Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

News travel as fast as lightning in the SMP. Especially news about Dream. That is because no matter what news it was, it was bound to be terrible. That was something known to all inhabitants of the Dream SMP. With that being said, they were never mentally (or physically) prepared for any news about the Admin, whether he was imprisoned or not. And this time was no exception.

All of their communicators had rung a familiar tune. A tune that often indicated someone had entered or left the SMP’s vast geographical boundaries. That same communicator showed exactly who was in the region, provided that their communicator was working, and they weren’t dumb enough to transverse the dangerous mob-infested Dream-governed (or previously governed) plains of the SMP without a communicator’s Coordinate Identifier. Everyone’s name was listed, put on plain sight for everyone to see (for Dream to see), so that no one hides where they can’t be found (where Dream can’t find them).

And as such, word travelled fast, especially the word of death. A communicator is more than just a device; it is like a beacon of light. Once its owner dies, the light flashes out in alert, letting a simple short text fly out to let the people know that a fellow SMP member had passed away. Once everyone had heard the chime, they knew it was something important. Someone new came in, someone old had left, or…

Dream fell out of the world.

Sam glanced at his device, comprehension eluding him. Dream was supposed to be just a few meters away, imprisoned, desperately trying to live and survive another day, hoping to escape. The thought of him dying was as unlikely as the sun rising from the west. The man, even in his weakened state was dangerous, almost immortal. And if Sam hadn’t known any better, he’d think the man would never actually die. That there’s some sort of hidden power in his palms that won’t make him perish, at least not permanently. The looming thought of his inevitable return haunted them all, and that’s why they kept him here, where he could be seen and controlled. Sure, they wanted the revival book, but did it really matter? After ten months of torture, ten months of interrogation and ridicule, they could have come to terms with the fact that killing the man was much better than keeping him alive. But there was the fear of what then? What if they kill him, and he comes back again somehow, seeking revenge on all that has transpired in those obsidian walls? They had thought that they’d broken him irreversibly. The light had gone out from his eyes the first five months of his forced residence in Pandora’s Vault. But something had changed when Quackity did the stupid thing of luring Techno-fucking-Blade into the prison. There was hope in the air, there was strength. And even though Technoblade miraculously escaped, leaving his prison buddy to rot and die alone, the fire wasn’t gone. Dream seemed more mentally present than he ever did, even before imprisonment.

And Sam (no, everyone that had seen him in this state) feared him even more than before. This silent strength. A dragon in sheep’s clothing awaited them. Even Quackity felt reluctant to visit the prison now, electing to simply give up on most days. Quackity played it off as if he didn’t care, that he might as well let the Admin spend the rest of his life there if he wants, with no human contact. But they both knew the truth of things.

That was the expectation, the dread and fear of the warden. That was the burden. But…

Dream fell out of the world.

He read the message again. It just didn’t make sense.

Quackity was in Las Nevadas, overseeing preparations for the new desert-themed water park with Foolish and a few others, all of whom had paused work to dumbly stare at the communicator. Quackity had last seen Dream five hours prior, where the sun had just risen with his shears cutting the Admin’s skin liberally. His prisoner was bleeding back then, pained, unable to move, but very much alive. Quackity’s methods were at times risky, like that morning was, but it was within his calculated error margins. He would never lethally harm Dream as long as he didn’t have the revival book, and Quackity was positive that Dream knew that. There was just no way something he’d done had killed him. Hell, if Quackity did kill him, the message on the communicator would have been much different, much more incriminating. And yet there he stood wide-eyed staring at his device, jabbing its figurative finger at his chest, shouting:

Dream fell out of the world.

He read the message again. It just didn’t make sense.

The infamous Clingyduo were loudly chattering as they enjoyed the nice afternoon breeze, saying provocative words that further ignites their conversation. Their cheer was interrupted by the chime. Tommy stood there next to Tubbo out in the open sunny field, shell-shocked. And for the first time in any life of his, he was speechless. He read the message as if it had no meaning. He couldn’t understand the words if he tried, not in those few silent moments.

Tommy tried to piece together the message word by word. The first word was Dream, a terrible man who’d manipulated him, lied to him. A man so indestructible and wicked, he somehow managed to live despite the whole server being thirsty for his blood. He was a man with so much power and influence, that even death was in his grasp, a mere tool to be used on a whim. Tommy wasn’t even sure if he was a man, at least not the man he once was when he joined the server. Tommy knew he was a troublemaker, a boy who had stood in the face of power and had felt its wrath viscerally, until he himself was crystallised into an immovable object. Where they clashed, there were just campfire memories of hushed friendly conversations, and shouts of betrayal, angry, terrible shouts from both him and someone he once thought was a friend. That was Dream. And no matter how much he pretended that he doesn’t fear him, how much he acted like he can defy him, Tommy was never able to overcome the unstoppable force that was Dream, and was only right here because other people had grounded him. The Dream he knew now was a monster, that kind of monster. He wasn’t his old friend, and Tommy was beginning to believe that he never was (never will be).

And yet, staring at the device in his shaky palms, he saw what he could not understand.

Dream fell out of the world.

He read the message again. It just didn’t make sense.

Kinoko Kingdom wasn’t silent for long, as Sapnap’s confused outbursts shook the very foundations of the country, enough to wake George from his indefinite lonely slumber. With Karl at their side, unable to understand the weight of what they had lost, or the implications of what has become, they huddled together, trying to comprehend the message as if none of them knew how to read. The first word was Dream, a man that had betrayed them, their former best friend.

Sapnap had vowed to kill him should he escape, that was his burden and expectation.

George was overcome by his fatigue and sadness, that he had a proclivity to sleep for days and days on end, waiting for the day the server goes back to how it was. That was his foolishness, his expectation.

The pair didn’t speak often, each indulged in his own version of grief. Grief for the boy they met when they were kids, out in the woods on his own, wearing nothing but shorts, a green T-Shirt, and a white mask. Grief for the day where they gave him coloured pencils and pens to decorate the blankness on his face, and the warmth they felt when he decided on a simple smile, so that they may always know his happy self. Grief for their community house, for their fishing nights, for their hunting games… Grief for the friend, the one that hides within an alienated mind. What was once a desire for peace and unity, turned into a desire for power and control. The Admin was now imprisoned, and they were safe. And Sapnap had his axe at the ready.

What neither of them had suspected, was this cursed message:

Dream fell out of the world.

They read the message again. It just didn’t make sense.

The syndicate were having a lovely meeting on whether Las Nevadas should be destroyed or not, over mugs of hot chocolates and Niki’s delicious cookies. They all glanced between themselves and the device, unsure of what to say or how to react. 

Every single person on the SMP was confused, except of course for Technoblade, who didn’t spare his comrades a glance. The former escaped convict had spent three months with Dream alone in the cell, only to be liberated by Philza (by an 87 day miscalculation on the older friend’s part). And two months into the present, overall ten months into Dream’s cumulative entrapment, the man was dead. Only Technoblade knew what had happened to the excruciating detail.

And Technoblade was not snitching on a man he’d gotten to know well for three indispensable months of his life. No matter how much he played it off to his friends, that wretched prison had affected him, and no doubt it was worse for his new friend. For three months, Dream and obsidian were his whole world. There was nothing to do except talk. Dream and Techno, both being men of action, neither connected to each other in any familiar way, were forced to talk to each other in a clock-less space. Techno learned many things about the man, and Dream no doubt learned his share of things. An unlikely comradery replaced their old dull rivalry. And if it was up to Techno, the prison would have been blown up mere days after his escape.

But Dream had a plan. And who was Technoblade to impede on his friend’s wishes? And so he waited, and waited, for two months. Two whole months to clear any suspicion on the Blood God’s involvement in anything related to the Admin. He stared at his communicator, sighing uneasily.

Dream fell out of the world.

He read the message again. It made all the sense in the world.

And with that, the entire server gravitated towards the prison not-so-silently. There was no longer any need to wait, only to act and move forward. The rest wouldn’t believe it until they see it for themselves. That the Admin, the menace, the old friend, the rival, the most powerful individual on the server besides the Blood God, the man… Dream was actually, truly dead.

His plan was afoot.

Chapter Text

The first to arrive was, of course, Quackity.

“So let me get this straight.” He said, his tone high in alert, disturbed by his laboured breathing. “You’re telling me that we didn’t kill him? That he just… died? On his own?!” He was practically running behind Sam, who lead him into the prison through whatever backdoors he could find.

“Uh… I don’t really…” Sam said as he fiddled with one switch after another, messing up a few in his urgency. He glanced back at Quackity impatiently. “Look, you’ll see when we get to the main cell.”

Quackity followed, questions and insults pouring out of his mouth, though each and every one of them was dismissed by the warden. By the time they arrived at the final room, Quackity’s voice lowered, though it still kept its annoyed edge.

“Why is it so fucking slow?!” He asked.

“It takes time!” Replied Sam defensively, as he usually did.

The lava lowered and revealed the cell in its entirety. Quackity squinted at it as he jogged towards the platform. There was a person laying on the ground. It was Dream. He laid still in his orange attire, unlike any other time Quackity had seen him. He was laying flat on his back, head obscured and tilted facing the wall opposite them.

“Activate the platform already, Sam! What are you doing?!”

“Get on it first!” Sam said as he pulled the last lever. “Make some room, walk with it!” Sam ran, reaching the platform as a tile dropped behind them in a second. They walked forward as one tile fell behind and another was pulled up in front, allowing them to slowly approach the cell and laying corpse.

As they inched closer, more details were revealed to them. The Admin’s hands were folded on his stomach. His long hair was settled on his chest, reaching as far as his elbows, but it looked more rigid and white than he remembered. He was eerily still, his chest not moving. Quackity could see the smiley mask next to Dream’s motionless body. The mask was always solidly attached to Dream’s face. And as much as he tried removing it during his ‘visits’, it just never came off. Yet there it was, abandoned on the obsidian floor.

Once the platform attached to the cell, Quackity sprinted towards the body.

“What…” He gasped, his heart plummeting in his stomach. Something about Dream’s body was just… Wrong. Very wrong. His skin, which used to be light and scarred, was now completely white as chalk, chipping in some places. Upon closer look, it did looked like he was made of chalk too. His hands, hair, feet, everything was white and cracked as stone. Quackity crouched down next to the body, hesitantly reaching his hand out to touch his forearm. A single poke broke the skin in little pieces, as if he’d buried his finger in dry mud. He snapped it back in shock.

“Why is he... Are you sure this is Dream?!” Quackity stood up and backed away. Sam, who had no doubt seen the body before him, was clenching his fists.

“...There’s no way it could be anyone else.” He huffed, circling the body, his face was shadowed with unease. “Nobody could come in or leave this cell, it’s impossible. And... You saw the message. It has to be him.” The warden stopped on the other side of the Admin’s body, eyebrows furrowing more than they were as he regarded the cracked, solid corpse. Quackity could see something he’d never seen in his friend’s eyes before. A strange emotion that neither of them should be feeling. He couldn’t name it, but it clouded their anger at the Admin.

Quackity followed Sam, peering at Dream’s face on the other side. His face was completely shattered, carved in and spilled out like white sand. Quackity had never seen Dream’s face in his life. And after a few failed tries, he never bothered to remove the mask obscuring it. It was easier to do what he did without a face attached to the Admin. There was no room for sympathy when met with that damned mask. Quackity rubbed his face. He would never get to see it now. Something in him broke at the sight.

“I don’t understand...”

“Yeah.”

’What now?’ A voice within him asked.

“...Maybe Technoblade knows something?” He said, as he inspected the body. There wasn’t a point in doing so, considering the lack of pockets on Dream’s orange clothes. “Contact him, tell him to get his fucking ass in here and we’ll question him.”

Sam sighed. “He hadn’t once been in contact with Dream for two months, Quackity. I don’t think Technoblade would know—“

“I don’t care!” His shout was louder than he expected. Never had the loudness of his voice jarred him before in his life. “Just... Do as I say, Sam. If he doesn’t know anything, then...”

“Then?”

Quackity stood up, pressing his lips thinly.

“Then we contact the others. Funeral or.. Something. Fuck, I don’t know! Dream’s fucking dead, the goddamn admin! Is that even possible?!” His words, which were stifled by his shock, burst out of him, deafening the both of them and their rising emotions. They didn’t expect Dream to die, nobody did. And the feeling wasn’t grief as far as they knew. And why would they grief over a literal monster?

Except he wasn’t a monster. They both had seen him in his rawest, most volatile and fragile moments. And for the past few months, that fragility was turned into a calm confidence that made their efforts seem pointless.

They thought he’d escape. That he would come back and haunt them. And they were both so tired. They were on the verge of giving up, only going on due to how normal it was. A force of habit.

But he didn’t escape. ’Is that why he was confident? Quackity kicked the air. ’Did he know?’

He pulled up his communicator, seeing new messages pull up.

Dream fell out of the world

<BadBoyHalo> o_0

<TommyInnit> WHAT THEFUCK

<Awesamdude> Technoblade u up?

<Technoblade> omw

<TommyInnit> ???????

<Awesamdude> oh ok

<TommyInnit> WHY

<KarlJacobs> kinoko is coming too

<TommyInnit> WE’RE COMING AS WELL

<Ranboo> who’s ‘we’ tommyinnit?

<TommyInnit> ME AND YOUR MOTHER

<Tubbo> i’m not your mother dickhead

<Ranboo> :|

<Philza> no need to shout tommy

<Tommyinnit> PHIL

Quackity stared dumbly at the stream of messages coming in at every second. It seemed like everyone was coming. “Fuck!” He was pacing before he even realised it.

“There’s no point in overthinking this, Big Q.” Sam said, walking back to the platform. His voice was uncharacteristically calm in a way that annoyed Quackity.

“His family, if they still think of him that way, will want his body. After the questioning and some investigation, this matter will be out of our hands. Just be glad that nobody can know about your... activities.” Sam went on the platform, facing Quackity.

“I’ll go wait for them. Just... Don’t touch the body, or do anything stupid.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.”

“Okay... Right.” The platform moved as Sam triggered a button only he knew on the platform. Soon enough, it was only Quackity and Dream, or at least, what remained of him.

Technoblade and Philza were the last to arrive.

The pig and avian hybrids approached the entrance of the prison in comfortable silence. They had already been on their way when Sam had messaged Techno, knowing how far their home in the snow was even with the convenience of fast travel through the Nether. Phil, who didn’t care for Dream as far as Techno knew, was looking as calm and introspective as he usually did. He did not force any conversations or questions, as he most likely wanted by the looks of it. And Techno was grateful for that, because he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. His upcoming task weighed on him considerably. If it was just killing people, he wouldn’t have even worried. Hell, he’d have been looking forward to it. But he knows that unlike his usual tasks he wasn’t meant to hurt, but quite the opposite.

The pig hybrid scratched his face briefly, his hands glazing over his sharp teeth, and reached up to fix his loosening hair tie that kept his raging ponytail in check. He hadn’t brushed his hair in a while, and it showed as it sticked out in weird places, wildly curled and haywire. It reached down to his lower back, or it’d look that way had he not covered it with his red cloak in his hurry to get dressed and going. Phil must have noticed him struggling with his hair, because the next thing Techno felt was a hand pulling his ponytail out of his cloak.

“You could have just said something, mate.” Phil said fondly as he fixed the hair tie. He dropped his hand on Techno’s shoulders, prompting the young hybrid to lower them. He hadn’t even noticed how tense he really was. “God, I could have braided your hair before we left, Techno!”

“There’s no time for that.” Techno stated, meeting Phil’s eyes with a slight smirk. “Besides, I’m never letting you braid my hair ever again. I’ll just end up fucking bald like Wilbur was.”

Phil’s jaw slacked in clear offence. He reached up to smack Techno, and failed. Techno chuckled heavily, fixing up his golden crown and jogging a few steps ahead. He heard Phil catch up behind him. “For the last time, Wilbur’s receding hairline was not my fault, you little shit!”

“Sure Phil. Why don’t you take off your bucket hat and prove it, hmm?”

“You’ve already seen me without my bucket hat!”

“Scaaamm.”

Their conversations were a welcome distraction as they crossed the lengths of the SMP. At least, it was better than listening to Chat’s incessant worrisome chants that were either negative, or made absolutely no sense. It was fairly tame until they reached Pandora’s Vault where angry shouts were echoing the closer they got. It seemed that Karl Jacobs was not kidding when he said Kinoko was coming. Because him, Sapnap and even George were standing there before his eyes. A few others were standing in the prison’s reception hall as well, them being Tommy, Ranboo, Tubbo, Puffy and (for a reason unknown to Techno) Fundy. Others, they found, were just comfortable standing outside of the prison, waiting for whatever verdict to be made for them.

Most of the shouting was made by Sapnap, Tommy and Puffy, who were wailing on the Warden unrestrained.

“Why can’t we just go in?!”

“You can’t keep us out here just because Technoblade isn’t here!”

“He’s not even friends with Dream—“

“Contrary to popular belief, I was friends with Dream.” Techno said, his usual lighthearted tone laced into his words. Everyone in the room quietened and met him with varying levels of anger and uncertainty. “Can’t say the same about any of you, though.”

Sapnap, George and Puffy, as far as Techno saw, were the ones affected by his words the most. Puffy’s face was overcome by what can only be described as regret. George’s lips pressed together in agitation, whereas Sapnap’s face exploded in red rage. He was about to open his mouth when Sam had stepped forward, cutting him off.

“Ah, Techno. Um… Right, let’s get going everyone. Please set your stuff… Never mind.” He saw the toothy smile Techno met him with, a smile that said ’I’m not handing over my shit to you again.’ Techno even made it a point to summon his inventory, and replace his iron armour with enchanted netherite in a flash. Sam and the others regarded him with disbelief.

“…Follow me.” The Warden finally said. Everyone followed, Kinoko first in line, Techno and Phil last.

Unlike the last time he came around, Sam had taken them though what he thought was his own route around the vault. This path was much quicker, seeing as it lacked any unnecessary checkpoint ‘deaths’ and the like. Techno revised his role in his head over and over again, ignoring the whispers and hushed conversations in front of him. Chat helped him through it at least, by repeating his tasks, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. It wasn’t even that complex of a task, but it still made him anxious. He hadn’t even noticed that they’d gotten to the final room until he heard the Warden speak louder than Chat.

“As I’ve explained, Quackity is already there. For those who had never been in the prison, I’m going to lower this lever, which will get rid of this wall of lava and show a platform you guys can get on. For safety reasons, every two people will go at a time. The prison was not made with the intention of many visitors at once so, please be patient.” Sam lowered the lever as he said, familiar whirls and mechanisms echoed around them, and Techno let out a heavy breath.

’One small mistake, and all of this would have been for nothing.’

They ran through the motions of transporting people to the cell. Techno elected to be the last to go, delaying their reckoning as much as he could. First it was Sapnap and George, then it was Karl and Puffy. Following them was Tommy and Tubbo. Philza had offered to go with Ranboo, who looked more nervous than anything else to try and walk along with the platform. And finally, it was Techno and Sam alone in the room.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before we follow them?”

Techno faced the Warden, crossing his arms. He shrugged.

“Great…” Sam huffed, standing closer to Techno. “Why are you here, Technoblade?”

The pig hybrid tilted his head to the side.

“Am I not allowed to check up on one of my best friends, when I see that they’ve died in captivity?” His tone was sarcastic, but there was a hint of truth in it. Of course Techno was going to come either way. Techno would never abandon someone he thought was a friend. His loyalty was hard earned, but it was forever. And the Dream that Techno had known in the cell was worth that loyalty.

“Besides,” Techno added, voice lowering. “I wasn’t going to stay away for much longer anyway. The only reason this prison is still standing, and you two are still alive, is because Dream told me to stay away. So just be glad that you still have a head attached to your neck, even when I know that Dream is now dead.” His subtle smile was brutal, and he knew that it shook the Warden’s resolve. Still, Sam had some iron in him, because he didn’t seem to back down.

“Why would Dream tell you to stay away?” He asked, his voice wavering for a beat. Techno shrugged again.

“Dunno. I’d say ask him yourself, but… Well.” Techno glanced across the lava. He saw Sapnap hunched over the body, his hands hovering but not touching any part of the Admin. The others stood around him, looking lost, and perhaps too shaken to understand the sight. “Can we go now? I need to see him for myself.” He simply stepped towards the platform, not casting Sam another look.

“One more thing—“ Sam said, earning a loud groan from the Blood God. “After you left, Dream was acting a lot more different than he used to. He was calmer… More unaffected by his imprisonment. We have a theory that he might have planned his death in some way… We’re not sure how it ended up like this, but we don’t imagine Dream would just give his last life up just like that.” Sam paused, no doubt weighing his words. Techno listened intently, knowing what his answer would be before the question was even asked. “Was there anything that happened during your imprisonment that would have changed Dream in this way?”

Half a minute of silence passed. Techno snorted. “Do you imagine if there was anything worth telling, that I’d tell it to you, Warden?”

Sam considered it, and pulled down the lever. He ran towards Techno before the platform began to shift. “I’d imagine not.”

Techno hummed. “Glad we see where we stand now.”

Technoblade watched in slow motion as they approached the cell. His eyes zeroed in on the ragged orange clothes. They weren’t as dirty as they where when Techno had visited him for the first time. Techno smiled, because it meant that Dream must have been washing the clothes as he often made him do two months prior.

”Take your clothes off.”

”Excuse me?” Dream’s face was that of pure disgust, and Technoblade rolled his eyes.

”You stink.” He made his way to the Admin, fists clenching his orange shirt. It was the first week into his imprisonment, and Techno was done pretending like the abhorrent smell emitting from his prison buddy wasn’t bothering him. “I could smell it from across the room.”

”Then fucking deal with it.” Dream kicked Techno’s torso, not that it did anything. Months of being trapped in the cell didn’t do his physique any favours. “Get off!”

Technoblade huffed in annoyance. ”You’re either going to take your clothes off and wash them, or I’m going to drown you down the sink. It’s your choice!”

After a few squabbles and a healthy load of insults, Dream began to take his clothes off, pointedly shouting at Technoblade not to look. The pig smiled slyly.

”This is a judge-free environment, Dream. Why’re you so embarrassed?”

”I don't believe that concerns you.”

”Being gay is not a crime—“

”What?!” A potato smacked the back of Techno’s head. Dream must have realised that Techno was joking, prompting him to sag and sigh loudly. “That’s not funny Techno.”

”Kinda was.”

”Kinda wasn’t.”

”Let’s just agree to disagree then!”

”Sure, let’s.”

”Sure.”

”Fine.”

”Fine!” Techno said, louder than necessary. Something else hit his back. It was Dream's clothes. Techno jumped backwards, gasping in dramatic disgust. “Eehhhh, that's so nasty Dream! What sort of civilised man throws their dirty, disgusting laundry at their only friend?!”

”You said you wanted to do my laundry.”

”I said no such thing.”

”Please, Techno…” He said, a smile can be heard from his voice. “I’m still tired from Quackity’s last visit… I’d really appreciate it if you—“

”Only this time, Dream.” Techno said, picking up the clothes in disgust. Dream knew that Techno had not-so-secretly glanced at his scarred bruised body. Guilt-tripping was as effective as anything. “Fuckin’…”

”Did Technoblade just swear?!” Dream exclaimed from the other side.

”Oh, no, chat! I didn’t! Oh God, the Ad Revenue!”

It wasn’t a particularly good memory, as far as Techno knew. They weren’t even friends back then when that happened. And Techno hadn’t even seen the Admin’s soft smile until much later. But it was what he remembered, because since then, Dream was putting in much more effort to make his quality of life better despite the horrid circumstances.

The platform attached to the cell and both him and the Warden stepped out to circle the body. He approached Dream and closed his eyes.

’Well then, friend.' He said silently. ’This is where the story changes.'

Chat supplied him with everything he needed.

' Step 1: Look really sad.’

“Techno? Mate?” Phil said worriedly next to Techno, who had tried his best to show his grief over the man that was no more. Friends grieve for each other, after all. He had to show that. And if Phil bought it, it meant the act was believable.

“Uh, yeah. Heh. He sure is dead.” Techno stood up. Chat was going crazy, most of them telling him that he sucks. No matter. He listened to the few voices that were actually helpful.

’Step 2: Make an excuse to approach the chest.’

“Hey, uh. Did Dream leave anything in his possessions? A will, or something? He used to write fanfiction a lot. I’d imagine he’d have written a will.” He approached the sink as inconspicuously as he could manage.

It didn’t seem to work, as Quackity stood, blocking his path, axe in hand.

“The stuff’s the property of the prison! You’re not allowed to—AH!” Techno shoved the shorter man aside without restraint, pulling out his netherite axe to match.

“Whoa, whoa! Relax guys!” Karl said hurriedly, holding back a fuming Quackity. “This isn’t the time to fight, not around Dream!”

“I’m not going to fight,” Techno said simply. Phil was already by his side. Hands in his robe, no doubt holding a sword just in case. The youngest trio were at a loss, clearly terrified by the prospect of the Blood God fighting. Sapnap hadn’t moved from where he sat next to Dream’s body. He didn’t seem all that responsive, and neither was George.

“But let’s say I was…” Techno continued. “What can you do about it, Quackity? You think you can take me with your weapons now?”

Silence enveloped the cell. Techno resumed his walk towards the sink.

“You need to understand, Quackity, that your illusion of power doesn’t apply outside of the little lies you tell others and yourself.” He chuckled humourlessly. “It doesn’t work in the real world, which is the world in which I exist.”

“Just let it be…” Karl whispered, pulling Quackity away. “Let’s keep talking about what matters now. Dream needs a funeral, and that means transporting him out of the cell…” Karl’s voice carried on and went over Techno’s head. He didn’t really care what was said amongst themselves. The second step was accomplished.

'Step 3: Find Dream'

He pretended to look through the chest, as you’d expect from someone supposedly looking for items. He, however, had his eyes scan the areas around the little furniture in the cell. There were empty books, and Dream’s little stories, which he liked to call ‘fanfiction’ just to ruffle his feathers. Although Quackity’s eyes hadn’t really left Technoblade, the pig hybrid didn’t suppose he could see anything from his cloak. And so he crouched down, inspecting around the chest.

Something small touched him, something soft and warm. He stretched his arms more in the space behind the chest, holding his hands open. The little thing held on to his hand briefly with what he thought were tiny palms. He pulled his hands back. He mustn’t react.

“Did you find something?” Sam said, approaching him.

“No… Just dust. Or I guess, ash.” He laughed, showing his darkened empty hands to the Warden. “I guess he really didn’t leave anything. I don’t see how he would, considering he had no one to leave it for.”

“Not even for you, his best friend?” The Warden regarded him critically, but Techno knew that he only saw the surface of what was going on.

"I suppose so."

The warden didn’t see a small white humanoid body approaching the back of Technoblade’s coat. He couldn’t see the little body climbing Techno’s pants unseen, trying its darndest not to fall. He didn’t register Techno’s short tail, which grasped onto the small body. He didn’t think about Techno’s hands, when they clasped behind his back, holding the small thing in his palms gently. The warden had turned away from him, being called by Quackity and the others. It was time for Dream to finally leave the cell.

And he was doing that in more ways than just one.

“Let’s go, Phil. There’s nothing left for us here.” He said, walking to the platform. He made sure that what he found was safely in his back pocket. It was too small to be noticeable under his cloak anyway. “I offer my condolences to those who need it. But if any of you find themselves in my home or anywhere near ever again, you only have yourselves to blame.”

And with that the pig hybrid, the avian hybrid and their newest roommate were finally out of the prison, never to return again.

Chapter Text

From grassy plains to fields of snow, from bright morning skies to a modest evening glow; the company of two marched back home wearily. Their footsteps were heavy with silence and loud thoughts as they each consumed themselves with their own versions of the day’s events. On the one hand, the younger had just completed his task and was mulling over the various ways in which his life was changing. On the other hand, the older was dragging his feet a few steps behind on their snowy path, worried and out of his depth.

"Techno?" Phil started, worry laced into his tone. The person he had witnessed at that accursed vault was a Technoblade he had not seen before. Techno had said things that spoke volumes of his comically misplaced emotions over the late Admin: The charade that was his friend’s talk about grief of all things did not work on Phil, though he played along for the sake of whatever it was his friend was plotting.

Not to mention his discrete wandering hands that captured something behind the furniture. Phil was sure that the Warden hadn't seen it, but Phil had, and he did only because he understood the manner in which his friend was moving. Techno had taken something from the cell, he was sure of it.

And the part that was most confusing to Phil was that there was no way that Technoblade had come to care for someone like Dream, no matter how long they had spent isolated in those obsidian walls. Phil didn't know much about the late admin, but he knew he was trouble. Technoblade was many things but he wasn't one to seek power for the sake of power. Technoblade had his own set of ideologies and morals that were indisputable in his mind, ones that he could only apply and live in if he had the power to enforce them. And that he did, creating his own personal sphere in which he resides, where only the trusted are welcome, and no foreign force could break through. Even after retiring, Technoblade would not compromise even at the cost of taking life as he pleased. The syndicate stands as a symbol of his ambition to abolish government: a system that he believes brings harm to others. As twisted and downright demented as he could be, Phil truly believed that his friend was ultimately good. He may not be necessarily a force of good, but at the very least he wasn’t one to usurp and take for no valid reason.

Therefore, nothing about Dream, as far as Phil knew, would appeal to Technoblade unless it was for a common goal of some sort. Friendship? Phil couldn’t see it happening. People described Dream as a power-hungry menace that sought destruction and ruin as his method of control. Regardless of whether they were right or wrong, there’s no smoke without fire. Technoblade would never put his trust in anybody unless they unequivocally deserved it.

There has to be more to it. 'Could it be that Techno has the revival book now? But why would Dream give it to him?’

Phil pursed his lips, watching Techno's back as they marched onward. The house was close; they could already see the crows greeting them up on the trees all around them. Phil huffed, and slapped a kind smile onto his face despite Techno not sparing him a glance.

"Mate, you've not gone deaf yet, have you?”

"Heh?" Techno stopped abruptly, turning around to face Phil in an instant. His face was blank, but lined with what Phil thought was fatigue... Or, relief? Phil couldn't tell.

"Sorry, Phil. Must've zoned out. What'd you say?" He replied as he turned around once more, moving with surer feet this time. Phil stared at him for a moment before he followed.

"I said we're almost home. We'll talk over tea at my place. Sounds good?"

"Yeah, sure. I have things to tell you as well, Phil. And I'm sure you have your questions." Techno chuckled, though the sound was empty. It came from another misplaced emotion, one that is yet unknown to Phil.

They reached the house and warmth engulfed them. The fireplace had died out long ago, and Phil quickly made haste to revive it. Darkness tinted the windows black, and they both settled in their respective spots, the tea that Technoblade made in their hands. Phil noticed that his friend had removed both his cloak and dress shirt as Phil accepted his mug, settling on a simple white undershirt. Phil himself had removed his long black cloak in favour of his green robes. Their homely chairs both faced the fireplace close to each other, with stray sparks falling at their feet occasionally. The red hues of the fire danced on Techno’s scarred skin.

Phil watched him for a few moments of peace. Once they drank their tea, Phil made it a point to grap Techno's mug from his hand to place it atop the small table between them.

No more stalling.

“So.” He began, eyes critical. “What the fuck is going on, Techno? I didn’t say anything over there to avoid trouble, but if you have a deal going on with Dream then you’d better-”

Techno sighed loudly, which made Phil pause. His face shot red with annoyance. “Did you just-”

“Phil, I’ll explain. Just…Be chill about it, okay?” Techno moved slightly, adjusting his seating position. Phil didn’t notice that he had something stuffed into his right pocket until he buried his hand into it. 

The avian hybrid shook his head. “This had better be worth wasting my time today, then.” He grumbled.

“Oh, I’m sure it is…” Techno’s voice trailed off, hands clasped together over the object. Phil leaned closer from where he sat, watching the fire reflect on Techno’s hands. “Alright, little guy. Just stay still…” Techno moved one of his hands, holding the other out for Phil to see.

“It’s…Snow? No.” There was a white spherical object in Techno's hand. White as snow, but clearly not so fickle. He noticed sections poking out of the side of the ball, wrapping around itself. “What is this?”

“Uh, hold on.” Techno pursed his lips and poked the white object. It squeaked, causing Phil to widen his eyes in surprise. The object began to vibrate intensely. “Hey, calm down. It’s just me and Phil. Technoblade and Philza, do you understand?” The way Techno was addressing the little ball had Phil worried. It wasn’t until the ball began to unfold, that Phil really understood what he was looking at.

It wasn’t a ball, but a creature, unlike anything Phil had ever seen. It had a small humanoid body, though its circular head was disproportionately bigger than the rest of its pale chubby shape. It looked more like a doll than it did a living thing. It had two dots for eyes and a simple stretched-out line for a mouth. But with the way the little thing was shaking in its place, its neutral expression looked nothing less than weary.

“Hey…” Phil reached out to touch the small creature, one finger gently petting its head. The creature sat in Techno’s palms and closed its eyes, obscuring it with its tiny fingerless palms. Phil couldn’t help the fond smile that formed on his face. It was way too cute.

“Oh dear, don’t be afraid! Nobody is going to hurt you.” He cooed as it calmed down, vibrating less with his little pets. The creature was soft and squishy like dough, as far as he could see. He ran his fingers around its head, removing its arms carefully from its face. Techno stayed silent, preferring to stare at his friend in amusement.

“There you go, little guy. What’s all this fidgeting for, hm?” Phil pinched both its cheeks with his thumb and index fingers, chuckling at the chirp it did in response. Its cheeks were pointedly redder… ‘Is it blushing?!’

“Oh my God, give it to me!” Phil snatched it from Techno’s hand, who only laughed at his enthusiasm heartily. “It’s like a little blob guy! What is it?!”

“Well,” Techno said between chuckles. He couldn’t stop laughing at the absurdity of the situation. He watched Phil place it in his palm, bringing it close to his face. The speed of it made the blob fall over in his palm, making it sit in clear agitation.

“Sorry, little guy!” Phil laughed at the high-pitched grumbles it made. “What were you doing in Technoblade’s pocket, hm?” The blob tilted its head and chirped.

Techno leaned back on his chair and coughed, earning Phil’s attention.

“You know how we went to the prison just now and… Uh, saw Dream’s dead body and everything?”

Phil’s excitement dampened in an instant. He was so curious and excited over the new creature that the subject of their discussion escaped his attention.

“Yes?” He asked, though it was a loaded question. Phil almost didn’t want to know what Techno had to say. The pig hybrid pursed his lips, obviously fighting the urge to laugh again. “What is it, Techno? I’m starting to get tired of asking that.”

Techno laughed. “You and me both.” Silence stretched as Techno schooled his face, returning to his usual blank expression. “Long story short, that body wasn’t Dream. At least, not all of him. That,” he lifted his hand, pointing at the blob. “Is Dream.”

Phil blinked at Techno, incomprehension stilling him.

“This is Dream?” He frowned at the creature in his hand. Small, defenceless, squishy, vulnerable… Nothing he’d describe the admin with. “This is THE Dream?”

“Yes, this is THE Dream.”

“The one that was dead this morning?”

“Yes, the one that was dead this morning.”

Phil pushed the blob towards Techno, who took it and placed it on his armrest. The blob… Dream, sat on it, though his small body trembled once again.

“How is that even possible?”

“It’s… A long story, Phil.”

“You have plenty of time to tell it.”

The sweet sound of Dream’s melodic voice rose over the rumbles of their wall of lava. Techno listened pleasantly as his friend conquered his embarrassment in favour of soothing their endless boredom with music. In times like these, Techno would face their bell, dinging it in a rhythm that somewhat matched the Admin’s improvision.

“Shouldn’t, lie in bed ‘till the afternoon… Dreaming, ‘bout the things that I wanna do… Hm…” His voice faded sweetly. “I kinda like that, actually.”

“Eh, I don’t know if our future band’s that kind of band.” Techno chuckled.

“For the last time, we’re not making a fucking band.” Dream said as he grabbed a notebook from his chest. At some point, Dream would randomly improvise songs out of nowhere. Some of them even sounded like nursery rhymes. And he’d write them all in his lyric notebook. “Dreaming, ‘bout the things…” He whispered as he wrote the new lines down.

“Why not?! Listen—”

“No.”

“But the clout—”

Dream wheezed, the sound making Techno turn to him with a laugh of his own. “D-do you honestly think if we make a band, and sell tickets or wh-whatever, that people will show up?”

Techno clicked his tongue. “Naah, you’re missing the bigger picture here! Why wouldn’t they show up? We’re Technoblade and Dream, and we’re singing. Isn’t that like, a wonder of the world?”

“I think you’re forgetting the part about us being Dream and Technoblade.” Dream shook his head, not without a smile stretching his lips. “That’s just an ambush waiting to happen.”

Techno hummed. “Sure, but you know they can’t take us both.”

“No, they can’t. Which is exactly my point.”

Techno pursed his lips in thought.

“Touché.”

He listened to his friend hum the tune he created again. Laugher broke through a few notes as Techno struggled to keep a good rhythm on his bell.

A period of companionable silence passed over them before Dream spoke again. “Okay, if you promise not to shit on my songwriting skills, maybe we’ll be a band someday.”

“If we’re going to be a band, then you have to be open for constructive criticism, Dream!” He paused. “And you mean when we escape soon; get it, right nerd,” Techno said cheerfully. His smile fell when he heard Dream’s empty laugh.

“You don’t think we’re getting out?”

Dream tilted his head in mock amusement. “Oh, YOU are getting out for sure. You have allies, and you’re not exactly damaged beyond repair. Even if I escape, I don’t think I'd last for very long. I… I’ve been here for a long time, Techno. Just look at me.” Dream walked around the bell, facing Technoblade who did nothing except listen, anger rising in him. The Admin spread his arms wide open, his grin cold as the obsidian they stood upon. “I’m frail, healed up in all the wrong ways possible. I couldn’t survive the wild without assistance, we both know that. Let alone survive a hunt.”

“I’d protect you,” Techno argued. “Nobody can hurt you if you stay with me and Phil!”

“Would Phil accept that?”

“He will if he knows I trust you.”

“Maybe,” the admin said almost softly, had his distaste not edged his tone. He levelled Techno with a tight smile. “I’d rather die than live dependent on someone else forever.”

They stared at each other, various emotions running through them like arrows straight to their hearts. Neither Dream nor Techno considered themselves to be emotionally driven people. They both had ideals, strategies, and goals to follow. And although they felt emotions as deeply as anybody else did, they tended not to express them too often or too well.

So how could they tell each other that this was for the sake of their friendship?

How could Dream express that he didn’t want to be a liability to Techno? This body of his was done for. He didn’t want to be weak and drag him down. How could he say to him that he would surely hurt Techno in some way, or give others the chance to do so? The last thing he wanted to do was lose another friend, another loved one, over his inadequacies.

How could Techno tell Dream that he had already decided on taking him home? That he wasn’t just ‘repaying a favour’, but that his time alone with the Admin made him realise how much he needed a friend similar to him and his passions? How could he tell his stubborn friend that he wanted to help him, heal him, train him to get a semblance of his health and shattered pride back because he simply liked him?

How do they just tell each other the truth of things, without turning it into a joke or silly argument?

They couldn’t. Not then.

Instead, they wallowed in their obscene circumstances. Dream went back to humming, and Techno to dinging his bell. The new melody was far more melancholic than the first. They weren’t men of words, but of actions. And there wasn’t much to be done to prove to each other and themselves the sheer magnitude of their newfound trust in one another.

That is unless someone takes the first step.

“There is a way for me to escape.”

“Huh?”

It was Dream who took the first step. Techno wasn’t going to let that gesture go to waste, not even to Phil. Technoblade is not disloyal to those who earn it.

He pursed his lips, feeling the sharp edge of his teeth against his lips. Phil sat patiently, waiting for him to explain. He’d organised his thoughts (or attempted to) on the way back to the cabin, and he hoped that that was enough to guide his speech. “First of all, I think it’s clear that this is not a human. Are you with me on that one?”

Phil nodded, though his annoyance was obvious.

“Right,” Techno sighed. “Long story short, remember the God we met when we found the green table?”

“Yes?”

“According to Dream, that guy made him." Techno explained. "That’s why they look the same… Made him in his spitting image. Dream's entirely made of enchanted Clay, and this is his original form.”

Phil remained silent, brows furrowing as he absorbed the information given to him. He stared at the small blob in disbelief. “Honestly, the thought that someone like Dream isn’t human doesn’t surprise me.” He huffed. “But what do you mean by ‘they look the same’? We don’t know what Dream looked like.”

“I do.” He said simply, unfazed by Phil’s surprise. “So, I guess you’ll have to trust me on that one, considering his face was shattered after he died.”

“…I guess I do have to.” Phil leaned back on his chair, regarding what remained of Dream worriedly. “How did things end up that way? Was this planned?”

“More or less.” Techno opened his hand next to Dream, who hopped into his palm at ease. Techno leaned back in his chair as he settled the little blob on his lap. “I got most of the details on how it happened, and how he found out about it. A long time ago, before the DreamSMP and everyone on it, he told me about a time… Well, without going into detail, a time where he wanted to end it all.” Techno went quiet, allowing the heaviness of his implications to weigh down on Phil, whose uncertainty dissipated for a moment of understanding.

“It was like waking up covered in your own ashes.” He heard Dream’s voice from before.

“I was small, weak, and had no idea I was such a freak. It made sense, considering my innate abilities. And something in the process made me remember that God that gave us the bell… I don’t think he made me for any particular reason. And thinking about it only cemented further my wish to disappear. I could have ended it right there and then too, but then I thought about it.”

Dream paused, emotion rising in his voice. “I could start over. I could build a place of my own in the world, one where I’d protect and watch over. A place that wouldn’t have trouble, only peace and unity. LauriaSMP was flawed, it had a flawed Kingdom and even more flawed people. It wasn’t a surprise how things ended up now that I think about it. But I’m not like Tam and the others, I could make it work! Or at least, I believed I could. No matter how hard I tried with this SMP, how good or bad I’ve become, people just don’t want peace. They seek conflict. I know now how idealistic I was… How idealistic you are, Technoblade. You want to abolish government, yes? But you can’t abolish what people naturally seek. They want to be controlled and told what to do, only to rebel and make a new body that they can be controlled by. You’ve seen that firsthand, Techno. A society is an ouroboros with insatiable hunger, eating itself indefinitely. My mistake was creating a stage in which this illness festers and letting myself be a part of it. They may have fought against me, but I bet you that they despise the way things are even more than when I was their enemy. Sooner than I thought, it caught up to you, the new enemy.”

His fake laugh resonated within Technoblade. A frown formed on his face. He didn’t like his friend’s tone. “I didn’t take you for a defeatist, Dream.”

Dream snorted. “I’ve been here for a long time, Techno. I had a lot of thinking to do. And you can’t talk to me about being a defeatist, Mr.’I need to fund my retirement'.” He nudged Techno from where he sat with his foot. Techno returned the courtesy, albeit a little harder.

“I’m retiring, but not because I failed. That’s the difference between us.”

“…Perhaps it is.” Dream exhaled loudly. “We’re both retiring, Technoblade. For reasons most suited to our circumstances.”

Techno clicked his tongue, chasing the memory away. He tapped his finger on Dream’s small head. His friend glanced up, chirping. He continued.

“Over time his small ‘blob form’ as he called it, went from small and squishy, to the form we know. At his very core, this small dude was always there. It’s his essence, the starting point. Unless it is destroyed, Dream can never truly die. All he needs to do now is absorb enough magic naturally to the point where he can sit down and create a new vessel for himself. He said he needs at least a whole year to get to where his old body was in one go.”

Phil considered it for a few minutes. The fire cackled, and they listened to it with heavy hearts.

“And that’s what we’re doing? Hiding him for a year, until he can come back?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why?”

It was a valid question, Techno believed. His friend’s genuine confusion wasn’t lost on him. There wasn’t a terribly long explanation as to why he’s doing it, and he wasn’t going to make one up on the spot just to satisfy his friend’s expectations. There was no deeper plan, no scheme. It was quite simple actually. Why did Technoblade agree to something like this? Why did Dream trust his vulnerable self to him in the first place?

“Are we really doing this?” Techno himself had asked once the plan was clear. Some things, no matter how bad they were at expressing themselves, just had to be said.

“Yes, we are.”

“And you trust me to do it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

Techno smiled, a genuine unironic smile that made Phil still in wonder. He was going to give the same answer that Dream had given him back then.

“Because we’re friends, and friends trust each other…”

“…And if we can’t do this now, then it can’t have been real. And our time in that cell was real, Phil. I’m only saying this because he can’t say anything about it yet, and I’ll probably cringe tonight and lose some sleep. But it has to be said. Dream is a part of me, he somehow always have been, and now he always will be. Roommates for life, and all that. Do you accept that?”

“I’m not gonna lie. That’s a lot to take in, mate.” Phil said, though a smile formed on his face at some point. “But if you really feel that way, then I can’t say the contrary. I didn’t think it was possible but, he really did find his way into your heart, didn’t he?”

“Eeh…” Technoblade fake-gagged, earning him a laugh from Phil. “If I had a heart, yes.”

“Oh, you do, y’big doof!” Phil pulled his friend into a fierce hug, only pausing due to the sound of something falling on the carpet. “Oops, sorry Dream!” Angry chirps escaped the small admin as he jumped up and down in agitation. The two hybrids laughed.

“Can he understand us?” Phil asked as he picked Dream up gently.

“Yeah. He said to wait a month before he can talk. From what I know, he’s gonna use the magic he got to conjure up a psychic connection, or something. I don't know, anything's possible now that God is real eh? And then life’s gonna be a little easier on us I reckon. He’ll tank the magic for the remaining time, so he could just transform into an adult next year. Simple enough, right?”

“Yeah…” Phil hummed. “Simple enough.”

They both had the sneaking suspicion that nothing about Dream was going to be “simple enough.”

Chapter Text

The first two weeks of their newest arrangements had passed unnoticeably, with uneventful days crossed out on Phil’s calendar faster than the blink of an eye. Not much had changed since their visit to the prison. Dream spent most of his time sleeping in their pockets, or somewhere else under their keen watchful eyes. And because Technoblade did most of the watching, Dream in his weakened state brought out a caring side from within his friend, tested by the constant need to check on his state (and perhaps poke at his nerves).

On slow days like this one, Technoblade would be lounging on his chair by the fireplace, a romantic novel resting in his hands and a cosy knitted red shawl draped over his shoulders. After all, Techno’s ideal way to recover from a long day of farming was tea and some light reading, that is if destroying his enemies was already not an option. (Not a single person visited his cabin after his threatening remarks. He almost wished for them to show up anyway.) This daily activity was one of the few things that united Chat into a focused wave, swishing at the currents of the stories that he read.

Technoblade could feel an uncharacteristic warmth emitting from under his waist as his small friend’s eyes squinted shut, diving deeper into slumber. Techno had subconsciously taken care to wear looser pants with deeper pockets just for the purpose of keeping Dream always by his side, though they tended to be not as fashionable as his usual well-fitted dress pants. ‘It’s not like I’m going to have visitors anytime soon,’ he reasoned with himself. Techno wasn’t a particularly vain person, but he had standards (as he once told Dream a week ago, at which the small blob angrily growled at him).

The warmth Techno felt wasn’t real, simply… A sensation that touched something metaphysical in him. It was the same spark that spread through the air whenever he enchanted an item or used an ender pearl. Buzzing through his veins and the air alike, that sensation was distinct and yet, indescribable. But unlike the abruptness of those experiences this feeling was steady, circulated in a rhythm that extended far beyond the point of origin. Sometimes this rhythmic wave filled the entire Livingroom in a hazy excitable cloud, enough that the crows around his house notified Phil to check if nothing was amiss. Techno would be mentally distant, vaguely half-listening, or paying him no mind at all.

It became a habit of sorts to sit down by the fire with Dream resting in his pocket. He would read his stories out loud or simply close his eyes to focus on the peculiar flow of energy. Sometimes he’d pull his friend out, just to hold the fragile body in his palms and feel its energy course through his veins. Something in the act of shared tranquillity would make him and Chat feel at peace, as if he was sharing something of his own self with Dream. And if the low humming noises he heard from Dream were any indication, he’d say the feeling was mutual. Other times his friend would be wide awake, and they would sit there comfortably, their silence forced through the admin’s inability to speak, but it wasn’t an unwelcome silence either. And many times, Technoblade would be talking his head off about one thing or the other, and Dream would occasionally squeak and rumble in response, both drunk in the ambiance of whatever the fuck is happening in Dream’s body.

Two monotonous, strangely high weeks into the future made him understand that this feeling was Dream’s magic, and whatever he felt within him was probably his own magic as well. He could never tangibly sense it, except when enchanting things and the like. But Dream’s odd methods seemed to bring it out of Techno. It was therapeutic… Almost addicting.

And that is why, as the mere thought of this brewing addiction caught up to him, Technoblade placed his book aside. ‘This isn’t good for me.’ He thought, and he said as much to Phil who was checking his potion inventory records in his study.

“You know what you need, Techno? I think you need to go out on an adventure.” The blonde said curtly, not sparing his friend a glance as he wrote a list of what he needed to trade in a nearby village.

 “And go where, Phil?” Techno sighed dramatically. “I’m rich with every conceivable item.”

“It’s not just about getting rich, Techno. Go outside of the SMP or something.” Phil rolled his eyes. “The last place you’ve been to was EarthSMP for god’s sake! Plus, it’s been a while since Dream had gone outside. Why don’t you go out on a date together, hm?”

“I don’t appreciate the way you phrased that, Philza Minecraft.” Techno said, disgust edging his tone. “But I guess I could take him on a walk… Like a dog.” He paused, his tone softening. “To be honest, he’s been sleeping all day every day and I have no idea if that’s a good thing or not.”

“Aw,” Phil chuckled. “Are you worried about the little white booger?”

Techno snorted, he appeared mighty offended, which made Phil laugh even more. The pig hybrid shook his head. “Am I not allowed to be slightly concerned about one of my friends—”

“—Oh my god, you ARE worried! That’s so—”

“—I’m not—”

“—That you’d care so much—”

“—No, I really don’t care—”

“—Ah he could do with a little fresh air though, right? I’m kind of busy with my own shit at the moment, Techno. And we agreed that since you’re the one that agreed to the whole thing, that you’d be the one responsible for him. So, go on then!” Phil finished, waving Techno off rather rudely.

Techno pursed his lips, hands in his pockets. “Fine, old man. I see how it is.” He said as he fished out the blob man himself on his way out of the room. Phil shrugged, getting back to his task with a smug smile on his face.

“Don’t call me up here when you need help gatherin’ resources, then!” Techno shouted.

“I think you’re mistaking how our dynamic works, Technoblade!” Phil paused. “AND I’M NOT AN OLD MAN!”

“Hear that, Dream?” Techno said as he exited Phil’s study. He pulled up his palm close to his face, where he watched the small creature look at him through slitted beady eyes. “Poor guy is in denial!” Dream produced a sound so pathetic, it brought him back to his original concern. ‘Yup, this dude needs some action. We both do.’

“We’re going out. You need to stop being a lazy freeloader and earn your keep! And I think your sailor moon powers are doing something to my head. I’m not about to get out of shape because of you! So, we’re going to, uhm…” He raked through his mind for any activity they could do together. What could Techno possibly need? He had diamonds, wither skulls, unobtainable end rod, countless totems of undying… What could he possibly want?

“You know what? A little wandering never hurt anyone.” He said aloud. Dream tilted his head questioningly at Techno, who met him with a toothy grin. “There’s territory right outside of your SMP’s border that’s completely unmapped. It’s not too far from here actually, about a couple days away on foot since our house is near the edges anyway. Who knows, perhaps we’d find something new there. Whaddya think?”

The small blob chirped in what Techno interpreted as excitement. Dream still seemed a little groggy from sleep, but his smile did stretch further than usual.

“Been that bored, huh?” A chirp sounded. “Me too, me too. When you spend so long farming potatoes all day, you start feelin’ a little blood thirsty, right?” The blob shook its head. Techno could almost hear Dream’s signature ‘What?!’ That he’d heard so many times before. He grinned, genuinely.

He began to sort his items and ready himself for their long voyage. Techno didn’t suppose they’d be back for at least a couple of months, if they wanted to do any decent explorations of the area. Who knows? They might stumble upon one or two SMPs with fresh governments to dismantle and/or destroy. The very idea of it sent an excited thrill into his bones. New place, new people. And wouldn’t it be perfect for Dream to hide and grow anywhere other than this place?

His task was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. So gentle, that he would have missed it from his room, had it not been for his superior hearing. Dream was sitting on his desk, watching Techno collect his things in nothing short of disinterest. He seemed to have heard the knock too, because he took the library of freaking out as if someone had broken into the house.

“Hey, relax, will you?” He said, grabbing a panicking Dream, and shoving him in his pocket where he’s concealed by his long red shawl. The thought of leaving Dream alone in the room admittedly made him feel uneasy. “Please. You’re way too much of a hypochondriac, Dream. You’re perfectly safe with me. My reputation depends on it!” He felt Dream fidgeting with reckless abandon in his pocket. Maybe he shouldn’t have shoved him in so hard, but he can’t be expected to always be delicate about it. He reasoned, with a notably malicious smirk on his face.

“One moment!” Techno shouted as he approached the increasingly impatient knocks. “Niki.” He nodded at her as he opened the door, noticing her weak smile and baggy eyes.

“To what do I owe this visit?”

“Actually, I was here to check if you guys were alright!” She said in mock-cheer. Something about her tone told him she wasn’t telling the truth. “I hadn’t seen you and Phil since… Well, since the funeral. I hope I didn’t interrupt something important?”

“Oh, no, do come in.” Techno stepped aside, directing her into the living room. “We’ve both been good. Days are slow so it’s been dull. I just began packing for travel to remedy that, but it will take a while to sort out my inventory.”

“Really? Back on the grind already?” She asked curiously.

“Nah. Just roleplaying as Dora the Explorer for a bit.” Techno said. Niki chuckled politely, clearly not feeling up for humour. Their shared silence was interrupted by a distinct loud squeak.

Loud enough for Niki to smile confusedly.

‘Did he laugh?’ Techno pulled up the fakest smile he could muster. ‘I know I’m hilarious, but this is not the time!’

 “What was that noise?” She asked once it was clear he wasn’t saying anything. Technoblade tilted his head.

“What noise?”

“The one that… Um—The squeaking noise?”

He hummed. “I didn’t hear a noise.” He poked his pocket, hoping Dream gets the message. “Though this house ids kinda beaten down by the rough weather. Sometimes you hear noises, sometimes things fall and break. You get used to it.”

She didn’t look convinced by his explanation, but she didn’t push further. He took her silence as a window to end the obligatory round of small talk.

“So, what brings you here?” He asked, his tone mild. Though he guessed his meaning of ‘get to the point already’ did reach her. She sighed.

“I’ve been living peacefully in Kinoko Kingdom, Techno. I’m sure you know that already. But as things are, the climate in Kinoko… No, the entire server, is just… off.” She said, her voice unsure, hands fidgeting.

“Ever since Dream’s death, there seems to be a lot of anger between Kinoko and Las Nevadas. George blames his death on Quackity and Sam’s negligence and demands answers as to why they weren’t allowed to visit before, and a bunch of other unclear things around the prison itself. Sapnap and Karl don’t seem to be doing much other than stop George from making a war declaration. I’ve seen George a couple of times before Dream’s death but… He’d never been this present and rageful before! Quackity is disassociating himself from the prison, saying he had nothing to do with anything, but the fact that he was in there first is sus… A lot of things are put in question, and I don’t know.” She shook her head, worry dancing in her eyes.

“There’s a lot of anger and not a lot of effort to make things work. It’s terrible! I thought Dream’s death was supposed to be a good thing, not be a—a precursor to war!”

“Okay…” Technoblade said slowly. “And what do I have to do with it?”

Niki stared at him, eyes wide as if she was looking at him properly for the first time that day. His face was a deliberate mix of both disinterest and boredom. Understandably so, because the last thing he wanted to hear was how governments are once again planning to start a war again.

“We’re the syndicate…” She said, her tone lower. “Shouldn’t we do something to calm the waters?”

“Perhaps.” Technoblade rubbed his face with his palms. This is what he wanted, right? A change of routine? And it falls within their jurisdiction to police the idiots on the SMP should they go too far in their pursuit of power. But something about the conflict sounded… “Niki, don’t you think this conflict is a little personal?” He said calmly. “Of course, most conflicts if not all were personal thus far, even when they included military campaigns. But it seems like this time the conflict can be solved with some communication. This is grief, people trying to understand why a loved one has been killed and getting no real answers. The water is muddied in a way I can’t change.”

“Then, do we give up?” She said helplessly. He smiled, shaking his head.

“No, of course not. I do agree that the syndicate should get involved. However, that doesn’t mean I’m the one to do it. If you want my input, I think you’re the perfect person for the job.” He nodded at her surprised expression.

“Me?! But—”

“You are a people’s person, Niki. They trust you enough to include you in their peaceful abode, even though you, just like the rest of us, had done your fair share of killing, griefing and betrayal.” He stood up, approaching her. He knelt and settled his hand on hers. “They don’t need a warrior to come and incite war, they need an objective ambassador, and in my opinion… You’re an excellent negotiator.”

Her eyes were uncertain, but a smile touched her lips.

“What if they tell me that it has nothing to do with me?”

“You’re a concerned citizen fearing war on the horizon, of course it has something to do with you. On the other hand, it really has nothing do to with me.” She chuckled briefly with him.

“But… It’s not unknown that I disliked Dream. They might get angry…”

“Firstly, your personal feelings towards the homeless Teletubby have nothing to do with the fact that his death should not spark war. And secondly, when it comes to the method of opposing the government, there is not one single way. Violence is perhaps the most effective method, but as we both had seen, it’s not a permanent solution if the people that were hurt are still alive. And I don’t suppose you came here to request regicide, correct?” He asked rhetorically, at which she shook her head with a wide grin on her face. He continued. “Maybe some kindness would go where my axe couldn’t, and I’m not about to change my ways for anybody. You see where I’m going with this?”

“I think I do.” She stood up; her body language changed into something more confident. “I’ll talk to them, and hopefully they listen. Thank you so much, Techno! I wish you luck on your journey!”

“No problem, Niki. And if push comes to shove, ask Phil to send one of his crows to find me. Wherever I’ll be, I’ll come running.” Technoblade saw her out, exchanging a few goodbyes and good lucks on the way.

Once the door was closed, chirping burst out from under his shawl. ‘Right.’ He thought, picking Dream up once again.

“You know, you almost screwed us by squeaking like that. I know I’m a comedy genius, but you totally threw!”

Dream growled and stomped his feet on Techno’s palm. It felt like a marshmallow was trying to hit him, and it made him burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, you could have saved yourself the humiliation by letting me blow up the prison. Instead, you just had to go all tragic death on me. Serves ya right. I’m calling you Marshmallow from now on. I’d like to see you stop me!”

Dream had never looked more furious than he did in that moment. He extended his small arms towards Techno’s thump. “What, you’re gonna bite me? Just so you know, I don’t imagine marshmallows can do any damage—”

Dream bit his thumb.

Suddenly, the world started spinning.

“Whoa, what the—” Techno staggered and dropped on his knees, causing Dream to fall and roll a few times across the floor. He suddenly felt the energy drained from him completely, more tired than he was from farming. “What the hell… Did you just steal my magic?!” He breathed out heavily, getting his senses back from the brief imbalance. Dream approached him, wobbling step by stap until he reached a point right under Technoblade’s nose.

He stuck his tongue out at Techno. The pig hybrid didn’t even know he HAD a tongue. He probably doesn’t, him being the magic clay ball that he is. Techno felt his face heat up in anger. “Okay, that’s it, we’re gaming. We’re gaming, chat!”

And thus began the most disorienting chase he ever had the displeasure of doing. Dream was faster than he thought, and he was so tired. He might have fallen flat on his face a couple of times, which only ignited further his need for revenge. Oh, he was going to make Dream pay for this, whatever the cost. ‘Once I get my hands on this little booger!’

(It was too late. Phil wouldn’t let him.)

With that, they went back to their task of packing and brooding (though Dream did most of the brooding.) They wouldn’t leave until three days later, when Technoblade made sure to have everything they needed nicely organised. It helped that Dream seemed to have his own inventory space, which meant Technoblade had access to his own, his Enderchest, Dream’s inventory and his own Enderchest as well. Everything fit in neat sections, with plenty of room for more loot should they come across anything of interest. With Technoblade’s netherite set, and a backup set hidden in Dream’s inventory, the pair were set for adventure.

Between exciting new horizons opening up before them, and old ones caught in twilight, the story splits amid new dangers and old ones alike…

Chapter Text

Three days passed with Dream and Technoblade crossing snowy field after snowy field, slowly inching towards the DreamSMP border with every step they took. They didn’t take any of their horses with them on the journey, knowing that whatever lay beyond the barrier was more perilous than what the poor animals could handle.

“Here we are, Marshmallow!” Said the pig hybrid, poking the breast pocket on his crimson cloak that housed his companion. Dream pushed his head out of his cosy sanctuary, blinking to clear his bleary vision. The sun was high above their heads, reflecting the ocean of white all around them. The air was biting, its sub-zero fangs digging into their skin all the same.

“We’re here, see?” Techno pointed at what technically was the end of the world.

The barrier was a force field made of magic, separating SMPs from each other and from what lay in between. It was seamless when observed from afar, but up close they could see what the barrier truly looked like: An endless mirror stretching in all directions, reflecting the entire world and their own image back to them. The only entities that could pass through were humans and lesser mobs; anything bigger or more dangerous than a Wither would be safely kept out. And as Technoblade and Dream gazed at their reflections, notions of going back almost crossed their minds.

Almost.

Technoblade cleared his throat, poking his pocket again. Dream squeaked, with a tone that Technoblade had come to recognise as annoyance . “Well, there’s nothing more adventurous than leaving the SMP. And it’s not like we don’t know what to expect. So hold fast! The human-GPS won’t let you down!” Technoblade said, his nerves jittering excitedly and forebodingly. He knew that Dream wasn’t scared, could feel that through the nuances of magic flowing through him. Technoblade couldn’t stop himself from voicing out his reassurances nonetheless, because a part of it really was to calm himself down. He needed to maintain his calm and not blind himself with excitement, lest that be their undoing.

Everyone in the world had been outside of an SMP once or twice in their lives, and the experience was one they all liked to avoid. After all, most of them had been in fact somewhere else before Dream and that God made this place. Whether it’s an admin dying without a successor, negating the SMP's natural borders; a civil war, pushing people to run blindly out in search of more peaceful SMPs; or simply SMP wars that were much worse in their scale of ruin… Most people on the DreamSMP were the first generation to ever live in it. They were defectors or refugees who miraculously found their way here in their hour of need.

Even if Dream perceived his work as a failure, Technoblade knew that such a perception wasn’t entirely true. The DreamSMP was still in better shape than so many other places he’d been to before. The real problem of this place was how young everybody was, even Dream for that matter. Do they even remember their times in older SMPs, or was it just a distant thought now? Technoblade doubted that they knew Dream’s importance in the larger scheme of things. Hell, even he didn’t know before, compared to the excruciating detail that he does now, and he remembers his time in other SMPs quite clearly. Besides Dream, himself, Phil, Wilbur, and Schlatt… Who else was old enough to remember?

‘Nobody.’ He realised. ‘And two of the list are already dead.’

Technoblade extended his arm, his harsh scarred hands reaching towards the barrier. He poked at it, watching as a ripple went out from where he touched. Dream wiggled in his breast pocket restlessly, chirping as if in a hurry.

Just as he was about to move forward, he felt a hand firmly grab his shoulder. Techno stood still as a statue. He hadn’t heard anyone approach him from behind, but there clearly was a hand digging its fingers into his cloak. His instincts refused fighting back as a viable option.

“ What do we have here, hmm? ” A voice spoke, but it wasn’t real… An echo in his mind.

“ It’s okay, Piglet. ” The voice said harshly. A deep, distorted voice. He could feel Dream fidgeting in his pocket nervously. “ Turn around. ”

He did, because what else would he do? Disagree with the scary voice that set every piglin instinct of his on fire? When he turned around, a familiar face met him with a half-smile.

“Oh… God, you scared me!” Technoblade said, laughing nervously. “I don’t think I’ve heard you speak before.”

DreamXD stared at him, his expression unchanging. He adorned the same get-up he’d seen before: A flowing dark green robe, threaded with golden designs across its length. His bare legs and lack of shoes would have not made much sense in these sub-zero temperatures, however, Technoblade had to remind himself that the being in front of him wasn’t a man.

That is if the floating wasn’t enough of a reminder.

The hem of his robe hung low on his broad shoulders, and his hood was off, revealing golden locks that stopped around his ears, reaching the same length Dream’s hair was before his imprisonment. Crowning it all were two crossing circles of gold floating inches away from his face, and emerald eyes he knew were identical to Dream’s.

“ Well, now you have. Say, ” XD said, tone almost whimsical. “Where do you two think you’re going?”

Dream chirped in his pockets, which garnered XD’s attention. The god’s grin spread wider in response.

“Outside, for an ‘adventure’? Why, is my SMP not adventurous enough for you, Clay?” Techno raised an eyebrow at him, surprised that the god could understand Dream at all. It made sense in retrospect, as XD spoke directly into their minds.

A barrage of angry chirping ensued, causing XD to burst out laughing. It was probably the evilest laugh Techno had had the misfortune of hearing, and he’d heard Schlatt’s laugh a million times. Maybe it was the distortion in XD’s voice that made his skin crawl or the fact that the sound was echoing in his brain instead of his ears. Either case, it was evil.

“Alright, alright. I’m just pulling your leg, son.” XD stated, waving Dream’s unintelligible complaints off.

“Son?” Technoblade asked curiously. He knew already that DreamXD was Dream’s literal creator, but the term of endearment wasn’t something he expected. “I didn’t know you two had that sort of relationship.”

“We don’t,” XD stated, pointing at his friend. “But he hates the notion. It’s just a bit of trolling!” And true enough, he’d never seen his blob friend so angry and red, flailing his small arms rigorously. Techno poked his pocket again, attempting to calm him down. At least XD didn’t sound terribly offended.

Dream stopped his flailing and grabbed onto Techno’s finger, his annoyance shifting to his friend instead of the God. In moments like these, Techno learned that focusing some of his magic into his hands to let the blob absorb it was one of the things that brought him comfort, even if it drained a finger’s worth of Techno’s energy. The pig hybrid never thought manipulating his flow of energy was even possible, so it seemed like he benefited from their niche arrangement in ways he could never have anticipated.

Dream’s waning half-smile brightened into something more genuine. Techno chuckled in exasperation. Was he comforting his friend, or did he seek comfort himself?

He heard XD hum deeply. Techno raised his head to look upon their unwanted company. The Blood God wasn’t about to antagonise the actual God of the server, but if anyone thinks they can mess with his friends, he wouldn’t back down either way.

XD must have seen the challenge in his gaze, or straight-up read his thoughts. His expression lost some of its amusement. Smile not quite reaching his eyes. “How about we make a deal, hmm? You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

XD lowered himself into the ground, now standing at eye level with Techno. Dream was quiet, but his annoyance simmered, disturbing his magic aura to the point where it affected Techno’s own mood.  “Now, now… This isn’t a trick. There’s been this issue I’ve been meaning to… fix. But it’s much more fun if I had you two do it for me. And by fun, I mean I don’t want to have to think about it. In return, I will grant you two another wish!”

Before Techno could respond, Dream began chirping animatedly. XD’s eyes were glued to him, and he laughed.

“Wait, what’s he saying?” Techno said nervously, getting unnerved when XD’s laugh turned into a coughing wheeze.

“ It seems like your friend already had a wish in mind. ” He said between chuckles. “ Is that your decision? ”

“We need to discuss this first!” Techno said pointedly at Dream, ignoring XD. He realised there was no way they can actually discuss anything. ‘ Curse Dream’s stupid Marshmellow form! ’

“ Ooohh, he says you made a wish without his consent last time, a wish that cost him a lot, and he should now get a wish without your consent. I think that’s kinda fair. ” Technoblade pursed his lips. ‘ That does sound fair. ’ He had to stop cringing at Chat spamming in favour of Dream. When did they become such simps for the guy?!

“Fine. But you’d better wish for your body back or something because I’m sick of you already.” Techno said, his little friend pulling out his tongue in clear defiance.

“ Oh no, I will not make that wish come true, boys, ” XD said simply. Techno glared at him. Dream growled, which wasn’t as intimidating as he probably imagined.

“And why not?”

“ Because it wouldn’t be fun. ”

“You–” Technoblade had to stop himself from cursing. “We won’t do you any favours without a wish, you know that, right?”

“ I do know that. But to give Dream his body back would be to give up on a LOT of magic. My powers may be infinite, but dishing them out at once is tiring. I’m already using up a significant amount to talk to you both at once. I will not grant you a wish that’s troublesome to do. But look, ” XD paused, no doubt sensing their disappointment. “ I can give you some magic that’ll help you loads. ”

XD raised his arms, cupping them between Techno and himself. Techno felt something sizzle in the air… It was the flow of energy all around him, concentrating on the top of XD’s palms. A ball of blinding white suspended upon his hands, causing the mortal pair to stare in awe. “ This energy–It is enough to conjure up a mental connection between the two of you… If he uses it right. ”

“You mean we could talk like this, in our heads, like you do?” Techno asked crimson eyes fixed on the ball of pure magic in front of him. The offer was good, life would be a lot easier if he could directly talk to Dream. Even better if the method didn’t involve actual speech.

“But what’s the catch? If you’re going as far as to show us the magic… It can’t be something easy.”

In an instant, the magic ball was extinguished. XD lowered his hands. “ There’s trouble brewing outside of this SMP. And… Well, I don’t want to deal with it. When the time comes, there’s gonna be unwanted visitors that try to break into the End. And I’m sure you’re both aware I can’t have that happening. I could kill them all instantly but… ” XD giggled. “ Now what kind of story would that be? ”

“Right…” Techno said after a moment’s consideration. There really weren’t many reasons for them to say no, especially now that they technically had something to do. Wasn’t this what they wanted, an adventure? Techno had a hunch that the request had more to it than just someone ‘intruding’ into the god’s realm, but by the look on Dream’s face…

“I guess if the only thing you want from us was to kill a bunch of intruders, I don’t see why not. What do you think, Marshmallow?” Dream squeaked, nodding his small head. He held out his arms, a pathetic one and a half inches in length, and XD reached out to hold them with his index finger.

“ Remember: If you don’t hold your end of the bargain… There will be hell to pay. ” XD said casually, and light was created in his finger. Techno watched in wonder as a small dot of magic appeared between Dream’s arms, much smaller than the one XD conjured up earlier, but it was much brighter in its intensity. Dream opened his mouth wide open, devouring the sphere in a single gulp.

“ I’ll leave you to it, then. ” The god said, leveling them both with keen eyes. “ I’ll be watching, so don’t you two disappoint me! ”

And with that, DreamXD was gone.

There was nothing stopping them now from venturing into the unknown. Besides, of course, the promise of intruders. At the back of his mind, Technoblade could formulate plans to investigate their newest quest, ways to find the intruders before they found them. However, the thought that occupied the forefront of his mind was nothing else than this:

“Hey, Dream… Are you alright?”

His friend looked up to him, a smile stretching pleasantly. Then Techno heard it, a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time echoed in his mind.

“ I know I will be. ”

Chapter Text

It was a month prior to their grand escape. A time of hurt and very little healing. Their friendship was still fragile, built on odd moments of understanding, bad arguments, and the compulsion of private company. Dream and Technoblade sat on opposite sides of the seven-by-seven obsidian box that encapsulated their current reality. This day was what they both called a bad day, even considering their absurd circumstances.

They had an argument. Or a series of small arguments that blew into a deafening stubborn silence.

It was kind of stupid, Dream thought in retrospect. Something about not throwing potatoes into the lava, something about respecting the privacy of empty diaries. Once the arguments began, there was no stopping them. Neither were allowed to simply give in and apologise, even if they both were in the wrong. Public image was important, even if it was in a place no one could see them.

‘…Right?’ Dream thought.

He stood up, making his way towards the sink. They had no mirror, but he could open the tab and let the sink fill to the brim with water. They never ran out anyway, and it always turned off the moment the water level reached a red line slightly under the edge. Dream chuckled humourlessly; incredible engineering skills make this prison, so this little detail should be of no surprise. This was what his money bought him.

“What’re you doing?” He heard Techno say, though Dream didn’t turn around to face him. He watched in silence as the water slowly filled and revealed his face.

“I asked you a question.” Techno stressed, voice impatient.

“Why do you care?” Dream rolled his eyes. The water stopped.

“I don’t, but Sam might. And we don’t need you raising the water bill and making him mad.” His words went in one ear and out the next. Dream stared at his reflection with rising disgust.

‘Pride? Public image?’ He chuckled aloud as he thought. ‘I look pathetic anyway.’

“Hey!” Techno yanked his shoulder. Dream had a feeling that his roommate had called him a few times, but he didn’t really pay attention. He grabbed onto the sink, balancing himself. Something in Techno’s annoyed expression softened, and he removed his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He huffed in frustration. “Ignoring me is not gonna help anything, Dream. That’s just rude!”

Dream pushed past him, re-establishing the safe distance that was between them. Techno approached him, and Dream kept walking as far away as he could. That always happened when they were arguing. Techno always tried to close the distance between them, Dream always tried to run away. Running in circles wasn’t all that uncommon.

They both hated it.

“Oh, so sorry for being rude.” Dream said, as he circled the cell with an angry pig hybrid at his tail. “I wouldn’t want to sound like that. Apologies, good sir.” Sarcasm dripped from his mouth like venom. He knew he shouldn’t talk like that to his only escape (and only friend he probably had), but he couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t stop now. It’s probably been hours since they first began, and it was the same spiral of them saying worse and worse things, until one of them had the sense to stop.

“We need to work on your social skills, man.” Techno replied. Dream internally agreed. “Can you stop walking? We need to talk!”

Dream shook his head. “You can hear me no matter where I stand in this fucking cell. And I’ll stop walking when you stop trying to get into my personal space, dickhead!”

“Whoa, that’s not very—”

“Nice?” Dream interrupted, scoffing. “Yeah, yeah that’s kinda the point, Pig.”

Technoblade stopped, eyebrows furrowed (more so than usual). He crossed his arms together and leaned against the obsidian wall facing Dream and the lava. “Dream, I never considered us to be enemies. In fact, and believe that I say this with great difficulty… I-I genuinely started to think we were a bit more than old business partners. But if throwing that away is what you’re trying to accomplish, I wouldn’t mind kicking you into the lava to have the peace of mind I desperately need. Is that what you want?”

Dream wasn’t facing him as he spoke, but Techno somehow knew it wasn’t the correct thing to ask. Dream had had suicidal tendencies that neither of them wished to comment on nor explore. “I ask that very figuratively, by the way.” He clarified. Dream finally turned around to face him, face clouded with uncertainty.

“…No, that’s not what I want.” He said, voice small. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

Techno smiled briefly. “Well, me neither.”

“Didn’t you want to talk?” Dream raised his eyebrow at Techno’s brief shrug.

“I do. I think we should talk, instead of sitting in two corners of the world brooding all day. I snooped into your diary. I’m…” Techno exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have looked without your permission. Even if you were over-reacting like, seriously—Um, well. An apology shouldn’t have excuses.”

Dream was quiet for a beat. Techno used that as an opportunity to approach him. He wasn’t the type to cuddle, or to touch people in general, but the distance never felt right.

“I’m sorry I threw the potatoes. I was angry… It’s the only thing I had that I could throw. I didn’t mean to lower our supplies… Just wasn’t thinking. And you were an ass. Hm, but you’re right, an apology shouldn’t have excuses.” Dream said, eyeing Techno as he approached. Techno grabbed him by the forearm, pulling him away from the lava.

“Fair, if unnecessarily charged.” They side-eyed each other, grinning despite themselves. “It’s hard to think in here sometimes, I get it. I don’t relate, not at all, but I get not everyone is—okay, chat, shut up, that’s not fair.” They sat on the wall across. Techno grunted, interrupting himself. “Look, I’m not about to cuddle you or anything… Uh,” he paused again. “I don’t know where I was going with that, heh.”

“I wouldn’t cuddle with you either, idiot.” Dream said between weak laughs. Techno’s nonsense tangents grew on him quite a bit, and him forgetting his point was both hilarious and painfully relatable.

They sat slumped against the wall, not too far, not close enough. Techno glanced mutely at Dream, eyes narrowing.

“What were you doing with the sink over there?”

Dream sighed. Techno’s monotone voice was a blessing at times. The last thing he wanted to hear was pity in someone’s tone.

“Admiring my fucked-up face.” He rubbed his forehead with his right hand. “I don’t know… I just needed a reminder.”

“That you’re not the rugged handsome dumb blonde you used to be?” Techno joked. Dream chuckled in response.

“That there’s no real reason to pretend anymore. Not with you, anyway.”

Silence draped over their shoulders, comforting, soothing their anger towards each other. At the end of the day, it wasn’t the fact that they wronged each other that ticked them off, it was their sour attitude. Dream was sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and hurtful when he wanted to be. Techno could be a stone so cold; one would think he had little soul left in him. They were easy rivals, and friendship required a certain level of mutual sacrifice.

“Maybe we’re not meant to be friends.” Dream mumbled without thinking.

Techno exhaled loudly. “Maybe not.” He dropped his hand in the space between them, and stared at Dream pointedly. “But we are anyway.”

Dream smiled, something genuine, and maybe a little embarrassed. His hand found its way to Techno’s, squeezing it quickly, before he pulled away.

“Yeah, we are anyway.”

Chapter Text

A step, or maybe two. The fabric of their world rippled as they passed through, nerves jittering. Techno gripped his sword. It wasn’t the first time that either of them had been to the realm between SMPs, and the reasons for their current visit seemed to make less and less sense with every moment spent in this realm.

“Hey, Dream? What the hell did we come here for, again?” He asked. Gone was the endless white of snowy fields. This was a vast grey desert, a barren land, with grey clear skies and a particular absence of all manner of creatures. However, they’d be naive to think that the realm was as empty as it seemed.

“It was your idea. Adventure, or whatever.” Dream answered unhelpfully, his tone laced with an echoing quality, as his voice sounded directly in Techno’s mind. “This is one hundred percent your fault, Pig.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I sure missed talking to my favourite green Teletubby…” Techno mumbled distastefully as he stepped forward, his feet crunching on the sand. Upon closer look, it appeared to be pebbles, not sand, covering the entire empty realm.

“Oh, I know you did.” Dream said with a hint of amusement. “And I’m not even green.”

“You look green to me.”

“Pretending to be colourblind, are you?” Dream snorted, in his high-pitched blob voice. Techno poked him. “Hey!”

“And be the next ‘gogy wogy’? I’d rather be impaled with a harpoon.”

Dream laughed; his powerful wheeze reduced to squeaks. It was a jarring difference of tones whenever Dream used their mental connection to speak, and whenever his tiny blob body made a noise. “What the hell is wrong with you, Tech?”

He pursed his lips. “…A lot of things. Right now, it’s stress, and you’re not helping!”

The quiet was awful. They were being watched by eyes they couldn’t see. But still, a little danger was what they sought in the first place.

“They say that people find their most desperate need in the realm between realms, if they survive it.” He said as he moved, eyes keenly watching out for any dangers. “Perhaps all we need is to survive until something happens.”

They continued. Dream occasionally summoned Techno’s compass from his inventory hot bar. It always pointed towards Techno’s house, towards home at all times.

For an hour, not much has happened. At least, nothing the Blood God couldn’t handle on his own. A light chilly breeze passed over them constantly, gently swaying Techno’s crimson cloak as he walked. The realm between realms was known for its sudden spawns-or in other words, its tendency to be empty until someone found themselves treading its desert. And that was the state they found themselves in.

Mob after mob started manifesting out of thin air. Some of them were a few meters away, most of them right on top of the pair. And Techno didn't waste time to pull out his sword and perfect his dooming slices.

“This isn’t too bad,” Techno said, breathing heavily. It was strange that no structures were spawning yet. Spawned structures were dangerous, but they could at least provide a controlled kind of danger. It was leagues better than being out in the open, waiting for worse things to spawn.

“Are you okay? We should take a break if you’re tired…” Dream echoed softly. “Let’s set up the de-spawn torches. I can hear your stomach grumbling!”

“No, you can’t.” He huffed, though his stomach chose to make a noise right there and then.

Dream scoffed, and Chat made fun of him.

“Fine. I’m hungry after doing all the heavy lifting. Is that what you wanted to hear, Marshmallow?” Techno pulled Dream out of his pocket, facing him with narrowed eyes. Dream’s smile stretched annoyingly.

“Yes! It’s okay to take a break sometimes. Even a big shot ‘blood for the blood god’ pig like yourself is not immune to hunger. Here, the torches are in my inventory!” It was that disturbingly honest tone that he used whenever it was painfully obvious that Techno needed a few more potatoes than Dream’s starved body could handle during their time as prisoners. It didn’t matter if Dream laced every word of his with an insult, because the sweetness of his intentions was never lost on Techno. The admin was willing to be cringe if it meant getting his concern across. Techno would lie to say that he disliked it, even if he himself will never allow himself to be so cringe and wholesome. Definitely not. What happens in prison stays in prison. He smiled despite himself, shaking his head.

Dream jumped down as he spoke so, halfway burying himself into the stone-sand by Techno’s feet. His small arms moved to summon his inventory panel, a suspended screen of magic highlighting every item at their disposal. Dream’s panel was too small for Technoblade to get a read on, but it was obvious how much of an unorganised mess it was. Within a couple of seconds, Dream held the de-spawn torches, they were a special kind that not only prevented mobs from spawning, but when placed in a circle provides a considerable magic field protecting them from most weak airborne attacks and unwanted underground creatures. They were only one of the genius inventions of Philza Minecraft. Techno would cast a blind eye on the witchcraft his friend would get up to, as long as he was sure they wouldn’t be used against himself.

“Thank you very much,” Techno said, grabbing the torches. He swiftly created a circle seven meters in diameter. The smaller the circle was, the stronger the defense, but Techno needed the space to stretch his legs as well.

“This is interesting.”

Techno turned around, seeing his friend as he lay on his back. He looked so small and squishable. Techno knelt down and felt the urge to bury him into the ground. Cute things made him feel mildly violent, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

“What’s interestin’?”

“There’s literally nothing around. There should at least be a structure, or a wither, or something by now. You know what this means?” He moved his arms and legs up and down, creating a small stone angel.

“That we’re not dying anytime soon?” He slumped down next to the blob, poking him in the middle. Dream didn’t even flinch.

“Sure. It also means that someone’s recently cleansed the area.”

Techno hummed. He hadn’t the faintest idea what Dream was talking about, and maybe it showed on his face. But he’d already asked him to elaborate once. He wasn’t going to suffer the indignity of asking again. Dream’s smug laugh was enough to make him stop.

“You can ask what that is, Tech. Don’t be shy!”

“If you wanna tell me go for it. I’m not satisfying your attention-seeking urges.” He smirked as Dream sat up, gasping in comical offense.

“What?!” There it is. “This is relevant information! But I won’t share if you don’t ask nicely.”

“Fine. It’s your fault if we die then.”

“It’ll be your fault for not wanting to know.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, bro.”

“That’s exactly how it works!”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yup!”

They stared at each other. A staring contest was born.

“We seem to have reached an impasse.” Techno narrowed his eyes. Dream huffed, “rolling” his eyes (or so Techno believed, if the little head roll meant anything).

Chat cheered; he won the staring contest.

“I’ll tell you, since you’re too emotionally constipated to ask.” Dream sat back down, though he didn’t lay down like before. Techno noted that his friend was looking a little red. Dream was easily frustrated by arguments, as far as his experience with Dream went.

“Basically, Cleansing’s when an area is completely rid of mobs. Such a spell requires an INSANE amount of magic, mind you, and the cleansed area usually doesn’t spawn monsters for months, and even if they do, they’re not stronger than skeletons and your usual SMP mob.”

“Ah, so nothing big’s gonna be spawned in here for a while, you mean?” Techno said as he summoned a piece of bread. They did stop for food, after all. “Why would they do that and not be here, though?”

“That’s the thing, really.” Dream nodded. “There’s no way a normal person has the kind of magic required for the spell. It was the sort of thing that literally needs divine intervention. When I made this SMP with XD, I had to get a shit-load of magic from him to perform the spell, because I can’t set up the barrier around a place infested with the stuff of horror. Once the barrier is set, it works to maintain the spell, making it self-sufficient to an extent. So… Are you picking up what I’m putting down?”

“Could be those strangers your dad was talking about,” Techno said, his mouth half full.

“He’s not my dad.”

“You think they’re tryna set up an SMP close to ours?”

Dream tilted his head. “Maybe. But they can’t do that without XD’s help, and he doesn’t seem to want to help them.”

“So…” Techno drawled. Dream smiled, shrugging. He had no clue what any of this means. Dream seemed to have an idea, but it was obvious he won’t elaborate anymore. Techno groaned. “What do you think this means, Dweam?”

“Never say that word again!” Dream said with a disgusted tone. “But thanks for asking. It’s the thought that counts, I think. Uh, well, we’re not too far from the SMP are we?”

“A few hours of walking isn’t too far, indeed.” Techno nodded into his break loaf. He paused, and glanced at Dream in surprise. “You think they already know about our SMP?”

“Very likely that they do.” Dream swayed in his place. He often did that back when they were imprisoned. Always fidgeting, humming, or mumbling… he could never stay still, and neither could Techno, but they loved making fun of each other for it. “Perhaps they went back or snuck into the SMP. They don’t have communicators so nobody would know if they crossed.”

“Makes sense.” He said as he took the final bite of his loaf. It was dry as hell, but at least it was something. He wouldn’t waste the good stuff just yet. The good thing about magic inventories was how the food simply couldn’t spoil in there. He gently carried Dream from the ground and placed him back into his pocket.

“Uh…” Dream began to speak, but instead, he went quiet.

“Did you not want me to do that?” He asked, concerned. He always assumed it was cozier in his pocket, due to Dream’s magic aura which felt rather content in that position. Did he misinterpret it?

“No, um. Nope! Pretty warm in here. I was just surprised.” He snuggled in, head sinking into the pocket further. “I still can’t get used to being picked up. Like, I can’t do anything on my own. It’s annoying!”

“For you and me both, bruh.” Techno sighed and laid on his back. They both stared at the endless grey in front of them, feeling drowsiness catch up to them. “Well, at least now we can talk, instead of me having to figure out what you’re saying all the time.”

Dream giggled, turning to lay on his torso. He watched Techno as he propped his head on top of crossed arms. “Half of your interpretations were dumb and self-serving anyway.”

“That’s what you get for being susceptible to bullying, Dream. You get bullied.”

They sat for a while, talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing. It was nice to just sit down and talk again, even if it was in an attempt to roast each other over the smallest things. It was… fun. It was nostalgic. When was the last time he’d spoken to Dream? Since he’d escaped, however many months ago that was?

They spent an hour talking, which was longer than the lunch break should have been. The sound of stone-sand crunching under heavy boots interrupted their chatter. Four people approached them, and Technoblade stood swiftly, hands finding his sword again.

“No… Holy shit, is that…” Dream stopped himself as the company of strangers faced them, a couple of meters away from their torches. Techno quickly glanced at Dream in confusion. The pig hybrid didn’t recognise any of them.

Tina followed her friends. Or were they her superiors? She couldn’t tell. All that she knew was that she was chosen, and that meant she did something right. You don’t get chosen by Tam unless you’re good, right? At least, that’s what she wanted to believe for her and Boomer, who followed Tam and Aeri into the realm between realms once more.

She hated the place. It was too barren, too lifeless… The enchanted flowers etched to her overalls withered the first time she came through, and she neglected to wear them out ever since. Boomer was nice enough to make her some paper flowers to clip onto her clothes instead, and she cherished the gesture.

It was them two against the world, and right now, they needed to prove to the Order (and themselves) that they were more than expendible foot soldiers. They could be more to Lauria SMP, if they were given the chance.

This was the chance.

“What’s that, in the distance?” Boomer said, pointing towards something northeast of where they stood. The four of them stopped as they inspected the area, and Tina recognized the silhouette of a man standing in the distance. A tall man, by the looks of it. They took up positions in mere milliseconds. Aeri, the gentle giant as they called him, stood before Tam, his axe equipped at the ready. Tina and Boomer stood slightly behind him, weapons in hand, in a solid V formation to protect Tam, their Admin and leader.

Tam hummed, threading her hand through her short flaming red hair. “Looks like we’ve got company…”

“Could be a refugee?” Aeri asked, his voice distinctly soft. Tina often wondered how someone as nice as him ended up in the upper echelon, a group seemingly made of vultures.

“Whoever they are, it’s their lucky day.” Tem said in a voice that filled Tina with dread. She couldn’t even warn the stranger if she tried. Nothing good comes from being involved with her SMP, but she was one of those born with enough bad luck to find themselves in its inescapable web.

Tina tried to listen as Tam spoke. Even though the Admin treated her with much love and appreciation, she couldn’t help but feel like it was all an act. She wouldn’t put it past the woman to exile her from the SMP entirely due to insubordination.

“Oh, seems like our guest has noticed us.” Tam said through a toothy grin. “Shall we pay them a visit?”

The question was entirely rhetorical, and they all knew that. Tina gave one look of desperation towards Boomer, who shrugged and kept his brave face on. She stepped forward. Tina hoped that whoever it was… They’d just run away. Perhaps to the SMP they’d found a few days ago around these parts, if anywhere.

They didn’t.