Chapter Text
Technoblade’s will was haunting him.
It lurked at the side of his vision, tucked away on a side table, but always visible like it was mocking him.
Techno hadn’t come back for four days. Four days without a single word of what happened. Not even a single peep from Sam about the prison.
Phil knew he shouldn’t have gone. Phil knew he should have joined Techno. The prison was nothing but a blight on this server, infecting people more than that damn egg even did. He saw what it had done to Tommy, to Ghostbur. Unnatural things occurred in those cells, things that broke the natural order into a million pieces, and enraged the balance of life and death.
There was no justifiable reason for a place like that to exist. Not when people died in its confines. Not when the singular guard seemed to be warped by its very existence. Not when a prisoner had the ability to rewrite reality.
But he had still let Techno go, because when he got his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. It was that piglin stubbornness baked into his bones. A fire raging inside of him that refused to be put out no matter what. It was something Phil admired about him, and something that infuriated him to no end.
So he watched as Techno walked off into the snow, clutching the will in his hands tightly. He watched and watched until his form was finally covered up by the blinding white, and then waited just a bit longer just in case.
He knew Techno could hold his own, no matter what. He’d slain hundreds, defeated thousands. Any land he stepped on was rumored to have been razed to the ground within a year’s time.
Yet he gave Phil a will.
Techno, with all three of his lives left, gave Phil a will, like he didn’t expect to come back. It just didn’t make sense. There was no reason to give such a thing, especially not when going to a prison. Not unless he expected something bad to happen. But then why would he go?
Gods, Phil needed to check the will. He wanted to pry it open and spill out the secrets inside, but doing that felt almost like a condemnation. Like he was confirming that something was wrong, that Techno might be hurt, or worse. What else was a will for besides death?
But it had been four days. Four days too many, four days where Techno was just gone, leaving a hole in Philza’s life without his old friend there. So, with a heavy heart an a deep fear curling in his gut, he opened the book.
Activate the stasis chamber.
Phil let out a boisterous laugh. Four simple words were enough to knock away all of his anxiety, instead replacing it with mirth.
Of fucking course it wasn’t a will! Technoblade never dies! Why was he even worried? He always had backup plans, always had a trick up his sleeve. Phil never should have doubted him.
…He should have never waited this long to open the book.
Once again Phil’s heart dropped.
Had he waited too long? Did Techno think he’d understand the message immediately, and was already waiting for him to activate the chamber? No, he had said himself to wait a few days. But did that mean two days? Three days? Did he mess up by waiting four?
Phil slammed the book down, pulling on his cloak quickly and heading towards the Syndicate meeting room. He couldn’t waste another second here.
“Techno, mate, why’d you have to be so secretive?” He muttered to himself. Why couldn’t he have just said to shut the stasis chamber in a normal fashion?
…Okay, Phil knew the answer to that. It was because he’d become even more adamant that Techno not go, and would have probably activated it far too soon out of fear. But it was a justified fear! A prison with a death rate like that was something to worry about, especially with an unpredictable man trapped inside.
Phil jumped into the lava and down into the water below, hurrying through the tunnels leading towards the meeting room. In a few short turns he had come to the space, catching a glimpse of the chairs with their stasis chambers all face the table.
There, right at Techno’s seat, was the pearl.
Without a second thought, Phil slammed down the trapdoor.
In all honesty, Phil thought he was being irrational. He thought the anxiety was just his overprotective nature coming through, and he’d see Techno laughing and joking about what took him so long. He thought that he was just over thinking everything, and Techno would be none the worse for ware. No matter how worried he might be, Technoblade never dies. He always had a plan and was always one step ahead.
But instead of any of that, instead of a jovial Techno who would proceed to make fun of him for ever worrying, there was a thump on the ground and a hiss of pain from a voice already broken from the weight of screams.
In the light of the syndicate room, all Phil could see was the curled up form of his friend, a puddle of blood appearing beneath him.
“Techno?” Phil breathed out, voice shaking. He knelt down, turning over the barely conscious man, quickly trying to assess what was wrong. A thousand thoughts were going through his head, but only one stood out in that moment.
Sam.
Sam was supposed to be the one in charge of the prison. Sam was supposed to protect the people, both inside and outside of the cells. Nothing like this was supposed to happen under his watch. And while Phil knew he was corrupt before, this- this was so much worse.
Because there were knife wounds. Wounds that Dream wouldn’t be able to inflict in a jail cell. A jail cell that Techno should’ve been out of days ago. No, this was all intentional.
And Techno knew it.
He fucking knew it, and he went there anyway.
Phil wasn’t sad. He wasn’t crying at the pain inflicted on his friend, although he was sure he would when everything hit. No, he was fucking pissed.
Phil wasn’t the one with voices in his head that demanded blood. He wasn’t the man that tore apart monsters with his own bare hands, that faced violence head on without fear.
But he was the Angel of Death. He had burned villages to the ground, crushed governments beneath his feet. He had destroyed a country with TNT raining from the sky and withers to make sure nothing would grow from the husk ever again.
And he was pissed.
But Techno came first.
Techno always came first.
Even if the bloodlust coursed through his veins and begged to go straight to that prison and tear a sword right through that warden’s gut, he needed to be here for his old friend.
“Techno, mate, can you hear me?” He asked, voice calm despite the boiling rage just begging to be let out. His hands were shaking as they categorized the wounds littered across the man.
The stab wounds were the worst. They were bleeding sluggishly, dripping the crimson onto the floor in a puddle that shined in the light.
His arm was bent at an awkward angle, likely dislocated out of the socket. Some fingernails were missing, the sides covered in scratches from the grip of pliers. He looked sickly, like he hadn’t eaten anything in a while, his body shaking from tiredness and fatigue and pain.
But nothing was fatal. None of this was meant to kill the man, just to cause him so much physical harm until he was on the brink of breaking. They wanted him alive.
“Hey Phil,” a shaky voice spoke up.
Phil’s eyes were torn up to the man’s face as his eyes opened just barely to greet the man.
And his heart fucking broke.
There was nothing in his left eye socket.
While he was taking in everything, Phil had brushed off the blood on his face as residual from the knife wounds that scratched across his cheek, not taking a second glance as he focused on the more glaring injuries.
Except this was far, far worse than any other injury painting his body.
There was nothing left. Just a black void where his eye should be, the socket surrounded by scratches and tears indicating a brutal, painful process that had left him permanently disfigured. And it was fresh. Still bleeding, still inflamed.
All of it was recent.
Phil was just too late to save him from this fate.
Now Phil could feel tears welling up in his eyes, dripping down onto the man below and watering down the blood stained on his clothes.
All he wanted to do was weep and break down at the sight of his best friend that he was just too late to rescue, but he couldn’t let the grief consume him, just as he couldn’t let the anger control him.
He needed to stop the bleeding, and he needed to sterilize the wounds. The prison was probably a hotbed for infection and disease, and any number of these open wounds could spell disaster.
With shaking limbs, Phil carefully grabbed Techno, wrapping his arms under his back and trying not to touch the lacerations, but they were everywhere, and it was impossible to miss the grimaces of pain that crossed the hybrid’s face. The only saving grace was that he seemed to still be out of it, his eyes closing again in what must have been complete and utter exhaustion. The fact that he was able to cobble together a sentence before was practically a miracle.
As fast as he possibly could, Phil was rushing out of the meeting room, through the snow and slush until he was finally back at there home, where he knew everything he needed would be.
In a second he had pushed everything off their dining room table, laying Techno on the flat surface. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable, but it was level and high enough that Phil could assess the damage.
The next two hours were filled with Phil grabbing potions, stitching flesh, washing wounds. A process he hadn’t gotten lost in since old wars long over, left far behind in the past. Except now he couldn’t let himself go on autopilot. No, every single move he made was filled with fear and pain and grief and anger, all swirling together in a terrible concoction that he was honestly lucky didn’t completely paralyze him. It was only thanks to his knowledge and his strong will that he was able to push through until everything was stitched up and bandaged.
Everything except the eye.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at it, but he knew he had to, lest everything be all for nothing if that was the one spot that got infected.
Phil dipped a washcloth in the warm water he had set out, taking a deep breath before carefully washing around the socket that was still dripping blood. The hollow emptiness was seared into Phil’s mind, painting a grotesque picture of what must have happened. The finished product felt so viscerally wrong it nearly made him choke.
There wasn’t anything he could do to make it less painful, only putting a few drops of health and regen potions into the socket in the hopes that it would dull the nerves and stitch together the wounds that were left. There was nothing that could return Techno’s sight to him. Not even respawn would repair that damage that was done. He would forever be forced to live with only one eye.
Phil felt himself start to laugh. A broken laugh, one filled with sorrow. And with nothing left to do but wait, the rage returned to Phil, coming to the forefront of his mind and threatening to take him over. His hands shook, begging to tear at the man that dared to hurt Techno, and yet unable to leave the man’s side.
For as much as Techno cared about Phil, Phil cared about him ten times over. Techno would go to the ends of the earth for him, but Phil would go to the moon and back. The world wasn’t prepared for a Phil scorned. They thought they had it bad when Technoblade was angry? Just wait until they caught sight of the Angel of Death in action.
His thoughts stewed for hours, rage boiling and rising in his stomach, drowning out the pain he didn’t want to let himself feel, until he felt a hand clamp around his shoulder.
He whipped around, catching sight of Techno, looking beyond exhausted but awake.
“Tech!”
His arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders, careful of the wounds but still as tight as he could make it. Neither of them were ones for physical contact like this, but Phil needed this. He needed something to ground him, to remind him that Technoblade was okay, and the world could wait.
“Hey Phil. What’s got you so down?” The words fell flat, obviously an attempt at joking through the situation.
“Techno… you…”
“I’m alright, Phil. Just shaken up.” His voice was scratchy, barely able to get out the words at first.
“Shaken up?” Phil sputtered. “Mate, you… You were tortured…”
“Eh, potato, tomato.” He brushed him off, hand motioning lazily in the air. As if to show it was no big deal, he swung his legs over the side of the table, only to wobble unsuccessfully and nearly fall over, rescued by Phil who was quickly at his side.
“Don’t you move another inch. I did not spend hours stitching you up for you to go and ruin something because you think you’re fine after being gone for four days in a prison?”
“I am. I’ve been through worse.”
“Techno, your eye-”
“I had two of ‘em, what’s the big deal?”
“You’re partially blind! You got tortured! You look like you’re one step away from death!”
“I told you, I’ve dealt with far worse and you know it.” Phil was leveled an apathetic stare that screamed to let it be, but he knew Techno. There was fear in that gaze, in the crease of his eyebrows. The most subtle of clues that he would let through to show his true feelings.
“I know, but it was always in a situation you could escape from.” Phil grabbed his hand, careful of the missing fingernails. “You could always get away, and you did. But you were trapped this time. There was no way out for you. It’s okay to be hurt, and it’s okay to be scared.”
Techno looked unamused, but Phil could tell his words had gotten through as the piglin hybrid seemed to relax, slumping in just slightly. It was obvious he was still in a lot of pain no matter the front he was trying to put on.
“How does everything feel? Is anything tremendously painful? I tried to use healing potions but I didn’t want to overwhelm your system, especially because I don’t know how much you’ve eaten the past few days.”
“Barely anything. There were just potatoes, split between two people.”
“Potatoes?”
“Yeah, potatoes. Something tells me that prison wasn’t meant for Dream originally,” Techno said calmly, like he wasn’t just implying that the giant impenetrable fortress might have been created to house him.
“Okay… we’ll deal with that later. You didn’t answer the question about pain, though.”
“It’s fine.”
“Techno,” Phil admonished.
“Just the eye hurts right now,” he grit out.
Phil nodded, dipping a washcloth into the now lukewarm water, holding it up in a silent question. Techno nodded, baring the side of his face to Phil. The bleeding was still continuing from the eye socket, although it seemed to have slowed down in the time that had passed. He carefully held Techno’s chin, tilting his head up to get access before dabbing the clothe around the blots of blood.
The rage had simmered down now that Techno was awake and seemed to be in good spirits, but seeing the winces the small touches procured forced the next words out of his mouth without regard for delicacy.
“What happened in that prison, Techno?” Phil asked, his voice promising pain and suffering.
A dark shadow crossed Techno’s face. “Apparently the prison isn’t exactly holding itself up to high moral standards. Torture seems to be kind of a routine thing. Along with locking people up without a trial.”
“It was all a trap?” Phil breathed out.
“Yep.”
“I’m going to kill Sam.” Phil pushed himself away, unable to contain himself any longer.
“You’re gonna wanna wait a bit longer there. It wasn’t just Sam. He was complicit, but he was just being strung along. It was Quackity pulling all the strings there.”
Quackity. The man that almost executed Techno once before, who locked Phil up on house arrest with the help of Tubbo. The man that attempted to kill Techno after he escaped death, only to be struck down by a pickaxe. To the eye…
“Revenge. This was revenge,” Phil spat.
“Yep. An eye for an eye.” Techno chuckled morbidly.
“Makes the whole world blind,” finished Phil. “Does he not know the danger he’s put himself into now?”
“Either he’s stupid enough to think I could never escape, or he’s far gone enough to not care.”
“Neither matters to me.” Phil gripped the cloth tightly, the water dripping out of it onto the floor. Techno shook his head, placing a hand on Phil’s shoulder.
“Phil, this isn’t your issue. You shouldn’t get involved.”
“I shouldn’t get involved?! Techno, I got involved the second he decided to hurt you! You of all people should know I won’t just let something like this go!”
Techno looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Phil, I took responsibility when I went into that prison. I knew what I was getting into.”
“Then why did you go!” He cried out. “Techno, mate, why would you do this?” Phil didn’t want to blame his friend for being tortured, he really didn’t, but was he really implying he just walked into something know that it could cause him permanent disability?
“I didn’t know exactly what was going on. But you and I both knew that prison was up to no good. And I got this to show for it.” He pulled out a book from underneath his cloak. “Dream’s notes on everything he remembers about the prison’s plans, and everything that happened. It’s not pretty. Obviously. But now we can find an escape and get Dream out.”
Phil looked at the book, and back to his friend. A book, traded for the safety of his oldest ally. “It wasn’t worth it, mate.” He cupped a hand around the piglin hybrid’s face on the side where his eye was missing. “You shouldn’t have done that. You should’ve let me know. We’re supposed to be in this together. The two of us against the world.”
“This was my debt to repay, Phil. I wasn’t about to drag you into it.”
“Was a debt worth this? Techno, you’re worth more than any stupid debt from months ago! You could have died!” His voice broke on the last word, barely able to choke it out.
“But I didn’t! I got out, and I’m fine!”
“Fine? Techno, you lost an eye! You’ll never be able to see from your left side again! You can’t tell me you’re just okay with this!”
“It doesn’t matter. I did what I needed to.” Techno’s hands clenched tightly into fists.
“You got tortured!”
“I DIDN’T KNOW!” The book flew out of Techno’s hand, landing away far out of reach as his hands swept out violently into the air. “I didn’t know…”
“Tech…”
“I didn’t know, Phil. I didn’t think it’d be that bad. I thought it’d be okay. I thought I’d get the information I needed, and be out in a few days when you opened the will. I didn’t realize he was being tortured. I didn’t know it’d happen to me.” For the first time since he returned, tears threatened to spill from Techno’s… eye. Singular eye. Nothing fell, but the watery sheen was all too familiar. For someone who never fell apart, this was as close as he’d ever get to vulnerable. And of course he’d only ever do it in front of Phil.
The pit in Phil’s stomach deepened, threatening to swallow him whole as the feeling of complete and utter devastation came to the forefront of his mind. The last time he had ever felt this shattered was when he plunged a sword into his own son’s back. The feeling of complete and utter failure in the face of someone who needed his help.
“Tech, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have waited so long to open the book. I- I should’ve known it wasn’t real, I should’ve gotten you back the second I knew something was wrong. I made a mistake and now you’re paying for it.”
“No, Phil, I told you to wait. You did exactly what I asked you too. You couldn’t have known...”
“I should have though! If I was just a bit quicker none of this would have happened! I was so worried about opening the book I ended up dooming you to this fate! I’m so so sorry Techno. I’m so sorry.” He grabbed the remains of Techno’s cloak still wrapped around his shoulders, pulling the piglin hybrid close. His face was in his chest, tears streaming down onto his shirt and mixing with the dried blood left there.
“Phil.” Techno’s voice was shaky. “I need you to listen to me when I tell you it’s not your fault. No one could have known what was going on in that prison. What happened happened, and now, we go in there and we burn the whole thing to the ground. You and me, together. Okay?”
He placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder, speaking to the raging fire still burning inside of him. Phil’s sobs lessened, but he still didn’t loosen his grip. The pain had won out in the battle between anger and grief.
“I’m sorry Techno. I’m sorry Wil. I didn’t mean it,” Phil gasped out. “I just wanted to protect you but I failed. Please forgive me…”
He shook, taking in deep gasping breaths that seemed to do nothing. “I can’t protect the people I care about…” It seemed no matter what he did, Phil was cursed to fail. To never be able to stop pain befalling those who mattered. Enough heartbreak like that- it was enough to shatter a man.
He buried his face further into the man he knew he had failed, and yet who still refused to blame him.
Techno’s remaining eye only gazed ahead, out the window of the small cabin. The snow was still falling, the snowflakes landing on piles that would continue to build up until it finally became overwhelming.
Though the cabin was warm, Techno still shivered. His hand loosely gripped onto Phil’s shoulder, unable to hold him as tight as he wanted with the minuscule amount of strength he had left.
He was exhausted.
Even now, nothing had quite hit yet. The only thing that mattered in his mind was Phil. But Phil was sobbing over him, and there was nothing he could say or do, because he was just barely holding himself together as it was.
Technoblade never dies, but he can break.
A thousand voices cheered for death and destruction in his mind, but for once in his life, Techno couldn’t bring himself to fall victim to the rage.
He held Phil closer.
The snow continued to fall, looking far too close.