, pain shooting across her shoulders and collarbone. But she could feel Black Lion's presence, steadying her. Regaining her balance in the face of such horror. Her fists flashed with lightning; still in tune with all of her magical ability, she let herself focus on it fully.

"Let it come, Stormheart. Your powers are greater than you know."

The scream and the surge of lightning jolted Keith back to his senses, and the first thing he saw was Flynn lunging for the princess. Absolutely not. He wasn't close enough to intervene… even as he charged himself, he threw his sword with all his might. "Back off, Flynn!"

"He is not Flynn." Allura rose up on one knee, letting the lightning take a familiar form. An arc shot out around her hand, a tendril of energy linking its ends. A bow and arrow manifested from the lightning, and her eyes blazed electric-blue as she took aim.

Flynn had been clipped by the sword just enough to get his attention, and stopped to pick it up. He had the full intention of using it to take the unknown woman's head off her shoulders. But as he turned to do just that, all he could see was a flare of lightning.

Allura fired.

The lightning arrow sprang forward as a massive bolt, thunder echoing behind it. But Flynn barely had time to register the sound. Then the energy poured into him, surging through his armor and his skin, and this time his scream was nothing but pain.

"Holy…"

"Whoa."

"Fuck."

Even Lance jolted slightly, blinking as the sounds washed over him. He had to get it together somehow, but his mind refused. Shaking his head, he stumbled back, gravitating towards Daniel without really realizing.

For once Daniel did not particularly want him there. Only because the pressure from his own useless magic was still burning, and Allura landing such a successful strike was only making him feel more useless, and why couldn't any of his magical bullshit just hit where he wanted it to?

Pidge sprinted in as the afterimages faded, easily disarming Flynn, who was in no shape whatsoever to resist. Tempted as he was to land a slash or two while he was there, the ninja had no intention of getting himself struck by lightning and the princess didn't exactly look finished. So instead he retreated and returned the sword to Keith, hissing, "Hold onto it this time!"

"Yeah. Thanks." Keith was still a little dazed by what he'd just seen—not to mention everything else going on. But he could admit, giving his murderous and apparently undead second a weapon really hadn't been his best move.

Flynn dropped to his hands and knees, gasping for breath—why the hell did he have to breathe? Maybe it was just habit. Whatever it was, he was still not remotely recovered as Allura conjured up a second arrow.

You have to kill this body. Don't worry about us.

Focusing again, she unleashed the second shot. But the lightning crackled and fizzled, a ragged bolt rather than the massive thunderclap from before, and the bow sputtered in her hands. Oh, gods. Exhaustion was crashing over her. Biting her lip, she tried to call up a third, but only got a few sparks.

The second shot did land true, and Flynn cursed as he braced himself… but this time it was only a momentary flicker of discomfort. A slow smirk crossed his face. "Well, if it's any consolation, you did better than the rest of these idiots." He moved forward as she stepped back, and threw a punch directly at her heart.

Reflexes she hadn't had at the beginning of the day sprang to life, and Allura blocked the punch. But it was still enough to send her staggering back. "Oof…" She threw herself to the ground and scrambled away, seeing movement from behind him.

Keith cursed; he was rushing forward, but still just out of range. "Princess!"

"Who are you calling an idiot?" Pidge vaulted forward at the same moment, raising his knife to land a solid stab to the chest. It's his own damn fault he died. I told him to take care of himself. He didn't listen. He kept trying to tell himself that, but the images flickered before his eyes again anyway. If it hadn't been for me he'd be alive. If I'd kept an eye on him like I should've…

Too late, he registered Green's panicked roar in his mind. Much too late, he snapped back to his senses, and found himself with Flynn's hand around his throat.

"You."

Mijtairra!

"Pidge!" Even Hunk tried to intervene, getting to his feet despite Romelle and Vince attempting to hold him down. But the hole in his ribs had its own opinions, and his entire side buckled the first time he tried to put weight on that leg; his hip gave out and he went back down. Keith and Sven were both moving in and would have had a better shot.

But Daniel felt the pressure intensifying somehow—how the hell could it keep getting worse? All he could see was that Pidge was going to die. And he wasn't going to just stand here and allow any dying, they'd promised him no dying, but there was nothing he could do about it—

An enormous jet of flame lashed out, and of course it didn't hit Flynn either. It almost hit Pidge, passing just behind him; it was all he could do not to stagger back into the flames as Flynn dropped him from sheer shock. And he wasn't the only one. Sven didn't quite skid to a halt in time, and had to throw himself to the ground as a large patch of his shirt burst into flame.

Following where the fire had come from, Flynn found himself staring at Daniel. "Could you not? You almost incinerated Pidge. And Sven." He stalked forward, smirking. "Of course you wouldn't have learned your lesson about setting shit on fire, would you? But I want to kill you all myself."

The words barely even registered to Daniel; not only was the pressure blinding, the exhaustion was becoming painful. He couldn't stop the fire, but he didn't have the energy to keep it up either. The only thing in his ears was a low, constant hum. No, not a hum. A growl, intensifying even more quickly than the fire within. And it wasn't only him hearing it.

"Shut your heart and open your eyes!"

Lance jolted back to awareness just in time to see Flynn moving in on his copilot. No. "Daniel!" A flare of determination welled up inside of him, burning away at the ice. He wouldn't lose the kid too. But he felt clumsy as he raised his weapon, his reflexes warring with themselves. His usual instinct for a headshot wasn't working with him, he couldn't look Flynn in the eye and fire, he couldn't. So he steeled himself and went for the knee instead.

And missed.

Fuck! Sighting for a second shot, waiting for the crappy Drule gun to cycle, he felt panic gripping him. He wasn't going to be fast enough, and nobody else was close enough.

Except…

Toast had crawled to safety around Daniel's shoulders when the chaos began. Questionable safety, perhaps. But as Flynn threw a punch into his human's stomach, the salamander launched himself with a hiss, spitting a mouthful of embers and chomping down on his arm.

"…What the fuck?" Too confused to even be angry for a moment, Flynn stared blankly at the lizard clinging to his forearm. Then his attention turned to Lance, and the rage dulled still further. Something else was trying to well up in its place. It wasn't supposed to be like this…

"Back the fuck off the kid," Lance demanded in a ragged voice, holding his gun as steady as he could.

…Always cared more about that idiot though, didn't he. He shook his head, trying to dispel that thought; he didn't want it. It would only bring the anger back… but it was coming from the anger already, and it only got stronger as he tried to fight it down. "And what if I don't?" He threw the lizard at Daniel, who'd rolled away and was clutching his stomach. "Going to shoot me again? You did so well the first time."

"Don't do this." Lance tightened his grip on the gun. Flynn looked all wrong. "You wouldn't do this."

Wouldn't I? I wouldn't have… for an instant the words hurt, before fury washed it away. Enough. "I'll do what I want," he said coldly, "and I can't be bothered with you." Turning away, he sought out Keith again. There were too many damn distractions around here. "Come on, Commander Crystal Spur. Your teammates are trying to get themselves killed, will you just stand back and let them die, too?"

Commander Crystal Spur. Keith swallowed hard, gripping his sword, and moved forward. No. He wouldn't be letting anyone die here. He never had, damn it!

Behind him, Sven had taken cover with Hunk and the others, burnt and bruised and definitely out for this fight. He could feel Blue trying to help, a sensation of water on the burns, and while it wasn't exactly fixing anything he appreciated the attempt. Allura moved back too, still reeling from what she'd seen of the jaivur magic. Looking at Hunk's injury, she badly wanted to try to use her abilities to soothe it, just for what little bit she could… but she didn't completely trust herself to try it. Dispelling pain required a calm she hadn't quite regained.

Noticing their retreat, Pidge also pulled back to cover them. He felt too nauseous to do anything else, and that damn question kept ringing through his mind.

What are you afraid of?

This wasn't even fear. But he didn't have a word for it, not in English, not even in Baltan. So he clung to whatever shreds of duty he could find.

Lance felt himself drifting back into inaction, but a burst of flame grabbed his attention. "Daniel!" He rushed to the kid's side, wanting, needing the focus.

"I can't get it to stop." His eyes flared red, and another jet of fire sprang to one side; he cried out in pain as exhaustion followed. It felt like the pressure was going to tear him apart, but trying to force it down was only keeping it going.

"Then don't." Lance's eyes glowed too, not sure where the advice was coming from, but trusting it. "Just pick a spot and let it fly. Trust your instincts, you've got this." As he spoke he was pulling them both back as best he could—not too close to where the others had taken cover, but far enough from Flynn to be safe.

Far enough not to have to look, he hoped…

"Instinct is right. Trust yourself, Flamechaser."

What the hell did that even—no. Daniel forced himself not to fight it, to listen. Lance was there, Red was there. Instinct. Instead of his own lack of control he tried to focus on one spot, giving the energy a sharp shove with his mind instead of trying to smother it.

A gout of flame erupted, safely away from everyone, and he felt the pressure starting to ease.

Flynn wasn't paying attention to them. One at a time. His icy gaze was fixed on Keith as the commander approached, holding his sword at the ready. "This is going to hurt too," he said quietly.

It already does. "We'll see about that." Can't be predictable. He'd taken too many hits already in this fight; Flynn's strength had been dangerous even when he was alive. If his ability to take damage was any indication, undeath had increased that, and now he wasn't pulling his punches.

Without waiting for a response, he rushed forward, feinting left and slashing right at the last second.

It didn't fool Flynn a bit. Sidestepping, he dropped an elbow into Keith's shoulder on his follow through, and he cried out at the impact. The hell? It didn't make sense, and he tried to cover his surprise with bravado. "Back from the dead and you still hit like a Kejan." He took another quick slash to discourage any follow-up.

It didn't work. "Really? If that's how much you're crying when I barely hit you…" Again Flynn read the strike perfectly, countering with a sharp kick to his thigh, then stepping back and pacing around him. Reacting was easier, and he had full control of this fight.

"Kuso…" How is he doing that? As far as he knew, Flynn had barely ever even touched a sword in his life. Who'd ever heard of a zombie being smarter than when they were alive?

The word zombie didn't sit quite right, but it wasn't the greatest of his concerns and he didn't have time for semantics. Turning to track his opponent's movements, he launched a more complicated feint, faking a blow to either side before launching a full-on slash to the right. It worked a little better; Flynn dodged into the real strike, and he braced himself for the impact.

Only to have Flynn catch the blade in his hand.

"What…?"

He smirked as a trickle of blood ran down his arm. "Not good enough." Then he landed a kick to Keith's stomach, grabbing his arm as he flailed for balance and flinging him off to the side.

Sven felt like he'd been punched himself. Again, he knew that move. "That's Jace's," he whispered.

Vince looked over at him. "What?"

"That's… he's fighting like Jace." There was no mistaking it now.

"You're right." Pidge's eyes widened. "He said they were with him." What did that mean, exactly?

Fire had stopped spouting out around Daniel, and Lance dragged him the rest of the way to the debris everyone else was gathered around. He'd heard enough of the conversation to not want to hear more, but they needed to get under cover. As long as he didn't look, he could keep it together. He hoped.

Allura closed her eyes for a moment. "Perhaps that's part of it." Her voice came out weakly; breathing hurt, but she'd taken those injuries to get information. They needed to know. "I saw them, three of them. The spirits trapped in that… thing. One of them spoke to me. He said it's something called a jaivur, an undead creature. That the body has to die to free them."

Romelle gasped softly. "Oh, gods…"

Immediately Lance regretted getting closer. "What?"

"You saw what?" Pidge echoed, exchanging looks with Vince, who couldn't quite meet his gaze.

I don't understand…

"The source," Yellow Lion growled, in a tone of dawning understanding. "Something was done to the source—the bodies."

The bodies. Hunk looked at Vince too, eyes wide. On Korrinoth… "Oh, fuck." We are way past fuzzmuffins here.

Ignoring Yellow was getting harder and harder; Vince swallowed painfully. Because they were talking to me?

The lion hesitated a moment, and spoke only to him when he answered. "I do not know this magic. But it may be that whoever is responsible detected mine."

That hadn't been a no.

Daniel was utterly spent; parts of his body he didn't know could hurt were hurting. Whether he was calm or just burned out, literally, he couldn't be sure and really didn't care at the moment. Hearing Allura, he could only muster a ragged whisper, as much to Lance as to anyone. "No."

"Horrid magic," the princess murmured in agreement. "To do that…" How did they use that information now? There had to be something. Her mind went back to what Sven had said: he was fighting like one of the others.

Could it be…?

Keith had regained his feet, but slowly, and standing straight was more pain than it was worth. This wasn't quite as bad as the Protector on Takrekul, but it was getting there. And he wasn't seeing a way through.

"Are you finished already?" Flynn asked, moving forward with a malicious smirk.

He smirked back, looking much more confident than he felt. "Not even close." Have to keep him occupied. Keep him away from the others. He raised his blade into a defensive position, starting to slowly backpedal. Ideas for attacking ran through his head one after another, and he discarded most. But as long as he could keep up a defense…

He'd barely had the thought before Flynn slipped under his guard and landed a solid punch to his chest.

Staggering backwards, he fought for breath, growling in Japanese. "You sorry son of a bitch!" Now he was hurting about like he had with the lizard kangaroo…

"He never could've done that," Pidge said quietly.

This can't go on. Allura closed her eyes. Keith had to know. Black, tell him what he's facing. His dead teammates are in there, the monster is using their skills. Tell him they said not to hold back.

Black growled in acknowledgment. "Stormsoul, listen carefully, Stormheart has gained some information. What you face is an undead creation called a 'jaivur'; the spirits of your fallen are within. It must be destroyed to free them, and it was not lying when it claimed all three are present."

What? Keith blinked, looking at the thing that was Flynn, but also wasn't quite Flynn. It's a… he'd never heard of any such thing. Of course, there were a lot of things he'd learned about recently that he'd never heard of before. It's some kind of… corpse Voltron?

The lion gave a rather distressed growl. "I believe that may not be… wholly inaccurate?"

That news was certainly something, but he didn't have time to dwell on it further. Flynn had moved to take advantage of what looked like a moment's distraction, launching into a feint of his own, and Keith's eyes widened. He knew that move. He'd seen it—he'd taught it—and what Black was telling him crystallized into full understanding.

Cam. He knows what I'm going to do because of Cam. Knowing where the strike was going to go now, he raised his sword and blocked it cleanly. "Nice try." And he was good, but I'm better. With a snarl, he drove forward, pressing with a move Cam had never learned.

I never got the chance to teach him everything…

Flynn thought he saw where it was going, and the feint took him completely by surprise. At the last second he realized, and got an arm up to block—but the blade bit deep, and he cried out as it sliced through armor and to the bone. "Faex!"

Keith's eyes narrowed, and he pushed harder, driving the… jaivur… back. "I know you're in there now. Hear me. Fight it!"

His words drew a hiss of rage, and Flynn's eyes glowed with a vivid bright purple energy. "Fine," he growled, and the same energy gathered in his free hand. "No more games." Keith read the danger, but didn't have time to react to it—pulling his blade back out through the damaged armor plate took some work—and by the time he had it free it was too late to do anything else.

A blast of toxic energy flung him back.

"Whoa!"

"Salys sa kye…"

"Oh, fuck."

Keith came down several yards away, gasping for breath, and retreated to the rest of the team as Pidge and Allura moved up to steady him. But Flynn, or the creature that wasn't quite Flynn, didn't follow.

"Not my preference," he said quietly, glaring at where the team was clustered. This should've been so much simpler. "But I'll manage to enjoy this well enough." If he had to use the power the witch had given him, fine. As long as they died.

Gathering more energy in his hands, he flung a few more bursts and they scattered.

Pidge whirled and tackled Vince to the ground, feeling the heat as one of the bolts grazed him. He was still following Flynn's last order—even if it had to be against Flynn himself, nobody was taking that from him. Vince groaned as he hit the ground, but it was better than the alternative; his own attention was on his hands, both fearing and almost wishing for sparks to fly. Memories of the arena were filling his mind. It had been just like this, running from a monster they didn't understand, flailing to recover when everything seemed hopeless.

Lance had looked up just in time to regret it, and pushed Daniel out of the way with what might've been a little too much force. "Sorry, kid." He didn't just mean the push. So fucking sorry…

"Don't apologize," his copilot grunted, catching his breath. "Pain just means I'm not dead." Frown. "I'm so fucking over magic."

Hard to blame him for that.

Sven had tackled Romelle out of the way, and Hunk managed to shield Allura with his uninjured left side. Even if he got hit at this point it probably couldn't feel any worse.

"No…" Keith tried to move forward, unsteady on his feet, but he had to stop this. Somehow. Though the next few blasts didn't hit anything, and Flynn growled in what looked like frustration.

Looking up, Vince realized something; he knew it from experience. "He doesn't know what to do with it."

"We were having enough trouble when he didn't have magic at all," Sven pointed out. Him not knowing how to use it didn't help them much—then again, it was better than him knowing how to use it. Maybe they should take what they could get.

With a surge of effort, Keith managed to run the last few feet and land a new slash before being thrown back. Flynn cursed, trying to follow up, but the energy went wide. Damn it! The power wasn't intuitive—he felt like he needed to concentrate, but the seething rage made it impossible. Was he overthinking it? Underthinking it? This was ridiculous, if the witch had just given him a couple of spare magazines it would all be over already—

Something sharp drove into his back, squarely between his shoulder blades. "Faex!" It stung like hell, and he spun around to see… what the? About a dozen more of the local aliens were arrayed on a small rise behind him; a very angry-looking redhead was reloading her bow as the others leveled weapons his way. He gave an exasperated sigh, energy flaring between his hands. "This doesn't concern you. Leave."

"This is very much our concern," the woman at the head of the formation answered, staring him down as if he weren't, well, a magic-wielding undead. She took aim with her own bow, and he was too stunned by the audacity to even dodge as she loosed an arrow squarely into his stomach. "Cetapera kyval!"

With that, the Arusian militia opened fire.

Sven dared to exhale, even though he felt he should know better. "Talk about timing."

"No kiddin'…"

The rain of arrows, slingbow bolts, and lasers weren't doing any real damage to Flynn, but they were hurting. And they were irritating. This is what they call a target-rich environment… as he struggled to get his composure back, another Arusian appeared from behind the lines, charging him with an ornate sword. …Too much so.

He didn't have the patience for this nonsense.

Glancing back over his shoulder at the team, he met Keith's gaze with icy hatred. "This isn't over." Then he threw an energy burst at the approaching Arusian, conjured a blinding flare, and ran for it.

It didn't matter. He would have plenty of time.

*****

The flare of sickly purple energy faded as quickly as it had surged, leaving nothing but afterimages and scorched grass in its wake. And a very battered Voltron Force. Watching what might've been Flynn's shadow vanishing in the distance, Keith sank to the ground with a ragged sigh. "Ow…"

"Ow is fucking right," Sven agreed, sagging against the nearest chunk of stone. The sudden drop in fear and adrenaline meant his burns immediately hurt twice as badly. "We're going to need medical attention."

"How badly are you all hurt?" Allura asked, moving forward to check on Keith despite her own injuries. She'd never been so happy to see Larmina before—and she was generally quite happy to see her.

"Not great," Keith admitted; he wasn't going to be fooling anyone. "But someone needs to look at Hunk, he's going to need the most attention after that first shot." He hadn't even gotten a look at the wound himself, but anything that could keep the big guy out of the fight had to be the most serious.

Hunk blinked, looking at the gaping wound in his side. Romelle and Vince had managed to wrap the hole up with the vest he'd been wearing, more or less, but it still looked awfully messy. Which made his realization all the more worrisome. "I'm uh, not actually all that ow right now. Which I kinda think might be a bad sign."

No, that was definitely not a good sign. Romelle stood on shaky legs. "Medics. Yes. We need medics…"

As soon as she was certain the enemy was really gone, Captain Sarial nodded to her troops. Most of them had brought medkits along. As they rushed forward, she took a moment to pull out her commset and call in the real medics; Doctor Gorma and a couple of his people were on standby. They hadn't known exactly what they would be facing out here.

For that matter, she still wasn't certain what they'd faced out here. Except for one thing, of course. Magical bullshit. She gave Miralna a quick nod, and the knight headed back towards the castle to escort the medics. Just in case.

Larmina raced into the middle of the group; she was probably going to have to translate. "Okay, who's got burns?" Whoever they'd just shot at had been throwing energy blasts around, burns seemed likely. "We have a lot of burn salve, ninja can vouch for it."

"The stuff works," Pidge agreed reluctantly. He felt like hell, but was pretty sure he was in decent shape physically. Just bruises and an overwhelming urge to vomit—and really, that last part wasn't physical either.

"Me," Sven said quickly.

As a couple of the militia moved up to treat Sven's burns, Daniel looked over at him and winced. Fuck, I did that. I totally did that. The guilt made his guts churn, but he couldn't stew in it now. Lance needed him. Or at least he hoped Lance needed him. "Lance, are you hurt at all?"

Am I hurt? He wasn't quite sure how to answer that question. Flynn hadn't touched him. Fucking yeah. "No." Panicking and in a heap of desperate denial, but not hurt.

Fuck, he hurt…

As the other scouts spread out to do initial checks on the rest of the team, Romelle looked over at Allura. Something she'd said earlier kept tugging at her thoughts. "Are you sure those… trapped… said jaivur?" she asked hesitantly. The word was almost familiar, and now that she had time to think, she thought she knew…

"Yes." The princess nodded. "He was very clear about that."

"What the fucking is a 'jaivur'?" Larmina had taken it on herself to treat her aunt's wounds, though there wasn't really much to do but administer numbing salve. "Actually, what the fucking did we just save you from, generally?"

"A vicious undead thing," Allura answered with a wince.

"Our friends," Vince said quietly at the same moment. He wasn't sure why it had slipped out. Maybe just to try to convince himself all of this was real. He didn't want to have to believe it was real…

"Didn't seem friendly," Larmina said simply, and he grimaced.

They were when they were ghosts.

Daniel looked over and snorted. "Yeah well he was dead, so. That'd put anyone in a bad mood." He'd been hoping the snark would help ease either the guilt gnawing at his stomach or the pain gnawing at everywhere; no such luck. It had been worth a try.

The Arusian looking over Hunk had broken out the antiseptic; he gave a strangled squawk, the stuff burned. Vince hovered a little closer to him, and Romelle knelt and squeezed his hand. "Romelle, you uh—owww—you know about these jaivur things?"

"Not exactly. I think I might know something, but…" She shook her head. "Don't worry about it right now."

"I wanna—ow!—worry about it," he protested through gritted teeth. Hearing what she knew might be helpful, and they were going to need all the help they could get. Hearing what she knew would definitely distract him from—"Holy fuzzmuffins, are you sure that stuff's healthy?!"

The scout recoiled slightly, and Hunk waved him back with an apologetic grimace. Wasn't his fault.

Understanding what he wanted now, Romelle nodded, and was aware she had pretty much the whole team's attention. "The word sounds like a derivative of Jaivern… a Drule deity, the Beast of Undeath. I don't really know much about it except that it exists, and belongs to the domain of their death goddess, Sarga." She'd learned very little about Sarga, except… only one person on Korrinoth would dare. "But it fits with what we saw."

Yellow Lion growled softly. "Her words make sense, Earthwarder. It would have to be powerful magic to break the Earth's contact with the dead. Powerful enough to be worshipped as a god, perhaps."

Well that sounded less than promising… he winced, and wasn't the only one. But then he saw someone who looked very doctor-y racing towards them from the castle, and breathed a weak sigh of relief. At least there was a little good news.

Daniel noted Gorma's arrival, right about the same time as Hanso finished wrapping his newly bruised ribs. With a nod of thanks, he turned back to Lance, who was shivering. Violently. "Ow… hey! You cold?"

Cold? He didn't feel cold. "What?" His teeth chattered a bit as he spoke.

That really didn't seem good. "You're shivering, dude." Red, make with the warmth.

Lance blinked, and all at once the chill penetrated his awareness. Fuck. He was cold, he was freezing—he hadn't felt cold since he'd bonded to Red. The sensation was odd. As he thought it, warmth curled around him, though it didn't really stop the shivers.

"I think it is shock, Firestriker."

Yeah, it probably would be.

"Come on, let's go sit down." Daniel led him to a slightly softer patch of grass. "You can have my hoodie. Not like I'm half your size or anything." He pulled it off and tried to wrap the pilot up in it; Lance just let him do what he wanted. The fog was gathering in his mind again as what they'd seen began to sink in.

Flynn…

After grudgingly allowing one of the scouts to treat the bruises on his throat, Pidge found himself looking at Larmina. Green's presence was strong in his mind, purring with… not happiness, exactly, but satisfaction. And the militia turning up, with weapons and medical supplies? "How did you know to come out here?"

She snorted. "Your lion wouldn't shut up until I agreed."

"And you will both pretend to believe that, I'm sure."

"Yes," they both answered in unison.

Gorma had been checking over Hunk's wound, and it didn't really take that much checking. It was bad. "This is going to need surgery. Get this man on one of the medical sleds, we're taking him to the infirmary at once."

Still holding Hunk's hand—he seemed like he needed it—Romelle translated for the others. Vince stood up immediately. "I'm going too."

"As am I." Sven probably belonged in the infirmary, really. The burn salve was working to dull the pain, but that didn't mean there wasn't any damage. More importantly, he was certain nobody on the team needed to be alone right now.

Himself included, again.

"We're coming too." Daniel had just assumed guardianship of Lance for the foreseeable future, though Lance himself did manage a weak nod. The group was in pretty sorry shape.

And you did nothing.

"Sounds like the entire team is coming along," Keith said, cautiously climbing to his feet. "I hope there's room." He definitely needed it too; his injuries were bad enough that one of Gorma's apprentices had taken over for the scout that had been treating him. But the doctor still raised a skeptical eyebrow as Allura relayed what he'd said.

"…Fine, but they stay out of my team's way."

"I'm sure they will," Captain Sarial assured him. …Do no such thing. But she wasn't going to stop them. She understood it.

Allendar eyed Hunk for a moment, then looked back at Larmina and Hanso. "We're gonna need a bigger sled…"

At a questioning look from Hunk, Romelle shrugged and translated; he laughed until it hurt. Which didn't take much, to be fair. Then he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be a cool scar, yeah?"

"Yeah." She tried to laugh for him, though it wasn't easy. "You're going to be okay." You've got to be okay.

As the group started making their way to the tunnels, Vince paused long enough to look at the ground behind them. There were scorched clearings and deep gouges in the meadow, a pool of blood where Hunk had been taking shelter. It had been bad enough from the very first moment. But now they knew Flynn had been holding back. That thought was as chilling as the information Allura had given them. That thing their friends were trapped in had been toying with them, and they'd barely made it out.

And he was still out there, they were still out there. Somewhere.

Is it because I was talking to them? Is all of this my fault?

Swallowing hard, he turned and followed the others inside.