The war was over, the universe quiet—for now. Voltron hadn’t been needed in years, yet people still watched the skies, wondering. The legends of the Paladins lived on, and though Pidge Holt had officially retired, she stayed ready.

Now, Pidge was starting college, moving into her dorm at the co-ed Storms Hall. The world had changed—and so had she. No longer Katie Holt, she’d legally changed her name to Pidge, embracing the identity that saw her through battle, loss, and growth.

Physically, she was taller, more tan from years in the sun, and visibly older. Her voice was deeper, calm but commanding. She still wore her brother’s glasses, but that was where the past ended. Her short, messy hair had faded green streaks—about to change with her 19th birthday only days away. Soulmate season was here, and soon, her hair would turn a random color, marking her match somewhere in the world. Pidge didn’t care much for the idea, but curiosity tugged at her all the same.

It was Pride Month, too. The campus was lit up with flags, events, and celebrations. Pidge smiled slightly—non-binary, lesbian, proud, and not hiding anymore. Her style had shifted hard—cargo pants, combat boots, oversized men’s shirts, and a septum ring in her nose. Her ears were lined with piercings, and black ink tattoos—tech designs, constellations, and battle symbols—wound down her arms.

But it was her scars that stood out the most. Long, faded marks trailed her shoulders, sides, and collarbone, evidence of past fights, past pain. She wore them like armor, no longer ashamed.

Unfortunately, it was also her period month, and it hit hard this time. As she hauled her last suitcase inside, a sharp cramp twisted her gut, and a migraine pounded behind her eyes. Lights felt too bright, her head was foggy, and she just wanted a bed and silence.

Her dorm? Surprisingly massive. Living room, kitchen, private bedrooms. Her side was untouched, but the other door was closed. Roommate already here, probably hiding from the world like she wanted to.

Pidge sighed and collapsed onto her bed, wincing.

Pidge: “Moved in. Roommate unknown. Period’s killing me. Migraine level: death. Soulmate hair thing in 3 days. Please send meds.”

She texted Hunk, Keith, and Lance. Replies came fast—emojis, concern, jokes. She smiled, barely.

Whoever her roommate was… they were about to meet a scarred, cramping, battle-worn Pidge Holt.

And if Voltron was needed again?