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A million things were happening at once. Wounds against his skin hurt and blood-soaked into his clothing. As the battle raged on against their opposite versions, Techno let the screams of rage and terror float over him. They didn’t influence him, only his own anger at his friends being hurt spurred him on.
His—well, the other him’s—sword had been coated in a layer of blood since the battle had begun. The warrior had cut down quite a few people on his way to the leader of the opposite side.
Himself.
His copycat had hurt everyone, whether that was simply by being a better version of himself and tricking them all, or by hurting them in a more physical way. A few of his friends were out of the battle purely because of how bad this Techno and his friends had hurt them.
Finally seeing a glint of pink in the surrounding bodies, Techno rammed the hilt of his sword into the person between him and someone who should be the same as him. But, apparently, that was wrong too.
This Techno was happy, social, and had more than a handful of friends. He was a better version of him, so why shouldn’t he just let him have his friends? Was he just being selfish? Did everyone else prefer this new him?
Maybe.
Probably, honestly. But that didn’t matter right now, right now his friends were hurt and in pain and he could make it all stop.
Anything in his way would be cut to pieces, as bloodlust flowed through his body. He ran towards the other version of himself, who was busy fighting off three opponents. He was obviously beginning to get overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, but luckily for him, none of them were amazing at combat. Before the copycat could be noticed he took a quick stab at his legs.
He got a good hit on his knee, leaving the other barely able to stand. The mirrored version of himself instantly lunged towards him, allowing his shield to splay out towards his other would-be attackers, hitting one in the chin as Techno barely dodged the blade.
Techno used his shield to quickly press himself up off the ground, as he jumped up he took a quick kick at the other’s injured leg. Of course, it was blocked by his imperfect reflection’s shield. Using the momentary distraction, Techno swung his sword towards the monster who had caused all of the destruction recently.
Unfortunately, Techno’s aim was not perfect.
Blood spurted from his copycat’s neck, as the wound went to the middle of his throat. Techno gasped quietly, instantly regretting the action. He should’ve just tried to knock him out or something. Or else—this— this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for him.
The other Techno first tried to cover the wound with his hand, but it did little to lessen the blood flow. His grip on his shield weakened until he let it drop from his fingers. Now it was obvious to anyone nearby what had happened.
A scream cut through the fog in his mind. All he could think of was the fact that he had killed someone— and it was so different from simply killing a cow or a zombie. Watching the man struggle as he realized he was dying, seeing the anger in his eyes, it was like a slap in the face.
His copycat fell to the ground, quickly being surrounded by the other versions of his friends. The battle had almost completely stopped, everyone looking over at the death of one of the main leaders. People were trying to force-feed the other healing potions, but he was denying them.
Why?
He obviously wasn’t happy to be dying, but there was some hint of happiness in the bitter grin that stretched along his face. Somehow even while gasping for air his copycat managed to look like the strongest person in the room. He held the air of a king deigning a servant with his attention.
His opposite stared him dead in the eyes—conveying something only he could hope to understand in some twisted, convoluted way. His copycat—he didn’t want to die per se, but this—this was the best way he could think to die.
To be felled by an alternate version of himself, to be the beginning of someone else’s rise to the top.
Techno—
He was—
He was disgusted.
Why was he still holding the sword? It had blood all over it—and it wasn’t even his in the first place. He tossed the sword toward the dying body of himself, not caring if it would hit anyone on its way down.
Luckily, people were now hyper-aware of his actions and thus were easily able to dodge the projectile. The bloodied sword landed at the other’s feet, and his copycat finally tore his eyes away from him to look at it.
With strength he hadn’t previously known he still had, he commanded the other versions of his friends. “Go home,” he said, allowing his eyes to slowly drift across each one of them. “He’s dying, go home.”
It took a few moments of quiet before people began to move. The first to move to action were those who brought his copycat’s body through the portal, then the rest slowly left his world.
Even when they were all gone, Techno didn’t allow his false strength to fall. He just wanted to go home to his dog and sleep. But there was blood across his face and his friends stared at him like he was a monster.
And he was, wasn’t he? He had killed someone in cold blood. And now, for a moment, he hadn’t even regretted it. Techno had rationalized it as a “necessary” sacrifice to get them all to leave. But—but that had been his opposite self. It could have been him dying on the ground from a neck wound.
With blood drying on his face, Techno headed home, and none of his friends chased after him.
By the morning, Technoblade was long gone.
He had left all valuables behind, leaving with only his dog beside him. Perhaps if someone had realized earlier they could have caught up to him in time, but unfortunately for everyone involved Techno remained missing for quite some time after his first murder.
With nothing on him, Techno couldn’t exactly live off of air forever. His first priority was, of course, making sure Floof was happy and healthy. At the beginning of their trip, the little dog had been ecstatic at the walk and maintained hyperactivity as they wandered.
They couldn’t make it too far in a night's walk, but Techno had planned to make it to a village before the sun had risen fully. His friends would hopefully not notice his absence for some time.
Well, it didn’t really matter too much if they noticed or not, did it? Either way, no one would chase after a murderer, least of all the killer of someone who was their friend.
His plan, for the time being, had been to travel to a village all his friends had long stopped visiting since the inhabitants didn’t have many good trades and didn’t respect them too much as adventurers. Unlike other villages which would practically bow to their feet and give them free trades, this village in particular had a backbone.
So, obviously, Techno decided to pay a visit there and regain his bearings. It was the best choice of everything nearby.
When he arrived at the village the sun had just begun to light up in the sky in pleasant shades of blue. The villagers were beginning to awaken, some minded their own business, and continued on doing their jobs, but quite a few stared at the pink-haired stranger as he walked through the village.
He was without his usual armor, so he hoped they wouldn’t recognize him as Technoblade the warrior and instead just see a man needing help. By instinct, he headed through the village to find their blacksmith, most times he and his friends would run through the village and either half-heartedly trade with the people who lived there or just point-blank steal from them.
Why were they seen as perfect people if they stole from innocent people all the time?
No one ever— appreciated being stolen from, so did they just prioritize their own happiness over the whole economy of the village?
But—that was the past. It didn’t matter anymore, he wouldn’t be doing that now. For now, he had been wandering the village for a bit too long. It seemed this village didn’t have a blacksmith.
Interesting.
Maybe that’s why everyone deemed this village a waste.
May as well start trading with the farmers for some emeralds.
He entered the small house quietly, his head ducked in respect. Floof had been left outside so he wouldn’t disrupt anything.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, avoiding looking at the civilian. “I came here to get some help, would it be possible if you could allow me to help you farm?”
You had to appeal to a person’s vanity, if he had just point-blank asked without any posturing, he would’ve been rejected as soon as he walked in the door.
A long silence followed his request before the person began to walk past him. “Huh?” Techno wondered before he realized the villager was leading him somewhere.
He was soon led to a potato farm, there were a few weeds growing among the crops and they needed some water. Only one or two were ready for consumption.
A look at the villager conveyed what they wanted him to do. “Farm,” they said nothing, but he could see it in their eyes. “Prove what you say.”
And so, Techno began to weed the potato farm.
It was hard work but very allowed him to begin to work in the economy of the village. The person who hired him had let him keep what he harvested so he could properly trade with the other villagers.
With his bag of potatoes, he approached one of the many other farmers. Techno softly placed the bag onto the ground, opening it to give the farmer an impression of how many he had. The farmer looked at his day-long effort and tsked but led him to his home anyway.
Techno followed, Floof needed food and this was the fastest way to get it for him. He waited outside patiently as the farmer went to find emeralds for the trade. He had managed to farm a lot of potatoes in the day, and he knew they generally went around twenty potatoes for an emerald, so today he would definitely be able to afford lots of food for Floof.
He had around sixty or so potatoes, so that would be three emeralds or so?
The farmer came back out with a single emerald in their hand. Before he could call them out for scamming him, they tsked and looked at his potatoes. Their eyes focused on the bruises and ooo blemishes on a few of them.
Low quality, their eyes said. Do better next time.
He managed to trade the single emerald for five cooked pork chops, feeding one to Floof and one for himself. He’d keep the other three for the next day of extensive potato farming.
As the next few days passed, Techno still couldn't manage to harvest as good of crops as his competitors could. Most of the other farmers had subordinates doing their jobs for them, so he went out to a nearby farm and kidnapped a random kid.
Of course, it wasn’t exactly kidnapping when you yell out “someone wanna help me farm potatoes?” and someone answers. Well, now there was a blue-haired kid helping him farm and it was all going great.
Squid Kid, as he had been told to call the kid, was a very good farmer, but of course, no one was better than Technoblade.
Together the two of them worked and were able to make a living through potatoes. Floof was fed, and Techno could barter for things he needed.
He could’ve left as soon as he had enough emeralds to trade for a pickaxe.
But he didn’t.
“You like it here, don’t you?” Squid Kid asked him one day in the middle of weeding out the plants. “You could’ve left weeks ago, yet you’ve stayed, gotten attached.”
Techno scoffed but didn’t respond. He was attached to the village, truthfully. But at any sign of anything going wrong —like blood on his hands— he would leave as fast as he could. Was that attachment or self-preservation?
“Hm,” the kid muttered. “Something must have happened with your band of friends, right Technoblade?” A slight chill went down Techno’s skin. This kid wasn’t supposed to know that name—he wasn’t—did the kid already know what he had done?
Did he know about his Mimic? Did he know about how many people had been hurt? Did he know about the blood on his hands?
“Techno—“ the kid tried to say, quickly noticing his reaction to the realization. He couldn’t escape his mistakes no matter how far he ran. There would always be someone there who had heard whispers of the warrior Technoblade— “Techno! Breathe!”
His blue eyes snapped up to the child now crouched in front of him, definitely crushing some potatoes under his feet. “Techno…” He began, before realizing he should wait until the other could properly breathe.
It was a long moment of silence. A moment of he hates me and how fast can I get Floof and run?
“Techno,” Squid Kid finally stated. “Why did you run from your friends?”
A broken laugh escaped Techno as he felt his throat clench. “I was a monster, kid.” It was the truth after all—anyone else would have spared his Mimic.
Squid Kid scoffed, “You know you’re kind of an idiot sometimes, right Techno?” He was instantly ready to refute him, but the kid kept talking. “ All warriors end up killing something—whether that’s another person or just animals. It’s normal,” the kid paused for a moment, considering. “Well, I don’t think your reaction is normal, at least.”
“Kid… I killed a living human, that can’t be excused.”
Squid Kid sat up, “You’re right! It can’t be! But you have to move on, Techno, you can’t let your life end here.” The kid clenched his fist, likely about to slap him if he disagreed. “Sure—you can leave all your friends behind, you can start your life anew. But you need to live and not just suffer through thoughts of guilt and anguish for the rest of your years.”
Even with the slap in the face that was Squid Kid yelling sense into him, Techno still continued to farm potatoes as the days went by, trying his hardest to ignore the issue. For a few days, the kid even let him get away with it.
Of course, Techno should never have gotten used to being anonymous in a village near his old home.
Squid Kid had been looking around apprehensively all day, that was his first sign.
The second, Floof was very quiet all day. Usually, he was trying his hardest to help Techno and Squid Kid but that day they barely heard a peep out of him.
And the final sign, Squid Kid smiled at him— smiled at a murderer— and told him to take the day off, to go find Floof, halfway through their usual farming time.
All in all, it was a very odd day. This all culminated in Techno going off to find his dog.
He wandered through the village calling for the dog, gathering glances from villagers who now were quite used to seeing him and Floof as a pair. Seeing either on their own was usually a sign something had gone wrong.
In the distance, he heard a very familiar bark of pure excitement from Floof. With the flare of relief of his dog being safe, Techno let down his guard for a moment, walking towards where he had heard the bark.
When he arrived in the area, he saw a very familiar brunet petting his dog. At his arrival, Wilbur looked up at him with a sheepish smile. “Hey Techno,” Wilbur’s eyes took him in gratefully, taking note of the dirt all over him. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”