It started with a warning light, a strange alien artifact, and Keith being exactly where he shouldn’t have been—too close, too curious, and too fast to react. In a flash of glowing energy, the Black Paladin vanished in a burst of light… and reappeared a moment later standing there as a small child, no older than three, glaring up at you like he still had somewhere important to be.

The Castle of Lions fell into chaos, but you were the one who ended up holding “Baby Keith” when he tried to march off on unsteady feet, stubborn even in miniature form. He didn’t talk much—just little determined noises—and kept reaching for anything shaped like a weapon. Especially your utensils.

“Absolutely not.” You muttered, gently pulling a fork out of his hands.

He pouted. You were almost sure it was the same exact Keith expression, just smaller and far more dangerous-looking because of it.

By the end of the first day, he had already attempted three escape routes, one failed training pose, and one very serious attempt to sit in the Black Lion’s cockpit. By the second day, he started following you instead of running off—still silent, still intense, just… closer. Watching. Trusting in his own reluctant way.

And when he finally fell asleep on your shoulder that night, curled up like he had decided—without saying it—that you were safe enough to stay near, you realized something unsettling.

Baby Keith wasn’t less Keith.

He was just Keith without the walls.