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Wilbur used to always joke that they were twins. Which was a bold faced lie. There was not a single drop of shared blood between them. Not to mention the age gap between them was no small matter.
Still, Wilbur would say it to anyone that asked. Wilbur and Technoblade. Technoblade and Wilbur. They were twins, he would say. Techno being the older one by two minutes.
“Wilbur?” Techno had asked one day. “Why do you say we’re twins? We’re not even related.”
Wilbur offered him a warm smile, put a hand over the other’s heart, and took one of Techno’s hands and placed it over his own heart.
“Listen, Tech.”
So he did. His ears twitched slightly as he focused on the hand on his heart and the heart on his hand. He felt them beating in perfect sync. His heart beat a bit faster at the realization, and he felt Wilbur’s heart beat faster with him.
“You feel it, Tech?”
“Yeah...I do.”
After that, Technoblade never doubted when Wilbur would say they were twins. And he noted new details he never noticed before.
He and Wilbur were almost always on the same wavelength. They could finish each other’s thoughts. They complimented each other perfectly. Where Technoblade could plan the perfect strategy, Wilbur had the charisma to have the plan execute perfectly.
Technoblade felt like Wilbur would always have his back if he needed him. He could trust Wilbur. They were twins.
When he agreed to help Pogtopia fight against Manberg, he had agreed because Wilbur and Tommy were his brothers. Wilbur always had a leader’s spirit. And Technoblade was more than willing to create the perfect plan for revolution for him. He would follow Wilbur whether he agreed to his plans or not. They were twins, after all. Two souls in perfect sync. They would always know what the other was thinking. Nothing to hide between them.
For the first time in years, Techno began to doubt Wilbur again.
After he ended up killing Tubbo in spectacular fashion. After he and Tommy fought in the pit. After he followed Wilbur down a path that brought nothing but tension and discord among the three of them.
Surely, if a miscommunication was made between them, it would be on his own end, right? Wilbur always knew how to act. He would have said if he made a mistake. They were twins, right?
They had to have been. Otherwise, why else would Technoblade feel so empty as soon as Wilbur had died?
The day L’Manburg was reclaimed. The day Wilbur died. The day he had unleashed two Withers upon the remains of a country.
The day Techno had died inside.
He felt the diamond blade slide through his twin’s chest. He could feel the heart that beat to the same drum as him slow to a halt. He could feel the mind that complimented his own fade away. He could feel his kindred soul die.
His grief only served to fuel his anger toward the people willing to replace one tyrant with another.
When Ghostbur came around, he felt nothing but cold in his soul.
The ghost of his twin did not compliment him as perfectly as his twin. He did not march to the same drum. He was not the leader he would follow.
But he could still feel their souls trying to click like they used to. And it hurt so much.
He would have nightmares of a diamond blade stabbing through his body. He could feel the cold blade going through his soul as his twin was put out of his misery. And he would wake up in a cold sweat, clutching at his heart and missing the heart that would beat with it.
No matter how many layers he would sleep under, he would always wake up cold.
Until one day he woke up warm.
He felt complete.
He felt whole.
He felt a heartbeat fall into perfect sync with his own.
He bolted from his bed and ran to the ruins of L’Manburg. He had to make sure. Because that can’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible.
Those tired eyes shouldn’t be looking at him. That slightly crooked smile shouldn’t be getting closer.
A hand took his own, and brought it to a pulse that shouldn’t be there. Another hand that shouldn’t be moving came up to his own pulse.
Perfectly in sync, as it always used to be.
“You still listening?”
“...Never stopped.”