Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Grass stretched out across the rolling landscape, the vibrant blades swaying with the breeze that passed through the trees. Leaves rustled in a melody of nature, faint and distant birds chirping in synchronization to build upon the ambient noise radiating through the peace and quiet of the springtime air.

It was on a gorgeous day that an unknown presence made itself known in the universe, disturbing the tranquility of nothingness in favor of the buzzing excitement of something new. Petals and leaves turned to see, rabbits whispered among themselves. In the self-repeating cycle of the natural world, a deferral from the day-to-day actions of mice and men captured the attention of even the ants that marched across the rich soil.

Light reflected off of a wreath of gold-colored leaves, emitting a glimmering sheen onto the riverbank it rested upon. Beside it, the motionless fingertips of a slumbering man absorbed the heat that the grains of yellowing sand contained. Gentle swells and recessions of the water lapped at the heels of his boots, reaching out to kiss the newcomer and whisper the tales that a riverbed can hold for an eternity.

In the grace of the mid-afternoon sun, however, the river found that its tales would fall upon the ears of one who had long since known the secrets wept into darkened waters.

The outstretched hand twitched, fingers curling slowly to form a loose fist and extend again. Dark eyes focused on the small movements, surveying the state of their body through eyelashes that clung to themselves with the moisture of water that ran down the skin just beside them.

Now awake, the man shifted with a soft groan to pull his arm back towards himself, using it to push his chest off of the sand and lift the skin of his cheek from the ground. Pink strands of hair cascaded from off of his shoulders, falling down around his face and flinging droplets of water as they moved. His hand lifted again as he folded his knees below himself and sat up, moving to brush the grains of sand from his face.

Finally, the inky blackness of his eyes shifted upwards, out across the grass and trees he had been thrown down to this land in between. Specks of flowers visible scattered across the small meadows, mountains rising from the backdrop of the horizon. It all seemed awfully familiar, but after what felt like an eternity painted across the night sky, gazing down upon these very hills from where he lounged on a throne of gold. . . the perspective had shifted immensely.

The hand that still rested against the beach curled, fingertips digging into the sand. This- this was humiliating. After rising so far, after proving his worth, his prowess- he was nothing. Trapped and weakened, bound to the restraints of this landscape. He was not upset, no, he only recognized the joy his enemies would be able to find in the scene.

Despite the fleeting shame, there was no dread in his stomach. No regret pooling in his gut, weighing him down and refusing to let him stand. Instead he felt light despite the soggy cape draped over his shoulders. Warmth spread from his chest, shooting down his torso and winding its way up to gather in his throat. He could not recall a time he had craved this opportunity, for he had never felt trapped in the vast marbled halls he had resided in.

But this? This was a strange combination of apprehension and excitement, weakness and revelry. In a way he had never wished for, had never sought out. . . he was free.

The pads of his fingertips raised to feather across his jawline, the rosy flesh beneath almost tingling at the foreign sensation of a physical touch. They traced his cheekbone as they journeyed upwards, brushing across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. He touched the raised skin of each of the scars that marred his complexion, one through his eyebrow and two below his eye, one crossing the bridge of his nose, and the final slicing through the side of his mouth. They stilled once his index finger rested on the bow of his lip, but only for a moment of contemplation. In his haste to reach the epitome of his power, the throne of his efficiency and skill, he had forgotten how long it had been since he had assumed a form that was capable of contact. Weak as they were, the warmth of his breath as it tickled his finger reminded him just how alive the mortal body could be.

He could not overlook the weakness, though. It would have to be something he was cautious of, something to remember as he traversed this world. His fingertip moved once again, shifting to brush against the corner of his mouth and collect the liquid that pooled. Bright red, in contrast to the shades of his skin. His tongue swiped across the small cut, the metallic taste blooming in his mouth. Even after just a short time, he had been damaged by something. His previous injuries, ones that had yielded scars, had been inflicted during great battles. The fact that his blood was drawn to the surface so easily? He felt far more delicate than he ever had before.

Despite the weights lifted from his shoulders, there was still concern lingering in his heart, a pressure behind his ribcage. After the conclusion of such a grueling period of his life, some respite was necessary, that much was obvious. But. . . why here? What about the world of men had drawn his exhausted being in, had vanquished the flames of power in his soul and left only wisps of smoke in his veins? It left him only a shadow of what he once was.

He had no clue how he would make his way back. Without thrumming power in his blood, Orion as a neighbor and Polaris as a friend, he could not recall a way to ascend to his position among the stars once he was done in this place. To reclaim his crown as a god, as the embodiment of the chaos and war that he excelled in creating. In days past, he was able to bring himself to the mortal world, to visit the men he had known and discover those he had yet to meet, to bring chaos and unrest to the cohorts of men, to whisper into the ear of heroes, but that had not been his full self. Now he was complete, the entirety of his soul crammed into the confines of this familiar body and mind.

For a brief moment he wondered if he was even intended to return, or if he had been cast down to the meadows as a final goodbye. When he had retired gold upon his brow, was it determined he no longer had enough worth? Was there some purpose here that he must fulfil?

Should that be the case, he supposed it was due time to try and find it.

A grunt escaped his lips as he pushed himself to his feet, staggered at his attempt at a first step and paused to regain his balance. His eyes scanned the edge of the river, pausing on the golden loop of woven leaves. A symbol of victory. He crouched to lift it and stood once again, turning to look at the gentle sway and flow of the water. He tossed it- without poise or grace- into the water. It sank below the surface, disappearing in the current as he stood and watched for only a few short moments. The only other object on the beach was one of his own as well. A mask of sorts, one that resembled a boar. It covered only his eyes and nose, attached to strands of red silk that fastened behind the back of his head.

He shook the sand off of the preserved bone, tucking it into the inside of his cape where he had long ago sewn a pocket for the exact purpose of carrying the mask around with him. He paused, feeling something else in the pocket he didn’t recall placing there. He drew a scrap of the same silk from the folds of the fabric, furrowing his eyebrows but swiftly realizing what it was intended for.

One last thing before he left, then. He reached up to try and get most of the sand from his still-damp hair, doing his best before he drew the rest of it to the side and twisted it into a very loose braid. He used the scrap silk to tie the end of the braid, then released it and let it settle down across his left collarbone and above his heart. The few strands that had escaped the impromptu braid framed his face on the side opposite to the one the braid now sat. A pointed and non-human ear peeked out from the mess of pink now- an indication that he was not a normal man. Those that questioned him on the matter, however, usually ended up with a spear jabbed against their julgar. He was by no means satisfied with his current state- a bit soggy and terrorized by the grains of sand he hadn’t been able to brush away- but this was as composed as he would get for the time being.

“Techno? What are you doing here?” Though the voice was vaguely familiar, he couldn’t quite pinpoint who was speaking his name. He looked over his right shoulder, taking a small step to angle himself towards whoever was speaking just a bit more.

In an instant, the familiarity was evident. There were very few men that were still alive he had ever truly familiarized himself with. Among them were his. . . father, of sorts, and in turn his “siblings”. Though they had no real relation by blood, he had been adopted once upon a time by a man who had helped him in a time of need. His true origins were for him alone, and for none of them to ever find out.

“Decided to, uh. . . drop by,” his tongue was heavy in his mouth. It had been some time since he had spoken like this. The white lie slipped from between his teeth with little effort. Building a persona for the fickle minds of men to believe was one of his specialties.

“And go for a swim?” the obnoxious laugh that followed the phrase almost made Technoblade sneer, though he settled instead for raising an eyebrow in vague and silent disapproval.

“Something like that. Why are you so far from your walls?”

The last time he had visited this place had been through dreams, through the subconscious of the few he had wanted to contact. It had, in actuality, been… years since he had set foot in any part of this place. Still, with the little contact he could sustain he was able to keep very barely up to date. Enough to know that this was far, far away from where Tommy belonged. Where he was safe.

This time it seemed he was not as up to date as he thought. The face of the boy fell, his youthful eyes drooping and the bright smile faltering into a saddened and distant grimace.

“About that,” the lapse in energy disappeared, replaced by a nervous laugh and a smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. “Schlatt won the election, he banned Will and I from entering L’Manberg- you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Techno shook his head, the name Schlatt not quite ringing a bell. How much had he really missed?

“Right, then- there’s a bridge just down here, I’ll fill you in while we head back to the new base. Will will be happy to see you again.” Tommy tipped his head in the direction that Techno could only assume the bridge was. How the boy remembered everything in this place was far beyond him, but with the time he was likely to be spending here he did not doubt it would be easy for him to catch on as well.

Their walk was brief, interrupted by the expanse of the river winding between them. He continued along the shore, boots sinking slightly into the sand with each step. It was when he reached the crest of a small hill that he finally saw the bridge passing over the water. It was simple, and there was nothing to keep someone from simply falling off of the wooden platform and into the flowing depths below. He could swim if the rather rickety looking thing decided it no longer wanted to be in this world. He could also say he would not be one to blame it for such a decision.

He stepped onto the bridge, peering up at Tommy waiting on the other side. He could swim, yes, but he had yet to discover all the drawbacks of a completely mortal form. Who was to say it would not be able to kill him? He looked back down at where his foot rested on the wood, heaving a sigh before he walked out into the center of the bridge.

A rather awful groaning noise prompted him to finish the walk briskly, being greeted by Tommy laughing at the surprise in his expression once he reached the other side. He could almost hear what the boy was about to say between bursts of laughter-

“The almighty Technoblade- scared by a BRIDGE! HA!”

He stared for just a moment, the dark depths of his eyes filled to the brim with judgement and exasperation. He then rolled his eyes, looking away from Tommy and towards the woods that stretched out before them. This new base would be through the trees. Wilbur was not a fool, he would not build a base in the open air for all to see. As naive as they could be to the workings of the world, he had to give them all some credit. They had made it this far.

After Tommy’s fit of laughter, he finally straightened from where his arms had been wrapped around his stomach, wiping beneath his eyes and taking one look at Techno before he let out another small wheeze.

“Okay okay, I’m done now, I swear- we have to get going if we want to get back before Will heads out for materials.” Tommy stepped backwards towards the trees, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder and turning on his heel to head deeper into the woods.

Techno ducked under a branch and followed, glad that the canopy of the trees raised higher above his head. Yet another abnormal quality- his height. He was taller than Will and Tommy, two men that were by no means small. His chin could rest on Tommy’s head, as he had discovered in the very few tender moments they had shared over the years. For the first time in a long while, Tommy had not gotten any taller since the last they had seen each other. A small smile graced his face as he looked at the back of Tommy’s head, the dirty blonde hair sticking out in every direction. He was grown now. If Phil could see him. . .

He pushed Phil from his mind. The Antarctic Empire was the last he had heard from his mortal father, what had happened to him in the meantime? He had disappeared, even from Techno’s realm of influence. He could only hope the man was alright. If he had gone somewhere Techno could not protect him, he had no way of contacting him either.

“You know, Will and I have been hoping you would show up sooner or later. We could use some help around Pogtopia. Do you like the name? We thought it would fit well after the election and to piss Schlatt off in the long run and- Techno, are you listening?”

The man looked away from where he had seen an apple hanging in the upper branches of a tree, nodding in response to Tommy’s question. He was hungry, a peculiar feeling he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. The apple was a bit high, but if he hopped onto the first branch . . . It would be easy to reach.

“Here, take this.” Tommy’s voice interrupted his plotting, and his eyes slid to the fruit held in his hand. It had come out of the backpack that was slung across his shoulders, as it was now in his hands and unzipped. It was much brighter in color, a vibrant red that matched the cape that hung over his shoulders almost perfectly. He took it from Tommy’s hand, inclining his head in thanks and tossing it into the air to catch with his other hand. He raised it to his lips, biting into the flesh of the apple as they walked.

His final and most glaring trait was his lower canines. They were sharp, and larger than a normal man’s. Tusks, Tommy liked to tease him by calling them that. In a way, he was correct, though they were not large enough to protrude from his mouth like those of the very boar he was acquainted to.

War pig. Both mentally and physically.

The sweet taste of the apple filled his senses with a soft pleasure. It was nice, having something that tasted as refreshing as a good apple after years of not needing anything to eat at all. He chewed and swallowed his first bite before Tommy began to speak again in a voice more solemn and serious than the one that usually graced his presence.

“The election- that’s where it all went south, really. I won’t make you listen to the whole process, but Will established L’Manberg and gained independence. He thought nobody would be able to beat him in an election- but Schlatt did. Dream-” now there was a name Techno did remember. He and dream had been. . . acquainted before. He was the only man that had ever come close to defeating him. “- endorsed him, their votes combined and. . . Schlatt won. He exiled Will and I, now we have to make do. Eventually we’re going to take him down with Tubbo’s help and now yours.” Tommy’s bright blue eyes cast themselves slightly upwards at Technoblade, hesitant at his statement but hopeful that his brother would be willing to lend a hand. It was dismantling a government, that was what Techno stood for after all.

“You’ve learned how to speak a language I’m willing to listen to.” The corner of his mouth quirked, pulling at the scar that crossed his lips. Violence, the rule of beasts. Were they not all beasts in the end? It didn’t matter if you claimed civilization, it was a message that any man could listen to no matter his background or his morals. It was effective and just. He could almost feel a twinge of pride swell in his chest at Tommy’s words. He had come to realization, finally listened to the morals of his eldest brother.

He took another bite of his apple, oblivious to the nerves that caused Tommy’s shoulders to almost tremble. If he was being granted the chance to impart his knowledge to the men he cherished most dearly in this world, he would be a fool not to take it.

“I’ll see what I can do.” His response was short and simple, but it seemed to alleviate some of the doubts that flooded Tommy’s mind. He had always been open, his emotions were practically written on his forehead. While it was endearing, it did raise the concern in Techno’s mind that someone would try to take advantage of the boy’s nature. As much as he made attempts to shield him- all of them- from cruelty, he could not be there always. Even in a more celestial circumstance, his eyes were not focused on them at every passing second.

He was old. Far older than even Phil recognized, he had seen the rise and fall of empires, planted seeds of uncertainty in the ears of men as great as Caesar. Achilles was an old friend, Xiahou Dun a great rival. He had seen war- hell, he had caused war. He was well-versed in this narrative, for it had happened a thousand times. This time, he only hoped he could protect the both of them from the fate that so often plagued men that thought they could be heroes.

“The gang’s gonna be back- ohhhh Tubbo’s gonna be so excited when I see him again. He’s our man on the inside, can you believe that?! He’s managed to be part of Schlatt’s inner circle, it’s insane.” Tommy’s usual youthful vigor rocketed back into his body, the bounce in his step and the sparkle in his eyes as he spoke a clear indication of that.

As they continued on their journey he listened. Listened to Tommy speak about Tubbo’s accomplishments, his plans for the future. Listened to his description of their base. Listened to his stories about what Techno had missed in his time away. Even if he teased Tommy’s chatterbox tendencies in the past, he had missed it. A good listening ear was sometimes all that he needed to keep himself entertained and channel some of that nervous energy and hyperactivity he was famous for. That was something Techno could easily provide. If years of solitude had taught him anything, it was that patience could defeat even the most formidable of enemies. Once he finished his apple he discarded the core for some passing animal to make use of and turned his attention, once again, towards Tommy.

It took quite some time to reach the entrance to what Techno could only assume was the base of Pogtopia. A narrow opening, one that could have been either manmade or natural and he would not be able to tell the difference. He followed Tommy into a small room, wondering if this carved out grove was their magnificent base. There were some small bits of storage, a table with tools laid across it, and furnaces that looked to have been vacant for quite a while.

His suspicions were stamped when Tommy continued forwards into a dark corridor, one that continued down into the earth. He followed, having to duck his head just a bit to be able to fit through the narrow passageway. Light soon pricked his eyes, strengthening until the passageway opened into a vast cavern. It was a ravine, one that was completely closed off to the outside world. Torches and lanterns brought a gentle orange glow to the stone as it stretched in either direction for what he could only assume was quite the distance.

Makeshift ladders and hastily constructed staircases allowed access into the deeper parts of the ravine. This base was clearly only recently begun. He squeezed the rung of a ladder that dropped straight down to the floor, knuckles gripping the wood as he lowered himself methodically down the rest of the way. His footfalls echoed in the cavern when he dropped from the ladder a few feet above the ground, a dull thump accompanying his landing.

“Will, I’m back!”

Tommy’s call was loud enough that it was nearly harsh, bouncing off the walls and rippling through the air. Everyone in a several mile radius would have heard that, surely. He shot a glare up at the boy as he descended the same route that Techno had taken, his eyes only leaving once he was safely on the ground and standing beside Techno again.

“One of you is going to fall and break your neck on that ladder,” he warned, the fire of the torch on the wall reflecting in the pools of Techno’s eyes. Tommy just shrugged in response, brushing off the man’s concern for his safety.

“I’d quite like that actually- Will!” His joke was cut short by another familiar face emerging from a cave that split off of the ravine. He was holding a scuffed and chipped pickaxe in one hand, a torch in the other. There was the dust of stones on his cheeks and speckling the shoulders of the ragged shawl wrapped around his neck, covering the wavy brown hair and the knit hat he had worn for as long as Techno could remember in a thin, nearly translucent film of grey.

“Look what the cat dragged in this time.” contrary to the condescending nature of the statement, the smile on Will’s face showed it was a well-intended joke. He set down the pickaxe on a nearby table, returning the torch to a small mount on the wall Techno could only assume it had been taken from originally. The last thing to be retired was the backpack he slid from his shoulders, dropping it to the ground beside a box with a loud thud and approaching the two of them to give a more proper greeting.

He ignored Tommy, but the two of them had likely been working together for some time now, there was no need to give him anything more than a hello when he returned. Techno, on the other hand, must have been a sight for sore eyes. If they had been confined to a ravine after exile, any friendly faces or helping hands meant more to them than to the average person.

In a more hopeful and colorful time, Will might have yanked him down so his ear was pressed against the man’s sternum and ruffled his hair into disarray. With the atmosphere that their current lifestyle provided, he was instead drawn into a brief but tight hug. His usual playful tone had leaked into the cracks of the stone beneath his feet. It hurt Techno to see the hope and determination he had always known Will to possess fading into memory.

With that realization, he had settled his resolve to help them out any way that he could. They needed assistance, someone with experience to be able to lean on. He could provide that, he could provide resources and knowledge. Most importantly, he could try to keep them safe in a way he knew Phil would want him to.

“What brings you to our humble dwelling, dearest Technoblade?” Will spread his arms to indicate the blank stone that rose on either side of them and gave a sarcastic bow. Humble was an understatement to describe their new home, but it would make do.

“He said he was gonna help us take Schlatt down!” Tommy shot into the conversation, eager to get his edge on the topic. Both Will and Techno stared at him hard enough that he was quick to back down.

“Is that true?” It was Will that spoke this time, his weight shifting towards Techno to the point that he took a small step in his direction. They both seemed to be waiting with their breath held, as if their fates rested on his answer to this question.

Taken into consideration everything that he had seen thus far? Their wellbeing may very well be hovering over his shoulders, ready to press his heels into the rock with the weight of what he was responsible for. Keeping them safe, making the very few that looked up to him proud? He was not a sentimental man, nor did the opinions of others particularly influence him, but this was something he was more than happy to do. For Tommy and Will, even Tubbo. For himself. Most of all, for Phil.

On a normal day, in a normal decade, Techno was tasked with killing those that did wrong. He was the one to swing the sword, sink the spear, fire the arrow. This time was different. He was to protect the ones that were meant to make the final blow. Allow them the space and opportunity to execute their own plan and get their own revenge. If nothing else, it would be an interesting challenge.

“It is. I’ll help in any way I can.”