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Upon birth, everyone is born with heterochromia.
The left eye of a person is their natural eye color, and their right eye is the color of their soulmate's. A person will have multicolored eyes up until the moment they make eye contact with their soulmate, then their right eye becomes their natural eye color. However, not everyone has a soulmate. That had been the law of the universe implemented long before mankind or players came into existence.
A large percentage of those with soulmates were players. Including Technoblade.
(“If you seek adventure, you must pray,” the harsh words of piglin are whispered over the bonfire. While his littermates dance and cheer over another successful hunt, he reads, the Elder coming to sit beside him. “And sometimes the universe will hear your prayers, for They are Love themselves, and they have answered.”)
Techno had never believed in all the religious connotations the Knowledge Keepers proclaimed in his village. They believed that he was someone special when, in reality, Techno was no better than the rest. He was the runt of his litter, yet the only one with the soul of a player. It was rare for a mob to become one. They never saw him. They just saw the potential warrior he could become. The first boon of players had given birth to the legends that are now told from generation to generation. When players were no longer viewed by the masses as people.
There was a weight that came with the status. One that had haunted his shadows as a piglet.
(“The universe is what you make it to be, young keeper. You are different from us. One day you shall see.”)
To this day Techno doesn’t understand why he is so special. Was it his curse of immortality? The consequences of saving his village by becoming the Blood God’s vessel. His life over countless others. He hadn’t hesitated back then but if he knew just what nightmare he had in store- if he had known his village would exile him, cursing him as a monster, would he have made the same choice?
Maybe that’s why the concept of soulmates left him feeling so bitter. He couldn't imagine having someone who'd love him flaws and all. It was just too childish. The real world was never that easy, and the universe wasn't that kind.
Techno had never wanted a soulmate. Soulmates are a weakness. A vulnerability Techno couldn’t risk in his dangerous life where any misstep would end in someone’s untimely death. He couldn’t be tied down if he could never make eye contact with others. Every piglin went through a coming-of-age ceremony in which they were assigned a creature to hunt down.
It was to whittle out the weak. In the nether, only the strong survived.
When Techno arrived on Hypixel straight from the nether, wearing the skull of a hoglin from his first hunt, he had officially given up on finding his soulmate. He’d lived centuries just fine on his own. He’d survive plenty more on his own. He didn’t need someone to tie him down.
And besides, who would want to be his soulmate?
He was the Blood God that had laughed in death’s face and come back reeling for more. He had violent and paranoid voices screaming at him always demanding more, hungering for blood, never ceasing. More often than not Techno was painted as the villain by others. Honestly, he couldn’t very well blame them. His list of flaws was neverending. He wasn’t a good person. Not by any means.
But every day when he’d remove his armor and hang up his skull mask, Techno’s gaze drifted to the mirror. In his left eye, the sclera was pitch black with a red ring of freshly spilled blood upon the battleground to act as the pupil and iris. His right eye was the kind of green of fresh grass and new buds like the kind Techno first saw when he left the Nether.
Techno spent his time visiting different servers and participating in tournaments to appease the voices. He’d take on hired jobs to participate in wars on SMPs, never lingering long enough to form any lasting attachments. His life was chaotic and eventful just like it had been in the Nether. It was nice having free will rather than being shackled to his responsibilities as a brute.
But, still, Techno found himself growing bored. It all felt tedious. This wasn’t living. This was just surviving day by day.
Until, one autumn day, word broke out about a new SMP. It was a faction-based server where the factions were used to simulate real nations. It was to simulate a normal world but for players. In the beginning, there were only sixty slots. Techno recognized the creators’ names. He remembered meeting one of them- Wilbur Soot- in a tournament years ago. He thought the man to be annoying, but his company was enjoyable.
Was this what he was searching for all this time?
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Upon joining the server Techno set his sights on the far south.
His plan was simple- to start an empire and take over the server. There were no rules against world domination, and the voices seemed more than pleased with the concept. Plus he figured running an empire would be pretty cool. Definitely different from what he’s done before. He spent the first few days collecting resources before setting off for the Arctic, knowing that he needed food in the barren snowy wastes. It would be suicide to head there with nothing.
It was odd interacting with his kin within the volcanoes of Africa. The pigmen had been hostile toward him, and many had been overcome with the zombie virus that had broken out in his youth. Some say it was caused because of Herobrine’s disappearance. They calmed down once they caught sight of his golden crown, but he never let his guard down. While faction powers increased, Techno kept mining. Once he had gathered enough mining supplies he began the arduous journey.
His plan was to head to Antarctica and conquer the fortress that lay buried beneath the snowy plains and mountains. He’d heard it was left behind by an ancient civilization reminiscent of the server before the new admins’ takeover. It would be both advantageous in his hopes for world domination, and it would be nostalgic of the abandoned bastion he took shelter in following the long years of his exilement.
During the trip across the Indian Ocean toward Australia, Techno became aware that he was being followed. He didn’t have much in terms of weaponry, and he only had a set of weathered iron armor. There was no telling what his pursuer had on their person. If it came down to a fight Techno knows he can handle his own. That was a last-case scenario, though.
As much as Techno hated to admit, he needed allies. He pulled up his player interface scrolling through the active members whilst chewing on some jerky. His finger swipes across the pink holographic screen, names blurring past his eyes at quick speeds.
One person, in particular, caught his eye; Philza.
Anyone and their mothers knew the name of Philza Minecraft and the legends that came with it. Techno had never met the man in person, but his name was everywhere he went. The youngest person to ever gain wings after defeating the enderdragon in a hardcore world. The Angel of Death was told to be blessed by Death herself and had cheated death countless times. The Hardcore God. The closest Techno ever got to know the man had been when Wilbur off-handedly mentioned him.
(“Ah, Phil would love this,” Wilbur whistles admiring the pair of elytra they had been fitted with. Techno grunts turning away. The man hums, lifting his arm watching how the insect-like wings flutter out. “Although nothing beats the real deal.”)
Techno is surprised to see his name on the register.
He hadn’t spotted the man in the lobby while waiting for the server to open. It was hard not to see someone with wings, yet he had slipped under his perceptive radar. There were no rumors of any important events either. Perhaps he was laying low.
Interesting.
Without hesitation, Techno swipes on the man’s name pulling up a voice channel. The air around him shimmers as a holographic headset settles over his head. He’ll never get used to this SMP stuff. Back in Hypixel, they stuck with communicators; a smooth hook to secure across the back of a person’s ear, and a bulbous centerpiece that would broadcast and receive transmissions. They weren’t always reliable and the connections were horrible, but it was familiar.
The voices cheer excitedly, and Techno barely hears the crackle of static over their mingling voices.
“Guys, quiet.” He mutters and swats the air as if brushing away annoying bugs. Which, in a sense, they were. As annoying as the voices were, however, Techno had grown quite fond of them.
“Hello?” Phil greets, voice accented and far too genuine to be real. It was definitely not the person Techno had imagined. “You’re Technoblade, right?” Techno hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. He didn’t think Philza would actually pick up. Then, before he can gather his words, Philza speaks up. “It was smart of you to start in Africa to monopolize on the diamonds. So, what’d you call for?”
“I’m heading to Antarctica.” Techno debates on how much he should reveal. He decides to just keep it short and simple for now. “Was wondering if you wanted to join.”
There’s a long pause. For a moment, Techno worries he’d been hung up on.
When Phil speaks, the smile is evident in his voice. “Sure.”
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Over the course of the next week, Techno and Phil keep in contact.
Techno tried to reassure the voices (and himself) that this was just to keep Phil on his good side, but a part of him enjoyed their conversations. On late nights when he couldn’t sleep and the only sound for miles were the waves crashing against his boat, Phil always picked up. He never seemed to mind. He’d make up for Techno’s social inability- talking about his time on a hardcore world before coming here.
He always sounded so passionate about what he talked about that it made listening all the better. Sometimes Techno would just lay and listen to him ramble on about nonsensical things. It was nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t afraid of him. The voices were fond of Phil as well, shouting out his name every time he joined the call or trying to get his attention. More often than not it only resulted in giving Techno a headache.
His pursuer hasn’t given up.
“I just reached Antarctica,” Techno conveys over the call. He places a fence post down and ties his boat so it won’t drift away. The supplies that can’t be magically whisked away into his inventory are shoved inside a worn satchel. “The dude is still after me, so I might need some back-up.”
“I’m on my way. I can probably fly over there in twenty.” Of course. Wings. He bites back a retort. The snow crunches under his boot as he sluggishly makes his way toward the mountains. Last he checked the stronghold should be built inside a mountain, hidden under the snow and rocks. It would be best to get on a higher vantage point. He sets down a crafting table quickly making a set of climbing gear.
“Wish I had a plane right about now.” He complains, stabbing the hook into the rock side. Even with gloves on, the snow seeps through numbing his fingers. As he climbs higher the winds grow stronger. They push at his body attempting to shove him off and to his death. He’s halfway up when the sun begins rising. Golden sunbeams stretch out across the expanse of white causing the snow to glitter and sparkle. From this altitude, he can see the entire island. “Well...at least it’s got a nice view.”
Techno had just reached a ledge when a flaming arrow was fired. It narrowly misses his head lodging into the snow with a gentle hiss. He looks back squinting through the fog. They seriously want him dead, huh? Vaguely, he sees the silhouette of a player. Techno climbs the edge rolling onto his side catching his breath. He can hear the rocks break as someone scales the mountain after him. There’s still a long way to the top.
That’s when Techno sees it. The clouds part as a black blur comes flying past at extreme speeds. Someone lands on the ledge beside him, and Techno blinks as a diamond sword is drawn, the sharp blade pressing against his neck. The stranger is short. If Techno stood they’d only reach his shoulders, scrawny but with lean muscle, dressed in green robes and a wide-brimmed hat, a heavy-looking cloak drawn around his shoulders. A black veil hides his face.
“Are you Technoblade?” He asks, and Techno knows that voice. He just hadn’t expected the man to seem so young. In all the stories they painted Philza as an immortal deity of sorts. Much like himself. Sure, in mortal terms, he was old, but not to Techno. Not to someone who has watched empires rise and fall, servers close and reopen as if nothing had ever happened, civilizations evolve.
Flabbergasted, Techno stumbles over his words. “Phil?” The sword draws away and is replaced by a hand. The fingertips are calloused with years of fighting. Techno’s mind reels. He reaches out grasping onto the thin, smaller wrist, and stands. Just as he thought. Phil is short. At the confirmation, Techno vocalizes this thought.
“It’s not that I’m short. It’s just that you’re abnormally tall,” Phil snorts, crossing his arms across his chest. His head lifts just enough so that, through the veil, Techno can see his lips curl into a smile. “So I take it that the guy scaling the mountain is an enemy?”
“Yeah…” Techno can’t tear his eyes away from Phil’s head. He watches Phil twirl his sword around.
Before Techno can react, the man is stepping off the edge and plummeting toward the ground. He watches in mild shock and awe as, midfall, Phil swings his sword cutting off his pursuer's head. The cloak on his back glows a blinding white and transforms into a pair of large black feathered wings. Two flaps are all it takes to send him spiraling back up. Techno steps back so Phil can land back on the ledge. “Well, I guess that’s taken care of. We should have no trouble clearing out the stronghold. Once we reach the top that is, and by the time we get up there it’ll be nightfall.”
“I can carry you up,” there’s no mistaking the playful mischievousness in Phil’s voice. “Unless you’d rather climb.”
Techno can’t remember the last time someone acted so fearless around him. Even those that fit the technical term of “friend” were always reserved. Always scared of stepping on toes or upsetting him. He’d learn to just ignore it, that this was another part of life, but Phil is different. He doesn’t look upon Techno like all the countless warriors and legends who looked on in fear. No, to Phil, they are equals.
He readjusts the skull over his face. “If you think you can, angel.”
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Phil filled that emptiness in Techno’s life he never noticed was missing.
They rotate around one another, each others’ sword and shield, as they conquer countries and bring leaders to their knees, but one can only fight so many battles side by side with another person before the line between allies and friends begin to blur. As Techno comes to soon realize, he begins to see Phil as more than just a co-leader. Labels couldn’t describe their relationship. It went deeper than an average friendship.
They are both already legends when they met. They had been equals long before they met. Maybe that’s part of what pulls them together- like two magnets that were destined to come together. In the end, it was always going to be Philza and Technoblade, the Angel of Death and the Blood God, side by side. Techno didn’t doubt that for one second.
When he made an off-hand comment about it to Phil, the man had thrown back his head and laughed, black wings fluttering with mirth.
“You make it sound like we’re soulmates or something, mate,” Phil says, the veil dusting across his skin, gloved hands cupped around a cup of hot cocoa.
And then it hits him.
Even without making eye contact, Techno knew.
They were soulmates. Upon that realization came the internal dread and insecurities. They were soulmates. This couldn’t be right- there had to have been a mistake. But he knew it was only wishful thinking.
So, rather than confront Phil, he kept living in ignorance. Techno wore his mask more making sure to never take it off around the other man, constantly on edge every time Phil removed his hat or raised the veil. Sometimes he’d wear it to sleep or go without eating an entire day. He didn’t want to risk what they had. He knew how Phil felt about soulmates, and if he found out then everything they’ve built all these years will be for naught.
Techno will go back to being alone.
Techno decides that- even if for just a little longer- he’ll keep this to himself.
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Techno sighs heavily as he shoves the heavy wooden door open stumbling into his room. He’d been returning from a reconnaissance mission when he got ambushed. Luckily, he managed to fight them off and run before he could be overwhelmed, but not without suffering some nasty blows. The hand against his side is stained with blood. He slumps against a desk before his legs can give way, breathing heavily through his nostrils.
A knock.
“Hey, how’d it go?” Phil. He couldn’t see him like this. Items are sent clattering across the floor as Techno struggles to move. “I was thinking-” He hears the door creak. No, no, he needs an excuse. The voices are screaming suggestions but it only makes the panic worse. It was stupid of him to let his guard down in the first place. This was his mistake. Phil shouldn’t have to clean up after him.
It’s too late.
Techno hears the lights flicker on and Phil’s sharp inhale as he takes in the blood trail. There’s a long minute where neither speaks. Boots thump against the floorboards and familiar, gentle hands grip Techno’s arm.
“Bed. Now.” There is no room for argument in his voice. Techno bonelessly lets Phil guide him to the giant bed, sitting down on the edge wanting nothing more than to just sleep the pain away. “What happened?”
“Ambush. Big group. Surprised I didn’t see ‘em sooner,” Techno murmurs, tongue heavy in his mouth. He lifts his arms so Phil can tug his shirt off. A damp cloth begins to clean the gash on his side. “Just got taken off guard. I’ll live.” From Phil’s silence, he can tell the man is upset. He isn’t wearing his hat and he’s dressed in his nightclothes. He must’ve been getting ready for bed. “You don’t have to do this, Phil. I can take care of myself-”
He’s cut off by a hand gripping the leather strap around his head. Techno’s heart rate spikes. “What- what are you doing-”
“Checking for a concussion or worse. Your mask is chipped so, obviously, you got hurt,” Phil says in a clipped tone. “Stop being a baby.”
“I’m not-” Techno reaches up, gripping Phil’s wrist tightly. “I can take care of it myself. This is nothing.”
“Techno, we’ve known each other for years. Stop being so stubborn and take off the mask.”
Not yet.
Not now, please.
Not while he’s weak and vulnerable and pathetic. Techno fumbles with his words as he hears the buckles connecting the strap to the skull come undone. As the skull is pulled away, Techno squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t care how cowardly he is. He’d rather experience anything but losing Phil.
A hand firmly grips his chin and tips his head up. Trying to get a better look. Techno’s palms feel clammy. He rubs them against his thighs.
His breath hitches when a thumb delicately wipes away the streak of blood at his mouth. When Phil speaks his voice is quiet and tense, his anger barely restrained. “Do you know who did this?”
“Not sure,” Techno says because he doesn’t know what else. His head feels floaty as if he’s suspended in midair. “Could’ve been those nerds from up north. You know the ones we broke an alliance off with?”
A low hum. “You’ve got some bruising, but otherwise you’re alright. We’ll have to keep an eye on that gash though.” The hand slips from his chin. Techno makes the mistake of opening his eyes believing Phil had stepped away.
He hadn’t.
Their eyes meet. Techno knows those eyes. They’re the same ones he sees every day in the mirror before strapping on the skull and running away. Phil’s right eye begins to darken in color until, to Techno’s horror, becomes green.
“You…” Emerald eyes flick across Techno’s face. Phil’s brow furrows. “You knew.”
“I had a feeling.” He admits, unable to tear his gaze away. “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t-” and there it is. That crippling, slithering feeling that tangles around his heart squeezing. Fear. “I don’t want a soulmate, and I knew you didn’t either. I thought we could just...ignore it.”
“Damn it,” Phil sighs heavily. Techno’s hand twitches when he steps back. He runs a hand through his hair, golden locks messy and lips pulled into a thoughtful scowl. Any minute now he’ll leave. And Techno would watch because, in the end, he understands. Phil was a free spirit. He went wherever his thirst for adventure took him. Techno, on the other hand, had been debating retirement. He was tired of the constant fighting and bloodshed. He missed the peaceful life of his youth. They were two sides of a coin. Opposites, yet the same. “You know what this means, right?”
Techno swallows the lump in his throat. His fingers flex against the blankets. “I can help get a boat prepared. It’s late enough that no one will notice and by the time you reach shore it’ll be morning-”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The genuine confusion in Phil’s voice catches Techno off guard. “Okay, what’s going on in your head, Techno. Did you...did you think I’d just leave?” He sounds hurt, and that’s the last thing Techno had ever wanted. He nods. There’s a shuffling of clothes. Techno waits. Waits to hear the inevitable footsteps that led away and for the door to slam shut.
The world slows to a halt when a forehead presses against his, hands brushing against his cheeks to cup his face. “I’d never leave you. Where you go, I follow.”
The tension seeps away. With a shaky inhale, Techno presses closer until their noses bump.
“Then...what were you thinking?”
“Well, being soulmates sure is the perfect excuse to get married, doncha think?”
“Uh, look, Phil, I don’t wanna hurt your feelings but- I don’t want that kinda relationship.”
“Oh, I know. But if we get married that means we’ll have to pay fewer taxes to the server.” Techno stays silent for a second, two, then bursts out laughing. Phil soon follows, his head coming to rest against Techno’s shoulder and arms wrapping around his torso in a loose hug. “I’m glad that out of everyone, it’s you.”
“Yeah…” He tucks his face against Phil’s neck wondering why he had ever worried in the first place.
“I think now’s as good a time as any, though, to let you know that I’m married to Death.”
Silence.”
“...Phil, I’m not that much of an idiot. I kinda figured given how much you’d purposely end up dying only to come back looking like a lovestruck idiot.” Phil’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. Techno smiles, hearing his tail slap against the bed. “So. What kinda ring do you want?”