Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something about the cold and the snow soothed Phils mind whenever he was unable to sleep at night. Maybe it was the gentle way it covered all the marks they had left in the snow during a busy day, or the absolute silence that came with it or the slight twinkling he saw wherever the light hit the snow in the right way.

However this night wasn‘t like any other for him, this night not even watching the snow fall outside and the warm fireplace could sooth his aching heart.

His hands instinctively tightened, crushing the papers he was holding before he noticed what he was doing and tried his best to relax again, smoothing out the letters in his hands. The only reminder and remembrance he had of his son. The ink was slightly smudged and the handwriting was as atrocious as it had always been, a habit of Wilburs Phil had never been able to talk him out of and eventually came to love. Memories of teaching Wilbur to write came to his mind, memories of practicing the alphabet with him and guiding his hands to hold the pencil correctly.

Times had been so much simpler back then, when all Phil had to worry about was keeping his son from spilling the inkwell again, back when Phil had gifted Wilbur his first own notebook and showed him how to bind books himself. Back when the most danger Wilbur was in was sitting on a tree reading and nearly falling out of it when he moved too much during interesting parts.

Phil still had some of the books from back then, those Will had left behind because they were too precious to take on a journey to an unknown destination, that he vowed to pick up when he had settled somewhere else.

Oh how Phil had waited for that day, with every letter he got he felt closer to seeing his son again and then when they eventually stopped Phil got more and more apprehensive. It wasn‘t like Wilbur to stop writing, there had to be a reason and Phil had left it time at first, confident in his sons ability to figure out even the worst of situations, confident that he had taught him right.

But time went on without a sign of life and worry got the best of him and when another letter from a different person reached him, he packed the most important books and the essentials and started flying. Surely the Situation wasn‘t as dire as it sounded, surely he would just have to bring the books and he could cheer up his son.

If only he had left earlier.

If only he had picked up on the warning signs earlier because surely there was something in these letters that should have warned him, should have made him act earlier, should have let him know that he was needed.

Yet no matter how many times he reread the letters, no matter what codes or riddles he checked them for, no matter how he read them he just couldn‘t find anything.

His son sounded happy, elated. He had found something worth fighting for he said, someone that was like a brother to him and a family.

Yes there was hurt in them too, sadness over a love that left him a single father, stories of battles but even those stories Wilbur ended with hopeful words, promises to let Phil meet his grandson, of rebuilding and treaties.

How could he have ever guessed what went on behind the scenes?

Phil had asked Tommy once, about his son and L‘Manburg and the way this boy talked about it matched Wilburs stories to the t and yet whenever he settled down in the evening with Techno and got him to open up he heard a different story.

Not one of liberation and war for freedom but of selfishness and tyranny and people that treated others like villains and weapons whenever they disagreed, of a nation that used it‘s citizens to fight it‘s battles, of power hungry and corrupt leaders and while Techno refused to say it Phil knew in his heart that he included Wilbur in those definitions.

One evening they had talked about how Techno came to fight for Pogtopia, how they baited him with promises of ending tyranny and helping the underdog, how they needed him for protection and that Techno had believed them.

And Techno told him about how he had slowly started losing that trust, how they left him alone to kill an ally when they could have intervened, how even if that ally forgave him Wilbur encouraged further violence, encouraged a child to get revenge on Techno by fighting him, how he tried to minimize the damage and the strain this put on their goal but couldn‘t succeed because Wilbur kept fanning the flames.

They barely talked about Wilbur after that. Phil hadn‘t asked Techno too but it was clear as day that Techno had seen the sadness in Phil‘s eyes and decided to not speak ill of the dead again unless Phil prompted him.

It was moments like this when Phil considered asking his friend for stories of his son, for his opinion on him and the so called symphony he couldn‘t finish because whatever answers Phil was seeking he wouldn‘t be able to find in the letters alone. He wouldn‘t find them by asking his sons closest allies and friends, all those that also grieved his death like he did with their rose tinted glasses on. Yet at the same time he knew how much it would pain Techno to tell him more. Talking about emotions was hard for both of them, but sharing their pain made it even harder as neither of them could stand to see the other in pain when there was nothing they could do to ease it.

So he wouldn‘t ask Techno unless he absolutely had to.

There had to be someone else willing to speak to Phil, someone that could help him get a more complete vision of what had happened to his son. He knew that no matter who he asked he‘d get a screwed version of the story but at some point there was bound to be overlap, something to go off of to figure out the truth.

There just had to be more to it.

There had to be an explanation how the wide-eyed idealist he knew his son to be ended up blowing up the nation he build and begging for this death.

So Phil decided right there and then that the only way to get closure would be to piece together the full story. These letters wouldn‘t suddenly start holding the answers to his questions and although he knew that he probably wouldn‘t like what he found at the end of this road he owed it to himself and Wilbur to find out the whole truth.

With new found conviction Phil started gathering up the letters, slipping all of them into the right envelops, closing them gently before he bound then together with a string and put them next to his sons‘ favorite books again. Next to all the replies he had meant to send but never did because he was sure he‘d get a chance to tell Wilbur in person.

There was time to ponder all the things he regretted later, he decided.

There was always more time for him but oh so rarely enough time for the people he loved and it hurt even more whenever that time was cut shorter still by the hands of another or in this case his own. Another one of his many regrets, despite the fact that he still didn‘t know what he could have done differently, how he was supposed to know that his son wouldn‘t come back this time and even if he did Phil hardly even recognized him at that point.

It was a scary thought.

Even during his considerably long lifetime Phil hadn‘t seen many people change as drastically as Wilbur had, he wasn‘t sure if there was anything he could have done to regain his son even if he were still alive. He would have tried surely, would have used any knowledge available to him but this uncertainty, this thought that instead of Ghostbur he would be living alongside another version of his son he didn‘t recognize, it scared him.

Thoughts of that sort made him feel like he failed Wilbur all over again, like not even his love was enough, that he had utterly failed as a parent, but instead of being something he could fix this was a hurt he‘d have to live with. It might weaken over time but without a chance to prove to himself that he could act different, that he could have helped, he‘d never be able to rest and turn away from the knowledge that once again he had failed his son.

He cursed himself for caring whenever he got like this.

Centuries old and he still chose to care, chose to bleed and cry and love and though it always felt worth it in the end, though it made him stronger each time he loved and mourned again, he cursed it whenever he was in the middle of grieving. Ached for a moment of rest, an escape from himself and what he‘d seen and all the inadequacies not even time could smooth over.

Because those were the only constants in life, change and the fact that there was always something to learn and always room for improvement.

He had seen the most gentle people turn their backs on empathy and had seen them turn right back around with enough time, crying over what they had done, trying desperately to make up for it in the limited time they possessed.

He had seen people turn sour and give up on change as well, so occupied with the thought that they didn‘t have enough time that they never bothered to consider that one good deed would be better than none.

He had seen the worst of scum recognize the error of their ways and work towards betterment for the rest of their lives.

The only thing Phil had more of than these people was time so it felt silly to him how some of them felt too old for change, too set in their ways, hurrying to an imaginary finish line when Phil himself outlived them and got to decide time and time again to be different tomorrow, to embrace that some things would stay the same while many other wouldn‘t.

Even when he felt stagnant, when his heart felt dried out, when human behaviour started to seem silly to him and death insignificant, when the lines between good and evil blurred more for him than they did for people with shorter lives, even then he knew that change was inescapable and as vital to any living being as breathing.

So he chose to love again and chose to trust time to sooth all pain and he chose to believe that whatever his son has changed into could have been undone or that he could have learned to love him regardless even when he feared that what he chose to believe was a lie.

At the same time he didn‘t even know who his son had become, didn‘t even know what things he would have had to forgive him for.

Phil rubbed his tired eyes, feeling a bit of wetness left on them afterwards that he chose to ignore in favor of finally heading to bed. The fire had long gone out during his musings and the cold started to settle in his weary bones, making his mental state feel all too physical for him in that moment to endure for a moment more.

Navigating the dark had become something of a ritual to him with how often he stayed up far beyond a reasonable time and like many other days he found a dog on his bed that had snuck away from the others, that or it had been let in deliberately by Techno, who had been trying to get Phil attached to one of the animals for weeks now.

It was an obvious ploy, Phil had seen how much better Techno had been doing since he had Steve around in stressfull situations, had seen how much more content he looked whenever he had something to care for and it was just like Techno to try and help Phil by doing for him what helped himself. Techno was a natural sharer and protector through and through and Phil appreciated his attempts, even if it meant that he was woken up by a dog licking his face and his bed was perpetually covered in fur.

Sometimes it wouldn‘t be a dog waiting for Phil either, sometimes it would be Steve or one of the foxes, at one point it was even one of Ranboos‘ animals which was especially hard to cover up just by pretending that Phil had forgotten to close his door, which he never did to begin with.

They were silly excuses one way or another but Phil didn‘t want to call Techno out on it and instead just silently accepted his attempts to cheer Phil up even if that meant that he had to pretend not to hear it when Techno quietly ushered yet another animal into Phils‘s room while he was reading or organizing his chests.

So like any other day Phil pet the dog on his bed, letting it nuzzle against his hands before he lifted the cover and slipped under it as far as he could without pulling the soft fabric out underneath the peacefully resting animal at the bottom of the mattress. It spoke volumes of how much time Techno spend raising and training these dogs that they behaved so well and for a moment the thought of his best friend covered in snow praising the hound army when they performed little tricks made Phil feel warm again, letting him forget his worries long enough to fall asleep.

In the morning when the first rays of sunlight woke Phil up before something else could for once, the sorrow already felt further away and the intense emotions he had been wrangling with nearly felt manageable.

It was usually this way. A good sleep didn‘t fix Phils‘ problems but it helped him distance himself from them long enough to get something done before they returned again in the evening and demanded his attention and care. It was a constant cycle, like the ebb and flow of the ocean.

He took a moment to stretch fully while still under the covers, appreciating the warmth that had accumulated over the course of the night, before he took note of his surroundings. The dog was already gone, presumably had been collected by Techno for the morning walk with the pack and there was already a fire crackling in the background, another little courtesy of his best friend Phil didn‘t bring up because he knew it would embarrass him. Sometimes if he woke up from Techno entering his room before dawn Phil would mutter out a quiet thanks, only to hear a huff and retreating steps.

Like many other days since Phil had moved in with Techno it took him a while to get out of bed. It helped that the fire had been burning for a while already but it was still colder than he would prefer, making it an uncomfortable endeavor to push aside the blanket that shielded him from the cold that never seemed to leave.

Eventually he could persuade himself to get up and change out of his lounge clothes into the many layers of casual wear he‘d taken to lately, the process leaving him shivering a bit just like it did every day. He‘d let the fire burn out for now either way, opting to spend his day in the main house he shared with Techno.

Putting on a pair of warm boots specifically made for days he intended to stay inside Phil finally felt ready to face the day and create his battle plan. He still wasn‘t sure who he could ask about L‘Manburg that he hadn‘t already talked to but maybe that was something he could actually involve Techno in.

Lost in his thoughts Phil slowly walked over the little bridge he had build, stretching out his wings for a short moment before quickly pulling them back towards his body to protect them from the wind. It was instinct to stretch them a bit after sleeping but his feathers still hadn‘t completely grown back from where the heat of the explosions had scorched and burned them off and the lingering bruises made the movement ache as well.

Still it was nothing he wasn‘t willing to bear, no payment would have been because all that counted in that moment was to protect Wilbur. That‘s all that ever counted for Phil when he cared deeply about someone.

Protecting wasn‘t in his blood the same way it was for Techno, Phil knew that. He‘d rather raise hell and get revenge, would rather let actions speak than just use his body as a shield for someone but there were exceptions for everything and if seeing his son die had taught him anything then it was that maybe he still had things to learn.

Part of that learning process was to cope without violence. While blowing up L‘Manburg a second time had helped soothe some of his ache, had quieted the part of himself that demanded revenge a bit, it just wasn‘t enough. He wasn‘t in retirement, he didn‘t hold the same strong moral convictions Techno did, but what they had built here was nice and Phil was willing to try it for now, knew to appreciate the here and now and enjoy it for as long as life would let him.

So he opened the door and looked around, seeing Technos coat missing as it often was at this time of the day, and like many other days Phil took it as a sign to move over to their small kitchen and start preparing breakfast for the two of them.

Phil had been an atrocious cook as he grew up, thinking that it wasn‘t his responsibility up until his first partner was gone and with them something as basic as a warm meal. Looking back it seemed silly that he ever considered a daily task such as cooking to be another persons job, but sometimes it took a change of pace or of the surroundings to realize an error in thought. From that day onward Phil did his best to be self-sufficient and to appreciate it whenever another person took over tasks for him, vowing to pay them back in kind.

It was part of the reason he and Techno worked so well together. Neither of them took the others niceties for granted, it was a constant give and take that made both of them feel cherished even with no words of thanks being exchanged. They had mastered the art of nonverbal communication over the years they had been friends and it was something Phil was eternally grateful for on the days when the past cast heavy shadows over him.

On those days it was Techno who‘d prepare his favorite meal, who‘d gently shake his shoulders to wake him up and who gave him the strength to face another day. Just like Phil would do the same for Techno.

On days where the voices got too loud, when Techno felt haunted by things he couldn‘t control and the urges to quiet everything around him, when he was unable or unwilling to talk, on those days Phil took the dogs so Techno could rest in peace, left some food on the steps and came back to darken the room for him and then he waited until Techno came to him, softly telling him a story when he did.

There was comfort in knowing that someone had his back as completely and uncompromising as Techno did, that they were equals in every way and had found their way together and stayed together, even if they sometimes drifted apart for short periods of time.

A chuckle escaped Phil as he prepared all the ingredients for todays meal.

They had come so far since they met. From co-rulers of a nation with silly plans to rule over everything to anarchists. It seemed like a lifetime away when they‘d talk military strategy together over lunch and laughed about it whenever a war turned out to be easier than they thought. When they took bets on who would scare an enemy king more during diplomatic meetings that never once ended in a treaty.

It has been so long he barely even remembered what made them change their mind, but what he did still remember was Technos expression when he came to him that day, telling him they couldn‘t go on like this. It had surprised Phil, he remembered, he hadn‘t yet known Techno enough to see the signs leading up to his change of heart, but he had already cared enough to hear him out.

He remembers Techno asking him why they were rulers, why they had power over all these people and he remembers answering that it was because they could force them to listen, because they knew what was best, because they were gods and he remembers Techno laughing in his face telling him that they were tyrants, that if Techno was their subject he‘d want to stab them in the face.

They didn‘t get much further that day as news of a battle their empire lost reached them but even now Phil remembers the hurt he saw in Technos eyes in that moment.
He never thought about ruling the same again and with each day he spend at the top making decisions for others, each day he spend talking to his closest friend who kept getting more unhappy, each day he spend questioning what he thought he knew he hated who he was and what he stood for more.

It had always felt like a game to him back then. Battles were won and lost and the people who died were simply fatalities. He had already been so old then, had seen so much, had fought in so many wars himself that death stopped phasing him and not for a moment had he considered that maybe that was a problem in itself.

Until one day he couldn‘t stand it anymore.

He didn‘t care as deeply as Techno did, did not consider himself to be completely in the wrong even now but the day Techno stood before him and told him that their time as rulers was over he agreed and packed his things in silence.

They had left that same night and hadn‘t looked back since.

But even now Phil thought, cracking the eggs into a pan with a practiced ease, even now they still weren‘t the same. Phil had listened to Techno and agreed but he never quite felt the conviction the same way Techno did. He was an anarchist by action, partially as a friendship service to his best friend but Techno was an anarchist all the way to the bone.

While Phil had never taken his position as a ruler serious Techno had once thought that he was doing the right thing, that his hands were truly the safest place to be for their people. There were many evenings, Phil remembered, where Techno would sit quietly, reading another book about war strategy, trying to understand how he could win even more efficiently to minimize the damage.

The realization that what they were doing wasn‘t justifiable had hit Techno so much harder than it had Phil and even up to this day it was Techno that pushed Phil to become a better person, very rarely the other way around.

It was something Phil was grateful for but it also upset him when he thought about it in the context of his son. Maybe he hadn‘t done enough to teach Wilbur right from wrong, maybe he hadn‘t been enough to teach him all the lessons Phil himself had been taught over the course of centuries. Maybe he had overlooked things in Wilbur, had considered things harmless that ended up festering for years until Wilbur was out of his reach.

Maybe a child was bound to repeat the mistakes of their parents.

There was no way for Phil to know in the end, he could only guess at what he could have done differently, on what was his fault and what was just Wilbur having free will and the ability to make his own mistakes like any other human.

There was nothing to gain by pondering it more other than slightly charred eggs.

They were salvageable luckily, nothing a thick slice of bread and a heavy layer of butter couldn‘t distract from. The smell was the only thing truly bothering Phil, so he opened a window in hopes of it fading before Techno came back and got busy cutting the bread they had baked the day before.

He was barely done when he felt a cold calloused hand on his shoulder that quickly slipped away again now entering his field of vision to grab one of the plates. Smiling Phil took the other, following his friend to the table in front of the fireplace where Steve already rested and soaked up the warmth. They ate in silence for a while and Phil pretended not to notice when Techno slipped Steve parts of the egg, but ultimately failed once he started laughing at the abysmal attempts at subtlety in front of him.

It was a scene Phil was already used to but that never failed to warm his heart. He loved mornings like this, the reprieve they offered from all the grief he has felt since Wilburs death, the reminder that there was a tomorrow and a future, for him at least and for another person he cared for deeply. He took comfort in the knowledge that even if one day he failed to protect Techno he‘d still be there, able to protect himself.

And yet his heart ached all the same because he couldn‘t keep himself from wishing Wilbur would have been the same. It made Phil angry and sad and remorseful at the same time, looking for someone to blame but not finding anyone. If Wilbur had just been stronger, if he hadn‘t asked the impossible of Phil, if L‘Manburg had been different-

There were so many what ifs and some of them left Phil even more angry.

Angry at himself for even daring to think that his son had not done enough, that it was anything but a tragedy that the only way out he saw was guiding Phils‘ hand, his sword and uttering his final goodbye in a smoke filled cave. Angry that out of all the people he could blame he blamed Wilbur. For leaving him and forcing his hand and making him go through all this.

His change in mood must have shown on his face because the next thing Phil noticed was the same calloused hand from before gently taking the cutlery out of his own now mostly limb hands before he let them fall down and placing them on his plate. It was a casual action and as soon as Phil looked up Techno was already back to eating, while casting some sidewards glances at Phil, letting him now that if he chose to speak Techno would listen.

Techno was an endless well of patience when he wanted to be and it showed in moments like this, when Phil put his hands down in front of him, deliberately placing on over the other to hide some of the tremors that were going through him in that moment, still trying to gather his thoughts long after Techno had finished eating, his own food already cold on his plate. But Techno just waited, filling the silence with mindless chatter, stories of what the dogs had been up to today, of losing sight of Steve in the snow just to be buried under him moments later and anything else he could think of to make Phil relax enough for him to mention what was actually on his mind.

It was when Techno got up to throw some new logs into the fire that Phil finally found his voice again.

“I think I want to know more about Wilbur.“ , Phil says, already questioning his decision to talk when he feels the pang of pain he feels from forming the words. „I‘ve been thinking about it and I just can‘t reconcile the imagine of my son with who I saw in the cave that day. I know he aged and that he must have changed during the time but-“

He takes a deep breath, his hands turning into fists as he tries to reign in his emotions.

“- but not like that Techno. My son wasn‘t like us, he never showed interest in leading a nation. I have told him about my days as the ruler of an empire I have taught him what you taught me and I feel like I will never stop grieving him, will never be able to grieve him properly if I don‘t find out who I saw that day and how my son turned into that person.“

A moment passes by and Phil can see Techno stiffen in front of him before he visibly forces himself to relax and sit down in front of Phil again, offering a tight nod.

“Do you want me to-“ Techno starts to speak but drifts off, obviously uncomfortable with the situation to Phils trained eye but willing to come through for him regardless.

It makes Phil smile a bit as he shakes his head.

“I know that it‘s not a time you like to remember and I wouldn‘t want to force you to- to relive that for my sake.“ Phil speaks before Techno can continue. „But if you‘d be willing to help me figure out who else I could ask-“

“Of course.“ , Techno nods, already on the move again, gathering a notebook and writing utensils; always the overprepared planner.

It didn‘t take them long to write down everyone they knew that had interacted with Wilbur in some way but with whittling down the list came the real challenge.

There was no shortage in people Wilbur had fought against at one point another, but quite a few of them had been allies at one point in time as well, allies that would not take kindly to Phil visiting them after he aided Techno and Dream in blowing up their homes. Most of the others might have fought against Wilbur but had no backstory with him outside of that.

In the end most of the people that were left Phil had already talked to at some point.

Except for one person.

Phil had heard stories about Dream which didn‘t paint a pretty picture and their short partnership during doomsday did little to convince him that they were untrue either. However that alone wasn‘t a reason to cross him off the list. In fact he was the perfect candidate for his research, beginning with the fact that he was easier to find than most others.

In the end it didn‘t matter how good of a person Dream was, as long as he had something of value to tell Phil, or at least that‘s what he thought.

He didn‘t know yet that his feelings on the matter would change once he laid eyes on what was kept in pandoras box.

Chapter Text

Once Techno and Phil had decided on a plan of action for finding out more about Wilbur they parted ways for the day. They usually spent their time apart while the sun was still up as there were not nearly enough hours in the day for them to work on everything together. Between the animals that needed to be looked after, the crops that needed tending to, the house that needed cleaning, trades that needed to be made and buildings that needed to be build, there usually was only time left for them to eat a short meal together around noon and then reconvene after all their daily chores were over.

Phil always enjoyed their shared evenings immensely, but his time spent alone just hanging after his thoughts while he chopped wood and erected a shed or something similar was just as important to him. There was something freeing to him about manual labour of which the fruits were his to keep. For a long time his life consisted of him just giving orders, making other people work for him and then reaping the rewards, there was nothing satisfying in that to him now.

It was infinitely more pleasing to him to see something he had worked on for an extended amount of time to slowly take on form and the fact that he could sometimes distract himself from his more negative emotions was just a bonus. A pretty big bonus right now.

A night of thinking about Wilbur and a whole morning planning how to find out more left Phil emotionally drained, his thoughts spiralling not only around his son but also around the inevitable visit he had committed to. He was a planner at heart and more often than not he could already feel himself plan something before he even consciously decided to.

However this time there were blind spots in his plan.

Everyone on the server knew about the prison and it was inevitable that the news would reach even Techno and himself at some point despite how much work they put into keeping away from their neighbours so to speak.

But knowing about the existence wasn‘t the same as knowing about the prison in itself. Phil vaguely remembers that Sam was the warden but anything beyond that was a mystery to him. Were visits even allowed? And if yes how did you get into the prison?

Beyond questions pertaining to the procedure of the visit itself Phil also started questioning the prison.

Who commissioned it? Who employed Sam? Who had power over it? What happened in it?

Usually Phil would shrug it off and stop caring. He had build a life for himself here with Techno and occasionally Ranboo, one he enjoyed for its simplicity and for the peace and quiet it offered him after centuries of struggle and sins. It wasn‘t in his nature to seek conflict, partially because he knew what conflict brought out in himself, because he knew how hard it was to stop attacking once he felt justified. Destruction of property was the least of his worries when there was a debt to repay.

So he had considered that the prison could be of interest for the syndicate eventually, had considered that maybe one day Techno would mention it to him and he had considered that eventually he‘d have to form an opinion on it. What he hadn‘t considered was that it would happen so soon.

He hadn‘t talked to Dream yet but if for whatever reason Dream decided to actually answer Phil truthfully, if he were to help Phil in his endeavor, then eventually Phil would have to return the favor. They were allied once before, so Phil held some hope that this meeting would go well, but because of that he also knew that this could end up more akin to a deal.

Dream will want something and Phil had to be prepared to pay the price and if this prison was anything like the ones Phil had found himself in whenever he was a temporary prisoner of war then Dream would want to leave sooner rather than later.

 Phil couldn‘t fault him for that.

Still he tried to not dwell on it too much. Best case scenario they would be temporary allies and the prison would move up a few spots on the syndicates agenda, worst case Dream wouldn‘t be helpful at all and Phil would leave angry at himself for trying to rely on someone else. One way or another he didn‘t have anything to lose by trying.

That in mind he tried hard to focus on his tasks for the day. He had been starring at the same blueprint for an addition to their house for what felt like hours already, trying to figure out what materials he‘d need first and where to start as he always did, but the plan refused to make sense even now that he tried to not be distracted. His mind kept shifting whenever he felt like he formed an idea, his attention kept slipping making him forget everything he had added to his mental list.

 He gave it some more time, tried writing down what he would usually plan in his head but it was of no use. Maybe it was time to just accept defeat for today and see what Techno was doing instead.

So much for valuing his time alone.

With an angry huff Phil closed his eyes, rubbing gently underneath his eyes with his thumb and pointer of his right hand. He didn‘t have time to slip further into his own mind, so with a deep breath he opened his eyes again and started taking of his boots, exchanging them for his usual outdoor boots instead. A thick coat and cloak followed together with a pair of knitted gloves that brought a small smile to his face.

Many of his clothes were a courtesy from Techno, who had taken to sewing and knitting after his retreat into the snow. While he could have traded clothes with the village close by he preferred to make them himself since most conventional clothes just weren‘t warm enough for him. It still amused Phil that Techno, a shape-shifter who was part piglin and was therefore attuned to warmth, ended up moving into the snow once again.

It had already confused and amazed Phil during their time ruling the Arctic Empire, back when Techno commissioned their staff to sew him one thick coat after another because no matter how much he wore he was still cold, always hunching his shoulders and making himself smaller to preserve heat.

Even funnier however was the first time Techno felt comfortable enough to hug Phil for warmth.

It had been an uneventful day, Phil stayed in his chamber while Techno was out meeting with some council or another when Phil heard a knock at his door. He knew that it was Techno the moment the door opened without his permission once the other had heard his footsteps and then it all went so quickly. One moment he was prepared to greet his friend and the next he saw the huge form of Techno barrel towards him nearly throwing Phil to the ground as he was engulfed in a tight hug.

At first Phil was too shocked to hug him back, but once Techno slowly shifted into his more human form to make himself smaller Phil finally found it in himself to return the hug and drape some of the blanket that he himself was covered in around Techno.

They stood like that for a while, neither of them saying anything before eventually Techno took a step back with a sheepish smile and went to sit down in front of the fireplace, talking about the council meeting as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Phil had humored him then, sitting back down as well and listening and he kept humoring him all the following times this happened until one day Techno finally explained his behaviour and ever since Phil looked forward to these small signs of affection.

It was all of the little things he learned about his best friend that lead to their relationship being the one it was today and if he had one regret it was that Wilbur and Techno had not spent more time with one another. Wilbur didn‘t have a mother in his life, something Phil never thought of as a problem but when he thinks back to the few times his son and friend have met, about how Techno ever the patient teacher had sparred with Will, how he told him stories in that gentle tone that he only used for the vulnerable, then he thought to himself that his son had needed another guardian.

There were few things as painful as acknowledging to oneself that one had failed as a parent and it was something Phil was still trying to come to terms with.

Maybe if they had spent more time with one another things would have turned out different. Maybe Techno would have recognized Wilbur when he came to Pogtopias aid instead of what happened in reality.

Unwittingly Phil‘s eyes shifted towards a lone letter next to the ones Wilbur had sent him. It was yellowed and wrinkly, singed at the corners and the envelope was missing. He barely even felt himself walk towards it, his hands moving on their own to unfold it. His eyes scanned over the letters for the hundredth time, he didn‘t even have to read the words to know what was written on the paper.

“Your son is in danger.

 Come here NOW.“

Nothing more nothing less.

Sometimes Phil forgot about the letter, forgot about the circumstances that had led to it being hastily scribbled and sent his way and the hurt it had caused, still caused him when he read it.

It hadn‘t been Technos fault, he couldn‘t have known. He had only met Wilbur a handful of times back when he was a child, there had been no way Techno would have recognized the 32 year old man in front of him, not with how easily time slipped away from beings like Phil and Techno. Sometimes a decade felt like no time at all and Phil knew that Techno in particular seemed almost blind to time in a way.

Phil had been angry once, right after his sword had pierced Wilburs body. He had been hurt and full of rage and looked for a person to blame and then the smoke slowly lifted and he was still kneeling over his sons corpse when he decided to go look for Techno and yell at him, fight him anything to make it better-

 But then he stood before Techno, his own armour just as bloody as his and the moment Techno laid eyes on him he shifted from his boar form into his human form, making himself vulnerable in front of Phil who still held his sword, allowing him to see all the emotions crossing Technos face and even with the distance that divided them Phil could hear him speak.

“Phil listen I didn‘t know he was your Will. Last time I saw him, he was tiny and fragile. Phil please-!“

He could do nothing but hug his best friend, his anger evaporating, leaving only sorrow and tears and cries that shook both of them to the core behind.

He understood in that moment why the letter had been the way it had been, understood that as soon as Techno had figured it out he had wasted not a single moment letting Phil know and it pained him, pained him so much that neither of them had been quick enough but he couldn‘t feel it in himself to blame Techno, never Techno.

If only Techno had played a bigger role in Wilburs’ life, if only Techno could have filled all the spots Phil himself left bare.

But there was no use crying over spilled blood now. There was no bringing back the dead.

All Phil knew was that if he ever cared for a child again he‘d make sure to share the burden with Techno if the other agreed with it. They‘d surely make a good team, just as they did in every other aspect of life and whatever shortcomings each of them would have the other would make up for. Never again would Phil make the mistake of keeping the people he loved the most apart from each other only to later regret it.

His fingers run over the messy handwriting one more time, a shudder going through him, before he folds it back up and puts it back in its rightful place next to his son's letters and his own unsend replies.

It was time to go look for Techno.

The sun is still high up in the sky as Phil leaves his house, but like most days it did little to actually bring warmth to the land. The snow was ever present no matter how sunny it got but as usual he found it hard to mind that fact with how the snow crystals sparkled in the sun and transformed the area into a scene out of a painting. Warmth would be nice but the cold and scenery made him feel at home for now.

A quick look around the property is all he needs to find Techno now that it didn‘t snow. His tracks were a dead give-away to his location and they lead him straight to a sight he had encountered many times since Steve started living with them.

In front of him was a partially shifted Techno with one of the goofiest, most gentle expressions feeding Steve some fresh fish while the huge bear was pressing him into the snow purring like there was no tomorrow. Steves purring never failed to make Phil smile. Such a big creature and yet when faced with Techno it behaved just like a small house cat, unaware of his own weight as it licked the fingers that were just holding fish clean.

Other people might be cautious and feel worry for the man that was resting in the snow but Phil knew better. If there was a person in this world that could get along with any animal or beast this world had to offer it was Techno, he just seemed to have a knack for getting along with them and caring for them.

“Steve ran you over again?“, he questions with a smile, making Techno look up to Phil who had come to a stop behind his head.

“Psh no. I wanted to lie down anyway.“, Techno replies, already petting Steve absentmindedly as he always did when the bear was in easy touching distance.

The sight makes Phil chuckle again as he gazes down on his best friend with a wistful smile. „Sure you did, mate.“

The conversation drifts off for a moment then. Phil kneels down to pet Steve as well until the bear becomes restless and wanders off, seeming confident that his company wasn‘t currently needed to keep his favorite human safe, or that‘s what Phil thought anyway.

Next to him Techno is looking after his bear until it‘s gone from sight, only then slowly getting up from where he had been pressed into the ground and trying to dust of all the snow. It was a hopeless endeavor after how long he had been lying there but Phil didn‘t hesitate to help him anyway, pulling clumps of snow from the places Techno himself had trouble reaching.

“So-“ , Techno starts when he‘s mostly presentable again. He‘s already moving away towards somewhere else, Phil easily falling into step with him even though he didn‘t know where they were going. „I suspect there‘s a reason you‘re out here today?“

“I‘ve been restless.“ Phil admits, waiting for Techno to nod and show that he heard him talk and only continuing afterwards. „And I was thinking that maybe I should go l seek out Sam today. Ask when and how it would be possible to see Dream.“

His companion nods again, but his brows furrow like they always do when he‘s debating with himself whether he wants to speak up about something that is bothering him or not. Phil lets him be for now, knowing he‘ll make up his mind with time.

He can see now that they‘re walking towards one of their fields. How anything managed to grow in this cold stiff baffled him but he has learned to not look a gifted horse in the mouth and the potatoes that were merrily growing surely counted as that. How Techno managed to farm so many potatoes and not grow tired of it was another one of those things Phil had just learned to accept.

“You‘ve decided then?“, the man beside him asks, not meeting his eyes. „You really want to do this?“

Of course that‘s what had bothered Techno, the worrier.

“Yes. I don‘t know how I feel about it yet but I think it‘s necessary.“

“Do you want me to come with?“, Techno asks, finally looking at Phil and letting him see his face and allowing Phil to see all the things he didn‘t say.

“I think I can manage talking to a warden alone, mate.“, Phil smiles at Techno, trying to ease the worry in his friends eyes. He wasn‘t that fragile.

Techno nods then, asking if Phil would leave then or after dinner and for a moment he considers postponing the journey to the prison until after. Only a few more hours to steel himself surely that wouldn‘t be a problem but no-

He had to go now. Had to take whatever courage he possessed right then and there and run with it and he tells Techno as much, gaining another nod and a stoic expression as the other wishes him safe travels.

If he hurried he could get to the prison and back a while after sundown, leaving him with enough time to process the proceedings of the day at night. Best case scenario he‘d be able to visit tomorrow as well, which would mean less time to chicken out and postpone his plan. He had done enough waiting and wallowing, he couldn‘t allow himself to delay this any further.

With that in mind he went inside to grab a bag, filling it with some food and water for the way. He glances around the room, trying to see if anything caught his eyes that he had forgotten, his gaze briefly stopping on his new sword. He didn‘t like the thought of needing it but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once Phil leaves his house, his bag strapped over his shoulder and his sword fastened to his belt, Techno is already waiting for him below the staircase with their fastest horse , which was already saddled up. He doesn‘t say anything as Phil descends the steps, only looking him in the eyes briefly before he takes a step towards Phil and hugs him tightly, whispering a short but heartfelt „I‘ll see you later“ into his ear before he releases him and hands him the lead without another word.

Goodbyes weren‘t one of their strengths, Phil noted with an amused smile, so he just nodded back at his friend and climbed onto the horse that would carry him to his destination. His coat and cloak hugged tightly around him and his luggage adjusted once more, Phil urged the horse forward, making it go as fast as it could right from the start as to not waste another second of precious daylight. Behind him, Phil knew without having to look back, Techno was waiting and looking after him until Phil would eventually disappear on the horizon, at which point he would go back to his daily tasks.

The landscape rushes by in a flurry of sparkling white, forcing Phil to concentrate on where they were going even more than he would have to anyway at the speed they were going. One annoying thing about living out in the snow were all the places where thin ice was covered by snow, making it impossible to tell which areas were safe and which would lead to a broken ankle.

With an annoyed huff Phil slowed the horse down a bit, not wanting to risk its or his own injury in favor of arriving a bit sooner. It wouldn‘t be worth it in the long run considering that he also had to get the horse safely through the nether, another place where safety wasn‘t guaranteed. Aside from that the terrain wasn‘t cut out for fast horses anyway, making his current speed near impossible to maintain whether he liked it or not.

His concentration not wavering, Phil made steady progress. Any other time he might have tried to appreciate the journey but this time all he could think about was the deep seated feeling of dread that he felt. His stomach felt leaden, like it was weighed down by something so heavy not even the horse would be able to carry it. If he lingered too long, if he allowed himself to feel too strongly, then he would turn around the next chance he got. Phil was sure about it.

So he never stopped focusing on what was before him, forced his eyes back forwards whenever they wandered, kept his head deliberately empty outside of what was relevant to navigate the snow safely until he reached the portal.

It was an intimidating structure.

Built in dark stone that reached far beyond what Phil could reach even on his horse and glowing ominously, illuminating the surrounding area even in the deepest darkness. Though he had grown up with magic and potions and had at this point lived alongside everything this world has to offer for longer than some of these things even existed. He still, to this day, felt something whenever he looked at these portals. When he looked through them to the other side of them, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until he stepped into them.

In one swift move Phil dismounted the horse, choosing to lead it through the portal instead of riding into it.

As soon as they set foot on the dark stone and into the purple mist the world around them began to shift, spiralling and contorting and blinding until the former snow and sun were nothing but a distant memory. Deep blood red sands and stones reached as far as Phil could see, the heat from all the lava was already oppressive, forcing Phil to take off his cloak at least, fastening it to his horse before he slowly got back up on it after checking that it was doing okay in the sudden heat. He wouldn‘t usually choose to ride through the nether, not with how many enemies lurked behind the corners and with how much fire and lava could suddenly destroy a path that until then seemed save to travel on.

However as he was already going through hell ever since he had lost his son it only seemed fitting to use this path.

Or at least that would be the more poetic explanation, in reality it had everything to do with how quick any possible means of transportation was and in this case a horse and the nether would yield the best result, even if they were a risky combination.

With that justification in mind Phil got going once again, careful of where he made the horse step and getting off to broaden a path for them when necessary. It made the way to the prison longer than he‘d have liked but any time spend on these things now would make the travel back easier, hopefully allowing him to keep his mental schedule at least partially and make up for some of the lost time then.

A small encounter with a ghast on a luckily broad bridge made Phil let out a sigh of relief once he had defeated it. Taking the sword with him as a precaution had been a good idea after all and it ensured him safe passage from there onwards.

Though his journey through the nether had been largely uneventful to this point, he still internally rejoiced once he saw the portal outside in the distance and with it the impending end of his travel.

He didn‘t take the same precautions going through this time, instead choosing to ride right through the structure and onto solid, non-levitating ground. The sun was blessedly still high in the sky, signalling that he could yet keep his mental schedule if he picked up the pace.

Phil urged on the horse once again, quickly galloping away and into the partially rebuild community center. Riding through it felt a bit rude, but then again it was hardly a building after what happened to it and going through it and then over the prime path would be the quickest road, so Phil didn‘t really feel any remorse. The path seemed to fare better, he noted. It seemed repaired; something he was grateful for as it allowed him to actually let the horse go full speed.

Soon the huge, imposing form of the prison appeared on the horizon, guiding Phil even as he had to leave the prime path and find his own way towards it. He didn‘t see an entrance yet. In fact it seemed to be situated on an island, or was the thing itself the island? None the wiser Phil went south first, towards the small beach he could see from the distance. He‘d have a better vantage point from there.

The closer he got the more intimidating the prison became. It loomed far above Phil once he reached the beach, far beyond what even the biggest nether portals he had seen reached and it was just as dark, like a giant black hole in the landscape. Standing close to the edge that nearly touched the shore Phil tried to see the end of the darkness but it just kept going. The other side was shorter, yet it still nearly bridged the difference between one piece of land and another.

For a moment Phil just looked up at it in awe and disgust.

He swore he could almost feel darkness radiating off of the thing.

Not all darkness was the same. Some was comforting, smoothed out harsh contours and promised rest and peace. Some felt foreboding, like the quiet before the storm.

Some felt-

not evil,  because Phil didn‘t believe in concepts like evil and good, but dangerous.

Yes, some darkness felt dangerous, like it would swallow you whole and only spit out a shadow of who you once were. Some darkness felt heavy, as if it would crush your bones and your spirit alike. Some darkness choked you and whispered secrets to you that were best left untold. Some darkness promised that you would never find your way out of it again.

And this prison?

It radiated that kind of darkness, infesting its surroundings with it and probably its inhabitants as well.

Phil knew, because he had experience with it. He had felt it every time he walked down towards the dungeons and heard the muttering of the prisoners he and Techno took during war. Each time he walked down the steps to the cells he felt it close in around him, when the stench of blood and feces hit his nose and the muttering died down more with every step he took.

He didn‘t know what he hated more in those moments, the quiet and the whimpering that occasionally broke it or the yelling that started once he opened one of the cages. It wasn‘t pleasurable. He didn‘t enjoy what he did down there and yet-

 Sometimes when he went to the cells and the voices died down and no one was willing to meet his gaze he felt powerful. Feared. Respected.

It was a terrible high that left him disgusted with himself whenever he indulged in it. There was no justification to be made, nothing that could alleviate his guilt. No potion or soap strong enough to make him feel clean once he went upstairs again.

The faces he had forgotten by now but the voices he could never unhear.

Phil didn‘t know what exactly Dream had done but if his intuition was right, then something had to be done about this place.

However for today he would have to settle with finding the warden. He‘d have time to mention his findings to the syndicate later on and seeing the only prisoner and how he was treated would probably help his case if he wanted to convince them to destroy this place either way.

But even the strongest of convictions faltered sometimes and so it took Phil a few more moments to tear his gaze away from the building. He wandered along the shoreline for a bit before a similar, but smaller building caught his eye in the distance. While its purpose wasn‘t immediately obvious, it was his next best bet, so Phil went around the quartz mansion towards his new destination.

The sun was starting its descend by now, making Phil anxious to finish his business here and return home to tell Techno about his findings.

The building he reached was far smaller and open, letting Phil look at the empty exterior and portal as soon as he stood before it. It would probably be counter productive to stay on top of the horse and it deserved a break after the long way it had travelled as well, so Phil quickly dismounted once again, leaving the horse to roam and graze while he inspected what appeared to be a sort of entrance hall.

He cautiously entered the room as soon as there was no new information for him to be gained from the outside and found a sort of bell attached to the wall next to the portal. Other than that, the place was barren. The stone floor held an intricate pattern but that was about it in terms of optics. Out of options if he didn‘t want to walk through a strange portal, Phil rung the bell, waiting for something to happen.

As time went on Phil felt more and more silly for not just trying the portal first. At ,least he did until a tall figure formed in the spiralling purple haze. It looked around wearily before its gaze settled on Phil, who was still stood beside the bell.

They hadn‘t met before, Phil was sure, but Sam's reputation preceded him, leaving no doubt in Phil's mind as to who was standing before him. It was hard to tell if it was the same for the other; the gas mask he wore made reading his facial expressions a lot harder and a large part of the centaur's body language was outside of Phil's expertise.

For a long moment they just stared at each other, trying to gauge the other's reaction and intentions but eventually the spell broke and Sam left the portal, erecting himself to his full, imposing height in front of Phil.

“Can I help you?“, his voice was softer than Phil had expected but at the same time it felt intentionally guarded. There was no emotion in it. No room for sympathy or anything even remotely human. That didn‘t bode well, but Phil could not let Sam know that, not yet.

“Yeah mate, you can actually. I‘d like to visit your prisoner and was wondering how to go about that.“ Phil said it with a smile, trying hard to appear as open and friendly as he could. Masking was a game two could play and he had been playing it for far longer than Sam. There was no way to read Phil if he didn‘t want there to be one and the warden seemed to have understood this fact already, if the nervous shuffling of his hooves was anything to go by. He had much to learn, but it would benefit Phil most if it stayed that way.

Sam hesitated to reply for a moment, looking Phil up and down before he finally decided on his question.

“Is there a reason you want to see him? Has he done anything to you?“

It felt nearly as if there was actual worry in his voice, but Phil knew better than to be fooled by that small spark of humanity that was trying to shine through the cracks of the other's mask. Humanity didn‘t last long in occupations like his. Power corrupted even the most valiant and benign.

“I presume you have heard about what happened to my son Wilbur?“, Phil tested the waters, earning only a nod in return.

“There‘s things he hasn‘t told me, that I need to understand. Asking Dream is my best bet.“

The admission felt uncomfortable on his tongue. It was a necessary concession to convince Sam to let him in, but that didn‘t mean that Phil enjoyed barring his cards so early on in the game. He liked it even less when Sam took his sweet time responding, glancing towards the portal and then back at Phil before his chest heaved with an unheard sigh.

“You know that he might not tell you anything.“, Sam responds, sounding nearly sympathetic again.

“I know.“, Phil was having none of it.

“He might lie to you. It‘s what he does. Surely you know-“

“I. Know.“

He takes a step towards Sam, making the other back up in surprise.

“This is about my son, Sam. If there‘s a chance that Dream might tell me even a tiny bit about him, I need to take that chance.“, Phil didn‘t plead but he allowed some desperation to flow into his voice. Another concession, a pawn he gave up to keep playing the game. He wasn‘t sure what game they were playing yet or what he stood to gain from playing it but Phil had a feeling that it would be important to stay on Sam’s good side. At least for now.

The grieving father approach seemed to work luckily.

In front of him, Sam straightened up a bit again, his eyes and voice had regained their professional stony edge as he replied.

“Okay. I‘ll prepare the necessary documents and potions for you and try to set the prisoner straight for your visit, but I won‘t be done before tomorrow. You‘re not allowed to bring anything into his cell with you and you might want to leave the horse in case of an emergency. Everything else I‘ll brief you on when you‘re back just-“, he turns around to gesture towards the bell. „-ring that when you arrive and then walk through the portal after a few seconds.“

There wasn‘t much Phil could add to that so he just thanked Sam, who looked decidedly uncomfortable now that Phil was learning to get a good read on him, and said his goodbyes soon after, leaving the centaur in the entry hall.

His horse hadn‘t wandered off far and the sun hadn‘t set completely yet, leaving Phil with some hope that he‘d at least reach the portal before sundown. As he climbed up on his horse he felt Sam’s gaze on him. It followed him into the distance and only when he was out of sight of the warden did Phil finally let himself relax.

This close to the sea the wind was a lot stronger and for once Phil let himself enjoy the feeling of it caressing his skin. He spread his wings wide, letting the breeze rustle his feathers and for a moment he pretended that he wasn‘t riding on a horse but that he was flying far above the ground, healthy and strong wings carrying him away from the people and the lands responsible for his inner turmoil.

But the feeling of peace didn‘t last long.

He had come here to find answers but the image of the prison, the darkness that seemed to ebb out of it and the peculiar warden that guarded it wouldn‘t leave Phil’s mind, creating more questions rather than answering any of the ones he has had previously.

It was an enigma in itself and he could feel himself becoming invested, trying to crack open the mystery that presented itself in front of him.

The entire way back home from then on Phil barely paid any attention to his surroundings, too absorbed in his own musings. Only the heat of the nether and the cold of the snow somehow made it through to him, causing him to hastily throw his cloak around his shoulders once the horse slowed down due to the new environment upon leaving the nether portal.

A part of him noticed that it was dark by now and that the weather was worsening fast, but the day was catching up to him leaving him unable to care about it outside of lighting a lantern he had taken with him to guide his way back.

Times like this he was glad that he knew the way home by heart, but he was even more glad about his housemate, who was already waiting for him outside of their house. It barely even registered to Phil that he clumsily climbed off the horse, it was only when he felt Technos tight embrace that he finally came back to his senses.

Together they unsaddled the horse and led it back to the stable and once they were inside it was Techno who pushed Phil to sit down in their oversized armchair while Techno himself got busy in the kitchen. It didn‘t take long for the smell of food to reach Phil, making his stomach rumble.

Right. He hadn‘t eaten any of the food he packed for the journey.

Phil smiled. It was just like Techno to have anticipated that, and anticipated it he must have with how quickly the food was done and being shoved into Phils hands in a big bowl. A moment later Techno squeezed into the armchair next to his friend, as they would often do and once they were done eating and Techno started washing up Phil started softly telling the other about what he had seen that day.