Lance was strapped down to the table. There were bright lights above him and a large machine that were above his stomach.

Lance felt his heart drop when he heard Haggar tell her workers to mark any symptoms.

Lance was scared of this. He was scared of Haggar. He didn't know what happened.

Sure, he was told it was a little power stealing and maybe, deep down, he knew what that meant, but he didn't want to believe it.

Lance's arms were untied and he was lifted from the table by galra soldiers. He was brought to another room.

Before Lance was thrown into the room, he saw Pidge in the hallway. She was being brought right to the extraction table.

She was going to have her powers stolen too, just like Lance. Lance knew she would be hit harder by that.

Lance didn't fight earlier but he did now. He didn't want to person who was like a little sister to him to be hurt.

Lance kicked and thrashed. Pidge looked over at him, pain and sadness in her eyes. Sha gave Lance a worried smile but Lance didn't return it.

Lance was shoved into the room and had the door closed behind him. The moment he was left alone, his thoughts started roaring.

The room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller. The air was getting tighter and tighter. Everything was closing in on Lance and he couldn't breath.

Lance heaved and heaved and almost passed out. It was too hot, too stuffy. Lance wanted to take off his shirt but siding have the energy.

His mind wandered over to Keith and the other paladins. He thought about what they were doing now, if they were coming to help Pidge and him out.

Lance wondered about how much worse it could get. His powers were gone, his head was pounding, he was so close to passing out.

Lance focused on breathing. His mind wandered but every time he thought something, he snapped his thoughts back to his breathing.

Heaving and heaving. He could hear nothing but his breathing. His breathing and a small click.

Lance opened his eyes slowly. Lance was tired and sweating so, so much. He saw blues of colors.

Blacks, grays, a whole lot of purple. A figure, a person walking towards him. Lance couldn't tell who, just that he was galra.

Lance huffed and watched painfully. His eyes hurt at the bright lights. His body ached at any small movement.

He was sure people were watching him. He was sure they were marking what was happening to him.

"Imagine losing something close to you. It could be a part of you, like an arm or leg. But it could also be a notebook, a necklace, or a type of food," the figure said.

His voice was deep and gravely. It wasn't pleasant at all, wasn't helping Lance at all.

"Imagine that."

Lance didn't imagine. Lance couldn't.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back down against the wall again. Lance didn't have the energy to respond and do all that.

"You know they know what this is. They could help you out of this sickness, but they won't."

Lance, with his energy of doing nothing else, responds, "what's going on with Pidge?"

"Who?" asks the man.

"Little gremlin. Little electric gremlin who brought me here."

"Ah, she'll be... alright. They might help her before helping you, she's more helpful to them."

Lance groaned lightly. He felt like shit.

"This whole sickness is a side effect of the machine. It's a type of torture method that Haggar likes to talk about to her teammates."

"You're her teammate?"

"You could put it that way. I guess I'm higher up then her, she reports to me."

"She does?"

Lance cowers back. If Haggar hurt him and this guy is more powerful than Haggar, then he was most definitely going to hurt Lance.

"Clam down. Yes, she reports to me but I'm not going to hurt you. I believe you can help us more than Pidge."

Lance turns away, "why do you think that?"

"I'll heal you if you're willing to listen."

Lance nods meekly. As much as he knows he shouldn't trust galra soldiers, much less ones higher up than Haggar, he doesn't want to sit on the ground alone, feeling like he was dying.

A minute passes till the guy comes back with a drink. It looks like a smoothie or slushie, Lance doesn't care.

Lance downs it all quickly, hearing the mans chuckles in his ear. Lance doesn't register it's weird taste or funny smell.

Lance should've thought about this deal before he drank. Lance woke up into darkness, a land of black that looked an awful lot like a desert.

Lance doesn't know what he's doing there, what anything is in there. Not until he hears one word, a simple question.

"Lance?"