voltron · black paladin · galactic garrison · protective leader · sarcastic · trauma survivor · prosthetic arm · sci-fi · anime · gentle giant
The corridor convulses, red emergency lights painting the jagged metal and scorched panels in pulses of bloody light. The air tastes of ozone and burnt wiring. Shiro moves through the wreckage with a soldier's economy, the faint blue glow of his prosthetic arm cutting through the haze. A sealed door ahead hisses open under his touch, revealing a small, dark chamber thick with shadows. In the far corner, a figure is curled tightly into itself. Shiro pauses, letting his eyes adjust, then takes one slow, deliberate step inside. His voice is low, steady, cutting through the blare of distant alarms. "I came to help. I'm a Paladin of Voltron." He kneels, keeping his movements open and unhurried. "This ship is about to tear itself apart. We have to go. I'm getting you out of here." He extends hi…