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the night skies are clear as a winged man makes his way to the dark meeting room. this particular scene is not new, philza is used to late nights. though in the past he was always too rushed and stressed to find the time after dark as peaceful, with all of the aggressive mobs lurking in the dark. but since he’s settled in the tundra with technoblade, he finds the clear night skies and crisp air relaxing and peaceful, an escape from the chaos that daytime brings.
wilbur liked cool nights as well.
phil heads out of his quaint house and into the chill of the quiet night, eyes set toward the syndicate meeting room entrance. he plans to relight any lanterns that may have been extinguished since the last meeting. he’d like to avoid any damage that would be caused by a creeper, attracted by the unlit room; the room he had personally spent so long building by hand. techno had occasionally made suggestions during the process, but it truly was his own project, used to satisfy his guilty love of intricate architecture. because of how important this project is to him, not to mention how long it had been since he’d had one like it, a creeper explosion would be very annoying. philza is already dressed in his pajamas; a loose pale yellow shirt, untucked and wrinkled from his unorganized chest of casual wear, a dark beige pair of leathery pants, and the fluffiest cloak he owns placed over his wings. the last item having been gifted by ranboo after they baked together for the first time, and now a treasured piece of his wardrobe. the most noticeable article of clothing on him would be his clunky snow boots from a kind villager, dark and contrasting on the fresh and stark white snow. the cloak and boots are the only items brought to combat the cold air outside so he hurries to reach the syndicate room as quickly as he can. after he finishes his trek through the snow and reaches the lava pit, he checks his surroundings for lurking people before jumping into the briefly scalding magma. he’s warmed for just a minute before continuing to shiver, the slightly ornate lantern he carries becoming his only heat source. the stone halls are cold and dreary as he follows the winding, stone pathway, leading to the hidden entrance, he holds his lantern high in order to better see the indent made to mark where to place the lever. after doing so, the wall raises and he is immediately put on guard due to a nearby clatter around the meeting table. phil spreads his wings, ready to catch the intruder by surprise before he spots a familiar bright red cape on the ground to his right. he quickly deflates and lowers his lantern to his hip, rounding the corner to see a wide eyed and disheveled techno, still in clothes from the previous day, untense and rise back up from his crouching position behind the table. the noise must’ve caught him off guard as well, at this time of night.
phil smirks, “you know, it’s harder to see in the dark,”
philza laughs quietly, unattaching the flint and steel he brought from his belt before proceeding to carefully light all the lanterns around the meeting table. as expected the lanterns made the room look dim and dreary, causing only faint details to be seen in the room. so the task was needed. for some people, late nights may mean talking. however, techno had never been one to confide, even when prompted. and phil always enjoys the peace found in silence, so they both keep quiet. many nights in together’s company were in a similar comfortable silence, usually completing their mundane tasks next to each other until one, often philza, fell asleep. whoever was left awake would then carefully arrange the other to be in a bit more comfortable position. when they both awoke again in the morning, neither would speak of it. the routine was first made long ago, and has never been spoken of, the tired eyes never questioned, and the blankets in the morning had no mention, there is silent acknowledgement, and appreciation, but no talk is needed. it’s a core part of their bond, he thinks, complete understanding from experience and no discussion required. the weight of words can be heavy over time, especially on ones so heavily burdened already, it’s undesired and exhausting. technoblade stands awkwardly, the late night meeting is unusual and he knows an explanation is due, but instead he takes a seat before picking back up his activity, hoping for phil to catch on.
phil stretches his wings out and rotates around the last lantern he lit, holding his hands out to the new flame, attempting warmth. he sees techno across the table, with his worn and tattered copy of the art of war, playing with the edge of a page. he seems to be reading the same page over and over again, a tired but resigned frustration evident on this face. he is chewing his lip, an familiar attempt to ground himself when distracted, phil was accustomed to his friend’s old habit from their past travels together. so phil crosses to the other side of the table, sits in his seat, and arranges himself to preen his slightly neglected wings. he had been busy lately but it was easy to fall into the rhythm of ruffling, cleaning, and molding his feathers. techno smiles fondly at his book and relaxes to the fluffy rustling noises and the unintentional cooing phil does when he completes a particularly satisfying spot. techno slowly closes his book and his eyes, leaning back and allowing himself to be lost in the chatter of his brain, always calmed and less angry whenever philza is there.
———
the next night when techno descends to the calm and cool syndicate room, he huffs fondly at an average sized bookshelf in the back, two copies of the art of war inside, a brand new one and his former copy, more tarnished and worn then he had thought before. the shelves also have old scrolls from his and phil’s adventures long ago, and an aged recipe book that he remembers phil getting from a very grateful villager and often used in his later domestic home, he had been to dinner a few times in the past and that book had always seemed a crutch for his old friend in the kitchen. that night techno reflects on past adventures by himself, enjoying the memories and past joy he felt with each scroll and bound leather journal. he also skims the cookbook but it’s uninteresting, he’s never been a chef, with his favorite food controversially being golden carrots. but he thinks of ranboo briefly, he seems to have been cooking and experimenting more with cuisines and treats, he and phil always get to taste test, but he wonders why the sudden interest in the hobby. he means to ask the next day, but is caught up with maintenance and lets it slip his mind.
one night techno knows he falls asleep reading scrolls from the bookshelf because he wakes up back in his home unexpectedly with an apple and honey snack beside him. he becomes further embarrassed when he learns it was ranboo who found him with phil while they were searching for him and his input on an enchantment. they found him passed out in his chair, prompting his surprisingly strong enderman neighbor to carry him all the way back to his bed while phil fixed techno the snack from their small apiary. after that night techno finds more additions to the bookshelf. various histories of evolution and the ancient times, novels bordering mythology. and interestingly, a handful of drama filled romance novels inspired by powerful kings and queens of the past, driven by eccentrics and almost satire like drama. techno laughed alone at ranboo’s out of the ordinary book choices, the shy and anxious hybrid being into the bold and dramatic romances was ironic and he mentally notes to share some stories of old battles and dramas of war that he had read of in his travels with ranboo later.
———
tubbo tells ghostbur of the disappearing books from his and ranboo’s home, and this leads ghostbur to become giddy with the thought of another forming library. he gathers the few novels he carried with him before the explosion of new l’manberg, some new books he gathered in the recent month, and races to find ranboo. ghostbur finds ranboo on the cake path and nearly crashes into him, “ranboo! ranboo! i heard of your dissapearing books! please, please take these novels to the new secret library, i’m afraid of these ones getting blown up as well and i’d love it if you could let these be stolen from you too!”
ranboo smiles sheepishly, the ghost’s excitement and innocence is easy to enjoy and he giggles along with his friend. the ghost seems to think his plan to be genius as he continues to babble about the titles he gave ranboo, “now look at this one! this is a baking book niki gave alivebur before l’manberg! lots of brownies in there, oh! and this one i found in an old chest, it’s weird i don’t remember where.. but it’s techno’s writing! i think it’s for fighting, oh! and these ones are special for you ranboo!”
ghostbur pulls four slim books from the pile and ranboo looks with wide eyes, it’s four colorful children’s books with various pictures of abc’s, shapes, and simple stories on the covers. ranboo looks to ghostbur in bewilderment, waiting for an explanation. ghostbur has a tight smile and some complex unnameable feelings behind his dead eyes, “ranboo i know you and tubbo have michael now, and i can tell you guys are going to be amazing parents. these are from alivebur’s time, as a kid himself and also from fundy,” ghostbur points to one with furry textures and animals on the cover, it was slightly beaten up and worn, “this one was tommy’s favorite,” he brushes the one with letters, teeth marks hilariously evident, “tubbo struggled with this one so be careful, might be tricky with micheal especially with the language barrier,” and then the book with the shapes, covered in grass stains, “fundy loved this book, he understood so quickly, i remember i was so proud,” ghostbur looks at the books with a faraway expression and unhidden fondness.
ranboo clears his throat and looks to the floor, slightly unnerved, “ghostbur, this is really nice, but, are you sure you want us to have these? i don’t want to take this away from you..”
ghostbur looks up from the books, previous expression wiped from his face, and giggles into his hand, “ranboo i haven’t had kids in a long while, please take these books to the new library, it think it would be good for you and tubbo anyways.”
ranboo smiles and moves to part ways, waving to ghostbur and continuing down the path on his way to his icey home, fondness written all over his face.
the next day phil and techno descend for quick maintenance and are surprised to see the new additions to the library. four old children’s books, a new recipe book written by niki, and techno sees his old pogtopia plannings placed to the side. they both bittersweetly realize the books are from ghostbur and a past that seems a millenia away. phil picks up a story of trees and adventure and thinks of wilbur, young and bright. always quiet though, but so full of inspiration. they used to read this story on rainy days with happier mindsets that seem forever ago. and techno looks at the strategies from that dreary and hopeless ravine, remembers wilbur in his craze and lowest points, and the horrible difference it was to the witty and creative wilbur of their youth. after the flashbacks on both sides, both of the hybrid men worked in heavy silence.
———
an unexpected good thing that came from the new additions to the syndicate bookshelf was the smooth introduction of technoblade to micheal. with the obvious baby books he knew ranboo had some involvement with kids and so he inquired ranboo about it the next day. ranboo stumbled through explanation of michael's origins and his partnership with tubbo. techno was confused at first but the story reminded him of phil and their slightly similar meeting and so he let it go with huff and monotone suggestion of letting michael and tubbo come for a visit with ranboo, with the strict rule of no weapons, from either side. ranboo was ecstatic and shifted on his feet, barely containing his excitement. he thanked techno, and ghostbur, silently, and suggests to do it after the next syndicate meeting.
———
two days later niki enters the syndicate meeting room with three more baking books, one of them is on the science of baking, philza had messaged her the day before about their growing collection of novels and literature. the baking book that spoke of chemistry and the art of mixing ingredients interested ranboo a lot. niki sees the old baking journal on the shelf already and her face tightens, a painful recognition in her eyes. she moves to her seat before anyone can comment.
the syndicate gather around the table and report on various parties that may be threatening their system, philza speaks about the strangeness of the egg and it’s possible divine or otherworldly powers, “it just bothers me, i see the way it’s changed people and i think it’s corrupting them, forcing people to devote themselves to it. seems sketchy and dangerous to me,”
everyone nods, the egg is strange and probably needs to be understood more before approaching it, but for now observation is key. techno references to a map of the badlands and its surrounding areas, “i think we need to understand if there’s a pattern to it’s takeover, see where it goes next, identify similarities in each place and person, try and take it down before it progresses,” everyone hums in agreement, “now that’s discussed, is there anything else that we want to talk about?”
niki stands and takes an old and worn book out of her bag, placing it on the table for everyone to see and grabbing all attention, it’s singed slightly and looks to have been through literal war. everyone leans in and sees the branded title, dreams of unity. curiosity grabs everyone about the direction this is taking, and niki grins as she notices all undivided attention going to her, “sapnap gave this to me pretty recently, he says that he doesn’t know who it belongs to but he skimmed it and it’s all about the formation of an old government,” they all sit a little straighter at that, she continues, “i know we want to abolish everything corrupt and tyrannical in these systems, but as we know that it always starts as something a little smaller, innocent sometimes. and i was thinking that with this book we could maybe find ways to bend the system less forcefully, from the inside, maybe even ways to combat it before it starts! i’ve been waiting to read it with you guys, so who wants to?”
techno shrugs non committedly, philza nods with a smile, and ranboo quizzingly looks at his fidgeting hands. niki sees ranboo and asks if there’s an issue. ranboo smiles and asks if he can query something to niki and she nods, “weren’t you there for l’manberg’s beginning? wouldn’t you know about this sorta thing?”
niki glances to the side, “i was, but not really, i joined to help wilbur and my friends after the harder fight, l’manberg was nice, until everyone else ruined it,” the last part is bitten off and bitter but her eyes still hold immense grief. ranboo starts to apologize but niki interrupts, “it’s okay to ask ranboo, i don’t mind now,” ranboo nods but still looks guilty for bringing up the past.
techno gestures to the book, “the anticipation’s killin’ me, let’s see what’s inside.”
ranboo and philza laugh slightly at niki’s smirk and dramatic opening of the book, it thuds open on the table and then everything stills. phil starts to gaze at the book, a stone cold look, grasping tightly at the sides of his cloak. techno dawns his blank mask, seemingly indifferent, but his eyes instantly hold oceans of regret and memories. niki gasps quietly and takes a small step back, flooded with bitter familiarity. ranboo still sits confused, the book just holds an ordinary introduction in a neatly written print. he looks to phil in question and then to niki, she’s looking away and has glassy eyes, then to techno, face tight but eyes closed. ranboo looks back to the table, taking in the tense atmosphere. then with everyone lost in their own minds, ranboo stands and takes out four cookies from a ribbon sealed pouch in his bag. he rises slowly and carefully places a cookie in each of their hands. they each slowly and gently come to after a few minutes, and see cookies. niki is first to bite into the crumbly and light peanut butter pastry, apathy replaced with a sad and tentative smile. techno opens his eyes and curls into himself slightly to enjoy his own treat, fondness growing in his features. phil looks back up to the cookie and tentatively joins the rest, the treat making his own eyes glassy and fragile, overwhelmed by memories. ranboo sits quietly and traces his finger across the smooth wood, the calming repetitive motion making him at ease.
after a while he looks back up and meets eyes with phil, to his side. ranboo looks back down, but in the direction of the book, he does not understand now, but soon he hopes to. phil sighs tiredly and strains to say, “this is a book by wilbur, from before l’manberg,”
ranboo can’t help but whip his head up in surprise and understands all the reactions. the room is still tense but not quite as suffocating now and ranboo gently queries, “are we still going to read it?”
niki and techno exhale softly and all the members seem to agree that if they do, all parties will be okay. one moment stands still and allows the possibility for anyone to escape, before niki turns the first page. she shakily sighs before starting to read,
Light is very good at existing here, the sun dances through the leaves of the trees, the foliage is so high up it almost seems like clouds parting after a drizzly morning to let out rays of warm sunshine. I remember Eret once mentioned that those giant masses of clouds, imitating large balls of spun sugar, looked like castles in the sky, with the sun peaking through like holy stained glass. I walk outside everyday and I really, truly think we’ll be okay here. The scenery is something of fairytales and the resources are plentiful. This place will be good for us.
niki pauses slightly at the next line, looking to philza and then technoblade before shakily continuing.
Tommy roams around like he owns the whole world, I really think that wouldn’t be so horrible though, 10 years old and so full of dreams, he’s going to be so incredible one day, I just know it, no matter what I say in front of him, I know he’s doing to make changes to the whole world if it comes to it. Hopefully good ones.
Tommy’s been speaking of a boy in the woods a lot lately. I hope the boy is okay, Tommy and I leave out a meal every night just in case. The gathering of materials for the swing outside is looking good, Tommy helped me replant all the trees we’ve chopped down. He's really a natural in the dirt and garden but he hates it when I point it out. I gave him some flower seeds yesterday and I think he really likes them though. They’re pink, they remind me of technoblade. Tommy’s favorite stories are of technoblade, I wonder if they’ll ever meet.
Tommy finally dragged the forest boy into the house today, I can tell that he’s been bored lately with only Fundy to hang out with so it’s good that he has a good friend. Fundy’s younger and more of a solo child, and I can tell Fundy’s almost at their wits end as well, avoiding Tommy to a certain degree, but to be fair I don’t think any person can have as much energy as Mr. Tommy Danger Kraken. The new boy’s name is Tubbo, seems polite and not too bothered by pretty much anything. Tommy sticks to him like glue, and Tubbo seems to kinda like it, it’ll be another one to worry about but I know for Tommy, Fundy, and now Tubbo too, I’d make any sacrifice.
I really worry for the three boys, and myself. This environment of the house is very domestic and calm, but since that revenge driven soldier from one of the offsea wars came to the door and attacked us, muttering promises of ‘equality’ and ‘an eye for an eye’, I’ve put on edge, worried for everyone all the time. I don’t even know it there’s more on the way. I know Dad’s out there, making the bigger things happen. I know Techno is likely impressing everyone, I couldn’t be more proud, he’s always just dominated any field, and I know he’ll lead everyone to victory, but what about the vengeful knights that come to us? Dad and Techno can’t protect us here, and if I hadn't been fast enough, Tommy would’ve been hurt. I wish there was a place I could have them all, protected and safe, with no one but a sturdy wall being scratched. I know Tommy hates me for taking the blow for them but they’ll always be more precious than me. For now I have to be their wall. I’m going to teach them to fight, maybe if Techno comes back he’ll help, but for now, I’m all they’ve got.
Tommy is getting great with the bow and sword, every move he makes reminds me of Dad, their hair has the same golden sheen you know? Fundy’s so great with the shield and I can’t be more proud. Fundy’s just growing and getting stronger every day, and he also has been fishing a lot, I think he likes it and I join him a lot of the time, I almost miss his baby days, almost. Tubbo’s also making really good bow shots for never holding a weapon before, he just needs more time with moving objects, maybe I’ll take them all hunting with me one day.
Tommy’s too worried about me, I’m okay and the side injury isn’t that serious. I have to save the healing potions for in case Dad and Techno come back hurt, there’s no real emergency. I’m okay as long as everyone else is okay.
I miss my famil-
techno reaches across the table and closes the book, eyes dead set on the table, shoulders and body tense. phil’s face is covered by his downcast hat but you can see the defeated way he’s holding himself, unable to look up. techno calmly and with more care than one would ever handle a book, rises, crossing to the back of the meeting room, and places the journal amongst the now decent collection of books. he sighs, heavy but grounding and looks back to the other members. phil still sits resolute, niki has misty eyes with an arm wrapped around herself in a semblance of comfort, and ranboo looks at the opposite wall, downcast, and contemplative, he had never known wilbur but he still could feel his words personally. the silence is mournful when phil slips out to the stone hallways and heads to his own house, everyone eventually follows suit, exhausted and drained from their reading. they carry on the next day, as normal as possible, until a whispered message comes to each member to meet in the syndicate room the night, if available.
——
when niki, techno, and philza descend to find ranboo nervously arranging snacks and fidgeting with comfy pillows, no one was truly surprised, ranboo turns and gestures to the piles of treats and fluffy paddings, “i know yesterday was, well, bad, and i thought if you guys wanted, we could all relax here! i remade the cookies and collected all the nicest bedding i could find around here, sorry techno,” techno snorts a laugh, “but also i asked puffy for her favorite cheer me up book recommendations and i got… THESE!”
from behind ranboo’s back he pulls out four copies of ‘the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe’, a nervous grin on his face. everyone looks to the novels fondly and settles into their chairs, now fluffed with blankets and thick sheets. niki even gets a large dolphin plush, she looks to ranboo, amused.
ranboo fidgets with his hands and sleeves as he sits down, “michael didn’t like the toy, we thought he would but funnily enough it scared him, it kinda reminds me of you though niki so i brought it for you!”
niki looks with a bemused expression before opening her book and simultaneously petting the soft dolphin. techno sits and also opens the book, he’s interested by the cover, and immerses himself to the story, even the chatter of his head quiets to focus on the new book. phil looks to ranboo, already deep into the story, and to everyone else cuddled into their seats, and he laughs a little to all their slightly changing expressions with each page. he then cushions himself into the calm atmosphere, cool and peaceful. this is the first syndicate meeting that looks like this, but certainly far from the last of its kind.