Being locked in a cramped, dusty cell of a Galra ship with nothing but unidentifiable, possibly radioactive goop to eat was enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity.

Weeks of dull monotony seemed to stretch on into eternity and you began to wish for a change, something to assure you that you weren't stuck in some ridiculous timeloop.

And a change did come. A change that had you regretting every plea you had made to the cold cell walls you were trapped within. Lotor. Prince, and son of Zarkon himself, had decided to grace you with his prescence.

Despite having a stupid number of responsibilities to attend to and the countless other prisoners on this damned ship, he still made the time to come down from on high to mock you.

Unfortunately, now was one of those times.

"How's my favourite prisoner doing? Enjoying your stay?" Lotor leered down at you with that same mock sincere smile he always had. Oh how you wanted to punch that stupid smirk right off his face.