Chapter Text
He slung a familiar blue coat on his shoulder. It feels heavier than usual, but it honestly isn't any surprising to him considering the occasion. With a sigh, he pushed the door open, creaking behind him as he left, trudging through knee deep snow.
The winds are picking up, there are signs of a blizzard tonight.
Resolving to be quick, he marches. Hugging himself within his cape to keep warm. The coat he was carrying is protectively held against his chest, not a drop of snow pelting against it. He couldn't afford getting it wet, as he would surely be once he arrives at his destination.
It was a 20 minute walk, even with his pace. Normally it'd be a lot shorter with less snow to slow down his trek. Soon however, the white opens up to green, as the snowy tundra ends and the border to a grasslands biome comes to view. The depth of snow considerably lowers from his knee, to his ankles, until they barely cover his soles. He hears the familiar crunch of melting ice under his heels as he reaches the more temperate area just a few miles ahead of him.
His hands wrapped around him fell to his sides as his cape is opened up to accommodate in the warmer environment. The coat he held on his shoulder looks just as freshly ironed as when he first left. Breathing in the crisp non snowy air, he continued onward.
Months ago, there must've been a village here. The simple houses typical of plains villagers are still there, untouched for months, abandoned. They must've left in a hurry, and it is obvious why.
Craters dotted the landscape, leaving only a single Christmas tree from last year. This place was once lived in, signs of life from its former only resident remained. The unfinished build of a massive log tower and that one demolished house with a floor completely made of obsidian are only a few of the oddities that hinted to the fate of this resident.
It was a surprising sight a few months ago, but he's gotten used to the sorry state of the place after his weekly visits.
Now where was it?
He ignores everything else in favor of looking for one thing specifically. It doesn't take long for him to find it.
Standing there ominously, unused by anybody other than him, is the Nether portal. Fully taking off his cape, he takes one last breath of the Overworld before stepping in. The warmth immediately hitting his face.
As always, nothing beats home.
The part piglin's nose twitched at the ashy air. Suddenly, the bandages on his head and chest started to feel more uncomfortable here. Ripping it off like one would rip a bandaid, he threw it to the lava, hearing the liquid gurgle as it burns. If he doesn't need wooden casts anymore then why should he keep wearing these? Ranboo would be pissed.
Why does he even care what he thinks?
With a huff, he moves forward, ignoring the sting of his recently bare skin. It's been a couple of months and he had recovery potions to spare. Ranboo doesn't need to whine about his bones not healing properly. It's just fall damage, and he refused to die by fall damage, his remaining 3 lives are proof of that.
He recalls the familiar ache of his skeleton shattering. The painful jolt as he woke up from his week long coma, screaming. Him yelling at the enderman hybrid who he caught dressing his wounds. Him yelling at the younger hybrid for the obvious burns he sustained diving into the water to get him. A lot of yelling in general.
Guess he owes Ranboo a favor now?
He shook his head, clearing it of any thoughts of Ranboo and favors. Instead, looking forward as he strides through the clay and cobblestone bridge. He has one place he needs to be at right now.
The grip he has on the coat that wasn't his hardens, feeling the familiar fabric in his fingertips, enveloping him with an ache other than the still healing wounds he sustained that day. He clenched his stomach, sometimes, he could still see his blood pooling on his palms before vanishing. As if the scar was never there.
As if he was never stabbed.
Before he could delve further into his complex feelings on that harrowing subject, he thankfully finally saw what he was actually here for. His stride becomes a sprint as he rushes to just get to there, before the blizzard could begin in earnest, before his mind wanders off again.
And there it was.
"...hallo Tommy."
There, on the side of the bridge connecting L'Manberg to what was once Logstedshire. A blue beacon shining across the Nether. Surrounded by a garden of red flowers. Built with elaborately decorated glass, emeralds, and of course, cobblestone. A jukebox has been looping Chirp since its creation.
A grave.
Exhaling deeply, he grabs Chirp out of the jukebox, not really caring who's disc it was or it's importance. He isn't much into sentimentality but he has something better in mind.
"Come on, haven't you had enough sad music in your life? Well- Death. But you get the idea."
In Chirp's place, he placed down Wait.
His thoughts wander back to Christmas. They were only starting training, Tommy was still not at all that great at PVPing. But still, he thought it'd be a wonderful idea to give him a present. He didn't know what came over him that time, maybe he wanted to motivate Tommy? Or maybe he felt bad? Or maybe he just wanted to dump him a disc cause he doesn't really have much use for them. Either way, Tommy loved it. It was one of the few things he could still consider a bonding moment between them.
Internally, he cringes at how sappy that was.
"It's more Elevator Music than mourning, but- you know me” He laughs, coming off as rough from lack of use, he hasn’t really been talking to much folks lately. “Sorry if it ruins the mood."
He sat down, crossed legs. The coat he still has slung on his arms was laid down reverently amongst the flowers. Gently he sets down a pot beside it, hearing the clinks of the blaze rods as he places them inside. He did not bring any candles so this’ll do. Resting both hands on his legs, he takes a deep breath. Taking in the ashy air of the nether. He meditates on his shared experience with his now deceased apprentice, and the actual bond they seemed to share in their rather short time together. His brows started furrowing as he was brought back to the violent end of that friendship they supposedly had. The aching of his scar was ignored as he stayed there.
Piglins like him typically do not have uses for candles with everything constantly on fire around them, nor do they mourn for the loss of anybody. There is no reason to visit anybody’s grave if death is just that much of a common thing in their homeland. A stray ghast fireballing you or a random player pillaging for gold could kill you, that’s just how life was here. At most they’d just keep anything their fallen brethren dropped if it ain’t already burned or stolen already, either as a reminder or just cause it’d be a waste. Not that there is anything left to keep of Tommy.
Instead, most of his knowledge of grave visiting is of his time in the Overworld, his time with Phil.
And Wilbur.
And Tommy...
He chuckles, cheerless.
He recalls hearing the news. When he threw the blanket off of him, ignoring Ranboo’s yelling for him to stay put or reopen his wounds. His blood was boiling when he grabbed Toothpick ready to murder that green bastard the first moment he sees him. He had slain any and all green things that he happened to come across, rampaging across the Arctic covered in Creeper gunpowder and Zombie guts, in great anger against that man who screwed him over. It was only until he felt Ranboo clinging onto his arm that he was forced to stop.
“Stop! Just Stop! It wouldn’t matter...”
“Why?! WHY WOULDN’T IT MATTER?!”
“BECAUSE TOMMY IS DEAD!”
Those words hit him like a ton of bricks that day.
That shouldn’t be right. It can’t be. He was the one that fell off a cliff and broke possibly every bone in his body way back then. If anybody should’ve lost a life, it’s him. Yet, he refused to die. Technoblade refused to die.
Tommy refuses to die.
In the end, his apprentice chose to fight. To hell with whatever bond he and Techno used to share, he will do what it takes to live before Techno could have a chance to turn on him first. And while it still stings of betrayal, his wound still feeling fresh despite it already scarring, he could not help but respect the kid for having the guts to go through with it. Anarchy is about freedom after all, and Tommy, in the end, chose freely, no matter how dumb that decision may be. As a true Anarchist should. As Technoblade’s apprentice should.
Is Ranboo saying that this Tommy, who attempted to murder him for the sake of survival, just went and died just like that?
No, that can’t be right. That does not add up. It just doesn't add up.
And yet, the proof that was the funeral was undeniable.
Technoblade wasn’t invited to the funeral held for Tommyinnit. Why would he be with all these L’Manbergians gathered together to mourn the loss of one of their founders? Still, it did not stop an invisible Techno from attending, it was the least he could do. In his inventory are just stacks of invisibility potions for the occasion. They won't see him coming, neither does he plan on bothering them.
He looks around, observing who had attended. Besides everyone from L'Manberg, Techno isn't surprised almost everyone is here. Tommy was such a social butterfly in the worst way possible in the sense that most folks disliked him. Still, it is surprising how that went away upon his death, everybody being in various degrees of mournfulness, though they are still mournful all the same. Well, almost everybody .
Techno felt his chest twist in knots seeing Phil not there. It just proves Dream wasn't bluffing when he revealed he has him, and probably still does. A part of him wants to believe however that Phil managed to escape somehow. That he's doing fine hiding in some forest somewhere. But that is unfortunately definitely untrue, for there is no way, absolutely no way he would miss the burial of one of his youngest sons. His second son who died. Not after the loss of his eldest, Wilbur, who never even had a proper funeral.
As for the President.
Tubbo looked almost as dead as the body they were burying under their precious L’Mantree.
The President was dead silent as dirt covered what was left of Tommy. There was no wailing, nor even a single tear dripping from Tubbo’s eyes. A less observant person would’ve said he didn’t care, that the president and Tommy’s own brother lost any semblance of care for him after he sent him away to exile. As much as Techno despised the government however, he knew Tubbo, he knows that couldn't be the case. Tubbo’s eyes are too red, too sunken for him to not have cried, as if he had been drained of tears a long time ago.
Techno should know, he’s the same.
Even he found himself crying at that moment. He stood there, frozen, not whimpering nor making a sound. And yet, tears still poured profusely down his cheeks. Normally, he’d already have Phil patting him on his back, whispering “Buddy” or “It’s ok” to him as he lets him cry out his normally pent up emotions. But he isn’t here. He can't be here because Phil is in god knows where while they bury his youngest. Is that why he’s so shaken? For Phil?
Or maybe it’s simply the sight of Tommy’s remains?
For one last time, Techno saw him. He looked nothing like back then. Half of his face was burnt, a permanent scar of whatever took his last remaining life. And yet, he looked so peaceful, his final expression completely serene, far from the angry crying kid who betrayed him back then, and far from the kid who supposedly died burning. For a second, he could almost believe it wasn't him, that it’s just some body double and that Dream had just locked up Tommy somewhere with them just being too dumb to notice. It’s Dream. He wouldn’t put it past him.
But he knows that can’t be the case, as in Tommy’s cold fingers, remain grasped a familiar compass.
‘Your Tubbo’ as Ghostbur so lovingly named it. Techno never saw Tommy without it, even after everything. Techno did his best to drill into him the truth about governments and its corruption, but he was never truly sure if he ever succeeded, even somewhat. Tommy just kept holding on to his last ties with L’Manberg until the very end. Noone could get it over his dead body.
Noone.
With one last glance, Techno turned around, cape waving in the air as he threw an ender pearl, teleporting him away before anybody could see him. Nobody did.
He wiped the last of his tears, hating that he cried. He isn't one for expressing sadness. No. He must push through, no time for moping, he has work to do. With resolution burning in his eyes, he marched back to his home, now cold and empty without anybody waiting for his return.
One man took almost everything from him. Almost . He still has the one who meant to him the most, Philza, whom he had failed constantly time and time again. He already lost Wilbur, an ally, his best friend’s son, and somebody he grew to respect. He already lost Tommy, a kid, an apprentice, a worthy opponent, and a friend. He will not lose Philza, the last person, no, last family he still has. A father who had definitely lost more than he ever deserved. This time, he is keeping his promise. This time, he won't let him down.
So, as much as he despises all governments, especially the traitorous L'Manberg for daring to incur his wrath, they will be spared, for now. He has bigger fish to fry. For now he knows there’s only one true tyrant behind them all, the source of the corruption and the one puppet-master toying with all of them. His greatest enemy and former friend. His mark.
For Wilbur, for Phil, for Tommy.
He will watch Dream burn.
Techno’s eyes opened as he’s brought back down to the present. He is back in that same reality, one where he had been sitting crossed legged before his former apprentice's tomb. His body may be laid to rest in a proper grave back in L’Manberg under their L’Mantree those idiots seem to be worshipping, but Techno had built a more suitable shrine for the would’ve been anarchist if his time wasn’t cut so short.
Apparently this is where Tommy died, if Ranboo, their only eyewitness, is to be believed. Techno will admit he wasn’t the most trustworthy guy despite saving him from certain death. Asking him for specifics on what actually happened doesn't even yield any real results. In his messed up memory, all Ranboo could testify is Tommy fell. The gurgling lava claimed him before anybody could save him.
Tommy fell.
Yeah, right.
He clutches Toothpick, listing that as one more reason in his ever growing list of grudges against the green man.
Still, having a solo shrine that he can visit from time to time is far more convenient than sneaking into L’Manberg every week, as much as that amuses him. His beef isn’t with L’Manberg right now and he’d rather not make enemies with two factions all at once. He’s just enjoying the peace and quiet, as nobody dared go there while he’s present. Although, it is rather peculiar seeing them decorate it when he’s away. It did make the tomb actually look like a proper shrine for a fallen brethren and not just a pile of cobblestones, it’s most definitely Tubbo’s additions however, and he’s not really sure what to feel about that.
Grunting, he stood up, wobbly, feeling his legs wake up after being in that same position for what is possibly hours, it’s the nether, it’s hard to keep track of time. He has work to do. Slinging Toothpick on his shoulder, he turns around, ready to head for another daily grind for when he inevitably clashes with Dream once again. Today he has Wither Skulls on his agenda. You can't have too many Withers.
Speak of the devil.
There, he saw him. Standing in front of the portal, still as a statue, is the green man himself. That smug grinning mask taunting him from a distance. Techno sees red.
It’s him!
Dream!
Kill!
Revenge!
Save Phil!
DO IT FOR TOMMY!
No. Taking a deeper breath, he shakes his head, blocking out the voices' demands, calming himself down. He won't rush in blindly. He shouldn 't rush in blindly. What did he teach Tommy about attacking restlessly? He had already nearly lost a life last time. He refuses to end up dying in vain like his apprentice.
Looking back at Dream, he is definitely still standing there, waiting for something, waiting for him? Techno took a hesitant step forward, approaching slowly. As he shortens the distance between them, Dream finally moves, turning back to the portal. With one last glance at Techno, he passed through.
Clearly beckoning him to follow.
Techno obliges, passing through the portal to Logstedshire. Back in the Overworld, he was greeted by the sight of Dream in the distance, standing still amongst the trees like a shrub. Upon seeing Techno emerge from the Nether, he turned once more, walking further into the woods. Techno kept following.
For a while that's just what he does, he just kept trailing behind his target, gripping on to Toothpick as he did. The air is tense, he could feel the need for blood crawl up his spine as the voices whisper in his head. Yet, he stood firm, not giving in at least for now.
"Chat, not yet." He mumbled under his breath. "Not yet."
Soon, Dream suddenly halted, apparently having arrived at his destination. There he stands on a beach, behind him, a massive building of what Techno could identify from afar as blackstone, maybe with some obsidian. It's massive scale almost completely blocking out the now setting sun, it's shadow darkening the beach where it stands. Dream is gazing up at it, a smile noticeable from the sides of his face. Techno could only assume what Dream is feeling right now, pride.
Techno wouldn't admit it to his enemy, but it does look legitimately intimidating. He gulped, turning to Dream, chuckling.
"You seem to have a lot of free time." Toothpick is slung on Techno's shoulders, while Dream's gaze remained fixated on the build.
"So what's it for?" Techno gazes up at the structure as well, internally shuddering.
"Mmm, someone." Dream tilts his head towards him, finally looking at Techno.
"Awww, and here I thought you finally have a house." If Dream was in any way annoyed by Techno's continual jests, he doesn't show, only giving Techno a blank stare.
Dream visibly smirk. “Well, I’m sure it’s going to be… comfortable for its one resident.”
This sets Techno off, pointing Toothpick on the other man’s neck. Dream doesn’t even flinch, in fact, his smirk only grew wider. The screaming in Techno’s head grows louder, along with the restlessness stemming from what Dream was implying. He wouldn't dare.
“Who are you keeping there, Dream?" Despite his monotone, there is that audible roughness in his tone as he pushes the sharper tip of Toothpick against Dream’s throat.
“Nobody! Not yet at least, I swear!” Dream’s palms were raised, snickering. Techno grits his teeth at Dream’s obvious lack of care of his threat.
“Then what is stopping me from tearing at your throat?” His voice is low, coming off as a growl.
Dream snickered once more, pushing Toothpick away with one finger. “Because… Techno-”
He leans in, closer, right at Technoblade’s face whose resentful growl is beginning to sound more audible at such intimate distance.
“You won’t get any answers.” The mask flicks to Techno’s side as its wearer inches towards his ear, whispering. “You wouldn’t want that, don’t you?”
Techno snarled, swinging his pickaxe, with Dream easily side stepping away. Finally, there is distance between them. Techno is panting, breathing out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, easing his beating pulse and drowning out the cries for blood beginning to raise in volume in his head. Dream better not approach, who knows what he'll do? His fingers twitched, aching to claw at his nemesis’ face.
He closes his eyes. Deep breath. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale.
His eyes opened.
“Where is he, Dream?” Was Techno’s first question, putting away Toothpick before he ends up finding it sticking on someone else’s teeth.
“Who?” Dream sounds bemused. He laughs.
"Where is he. "
The tension rose to a fever pitch upon Techno's reiteration. One could hear a pin drop during the ensuing silence. With Dream just staring, probably not even blinking as his head slowly tilted sideways, in obvious pretend confusion.
"Oooooooooh! You mean Phil!" Dream pipes up, striking his fist on his palm, nodding. Techno felt every cell of his being wanting to strangle the man at the mention of Phil, however, he kept burying that desire. Internally whispering to himself 'Patience' again and again, like a mantra.
"Why didn't you ask sooner?" His thoughts were cut by Dream. "I can take you to him. I did keep my word." He gestured to the imposing structure behind him.
Yeah, no.
Techno did not need to listen to the chatter in his mind to know what's up. Instead, he merely shrugged. "That's nice of you, Phil is definitely just chilling there, totally not a trap."
"What? Since when have I ever lied, Techno?" It's easy for Techno to tell Dream is messing with him.
He could once again feel his scar throbbing.
"I don't know Dream, ask that to Tubbo after what you did to his brother."
And he thought the tension could not get any higher. The atmosphere grew almost suffocating as Techno laid out his accusation. An aura of ire emanates from Dream. This time, it is him who is pissed, and Techno who is smirking.
"Did I strike a nerve?"
"What are you implying?"
Dream's voice is low, lacking the typical playfulness Techno expects of him in this past conversation. Despite his threatening tone however, Techno's smug smirk doesn't drop.
"Are you saying that I murdered Tommy? Is that it?" There is barely suppressed vitriol in his words.
Techno decides to keep pushing.
"How would I know? It's not like I was the last person seen with him. Now who was that again, Dream? Sorry, too busy being in a coma to check." He went all in, closing in on Dream who steps back, his heart pounding, he could hear his uneasiness.
Is he sensing guilt?
"I did not kill him." His words were steady enough, but Techno's ears wouldn't lie, as he noticed the subtle tremble in his voice. "W-What reason would I have to kill him?"
"Come on, wasn't he the source of all your problems?" Techno leans in. "You said it yourself, Dream, you only ever cared about his discs to keep him in line. Why go through all that trouble manipulating him if he wasn't a thorn on your side? Hmm?"
He's heard enough from Ghostbur and Ranboo to know the context behind Tommy's exile. To Techno, it just reeks of a plan orchestrated by Dream to smother Tommy's spirit. But Techno knows Tommy, there is only one reason Dream went all this way to put together this elaborate scheme to harass him.
He was a threat.
"Tommy isn't an enemy. Not anymore." Dream's smirk returned, though Techno could not see any smugness in his expression, not with the anxiety that was still coming off of him. "For crying out loud, I went and cashed in my favor! Just for you to train him."
"I needed a protégé! Not some hapless kid I watched DIE!!!"
Dream snapped. He got emotional, too emotional. He is shaking, his fist clenched, breathing heavily. Techno had since halted his approach, watching Dream's well set up mask fall apart before him.
"...some protégé did he turn out to be."
Techno stated, bluntly, resigned.
Tommy is dead, he was burned alive the very same day he attempted to kill Techno. He is gone, buried, not coming back. All of his and Dream's efforts in the long run meant nothing. Whether or not Dream actually murdered him didn't matter. He is still dead .
So why had Dream's breathing shifted into laughter?
Dream is giggling, he is chuckling darkly to himself as he stares down away from Techno, still trembling. Had he gone mad? Had Techno ended up pushing him just a bit much?
"Oh you couldn't be farther from the truth, Technoblade." Dream began.
He raises his head, despite his mask, Techno could feel him staring at his soul.
"Tommy was perfect."
"He's perfect!"
There is a chill that crawls up to Techno's spine as Dream's manic laughter continues. Even more so as Dream steps forward, approaching him. Techno kept standing his ground.
Then Dream takes out a netherite sword-
Techno immediately calls forth Toothpick.
"This." Dream stops, fingers trailing on the increasingly familiar blade. "Is proof of that."
Tilting the weapon, the enchantments shimmered as it revealed an etched name Techno hadn't seen for such a long while, the same sword from back then that he never wanted to see again.
Lycomedes.
"You thought Tommy had no idea what this is? Didn't he not give a crap about Theseus or Lycomedes or any of these Greek figures you kept going on about?"
"He didn't." Techno replied, interrupting Dream's monologuing. "Tommy doesn't exactly listen to most of this stuff, you know him."
"But he listens to me."
The smugness in his words are back. His grin is so wide, it shows across his face. Techno could ascertain his pupils are dilated as well, this momentary madness having already taken hold.
"You see, I gave him a warning." His gaze goes back to the sword. He trails his finger on the tip, lightly enough that it doesn't draw blood. "That wasn't the first time he saw Lycomedes."
Techno's mind flashes back that day, suddenly recalling the hint of realization in Tommy's face upon picking up the very same blade Dream is twirling in his palm. Tommy knew of the sword. Which shouldn't make any sense, he doesn't even care about who Theseus is, let alone Lycomedes, the man who ended up killing him.
"So you betted on me attempting to kill him for you." Techno is starting to piece it together. "...but you knew- You knew I wouldn't go through with it. Why? What was the point if I am not meant to get rid of him?"
Then it hit him-
"Mmmmm yes. I didn't think you'd fall for it though- ahaha!" Dream's laughter began sounding more mockingly. "I didn't even have to do much of anything! I just told him- Hey, Techno might not be this friend you are starting to see him as-"
"And he hesitated!" He waved Lycomedes in the air as he spoke. "He was actually starting to believe you cared for him."
Techno could almost hear something crack inside of him. His chest hurts, it twists and it burns as he kept listening to Dream's words about his late apprentice. Did Tommy really see him as that? A friend? Did he really? The pain worsens. Techno clutches his chest.
That fool.
"So I presented him with proof." Lycomedes is pointed at him, Techno not reacting to the sharp tip ready to stab his throat should Dream choose to. "If you see Technoblade wielding the sword Lycomedes, you'll know you're still nothing but Theseus to him."
"You're still the kid with the hero complex threatening his ideals of anarchy."
And so, things fell into place, and it hit Techno like a sledgehammer.
"You set me up to betray him."
"...I did."
The voices grew louder, immensely furious by the revelation of what Dream had done, just as much as Technoblade himself is. Techno now wants nothing more than to tear at that definitely smirking visage under that same smiley mask. Tear it apart. Claw it until it is far more unrecognizable than the scorched face of Tommy's remains.
Not yet.
"He chose me, Technoblade!" Dream gestures to himself, a sound of triumph emanating from his voice. "He believed me more than he would ever believe you!!!"
"...but he's still dead."
Dream stopped, smirk dropping, taken aback by Techno's words.
"No matter what actually happened, Tommy still fell, losing his last life swimming in lava."
Techno chuckled darkly.
"In the end… You still didn't get your perfect protégé. "
There was a long pause, feeling far longer than any other moments of silence him and Dream had shared up to this point. It almost felt like an eternity, these two rivals turned enemies just standing there, silence deafening. There is no peace in this quiet, only resentment that continues to grow. Like everything could easily end up in violence, if neither of them had the restraint.
Finally, the silence ends with Dream smirking, opening his mouth to speak.
"...I'll let you be the judge of that."
Dream steps aside. Techno's ears twitched upon hearing the gates opening behind Dream. Somebody is emerging from the blackstone structure. Techno's grip on Toothpick hardens as he awaits for whatever threat is coming towards him.
"Theo , would you kindly escort Techno off of my premises."
There, having come from the building was Theo. A red clad individual, almost wearing an exact copy of Dream's own gear. Down to the same mask, with the only key difference being that his mask's smile is turned upside down, frowning, as opposed to Dream's perpetually smirking one.
Theo nods as Dream begins walking past Techno, ender pearl now in hand, ready to teleport out of there, away from him.
"I guess I'll leave you to it." Was Dream's last order to this new Theo person before he disappears in a puff of ender pearl particles.
Techno is left with this strange new copy of Dream, just standing silently before him.
"...it didn't take long for him to find a replacement, huh." Techno remarked bitterly at the thought of Tommy.
His thoughts were cut short by Theo slowly placing a hand on his mask, pulling it off of his face methodically.
Techno froze.
"Heeeey Blade?"
He just stood there, mouth agape at the person before him. If he had just seen a ghost he wouldn't be as shocked. But no, this isn't a ghost. This is the same kid he saw being buried six feet underground embraced by the roots of L'Mantree. The same scorched face staring right at him.
"...I have a favor to ask you."
And just like that, everything truly fell into place. Techno doesn't like it, not one bit.
And this time, he understood why.
---
The young piglin hybrid squealed as he saw a winged figure looming over him. He lands back first on a stray boat that just happened to be lying there. Shrieking as he waves a sword around, his short limbs barely able to swing properly as he wordlessly screamed for the tall figure to leave him alone.
The man simply grabbed his blade. He flinched. This is it. He's caught stealing from a player. And here he thought he could keep mooching off of him for as long as he was injured. But no, he's a fool, and he's just gonna die pathetically like the others.
He squeezes his eyes shut, his shaky fingers letting go of the sword that was gently pulled away from him.
"Shhhh, buddy, it's ok."
Instead of the agony of what he thought death would feel like, he instead felt arms wrap around him, patting him on his back.
He feels himself being pacified. Why is he being pacified? A piglin should never let his guard down!
But still, the patting is working, soon his breath evened and he found himself whimpering under the player's arms. This is wrong. So wrong. He is gonna die for this!
He felt his stubby legs rise, leaving the ground. He squeaked as the man held him close, carrying him away from the piles of stolen gold and food. Weakly, he tried to struggle out of his grip, but couldn't, far too exhausted. He instead buried his face further into his shoulder, resigned to whatever fate he has in store of him.
It was a good run. Looting from villagers and players alike, getting hunted down, being able to somewhat fight back, he even got this neat sword! His piglin brethren would be proud at how long he even lasted in the Overworld, despite how short it actually is.
Death doesn't come however, as he felt himself laid down on an oddly comfortable bed. A mushroom soup placed besides him, which he immediately engulfs. The man who took him was chucking as he ate a proper meal since what felt like forever.
"You're a hungry little one, aren't ya?"
He ignores him, preferring to focus on inhaling the soup.
"Poor guy, were you hurt?"
The man reaches out for his arm, which was still bleeding. Some player got the drop on him and wounded him. It isn't as bad as what he normally sustains on a daily basis but it still does hold him back a lot though. Why else wasn't he able to fight back against this winged individual?
He hissed, and the man pulls away reflexively. Still chuckling however.
"Sorry bout that bud, hang on- Let me grab you something."
In his hand suddenly appears a glass container. Shimmering liquid sloshed inside it. He was so fascinated by it that he didn't noticed the man pulling his arm up gently, pouring the liquid on his wound.
He wailed, it stings!
"No no- It's ok, it only hurts for a bit, don't worry."
He peered one eye open, watching his flesh dance and weave into itself, closing the wound. His pain was replaced by fascination as he watches himself fully regenerating, sniffing on the arm and sensing no sign of an opening anywhere, besides the smell of drying blood.
"There you go! All better."
He blinks, looking up at the man. What a strange player.
"Now, I can't just keep calling you bud. What do I call you?"
He tilts his head. Was he asking him? Nobody calls him anything. Just Piglin or screaming really. How was he supposed to answer.
The man's gaze trailed to the sword he took from him. It is rusty, barely holding together due to overuse. The gears in the man's head seems to be turning, clicking.
"....Blade?" The man stares at him as if asking for approval.
That sounds dumb, he snorts.
The man chuckles, he really do likes laughing even though he has no clue what is funny. "Alright alright, I'll think of something better later. I swear."
He promised, Blade remembered that promise.
He will remember all of this actually.
He'll remember the smell of mushroom soup permeating the air. He'll remember the wonder of first witnessing his wound stich back up by the magic of a potion. He'll remember his newly given name, and the man that took him in.
He'll remember everything.
---
And he remembers as he shook Theo's hand, sealing the deal.
"I'm in."
Technoblade lives by his promises.
No matter what.