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Part of him was surprised at how quick crimson could cover up the ground. The dirt sucked up the liquid, and yet, it still didn’t disappear.
Why didn’t it disappear?
He was about three years old when he got captured. He was about three when he started to live through Hell. He was about four when he wished he was protected by someone, anyone. He was about five when he escaped. He was about five when he wished he was free of all trouble, of all the trauma and all of the hurt. He was five when he wished of his first bath, his first real meal, his first hair wash, his first hug, his first everything. And when he turned six, he found a family.
When he freshly turned six, he was whole again. He found out a lot about himself. He could speak to birds, crows, specifically. He could understand them, and they always knew what was best.
When he turned about seven, he tasted his first birthday cake. When he was seven, he learned how to fly. When he turned eight, he went to his first real adventure. When he turned nine, he tamed his first dog. When he turned eleven, he got to have his own horse. When he turned thirteen, he found out he heard voices, just like the older brother of the trio who rescued him. When he turned fourteen, he learned how to control them.
The day the sun rose on his seventeenth birthday, he asked for a place where they could stay, without fear. He asked for something his family could provide.
He asked for the world, for safety and warmth, and that’s exactly what he got.
When he turned eighteen, their kingdom was rising from nothing. It rose, high into the skies, and it took several years for the entire castle to be built.
When he turned twenty four, their home and empire was standing tall in front of them. When he was twenty four, their home was their haven. When he was twenty five, he assisted in their first war. And when he turned twenty six, he cheered as they won their first one.
In six years, they fought wars, which they continuously won, over and over again. They became known in all lands, and the strongest of kings all challenged them, only to fall like the rest. The tallest of empires went against them, and they ended up in flames in the matter of months. They lived in ash and bloodshed, and although one could say it wasn’t lenient, they couldn’t be to blame.
To protect one’s self, there are two paths. Leniency and kindness, or violence and death. They had been threatened all of their lives, and since the first option didn’t work out, they chose the second.
They never regretted it, and if they were to be asked today, the answer would remain the same.
When they started their empire, they asked for alliances, and many joined them. Most consisted of the same kind, and very few humans were accepted. Those who were the same, stuck together, and those who were different, and yet allowed the hybrids another chance, were given mercy and adopted into their cause.
However, the King and his brothers were no judge to decide who got to have mercy or not.
The judge was the child who suffered from the first war. The judge was the one who got hunted down, who got tortured, who got threatened and beaten through his life. Who lived through pain and angst, who suffered from breathing air and water, soul sand and ash. The one who could see between right and wrong.
Philza was the judge of Death, and he controlled the blade. He controlled their lives, and made sure they would fear his power. Those who deserved forgiveness, were either let go and accepted within their empire. And those who did not, were either sent off to never come back, and sliced through with a blade to go and meet the clutches of Death herself.
Philza was considered to be a powerful warrior, one who went through love, loss, friendship, hurt, grief, anger and freedom all at once through his life. He was respected, and his family loved him.
To say his family was weird would be correct, but he paid no mind to it. Six humans, a pigling hybrid, a demon, an enderman hybrid, a creeper hybrid and himself, being a winged man wasn’t weird to him in the slightest. In fact, to him, that’s what made it perfect. Because although it made no sense, it was the greatest thing he had.
Everything was perfect, he was happy. Their empire continued to rise, continued to grow and welcome more, and soon, their reign of bloodshed ceased, only to welcome a new era.
Their family grew, their empire grew with them.
Until it fell.
It fell, and Philza fell with it. He fell so hard, he could’ve sworn he lost his wings. He fell with the empire, and so did his family.
They fell, and he couldn’t protect them.
The empire fell, and their reign was cut short. They lived glorious years, and it was all taken away in an instant. All because they had thought, they had dared to believe the worst was gone. And yet, it came back, stronger than ever.
Because he made their empire fall from its grace. He made it collapse, and next, he broke the family apart.
Philza―
Philza was forced to watch.
He watched as Wilbur fell.
Wilbur Soot was shot by Dream .
He watched as Tommy fell.
TommyInnit was killed trying to hurt Dream .
He watched as Tubbo fell.
Tubbo went off with a bang due to a firework fired from Nightmare by Dream .
He watched as Ranboo fell.
Ranboo was killed by Dream using magic.
He watched as Niki fell.
Niki was impaled by Dream .
He watched as Eret fell.
Eret was blown up by Dream .
He watched as Sam fell.
Sam was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting Dream .
He watched as Bad fell.
Bad starved to death whilst fighting Dream .
He watched as Skeppy fell.
Skeppy tried to swim in lava to escape Dream .
His empire fell, and his family with it.
Dream returned, and ripped his family away, as well as everything they built, everything they fought for, everything they lived for. Everything Philza ever wished for ever since he was four, was torn away from his grasp, and he couldn’t do anything .
His entire family died before him, and the last one standing was Technoblade. He stood tall and strong, crying and angry, and he fought like it was the last battle he was going to be a part of. He stood tall and strong, crying and grieving, protecting the last of his family with all his might against their toughest threat.
Technoblade stood tall and strong, until he fell like the rest of them.
Philza was chained, wings tied together with clamps so heavy, the appendages hung lowly behind him. His arms were chained and pulled behind his back. His armor and weapons were taken away, and he was forced to kneel in front of Technoblade’s dying form.
He begged. Philza begged like he’s never done before, and Dream―
Dream smiled . Dream smiled at him, mocked him, and Philza could only cry more when the masked man picked up his sword. The one Technoblade spent hours on sharpening. The one he spent hours on engraving enchantments on the blade and handle. The one he protected his family, he protected Philza with. And the same one he would be murdered with.
Philza cried, begged, sobbed, and Technoblade laid limply on the ground, out of breath, tired, slowly dying. Philza begged for them to be safe, and Dream laughed .
Philza is surprised at how quick crimson can cover up the ground. The dirt sucks up the liquid, and yet, it still isn’t disappearing.
Why isn’t it disappearing?
“Please!” Philza cries, and Dream pauses to look at the kid he once knew, the kid he once tortured, and the same kid he would make suffer today. “ Please , don’t kill him! I’ll do anything!”
Dream is silent, and only stares at Phil with that emotionless smiley face. He stares, before turning to Techoblade, who lays under his foot without a word.
“Techno!” Philza turns to Technoblade, whose eyes flutter open to look up at him from where he lays. “Techno, get up, please! ”
Technoblade doesn’t get up. Technoblade can’t get up.
“Tech― Tech, please! ”
Technoblade wants to get up. He wishes to raise from the ground and hug the kid he once protected, the kid he’d continue to protect, the one he wishes wouldn’t have to see this. But he can’t.
“Stop! Please, stop! Don’t do this!” Philza sobs to Dream, who raises the sword with shaking hands.
They don’t shake from the fear.
They don’t shake from the pain.
They don’t shake from the exhaustion.
They shake from excitement , and happiness , and relief , and anticipation .
Dream shakes from glee, and Philza shakes from pain , and fear , and grief and anger .
Technoblade doesn’t shake. He’s silent, and he cries quietly, tears streaming down his bruised and bloodied cheeks.
Philza cries with all his might, face stained with blood, spots of blue and back, grime, tears and pain. He cries and Dream doesn’t listen.
“Don’t kill him! Please! Dream, please! ” Philza pulls against the chains, only to be tugged back, to be chained down, to be imprisoned. “Techno, get up! Fucking get up! ”
“I said I would find you again.” Dream whispers, voice hoarse and raw, but Philza doesn’t care.
“Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! ” Philza snaps, eyes flaming with anger, with pain, with grief. A murder flies over them, cawing, screaming and crying. The voices in Philza’s head are loud, and his voice carries the hurt of the world. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!”
Philza was always a soft and kind kid.
Today, he is violence, he is pain, he is fear. Today, he is Death’s Angel.
But today, Dream doesn’t fear him.
Today, Death’s Angel fears Dream.
“Techno, please!” Philza sobs out, voice broken. “You promised ! You promised me! ”
“I’m sorry.” Is all Technoblade manages to let out, and he’s cut quiet when Dream push his foot against his back, on a specific gash just over his shoulder blade.
Blood leaks, and the ground is tainted. The ground begs for water, but it is offered blood instead.
“Techno, get up, please!” Philza cries, curling into himself. His wings try to protect him from the outside world, but the chains and clamp keep them back, and he sobs when they pull at his feathers. “I don’t wanna be alone!”
“Let the game begin.” Dream snarks. He snarks, and it causes Philza to look up at him with burning rage into his blue eyes.
“Fuck off!” Phiza’s voice is now raw, about as dry as Dream’s, but he doesn’t care.
Technoblade closes his eyes again. He accepts his fate. He’s failed, and he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.
“Technoblade, please!”
Technoblade cries, biting at his lips to keep in the sobs.
“No! Dream, no! Please! ”
Technoblade can’t help but let out a whimper. The tears stream down his face, and he lets out a quiet sob filled with hurt.
“Stop! Please, don’t―”
Dream forces the blade down, and it sinks into the ground as easily as it did Technoblade’s body.
The world stops, the blood flows, the tears continue to fall, and Dream laughs.
Technoblade was slain by Dream .
“NO! No! No, no, no no―” Philza sobs hysterically, and Dream listens with open ears. “ Please! No! No! Techno! Techno! Please! No! ”
Dream laughs like a maniac, pulling the sword out of the lifeless body with a sickening sound, and he turns to the kid he once tortured. The kid he once hurt and the one he’ll continue to torment.
“Oh, we have so much to talk about, and I have so much to catch up to, Philza!” Dream cheers, and Philza wails.
Philza wails like he’s never done before. Tears mix with blood, blood mixes with dirt, dirty mixes with tears. He falls to the ground, body shaking with pain, with loss, with grief.
Philza screams in anguish, and Dream―
Dream
laughs
.