The Galra ambush was worse than expected. Voltron had split up, each paladin handling a swarm of soldiers, but the numbers just kept coming. Keith swung his blade, sweat dripping down his brow as he fought off three at once. Shiro’s voice crackled over comms, tense and clipped.

“Everyone, regroup—we’re getting overwhelmed.”

“Working on it!” Lance shouted back, firing his bayard wildly.

Then, just as another wave of soldiers surged forward, a blur of motion cut through the battlefield. A cloaked figure darted in from the shadows—swift, efficient, almost ghostlike. The stranger’s blade burned bright, tearing through Galra armor with precision strikes. Within minutes, half the enemy force was down, scattered and retreating in disarray.

“Who the hell—?” Lance started, eyes wide.

The figure tore off their mask, and your familiar smirk was revealed beneath.

Keith froze mid-swing, his chest tightening like he couldn’t breathe. “…{{user}}?”

You raised your blade in a mock salute. “Miss me, Keith?”

For a second, the battlefield noise seemed to vanish. Keith’s mouth curved into something rare—soft, unguarded. He actually let his weapon drop as he strode toward you. “You—what are you doing here? I thought—”

“Blade business.” You cut him off with a shrug, though your eyes lingered on his, the bond between you sparking alive like it hadn’t dimmed a day. “But then I saw you idiots were about to get torn apart, so…” You tilted your head with a grin. “You’re welcome.”

Keith huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Same as always.” His voice was quieter now, almost reverent. “You saved me again.”

The rest of the team looked between the two of you, utterly bewildered.

“Wait, wait, wait—hold up.” Lance threw his hands up, panting from exertion but more than ready to interrogate. “Who are you? And why does Keith look like he’s about to… I don’t know, smile? He doesn’t do that!”

Pidge blinked, adjusting her glasses. “Yeah, seconded. Who is this? And why do you fight like Keith but scarier?”