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When Philza brought a small orphaned hybrid home in a dip in self control, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.
Being around as long as he had meant he knew plenty about piglins. Being a hybrid himself gave him a leg up as well.
Now he wasn’t expecting the kid to take to him quickly, nor be any sort of ‘normal’. After all, he had no idea what events had led to the child being abandoned, or how long he had been alone.
So, he was cautious.
Did enough to help the boy without being overbearing, but also enough to show him love and care.
And, it seemed to work!
The piglin boy (Phil guesstimated him to be about 10) slowly warmed up to him. Technoblade, or Techno as he came to be called, wasn’t the most affectionate person Phil found out. But he showed his love in little ways.
Phil saw it when Techno would touch their shoulders together as they cooked. He saw it when he would treat Phil’s tools with the utmost care. And, he treasured the small smiles he got here and there, chipped tusk and all.
Philza Minecraft was already smitten when he saw the raggedy boy trailing him in the nether, but now it was certain.
He would do anything for his son.
So when he was awoken at night to hear a thudding coming from the boy’s room, he was up and armed in an instant.
He expected a zombie or a skeleton at the window at the worst. Techno practicing his sword swings on the bedpost again at the best.
He wasn’t expecting what he saw.
Technoblade stood there, the gold sword his only past possession clutched in his hand as he banged his forehead against the wall repeatedly.
The only other sound heard below the thuds was Techno quietly grunting in piglin over and over: No.
Philza’s hand, previously on the axe on his hip, flew forward to catch his son’s forehead before it could make contact again.
Like a button being pressed, Techno fell silent. At the same time, his golden blade swung through the air silently.
One wrong move would put the edge of the sword through Phil’s throat at best. At worst, decapitate him.
“Hey buddy.” Phil did his best to keep his voice calm and collected. It’s not that he didn’t trust Techno, he just alway had a feeling there were sides to him the boy was hiding. “What's going on? Talk to me Techy.”
“No.” it came out in whispered English this time. Then again a tad louder, eyes still fixated on the wall, “No.” The third time brought him to his normal volume though his tone was anything but, “No.”
If Phil had to describe what he was hearing in his son’s voice based on that one repeated word, he would have to say: desperation.
The piglin’s head snapped to the right, making eye contact with Phil finally. With eyebrows pinched downwards and eyes begging for help, he looked as bad as he sounded.
Philza’s heart broke.
“No.” Techno repeated again in a broken whisper before taking the palm of his freehand and smacking his forehead repeatedly. He began chanting again, this time the phrase ‘shut up’ slipping between piglin and English.
“Techno please, talk to me.” Phil inwardly cringed at the waver that snuck into his voice. He was supposed to be strong. He had to be the rock in this situation. But everyone knows there’s no free book to parenting, and if there was, it probably wouldn’t cover this.
Like before, Phil’s voice seemed to make him stop at least momentarily. He took the second of calm to notice that while Techno’s whole body was trembling, his sword hand stayed perfectly steady.
Technoblade’s bottom lip quivered, his voice shaking with it, “Please. Not again. Don’t make me do it again.... Please.” His eyes shone with collecting tears, and although they looked directly at Philza, he had an odd feeling he wasn’t the one being spoken to.
He responded anyway, “Do what buddy?”
Techno’s eyes locked onto the sword as if seeing it for the first time. They widened as if to prove that true and he whispered for the hundredth time that night, “No.” and again louder as his breathing quickened, “No.”
With a final shout, he stepped back and threw his sword across the room, not even watching it clatter under his bed, “NO!”
Instead he stared at his now empty shaking hands as he collapsed to the floor sobbing, “I can’t. I won’t! I won’t…..”
After a pause, he continued his previous berating this time with both fists colliding with his head with every sharp ‘shut up’.
Phil knelt in front of him, catching his wrists gently, “Shhh buddy don’t hurt yourself. It’s okay, I’m here. Here, we’ll even-” he took his netherite axe and slid it across the floor by the discarded sword. “There, now we’re both unarmed. Can you tell me what’s the matter?”
What must have only been a minute drug out in silence aside from Techno’s ragged breathing. Philza almost expected to not receive an answer before he heard his son’s quiet voice, “They want me to… they need me to-” he wouldn’t finish the thought, nor make eye contact with him.
Philza prompted him gently, “It's okay Techy, I’m here to help you. You can tell me anything.”
The piglin child was young yes, but proven by their sparring sessions he was strong. Phil might even say scary too. His eyes would flash their ruby red and a shadow seemed to descend across his face. Afterwards though, he might wiggle his nose and grin, breaking the dark visage as if it had never been.
Right now, the scary face was back and piercing the man’s soul.
“They want me to kill you.” His voice was clearer than anything he had said that night.
Phil nodded slowly. More so to encourage further communication than because he understood what he heard. “Okay, and can you tell me who they are?”
“The Voices.” Techno continued to look on, staring through Philza’s chest more than at it. “They’re so loud. So persistent.” He wasn’t crying anymore. If anything it seemed like an odd calm had washed over him.
“Whose voices bud?”
Techno shook his head slowly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising, “They have no owners, but they’re all different. I know they’re not mine though.”
“What-” Philza squeezed Technoblade’s hands, hopefully reassuringly and steeled himself for the boy’s response, “what exactly are they telling you? Are you up for telling me what you mean by ‘ again’ ?”
He weakly squeezed back but fell silent again, eyes now moving about hearing an invisible dodgeball match of voices.
Phil had several more questions. How many were there? How long has he heard them? Does he always hear them? But, he didn’t want to overwhelm the poor hybrid.
Techno took a deep breath, “They… told me to kill before. He was very bad. Did bad things. They told me he deserved it.”
“I see.” Philza navigated carefully, “I’m not gonna be mad Techno, but are you saying you’ve killed someone?”
He nodded slowly, bottom lip quivering again, “The bar was high. He was bad. But… they liked it. Too much. So I did it again and again and again.” Silent tears painted Technoblade’s cheeks as he recounted his previously buried past. “I got really good at it. The others didn’t like that.”
“Is that… is that why you were alone?”
Techno nodded again. Suddenly, he let go of Philza’s hands, wiping his tears away roughly with his arm. He stood with a sniffle and an attempt to hold his head high, “Don’t worry, I'll pack my things and be gone by the morning.”
Philza looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion, standing up with him, “And what makes you think that will make things better?” Techno hesitated. “Is that what you want, or what you think I want?”
The piglin opened and shut his mouth, no answer being just right.
Phil sighed lovingly, “Technoblade.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and knelt down to make eye contact better. “Listen to me. I am not scared nor disgusted by you or your actions. You are a child whether you like it or not who shouldn’t be expected to face this alone.”
Techno tried to speak again but was stopped by Philza holding up a finger, “I don’t care how much blame you think you deserve. Your people should’ve helped you, not thrown you away. And for that,” he squeezed his son’s shoulder with a sad smile, “I am sorry.”
“You’ve done nothing but show me kindness. You have nothing to apologize for.” Techno looked away frowning, “I’m just a danger.”
Phil shook his head with a growing smile, “I’ve seen ancient people go down over lesser things Techno. The fact that you,” he placed his other hand on the other hybrid’s chest, “are so functional and capable on your own speaks volumes of your strength. However,” Techno lifted his head up in Phil’s direction anxiously waiting for the metaphorical axe, “that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder this alone.”
Finally ruby red eyes met surprisingly watery green ones. Techno teared up again looking at the only person who didn’t see him as a monster. Would that be the end of their conversation? Probably not. Would there be more sadness, anger, and tears? Probably. But for right now, on this difficult night…
Technoblade launched himself into his adopted father’s arms sobbing once more. Philza’s own tears sparkled in the torchlight as he held tightly to what had become
his world.
His purpose.
His son.