Black's radar scans for something, anything, in the old battlefield, like it has been for far too long. Shiro is looks intently at it, while remembering the final battle against Zarkon. He remembers the screams he hadn't been able to take in, due to his own pain, and finding the empty Red. He sighs deeply.

"There's nothing out here, Coran," Shiro grumbles, depressed.

"I'm sorry, Shiro."

"I'm coming hom- back," Shiro corrects himself, because the Castle is no longer home, not without his kid.

Shiro turns Black around. Coran walks in on Allura sniffing her dress. Allura notices Coran and her eyes widen.

"I'm worried it smells a bit musty. It's been awhile since I've had to look presentable," Allura explains.

"The Cubserions just declared independence after a thousand years of oppression, so they probably won't notice," Coran smiles.

"Then why am I getting all puffed up like a Trufalian merengue? This is going to be a serious diplomatic meeting."

Coran grabs the end of Allura's dress and fluffs it up, "Remember, Princess, 70% of diplomacy is appearance. Then 29% is manners, decorum, formalities and chit-chat. It only about 1%, uh-"

"Serious business about fighting for the freedom of the universe?"

"Yes, that. Oh, and I forgot hors d'oeuvres. Oh, that's at least 2%, so I'll have to recalculate my..."

"We just freed these planets, do you really think they're ready to come together to fight the Galra?"

"I don't think it's a question of wanting to fight back, but of believing that it's possible. It's up to you to give them that faith."

"It should be Voltron."

"We can't always put the fate of the universe in the hands of a giant weapon. At least, that's what your father believed."

Blue and Yellow are being chased after by Galra fighter jets, many of them exploding.

"About 30 ticks to the drop zone. You ready, Kolivan?" Lance asks.

"Affirmative," Kolivan confirms.

Suddenly, the Blue Lion is being fired at by towers on the ground.

"Hold on, evasive action underway!"

The Lions destroy the towers firing at them.

"Lance, I think we just passed the drop zone," Hunk calls.

"We're under heavy fire, there's no way we can stop here. Kolivan, any ideas?"

"Open the hatch. We'll take it from here. Go! Go! Go!" Kolivan orders his Blades.

He ushers his men out of the hatch of the Blue Lion and then follows himself. They drop to the ground, before running into the broken-down town full of Galra sentries, taking them down. A large cannon begins to charge up, from its place high in an overhang.

"Think you're pretty good, huh? Can you handle this?" Lance 'backflips' midair in his Lion, shooting the ship that was chasing after him, which explodes without effort, "Didn't think so. Hunk, you got a fighter right on your six!"

"Yeah, and I'm about to teach this sentry a lesson about tailgating," Hunk pulls back, smashing right into the fighter jet.

Kolivan then comes through their radio, "Paladins, can you hear me?"

"We hear you, what's up?" Lance replies.

"We're pinned down by heavy artillery. We need air support."

The large cannon is firing at the town, where the Blade of Marmora men are trapped.

"I see it. I'll take it out!" Lance goes to fire at the cannon, but it focuses its attention on him, "Uh oh! I can't get a safe angle of attack!"

"Maybe not from the front," Hunk pilots behind the rock structure the cannon is placed on, drill like tools appearing on his Lion's feet.

He drills through the rock, the cannon being destroyed. The Galra ships flee and the two Lions hover near the ground.

"It appears the Galra forces are evacuating," Kolivan informs them.

"Yeah, and stay out!" Hunk quips.

"Let's set 'em down over there and get ready for the parade," Lance replies.

They do just that, leaving the Lions sitting there. Lance takes pictures with three girls, smile not as realistic or as bright as before the final fight.

"Now this is the kind of world-saving that a Paladin can get used to!" Lance cheers.

Hunk is being offered multiple platters of food by some older people, "Whoo! You got that right! Oh, methinks I'll try this one with all the legs," the 'food' growls, "Nope! Still alive!"

The people that they had saved gather on the ground below the two Lions, look up at them in awe. One of the elders look over to the Blade of Marmora and growls in suspicion, the others around him following suit. Kolivan looks away, ashamed, before Hunk walks up chewing on food.

"You know, based on our recent battles, it seems like the Empire is kinda just falling apart," Hunk observes.

"It's more than that. Look," Kolivan turns to a mountain.

"Whoa!" Lance takes a picture of a picture of Voltron carved into the rock.

"Word of Voltron's triumph is spreading."

"Yeah, I guess the only problem is that we can't form Voltron anymore," Hunk frowns.

"That cannot stand. The universe needs Voltron."

"Lions of Voltron, the people of Puig thank you for delivering us from the evil hands of the Galra empire," a native smiles.

"Don't forget the Blade of Mamora. We couldn't have done it without Kolivan and his team," Lance smiles softly.

"It was our honor," Kolivan answers.

The man and everyone surrounding him share a look of distaste.

The man spits out the first word, "Yes. I want to pledge to you that every able-bodied Puigian will join Voltron in the fight against the Galra. Speaking of Voltron, where is it?"

The crowd begins cheering, calling out for Voltron. It turns into a chant. Lance smiles nervously, while Hunk leans to him in a discreet (read: actually not discreet) way.

"I think this might be a problem," Hunk whispers.

Back in the Castle, the footage of Matt's escape from the Empire prison is being played over and over, Pidge staring at it intently. They have a brother to save.

"Oh, number five, you're back! How was your mission?" Coran asks.

"I talked to some members of the desert tribe on Planet Kythra who have these same large feathered ears. They're not friendly to Zarkon, but they couldn't help me identify the person in the footage. So, that's a dead end. Now, these flappy, loosey, pant-thingies..."

"Are skort pantaloons. Very breathable."

"Right. They're traditionally worn by the Tando people."

"Yes, in the Valurian quadrant."

"Right, that's on the other side of the galaxy. And what's this mask thing that they all have on their faces?"

"Hm, no idea. But it appears to be the perfect blend of fashion and function."

"Okay, so, my brother was either taken by intergalactic fashion pirates, or... maybe the outer reaches of these galaxies are occupied by freedom fighters that are starting to work together against the Galra Empire."

"You know, I don't mind telling you this, but I was considered a bit of an intergalactic fashion pirate in my day. I used to have a bogwaggle cape that I trained to sing my theme song whenever I entered a room," Coran chuckles gleefully.

"Maybe this will help. While I was gone, I had the system analyze the sound of the explosion from the prison break."

Pidge plays the sound for Coran, which is then quickly analyzed.

"Huh. Nanothermite titanium-boron. Hey, maybe we can track that!"

"Good idea. While you do that, I'm going to check in with Lance and Hunk and see how things went on Planet Puig."

Everyone gathers in the lounge area. Lance and Hunk are the only ones with their Paladin armor on, showing that they just arrived back from Puig.

"They haven't figured out their flatbread situation yet, but what they do with those centipedes is just out of this world," Hunk reports.

"And they're totally ready to join the fight against the Galra," Lance interjects.

"Nice!" Pidge smiles.

"We brought back a few of their leaders to join the coalition," Hunk adds.

"That's splendid, excellent work!" Allura praises.

"You know, I gotta say, this is what it's all about... freein' the people, lovin' the ladies, then bombin' down the road again looking for adventure, Voltron style," Lance smiles.

"Which brings up a little issue. They all want to see Voltron, only we don't really have Voltron anymore," Hunk points out, the room' s atmosphere growing colder, darker.

Shiro's fists clench, "We don't have Keith anymore, either. Everyone seems to have forgotten that."

Everyone flinches at the cold tone, masking deep anger, hatred and self-hatred.

"We have not. However, it may be difficult for us all to accept, but it is time to think about finding a new pilot for the Red Lion. I fear we do not have a choice," Allura answers, regret covering her face.

All four of the remaining Paladins look the Allura in surprise.

"No. I'm gonna find him. Keith is the one person who never gave up on me, I won't give up on him," Shiro stands up and leaves, unaware of how Keith feels the same.

Everyone looks down sadly as he does. He's grieving the most, but they all lost a member of their family.

Shiro stands outside Keith's room. He hasn't entered it, not for some time. It is Keith's room, his safe space. No one goes in without Keith's permission. Shiro rests a hand on the locked door, forehead resting against it.

"Yurak, where are you?" Shiro whispers, tears falling in the privacy granted by the constantly deserted hallway.

It is rare that anyone sleeps here anymore, mostly sleeping together in the lounge. No one wants to be alone, now that they are aware of how easy it can be to lose each other.

At Central Command, Zarkon lays on a bed, his eyes closed. Haggar stands across the room and watches over his body.

She leaves the room and speaks to a druid, "No one is to be allowed in Emperor Zarkon's chamber."

"Vrepit sa."

"Excuse me," a Commander asks Haggar.

"What is it, Commander Throk?"

"Would it be possible to speak to Zarkon today? Another planet was lost to rebellion and I feel he must be informed."

"Zarkon is fully briefed on all imperial matters. He certainly doesn't need your input."

"Of course. It is just that I fear if we do not take decisive action soon, the Empire will crumble completely. Rebel activity should be crushed with our full might before more planets are inspired to fight against us."

"Lotor has arrived at headquarters at Zarkon's request to take command of the Empire. Under Zarkon's guidance, of course."

"Lotor? Why is he not at his father's bedside?"

"Zarkon needs no one by his bedside, least of all you!"

Haggar walks away from Throk. Nearby, a red skinned girl uncloaks from some sort of invisibility or camouflage and smirks.

Back in the castle, the Paladins and the two Alteans are sat at a dinner table, with a variety of aliens sit across from them, looking at one another.

"It is our honor to have you all here together," Allura smiles.

"I had the biggest bunker back on Puig, but it wasn't nearly this nice," the Puigian man speaks up.

"Well, I spent the last decade sleeping in a spiny thistle thicket. You look wonderful though, Princess. I'm glad I put on my best tarp," a green man speaks up.

Allura smiles gratefully. Hunk then walks up behind the visitors, wearing an apron and carrying a small tray.

"Welcome, everyone, welcome! I've prepared a few Earth canapes for our distinguished guests to enjoy while we talk galactic diplomacy," Hunk places the food down and the aliens gape.

"The Blade of Marmora has gathered this intelligence. As you can see, the Galra Empire is still the most massive ruling force the universe has ever seen. The sheer size of it is almost incomprehensible. It seems like it could rule another 10,000 years," Kolivan declares.

A smaller man tries to eat, but he is frozen in his spot and shaking in fear. Lance and Pidge lean towards one another, each frowning.

"Not the way I would have started this pep talk, but okay," Lance whispers to them.

"However, we are beginning to see increase in rebel activity throughout the Empire," Kolivan adds.

The holographic map lights up with various rebel locations. The representatives are in awe. Allura stands.

"We have a strategy to bring these forces together, free more planets, grow our numbers and accumulate an army than can defeat the Galra in major battles," Allura explains, as the map fades, "but without your help it will be impossible."

The purple alien's electronic voice grabs everyone's attention, "The forces will all fight behind Voltron, right?.

"Yes, where is Voltron?" the Puigian man asks.

Allura looks slightly alarmed, "Th-the people you see before you are in the Paladins of Voltron. Together, they pilot the mighty lions that form the great warrior."

"Excellent! Can they form Voltron now?"

"Uh, well..."

"We can't form Voltron. We can fly the lions, but Voltron is not a possibility," Shiro explains, getting straight to the point, fists clenched again.

The representatives gasp, looking disheartened.

"What he means is that right now they can't do it, but-" Allura tries to add,

"But nothing. Keith is gone. He was the Paladin of the Red Lion and, until we find him, we can't form Voltron," Shiro explains, making the situation very clear.

The representatives are disheartened.

"The Lions are still a substanial fighting forces and this castle is also a considerable weapon. The Blade of Marmora can lead you," Kolivan tries to help,

"My people have been enslaved for centuries by soldiers who look exactly like you," the purple alien speaks up.

"Yes! Our people have heard the legend of Voltron, how he defeated Zarkon. That is what gave them hope. What are we suppose to tell them now?" the Puigian man adds.

Shiro stands, "Tell them to stand up and fight with the Lions! With us! We just need time! Voltron will return!"

Shiro walks out. The doors open and shut behind him.

Hunk chuckles weakly, "Pizza roll? Pig in a blanket?"

"I'll have a pizza roll," the Puigian man says.

In the Empire's arena, the crowd roar. A beast in the center of the ring roars and charges his opponent.

"I tried to speak with Lord Zarkon today, but the witch stopped me again," Commander Throk tells another Galra.

"I fear the Emperor's condition may be worst than want she is tellung us. I'm not sure he will ever return to the throne."

"Agreed. And now Prince Lotor is taking over? We've fought by Zarkon's side forever and we are passed over by this exiled brat."

"I've heard rumors he fights along his enlisted men like a lowly private."

"Worse than that, his top generals aren't even pure Galra. They are half-breeds at best. He has no honor. Some say he allows the planets he conquers to continue to rule themselves. Can you imagine?"

The slim gladiator dodges another sword strike.

"Clearly, he's a dangerous lunatic. I've already spoken with the other officers in my sector. They've all agreed to back me, if I fight for the throne. Normally, I would never think of such a thing, but..."

"What choice do we have?"

"Then, you'll support me?"

"Yes."

Throk smiles. The blades clang in the background as they turn their attention to the fight.

"Who's this little fellow?" The Galra asks.

"I don't know. I've never seen him before."

The crowd cheers. The gladiator flips over the much taller opponent and lands, dodging and rolling out of the way of the sword-club swings. The beast swings again, noticing his opponent gone. Said opponent appears from the other side disarming him. The warrior falls to the ground. The victor take off his helmet, revealing long platinum blonde hair and a lavender face.

Throk's eyes widen in horror and shock, "Lotor!"

Lotor draws a fallen sword from the ground, pointing upwards, "Throk! You wish to challenge me? Then come down and claim your crown."

The crowd gasps and whispers. Plenty of people are side-eyeing him now.

"True Galra do not take the throne by stirring up insurrection in darkened chambers They rise through honorable rite of combat. Defeat me here and throne is yours."

The Galra audience cheers in approval. An audience member reaches for their cloak and takes it off. Four people in the same unique armor as Lotor reveal themselves. A large woman with blue fur and large eyes (similar to Sendak's), the woman with red skin, a woman with no eyes or a mouth and a growling cat and a blue skinned woman with blue hair and yellow eyes. Throk is surrounded. He stands.

"I gladly accept your offer. Now, all will see who is the rightful leader," Throk steps into the arena, "I have fought thousands of battle and leave many enemies much more fearsome than you wasting on the battlefield."

Throk charges with an aggressive yell and violent swordplay. Lotor parries and dodges calmly, seemingly unruffled. Lotor parries another stroke, which takes a few locks of hair.

"You have flawless technique, that I'll grant you. Still, you must realize at some point that your repetitive attacks are getting you nowhere."

Throk attacks again with an angry growl, igniting another fierce clash of blades. Lotor attacks with an elbow jab, knocking the wind from him, and slices Throk's sword in two, ending with a rather dramatic finish. Throk tumbles to the ground and Lotor levels his sword at his throat.

"Your tactics are stale and, in the end, your own aggression is your undoing."

The crows chants, "Lotor! Lotor! Lotor!"

Lotor withdraws the sword. Throk is surprised.

"My father built our empire on the bones of his enemies, but the time has come to change the old ways and inspire not fear from those we rule, but loyalty. We must not waste our energy fighting to keep our subjects down, but rather multiply by allowing the worthy to rise and join our ranks," Lotor offers a hand to Throk, "The Universe can no longer doubt our strength. Each ally gained only makes us stronger. While those who continue to stand against us... will be crushed."

Throk takes his hand and Lotor pulls him up.

"Lotor, we pledge our loyalty to you. Vrepit Sa."

His generals salute. Slowly, the entire arena stands and salutes. The Galra from earlier does the same.

The crowd chants again, "Lotor! Lotor! Lotor!"

The four generals are waiting in the corridor. They eyeless general pets her cat. As Lotor approaches, the Four Generals stand at attention, saluting.

"That went well," the Red General says.

"The masses are easily manipulated. Have Throk transferred out to the Ulippa system immediately. Let him rot with the ice worms," Lotor grins, before his face falls slightly, "Find out everything you can about the Champion and his companions."

Shiro, now in civilian clothes, looks at Red, who is still lying sprawled on her side. The others are standing behind him and the team slowly looks to their left, before Lance steps up.

"Hey man...listen. We all miss Keith. I remember what a thrill it was just to meet him for the first time when the two of us carried you out of that Garrison hospital," Lance smiles at the memory.

"The stories he had to tell of you and Matt... I have even more blackmail now than I had before Kerberos," Pidge speaks up.

"The guy helped teach how to enjoy living life in space and not feel homesick constantly! He helped me with flying! I didn't improve much, but that's more on me," Hunk laughs softly.

Lance turns to Shiro, eyes searching him, looking to see if his words are getting though, "You're not the only one hurting, man. We're all right there with you, but you know that he would be the first one to tell us that we have to move on."

Shiro looks down sadly, before looking at Lance, gaze confident, but cold.

"Shiro, I know exactly how you feel, but our mission is bigger than any one individual, even those who are completely irreplaceable," Allura answers.

"I know you're right," Shiro's gaze shifts towards the floor and then towards Red and he sighs, "I've always known. It's time to figure out how to reform Voltron."

Red still doesn't react.