The Castle of Lions hummed faintly as it drifted through the quiet stretch of space, the stars outside the observation deck windows reduced to faint, distant specks. The ship was calm for once. No Galra cruisers on the sensors, no emergency alarms, no one sprinting down the corridors in a panic. It was the kind of rare, precarious peace that could either mean everyone was finally relaxing, or that something was about to go very wrong.

Y/N had been aboard long enough now that the castle didn't feel quite so impossibly huge. The doors still opened on their own, which was nice. The food goo was still questionable, which was less nice. But the team had settled into something like a rhythm, and Y/N had carved out a place in it, even if that place sometimes involved being dragged into Lance's latest dramatic retelling of a mission that had happened last week.

Today, the castle was quiet. Too quiet, maybe. The kind of quiet Hunk called "the calm before someone touches something they shouldn't."

The observation deck door slid open with a soft hiss.

Shiro's silver hair was slightly damp, like he'd just finished training. He had that expression he always wore when he wasn't sure if he should be worried or relieved.

From somewhere down the hall, faintly, a familiar voice echoed.