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There was sweat on his brow and blood on his hands. A distant part of him, a part not engaged with the battle at hand, counted 10.
His breathing was heavy and hard. There was blood on his hands.
In front of him, Dream's body cracked and dissolved as he respawned. Techno took a breath, let his anger turn to gladness.
The controlled grip on his blade loosened, the point dipping down.
He had won.
He had beat Dream.
“But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life.”
Dream has simply respawned.
The drip of blood from his blade was a loud and heavy echo.
He ached. His muscles ached. The cuts and bruises he'd gained ached.
His soul ached for the irreparable harm he may have done.
But Dream was just respawning.
But had there ever been a time like this before? Were they sure there was no limit, in time or amount, in this world?
A hand was on his shoulder, a loud voice in his ear.
Pure control stayed his blade. Slowly, the words filtered into his head.
Congratulations.
He'd won, after all.
The crown felt heavy and bloody on his head. They had joked, before. When they agreed to fight fair. To split the money.
They had joked that if Dream won he'd wear Techno’s crown for the day.
Hard to split money with the dead. Techno wondered, sullenly, if it would be seen as disrespectful if he asked Dream to be buried with his crown. He didn't want it anymore, after all. Not at this cost. Nothing at this cost.
He had taken it from a dead man and now he'd give it to one. Poetic, in a sense.
The man talking to him still hadn't shut up.
He brushed his hand from his shoulder, uncaring.
The blood stuck between his hand and the blade as he twisted it, already drying. Already dead.
"Where's Dream." His voice was hoarse and deep. Flat.
The man stepped back and part of Techno recognised the fear flashing in his eyes. "Don't worry man, you won, you did it-"
"Where's Dream." He didn't care about winning. About clout or money. He wanted to see Dream. Alive or dead, he wanted to see his. His. He wanted to see Dream.
"Dude, dude, don't worry, you won man, no need to fight anymore,-"
Quick as a snap, Techno pushed his blade sideways and up, the length of it against the man's throat. "Where." He growled, "is Dream."
He swallowed and the movement pushed his neck against Techno’s blade. "He's just over there, but Techno dude, it's over, you already won-"
He kept stammering but Techno had all the answers he needed.
His cape snapped with the quick turn he made. He was irrelevant now that Techno had a direction to head into.
The wall fell away, like it had before the fight.
Behind it stood Dream, like he had before the fight.
Dream.
Alive and well.
The stone of the floor dulled his blade as he dropped it. “Dream.” The name came as a whisper.
“Techno?” Alive. He was alive, alive, alive.
“Dream.” Alive, Dream was alive.
“Techno!” The broad smile under the mask familiar. Comforting. Alive.
His fingers were bloody on Dream’s mask, smearing Dream’s own blood on his unmarred skin. “Dream…” He spoke as if in a dream.
Dream leaned forward, unafraid, alive. “Techno.”
Techno leaned closer still, until he could see Dream’s pupils behind his mask. “Dream… subscribe to Technoblade.”
He pulled back and laughed, full-bodied and alive. “As if I haven’t already.” A hand touched Techno’s cheek, gentle and warm.
Techno tried to rub the drying blood from Dream’s face, totally not because he wanted to keep holding Dream close. It just spread, sticky and kind of gross.
It didn’t matter.
Dream was alive.
He’d won and Dream was alive, in his arms.
One of those mattered more than the other, but it was a good thing Dream didn’t ask Techno to pick just now.