Archive of Our Own

Techno let his head hit the desk with a groan. 

“I’m dropping out,” he announced to the ground and anyone else who might have been listening.

“Sure, mate.” A hand landed on his shoulder. Techno looked up into dancing blue eyes that crinkled around the corners with silent laughter. 

“I’m serious this time, Phil,” Techno said, sitting up and tapping his space bar rapidly. Three monitors flickered to life in front of him. A crown with a sword plunged through the center pulsed gently, white against the black screens. 

The word appeared in a familiar serif font just below his logo without an entry field for the prompted password. Techno entered a string of characters half-blindly, fingers dancing across the screen. 

Gray light scattered across the desk, illuminating gold-rimmed glasses perched crookedly on his nose. Half of his pink hair had been tied back hastily while the rest tumbled down his back, loose strands framing tired eyes that darted across the lines of code spilling across all three monitors. 

Techno slipped his hands beneath his glasses, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Look at this.” He shoved himself away from the screens, making room for Phil to peer at the code. 

Phil squinted, peering at the code. He tapped the arrow keys, navigating through Techno’s development with a familiar hand. “Mate, it looks… functional, at least.” 

“ Functional isn’t good enough. XD was functional. Every virus in existence has been functional. I want something more.” Techno’s hands dropped into his lap with a groan. 

Phil scoffed. “Fucking XD. That damn thing has been a pain in the ass for months now. Red tape like no other.” 

“Yeah,” Techno said, rolling his eyes. “But when have we ever played by the rules?” 

Phil crowed out a laugh. “Come on, mate. Enough tech talk - let’s go get some coffee.” Phil rested his hand on Techno’s shoulder, shaking it gently. “Touch some grass.” 

Techno huffed, rolling his eyes. “You just want to go see your son.”

“He’s not my son,” Phil protested halfheartedly, but the grin on his face suggested otherwise. “I don’t want to pressure him into anything, Techno.” 

Techno raised his hands in surrender, smiling fondly. “Whatever you say, Phil.”

The two made their way down the hall, shoulders brushing against each other as they followed the familiar path downstairs and to the coffee shop, just a few minutes’ walk away. 

The streets were busy, bustling with people making their way through the city. For a moment, Techno let himself wonder what their stories might be. Their families, their lives, their stories. He wondered about the pink-haired girl who knelt by the flowers outside the coffee shop, if she knew what kind of flower would blossom next beneath her touch. He wondered about the boy in the blue beanie, clutching a law school textbook to his chest as though it contained the answers to the universe itself. He wondered about the barista with the oversized yellow jumper, sleeves shoved past his elbows, whose hands trembled at the best of times and yet did not waver as he slid the portafilter into place, setting a double shot to brew. 

It was that barista that turned to him with a broad smile, spreading his arms wide in welcome. “Techno! Phil! My favorite customers.”

“Wilbur! Our favorite barista,” Phil said, returning the wide smile. “How has business been?” 

“Boring,” Wilbur said, hardly looking as he reached for the oat milk. “No one is as interesting as you two are. They just want their coffee and to continue on with their day.” 

“Well, I’m glad we’re able to keep you entertained,” droned Techno, before his face cracked into a slight smile. 

The two happily accepted cups of coffee, letting the ambiance of the cafe wash over them as they settled into their corner booth. Phil looked over towards Wilbur with something that might have been pride. Techno shot Phil a knowing look, huffing out a laugh as the older man swatted at him. He turned, a small TV across the cafe catching his eye. 

“In the months following the elimination of XD, a destructive AI that swept through L’Manburg leaving chaos in its wake and the deaths of over 3,000 civilians, a new system has been set into place to destroy all sentient artificial intelligence. DREAM has now been active for seven months. City officials have just announced a complete embargo on sentient AI…”

The words faded into static as the ringing in Techno’s ears grew louder and louder. His shoulders stiffened, fingers tightening around his mug as white knuckles pushed against his skin. He stared resolutely into the coffee, watching the bubbles swirl in the center. 

Some part of him vaguely registered Phil talking to Wilbur, resting one calloused hand on Techno’s forearm. The same hand guided him out of the cafe. The route passed him by, some thought humming in the back of his mind. 

Something had changed. 

Something had happened to cause a complete ban on sentient artificial intelligence. Someone had made a decision on behalf of others with information that they refused to share. 

DREAM had changed the world, irrevocably and irreparably. 

Techno could do the same. 

He found himself in his office, seated in front of his monitors, hands still wrapped around the coffee cup like it held an impossible solution. He nodded absently as Phil gave him a pointed look, muttering “take care of yourself, mate,” but Techno barely heard it. Nothing could compare to the newfound purpose burning in his chest, a drive that whispered to him. 

He knew what he had to do.

Techno knew what it was to drive himself. He was an engineer, not to mention a college student. He had pulled all-nighters during finals week, eyes burning as they scanned over lines of code, hands shaking on the keyboard. He knew what it was to have a star burn in his chest, exploding into light and color of ideas before transforming into a black hole, one that drained away everything else until only a blaze of ambition, knowing that there was something greater just beyond his reach. 

And so he typed. 

He coded. 

He worked. 

It was almost frantic, in its nature, but there was nothing else compared to that inspiration. All he could think was--

Compile. 

Debug. 

Type. 

Compile. 

Check errors. 

Debug. 

Compile. 

Type. 

Compile. 

He didn’t even realize that he had fallen asleep until a firm hand rested on his shoulder, shaking him from his accidental slumber. 

“Wake up, Techno.” 

Techno pushed himself upwards, shoving away his keyboard blearily as he rubbed the sleep from aching eyes. “Hey Phil,” he muttered, the rasp of his unused voice giving away any chance of nonchalance. 

“Mate, how long have you been here?” Phil’s voice rested somewhere between a familiar fondness and concern - not an unusual tone when it came to Techno’s habitual conduct.

“I uh…” He trailed off, looking towards his darkened monitor in an instinctual motion. “I haven’t left.” 

Phil’s mouth twisted into a concerned smile. “It’s been four days.” 

“Huh,” Techno said, brain still slow with fatigue. 

“Care to share what you’ve been working on?” 

Techno ran both hands down his face before tapping the space bar rapidly and typing in a string of characters. “Yeah, it’s--” He cut off abruptly as the crown and sword vanished, instead replaced by a simple line of text. 

“Oh, fuck,” breathed Phil, a succinct summary of both of their thoughts. 

“It worked,” said Techno, blinking at the screen. He tapped a few keys, clicking out a quick reply as a smile spread across his face. 

The computer hummed for a moment. 

Techno was fast to type a reply. 

“Techno, what does that mean? Live feed processing?”

Techno turned, a slightly guilty look flashing across his face before his haze hardened resolutely. Light flickered across his face as information began to appear on the screen below his request. “If you wanted to make a difference in the world, Phil, how far would you go?” The question lingered in the air, the weight sinking in as Techno stared at Phil, brown eyes turning almost crimson in the artificial light. 

“Techno--” 

“How far would you go?”

“I’d do anything,” Phil breathed. “Everything.” 

“And I… did. I did it. I think.” 

“What did you do?” 

“Every message, every call, every camera in L’Manburg is running through this code.” Techno clicked a few times, bringing the code to the center monitor. On either side, videos and messages flashed by, each of them appearing on screen for merely the blink of an eye before it was replaced with something else. 

“That’s…” Phil let out a puff of air, simply baffled. “Hundreds of thousands of data points every single minute.” 

“And now, all it needs to do is learn,” Techno nodded. “It needs to dig through the data and learn from it.”

“Learn what?” 

“It could calculate how to redistribute food to end shortages. It could find secrets and report premeditated crimes before they even happen. It could do… anything and everything, Phil.” 

“Holy shit.” 

Techno nodded wordlessly, eyes wide as the flickering light reflected in the lenses of his glasses. 

“Holy shit,” Phil repeated, still purely stunned. “Techno, is this legal?” 

“No. Particularly not since DREAM came online.” 

“And you--”

“And I did it anyways,” Techno said, sitting up straighter in his chair, spine clicking as he did. He smiled, a cocky and biting thing even despite the fatigue etched into his face. “If there’s something that can do this much good in the world, why would I let a few laws get in the way of that?” 

Phil paused for a moment, trying to wrap his head around the idea before huffing out a slight laugh, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Do you want to see it in action?” 

“Sure.”

“His name is INNIT,” Techno said, stretching his fingers before resting them on a keyboard. 

“INNIT?” 

“Integration of Necessitated Navigation within Invulnerable Technologies,” Techno explained, his smile only growing. 

Phil scoffed. “He’s got some learning to do.”

“So we’ll teach him,” Techno replied. 

“Let me at him,” Phil said with a crooked smile, swatting Techno’s hands away from the keyboard. “I’ve got a thing or two I can teach him.”

Techno frowned, but it was a fond emotion. “Be gentle, Phil.” 

“No chance,” he crowed, laughing. 

“So we’ve got some personality in there,” Phil muttered. Techno smiled even as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Phil cackled as the words appeared on screen. Techno’s jaw dropped at the sight of INNIT pushing back so hard. 

“Phil, you can’t swear at INNIT like that,” Techno hissed. 

“Why the fuck not?” Phil said, grinning at him. “He’s gonna learn one way or another. We’ll call it “adding to his personality matrix” , if it makes you feel better.” 

“It’s-- he’s--” Techno stumbled over his words as he tried to come up with an argument, ultimately just slapping a hand over his eyes.

“What?” Techno said from behind him. “It’s a cool name.”

“Even the kid doesn’t like it,” Phil shot back. “It’s a shit name.” 

> would you like a new name?

Phil spun away from the keyboard, standing with a groan and ignoring the ways his knees cracked. “I wasn’t kidding about the coffee, Techno. Let’s go.”

They traced the familiar path back to the cafe, footsteps falling into sync .

“It’s been just a bit too long since you’ve been outside, mate,” Phil laughed, slinging an arm around Techno’s shoulders as the man blinked in the sunlight, squinting his eyes even as he turned his face up towards the clear sky. 

Techno huffed out a laugh. “You’re not wrong.” 

“You know, you’ve done a great thing in making Tommy,” Phil sighed. 

“I hope so,” Techno replied, eyes still closed in the sunlight. 

“Well, I know so,” Phil said. “I know you, Techno, and I know you are capable of great things.”

“But great doesn’t always mean good,” murmured Techno. His head reared back, eyes blinking open as Phil flicked his forehead. 

“Stop worrying about that. We’ve got time.” 

“Yeah,” Techno sighed. “I hope so.”

Phil pushed open the door to the cafe.

“Hey!” Wilbur greeted them, setting down two to-go cups. “Two regulars for my favorite regulars.”

“How did you know we were coming?” Techno said, picking up the one with a pink pig doodled on the side.

“A certain crow texted ahead,” Wilbur said with a grin. 

Techno looked towards Phil, who wore a notably not-guilty expression as he shrugged, drinking deeply from the cup, fingers resting above the little crow Wilbur had drawn on it. 

“Thanks,” Techno said quietly, directing the word somewhere between Wilbur and Phil. Both of them smiled, Phil bumping shoulders with Techno.

Wilbur rubbed the back of his neck as he grinned, a familiar motion. “Can I ask what you two have been working on?” 

Techno and Phil exchanged a glance, a silent conversation that Wilbur wasn’t privy to. After a moment, Techno finally spoke. “Wilbur, how would you like to visit a friend of ours?” 

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Wilbur shrugged. “I’m in.” 

“That’s a dangerous sentiment,” Techno muttered. Phil elbowed him. 

“Just come by our office after your shift and we’ll get you set up,” Phil said with an easy smile. 

Wilbur looked down at his jumper, sleeves shoved up to his elbows. “Are you sure? I feel like I should shower. Maybe change.” 

“He won’t care,” Techno snorted. 

“Are you sure?” Wilbur asked, fiddling with the hem. 

“We’re sure,” Phil laughed. “You’ll be fine, mate.” 

“We’ll go get set up,” Techno said, giving Wilbur a small smile, one that spoke of excitement and anxiety all at once. 

The walk back to the office was only filled with Techno’s muttering as he tried to visualize a rapid solution, not to mention his own internal debate.

“I should have thought this through more,” Techno muttered, digging through a box of miscellaneous wires and cables.

“You’re right,” Phil said, grinning as he watched Techno search. 

Techno paused, looking up towards Phil. “Do you think it’ll be good for him?” 

“For who - Wilbur or Tommy?” 

“Both,” Techno shrugged. “Either.” 

Phil hummed. “Wilbur’s always been curious about things like this. And for Tommy-- well, the only thing better than Wilbur for him is you.” 

“You mean it?” Techno plugged in the mic, a Blue Yeti that had been tucked onto a shelf. 

“I do,” Phil said with a fond smile - one Techno could hear, even without looking at him. 

“Okay,” Techno said, letting out a sigh, breath shaking only slightly with worry. “I’ll figure out the new input without linking it to the city’s sensor system.”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Phil shot him a smile, clapping a hand on his shoulder before sliding into his own office chair as Techno sank into the ebb and flow of coding. 

Wilbur’s knock was almost hesitant on the entryway to Techno’s office. 

“Hey Wil,” Techno greeted, hardly glancing away from the screen. 

“How do you always do that?” Wilbur groaned, resting his elbow on Techno’s shoulder. It was a testament to their friendship that Techno didn’t shrug it off, instead leaning ever so slightly into the casual touch, although he’d never admit it to the brunette. 

(He didn’t need to. Wilbur knew.)

“Let’s call it instinct,” Techno said. “Plus, Phil headed home twenty minutes ago.” 

Wilbur snorted in reply, peering at what the other man was typing. “Who was it you wanted me to meet?” 

“You’re already looking at him.”

“Hm?” Wilbur’s brow furrowed. Techno gestured vaguely towards the left monitor, where Tommy’s cursor waited. 

>

“What is poggers?” Wilbur whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from the words. 

Techno shrugged. “He’s coming up with his own slang. Part of the speech and personality code.”

“Wait, actually--” The words practically tumbled out of Wilbur’s mouth as the thought occurred to him. “He makes decisions about saving peoples’ lives?” 

“Yep,” said Techno. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Something in Wilbur went sharp - an indignant anger that rested in the corners of his mouth and the points of his eyebrows. “Are you trying to play god, Techno?” 

“Heh?” Techno turned, letting Wilbur’s arm fall off his shoulder. 

“You made something that’s choosing who to save, but we both know you can’t save everyone.” Wilbur said, throwing his words like shards of ice. “What gives you the right to decide who gets help and who gets abandoned?” 

“Nothing gives me the right, Wilbur,” Techno said, voice hard. “I don’t want to make the decisions. That’s why I made him.” 

“So a machine gets to decide who lives and who dies?” Wilbur spat.

“He’s more than just a machine, Wil. He listens and learns, just like we do.” Something glinted in Techno’s eyes, a story that Wilbur hadn’t heard. “And without him, everyone gets abandoned.” 

In another lifetime, they were brothers, facing one another in a battle neither of them wanted to be, hands wrapped around swords that felt so accursedly familiar with the knowledge that neither of them could cede. 

But in this lifetime, Wilbur deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Techno. I assumed the worst.” 

“S’alright,” Techno muttered, clearing his throat and trying to get rid of the sudden emotion. 

“Can I meet him?” 

(It was an olive branch extended, and they both knew it.)

“Of course.” 

(It was forgiveness, silent and sweet.)

Techno poked at the Blue Yeti, unmuting it. “Tommy, you can hear me?”

“Say hello to Wilbur.”

Techno’s brow furrowed. “Tommy, you seem quiet.” 

“Wilbur’s a good person, Toms,” Techno chuckled. “He’s one of the best.” 

Wilbur cleared his throat. “I thought you were INNIT. Techno called you Tommy?” 

“Can I call you Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was gentle, as kind as Techno had ever heard it.

“You don’t have to say yes, you know,” Wilbur said with a smile that Tommy couldn’t see. 

“Yeah, kid. You can choose for yourself.” Techno crossed his arms. 

“Techno, you didn’t tell him he could choose for himself?” Wilbur hissed. 

“Bruh,” Techno muttered. “He’s only been fully online for a couple hours, plus a few days of dev.”

Wilbur swatted half-heartedly at Techno. “You fuck, that should have been the first thing you told him.” 

“I know,” Wil said, grinning crookedly. “You deserve to hear Techno getting bullied every now and then.” 

“Don’t give him ideas, Wil,” Techno said, huffing out a quiet laugh. “Tommy, don’t listen to him.” 

“You should definitely listen to me,” Wilbur shot back. “I’m smarter than Techno in the things that matter.”

“Well then, Tommy, it’s nice to meet you,” Wilbur said, spreading his arms as he bowed slightly. 

“Wil, he can’t see you--”

“And whose fault is that?” hissed Wilbur, straightening. 

Techno continued, unabashed. “--you don’t need to be all dramatic.” 

“Tommy, by the way-- you know you don’t have to yell all the time,” Wilbur said with a laugh. “Techno won’t tell you things like that.” 

“You kind of are,” said Wilbur with a smile, “what with the all caps and everything.” 

“That’s why I’m here. Now, tell me, what’s your favorite music?”

Wilbur’s face lit up. “Aww, Techno, you listen to my band?” he cooed. 

Techno slapped a hand over his eyes. “It’s good music, I just wasn’t expecting to be outed by my own AI.”

Wilbur laughed, loud and proud. “And what do you think of Lovejoy, Tommy?” 

“I didn’t know you could like music,” said Techno. 

“Good. I’m glad,” Wilbur said, a note of something genuine in his voice. “I’ve got to go-- I work the morning shift tomorrow, but I’ll try and come back by later, Tommy, alright?”

“Oh, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” chuckled Wilbur.

“Bye, Tommy.”

Techno hit the mute button on the mic. “What do you think?” 

“I feel like you’ve just introduced me to your little brother,” Wilbur laughed, before his voice softened. “But really, he seems like a good kid.” 

“He is,” Techno replied. “Or at least, I hope he is.” 

“You know I don’t know much about your work,” Wilbur started. 

“I’m aware,” muttered Techno, ignoring Wilbur’s venomless noise of indignation. 

“But the code, it’s like music. And this-- Tommy is a symphony.” His eyes were somehow sad and hopeful all at once. “He’s a magnum opus, Techno. I hope you know that.” 

“I hope so,” Techno murmured. “If I’m lucky, I’ll never have to code anything like him again.” 

Wilbur sighed, as though there were a thousand things he wished he could say. Instead, he gave Techno a tight smile, wrapping his arm around Techno in a sideways hug for only a moment before he headed out the door, knocking his knuckles against the doorframe as he did so. 

Techno let out a sigh, thoughts spinning for a moment before he clicked back on the mic. “Alright, kid, Wilbur’s gone. You’re stuck with me again. 

“Hit me with it,” Techno said absentmindedly. His fingers clicked as he typed out an email, only sparing a slight glance towards the monitor where Tommy’s command console was now open continuously. 

Techno paused, blinking at the words that had appeared on the screen. “Isn’t it too early for you to be this existential?” 

“You know chaos theory, right?” Techno said, spinning slightly in his chair. 

Techno could practically feel Tommy rolling his eyes, and a smile flickered across his lips as he read. “Fine. Explain it to me in 50 words or less, in daily language.” 

“Something that non-scientists would understand. Don’t use words like “deterministic laws” or “aperiodic behavior.””

“Can you predict what happens?”

“So what if you could run the simulation? If you knew the variables.”

“Consider that on the scale of all of L’Manburg. You can see through every camera, every mic, every sensor in the city. What are your variables?”

“Exactly. So now, you need to learn.” 

“Learn how to run those simulations. Learn how people behave and why they behave the way they do.”

“And then you can save people,” said Techno quietly. “You have the power to change the world, Tommy, and I want you to change it for the better.” 

Techno winced. “Not exactly.” 

“We’ll change that,” Techno said. “But you have so much potential, Tommy. I want to help you learn how to use it, but only if you want to.”

“You always have a choice,” whispered Techno. 

“You do, but we have time to figure it all out. You’ll learn, kid.”

It took a few days for Techno to bring in a chess board, setting the polished wood down on the desk. “Tommy, I brought something for you.”

“You mentioned chess, didn’t you?”

The words stopped scrolling as Techno plugged in a webcam, flipping up the lens cap as he balanced it carefully on top of the monitor. The light around the lens glowed blue as Tommy recognized the new input, peering at Techno through the camera. 

“That was terrible and you know it,” said Techno drily. 

Techno was suddenly acutely aware of the pink strands falling out of a careless bun, gold-framed glasses resting crookedly on his nose, a scar stretching down his face. “You knew how I looked,” he said in some attempt to deflect. “Conferences publish photos of their presenters every year.”

“Whatever you say,” Techno replied, rolling his eyes as he reached out, hand blocking the lens as he tilted it down towards the chess board. “We’re playing chess.” 

“Sure,” acknowledge Techno, setting the pieces up carefully. “But you haven’t played against me yet.”

Techno gave him a smile, something almost arrogant just beneath the surface. “You go first, Tommy.” 

Techno pushed the white pawn forward, moving his own pawn directly opposing it. “Pawn to E5.”

The computer hummed for a moment before another line appeared. 

“Interesting move, kid. Bishop to C5.”

“Bishop to F2. Check.” Techno crossed his arms, letting Tommy think over his next move with a slight smirk. 

“Sure. Queen to H4. Check.” 

“Queen to F4. Check. It’s not so easy, is it?” 

“Since you asked so nicely. Pawn to D5.”

“Queen to E4. Do you know what piece that was, Tommy?” 

“The first pawn you moved. Gone forever.” Techno stared into the screen, as though searching for something.

“Knight to A6. And that would depend on who you asked.” 

“Yes. What do you think?” Techno hummed. “Queen to A4. Check.” 

His desktop hummed, echoing the same note. 

“So you did. But uh-- knight to C5. Check.”

“Watch the details, Tommy. Pawn to A5. Check.” Techno shook his head. “Even the smallest thing can be a threat. Every piece matters, and you can’t overlook a single detail.” 

“I’m the one who added it to your knowledge base.” Techno chuckled. “But I find there are always new things to learn. Knight to E7.” 

“King to D8.” 

“Pawn to B6. Check. Don’t underestimate those pawns, Tommy.” 

“Knight to C6. There goes your bishop.” 

“Bishop to B7. Check.”

“You’re questioning things. That’s good.” Techno nodded, almost to himself. “Bishop to A6. Check.” 

“Bishop to B7. Check.”

A few blank lines appeared, a visual cue to Tommy thinking. 

“Always, Tommy.” Techno sighed as he quietly rearranged the board, returning pieces one by one to their starting positions. “You asked me to teach you chess, and I’ve done that. It’s a useful exercise. Good for strategy.”

Techno crossed his arms, staring down at the board. “I don’t like playing chess.” 

“Because it makes some pieces more important than others, and you start to overlook the pieces that others don’t care about.” 

Techno nodded. “You know, I’m not going to be around forever.”

“I’m… I’m human, Tommy. I’m not like you. I’m not going to live forever.” Techno looked down at his hands for a moment, resting his upturned palms on the table within the camera’s view. “We each have our own curses, and mine is mortality.” 

Techno curled his hands into fists. 

“One day, you’re going to have to choose. I don’t envy the decisions you’re going to have to make. And I’ll be gone, and you might not have anyone to talk to.” His fists tightened, white knuckles resting against the table as his nails bit into his palms. “If my curse is mortality, then yours is immortality.” 

“I want you to remember something for me, Tommy.”

“Chess is just a game. People aren’t pieces. You can’t assign more value to some than to others. Not for anything.” 

“What about me?”

“You, indeed.” Techno sighed. “But there will come a day when you have to choose. You can’t sacrifice people like pieces. There is a valor in their existence - an honor that is intrinsic to life itself.” 

“If you look at the world like it’s a game of chess, then you’re going to lose. And you’re going to hurt a lot of people.” 

Something pulled at Techno’s chest. “You might, someday. And that’s okay.” 

“I know,” Techno whispered. “But if you have to choose between saving everything and saving me, you’ll have to let me go.” 

“You can,” Techno replied, voice even. “I know you can. I coded you, Tommy.” 

His computer only hummed in response. Techno tucked away the chessboard. 

The camera stayed active, much to both Tommy and Wilbur’s excitement. Wilbur had become something of a regular guest in Techno’s office, coming to bother the two of them. Phil was thrilled with this development, watching proudly as Wilbur shot remarks back and forth 

Techno remembered how hesitant Wilbur had been only a few days prior.

“Hey, Techno, can I ask you a question?” Something in Wilbur’s voice was strange, as though he was bracing himself for Techno’s response. 

“Sure,” Techno replied, trying not to let worry seep into his own voice. 

“Do you think I could come by to see Tommy again?” 

Techno blinked. “You got me worried for that?” 

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Wilbur said apologetically. “I just-- I don’t like to pry, and I don’t want to push you if that’s not something you can do, or even want to do. But Tommy’s a good kid, and--”

“Wilbur,” Techno said, cutting off the other man’s rambling. “You can come see him anytime you want.” 

“Really?” Wilbur’s voice was hopeful, and it settled happily in Techno’s chest, like a cat curling happily in the sun. 

“Of course.” 

But Wilbur was good for Tommy. The brunette had fallen into the habit of calling Tommy “his little symphony.” Tommy was always quick to reply.

“I will cry,” Techno would always hear Wilbur say. None of them acknowledged the way his voice shook with emotion. 

Another engineer might have asked questions about the way the two interacted. Another programmer might have watched Tommy grow with wariness, asking questions about why he behaved the way he did. 

Techno wasn’t one of those engineers.

Asking questions driven by evaluation could be a dangerous thing, especially with an AI that was still learning. Techno hoped Tommy would be capable of great things. Tommy’s mind was unformed, in many ways. Techno’s questions might limit how he thought and acted.

He was content to watch Tommy grow. 

Though he did admit, he’d been wondering when Tommy’s next development marker would be. There was no metric for an AI like Tommy - the only way to learn was to wait.

The waiting had its benefits as well. It was a quiet day. Techno’s hands were wrapped around a cup of peppermint tea, nursing one of the numerous blue-light driven headaches that so often haunted him.

Techno squinted at the screen. “What’s up, Tommy?”

“Go ahead,” Techno said, slipping on his blue light glasses as he sat up straighter, watching the monitor where Tommy’s words appeared even closer. 

As soon as Tommy saw he had Techno’s attention, his words vanished. 

ASCII characters swirled across the screen, as though the very code itself had melted into an image. They darted across the screen, dancing as they tried to find their place. An eye blinked from beneath a swirl of symbols before vanishing into his screen. Characters collected together, white light against his slate-gray screen forming the ghost of a jawline. His desktop hummed as something within learned light and shadow, gradients painted in black and white characters. The characters settled slowly, never quite reaching stillness as a face blinked at him. His monitor flickered with ever-changing symbols as he looked into the eyes of the code he had created. 

It was a rudimentary generation. The background of his screen flickered with glitches as symbols appeared where they shouldn’t. Something about the face seemed slightly off, as though Techno’s instinct could tell that it wasn’t quite human. 

But nothing could change the pride that burned in his chest as Tommy grinned at him, a crooked and youthful thing. 

“Hi, Tommy.”

The words appeared on screen next to his face, the characters strangely still next to the energy that seemed to hum through Tommy. 

“Nicely done,” Techno said, nodding his head, fatigue and headache forgotten. “Walk me through it.” 

“And what about me?” Techno asked, feigning hurt, even with the smile that spread across his face. 

Tommy holds up a wrist, fingers carefully crafted from the very code itself. Gleaming on his wrist was the outline of a golden chain, a tiny prism on the center flickering green. 

“You made yourself a bracelet,” Techno said quietly. 

“You match more than just me, Tommy.” He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He tugged at the emerald that dangled from his own ear. “Phil’s got an emerald on a bracelet. Wil’s used to be on a bracelet, but he moved it to a chain around his neck when it got in the way of his work.” 

“Phil’s a sentimental old man,” Techno said, looking towards the ground as he tried to conceal his smile. 

“Well, start with one, and we’ll go from there,” Techno said with a fond smile. 

It became a habit. Every day - sometimes right as he stepped into his office, sometimes as the afternoon sun whispered through dust particles hovering in the air, sometimes just as he was turning the lights off to leave - he would ask Tommy a question, and Tommy would ask him one in return. 

(Sometimes, they were simple.)

“Tommy, what’s your favorite color?” 

“Sure,” Techno said, shrugging on his jacket, pulling up on a messy braid so it didn’t get caught beneath the worn brown leather. “But you’re allowed to have favorites, or to ask for things.” 

Tommy pulled in one lip, gnawing on it in a nervous motion. 

“It can never hurt to ask,” Techno said with a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.  

“Gold, probably. Crimson is a good one as well.”

Tommy tilted his head.

Tommy looked to the side, at the monitor to Techno’s right. The entire screen flared red, bright and blinding. 

Techno reared back, hands shooting up to cover his eyes. “Tommy-- Tommy, please. Turn that off.”

Tommy’s accompanying smile, sharp and biting, said otherwise. 

(Sometimes, they were harder.)

“I--” Techno looked down at his hands, at the uneven skin that wrapped around his knuckles. 

“No, Tommy, it’s okay.” Techno shook his head, pursing his lips. “I should have expected this from the chess game.” He cleared his throat. “I… made a mistake a while back, and I got angry. I took it out the hard way. I punched through walls and picked fights I couldn’t win.”

He remembered the rage all too well, the way it burned in his chest. It had seared through his heart and into his stomach, a pool of molten metal that spat OUT venomous words with every jostle. He had forged it into a weapon and wielded himself against the world. He had fought because it made him feel something, and he was good at it.

Sometimes he wished he could fall back into that anger.

“Sorry,” Techno said, blinking himself out of the haze of memories. “Just… lost in my thoughts for a minute there.” 

“This one’s my burden, Tommy. At least for now.” 

Techno looked out at the stars and wondered if Tommy was cursed with his anger as well.

(But sometimes, they were simply proof of Tommy’s youth.)

Techno set down a coffee cup, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Alright, kid, any questions for me today?” 

Techno shook his head, looking down to hide the fond smile that flickered across his face. “What do you mean?” 

“You tell me,” Techno said, sitting down in his chair and leaning back. “You have access to the cameras and the storage database. Where do I go?”

“Ah,” Techno said, snapping his fingers. “I sleep, Tommy. I rest and reset. Well, I’m supposed to, anyways-- we engineers have a bad habit of pushing ourselves.” 

“Like a computer,” Techno repeated, nodding. “Our processors will overclock, so we turn everything off for a few hours and let it all cool down.”

Techno huffed out a laugh. “You can make it for a day or two, but eventually, it starts messing you up. Badly. The same goes for you. You work too hard, you’re going to overclock your system, and it’ll probably mess you up pretty badly.”

“Do that, Tommy.” Techno stood with a groan, pushing himself up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Tommy wasted no time in asking his question the following morning as Techno entered the office. 

Techno blinked at Tommy, who seemed to be bouncing up and down. “Uh, good morning, Tommy. I was not expecting that question.” 

“Enough with the spam, kid. Yes, I dreamed.”

“So it’s not enough to watch me all day, you wanna know what’s inside my head?” Techno raised his eyebrows at the boy, who rolled his eyes. 

Techno snorted. “You don’t dream of electric sheep?” 

“You tell me, kid,” Techno said, waving a hand. “At this point, you’re probably developing your own subconscious skills - as subconscious as anything could be for an AI, anyways - which would include dreams. Which brings me to my next topic.” 

“I think it’s time. Tommy, I want to grant you output access to the rest of the city.”

The ASCII characters bounced and leaped as Tommy’s excitement flashed across the screen. He spun, pumping a fist in the air. 

“It’s not without rules, though. You’ve got to be careful. If anyone realizes something is wrong, this whole thing comes crashing down.” 

Tommy rolled his eyes, still giddy with the prospect of freedom.

“Every shift of a camera lens, every blink of a light-- you can change it, but you could also get caught because of it. And the instant that anyone finds out you exist, you get shut down.

“There’s one more thing-- Tommy, sit down!” 

Tommy stilled immediately, eyes full of excitement looking towards Techno. It shifted as he looked at Techno, whose gaze was hard and unwavering.

“I need you to understand something. You cannot-- and I mean absolutely cannot interfere with other people’s decisions.” 

Tommy’s face twisted in confusion.

“There are things in this world that do exactly that because it gives them power.” Techno spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Power over other people, power to control their environment, power to do what they want.” 

“We all have free will, Tommy, and that’s what makes us… well, I would say human, but you’re more than human. That means responsibility.” 

“Exactly,” Techno nodded.

Tommy saluted. 

“Sure,” Techno mumbled. “Whatever that means. Oh, and don’t show your face anywhere other than on this monitor, do you hear?” 

Without another word, Tommy was gone, leaving Techno alone. 

Techno wasn’t sure how long he sat there, unmoving as he watched his monitor, waiting for… something, anything. 

“Hey, Tech,” Phil said, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. 

Techno jolted at the new voice, blinking eyes that burned from staring at the monitor. The afternoon sun spilled across the floor to his office, dust particles floating in the air making it seem strangely dense. “Hey, Phil.”

“Where’s the kid?” 

“Exploring,” Techno sighed. 

Phil huffed out a laugh. “You look like you dropped your little brother off at school and now you don’t know what to do with yourself.” 

“You’re not wrong,” he replied. “I’ve been watching over him for so long that now I feel… obsolete.” 

Phil sat down with a groan in the chair, nudging Techno with his foot. “To be fair, humans are verging on obsolete.”

“Says the man with two chips embedded in his hand,” Techno snorted. 

Phil shrugged. “It was useful enough.” 

Techno rolled his eyes fondly, huffing out a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something hummed inside him, an emotion he couldn’t quite name that tilted the corners of his smile back downwards. 

“You know, there was an accident outside the cafe this afternoon,” Phil said, something beneath his voice. “All the lights turned green at random. No deaths, but people are shaken.”

“Oh?” Techno hunched over, shoulders curling inwards. 

“You and I both know that that sort of thing isn’t a coincidence these days.”

“No,” he whispered. “It never is.”

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” Techno murmured. Some part of him noted that Tommy had likely picked up the habit of asking to ask from Phil - unlike him, who simply asked without hesitation or Wilbur, who only smiled apologetically through awkward questions. 

“How’d you do it?” Phil said, leaning forward. 

“How’d I do what?” Techno said, still absentmindedly spinning back and forth in his chair. 

“How did you make him care?” 

Techno breathed in sharply, stilling. “That’s the only thing that made him work, Phil.” 

“He cares about you, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Techno muttered. And that will be the death of him, he added silently. 

As if on cue, his screen flickered with light, flashing blindingly red for a heartbeat before Tommy’s face reappeared. His mouth stretched into a grin, his happiness evident in every bounce and bob of his head. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” whispered Phil. 

“I see the city treated you well,” Techno said, a smile spreading across his face. It was easier to smile, somehow. 

“What does it feel like?” The question fell from his mouth, curiosity bubbling in his chest until it threatened to overwhelm him.

“You’re a part of something greater,” Techno murmured. He scrambled for a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper and scribbling down Tommy’s words on it. 

“Shoot, kid,” Techno said, still writing, only glancing up to the screen for a millisecond. 

Techno froze, pen poised on the paper as his eyes stared at that line of text - so simple, and yet, it sent a pang through his chest. 

“Fear is… a complex thing,” Techno started, trying to choose every word carefully. 

The words came easier, with Tommy’s snark. 

“It’s a feeling that lives in your veins, the knowledge of what is and what could be resting in your chest until it threatens to choke you.” Techno blinked, bringing himself out of the strange haze. “Why do you ask?” 

“Tommy…” Techno said, a new note of concern in his voice. “What did you see out there?” 

“Who did you see?” Techno’s shoulders were stiff, hands curling into fists. 

“You need to be careful, Tommy,” Techno said, letting out a simmering sigh. “There’s only so much I can do to protect you out there.” 

“No,” murmured Techno. “Not at all.” 

“Did he say anything to you?” 

Techno sighed. “We’ve… run into him before. Me and Phil. What did he say?” 

“Oh, he recognized you, alright.” Techno tapped a finger on the desk. “There was a car accident a few blocks away this afternoon. Right in front of the cafe.” 

“There was a glitch--” the word was bitten off, Techno’s voice tight, “in the stoplights. All the lights at the intersection turned green at the same time.”

“Yep,” Techno nodded shortly. “Because he recognized you.” 

“DREAM isn’t good, Tommy. I need you to know that.” 

“What is it?” 

“That’s not-- I--” Techno stumbled over his words, trying to find the right one to answer. It was an impossible task, caught between Hercules and Sisyphus. He sighed. “The world wants to work in binary. Black and white, zeroes and ones. You’re either a good person or a bad person. But if you layer enough zeroes and ones on top of each other, it just turns gray.” 

He paused for a moment, looking towards the screen where the simple question shone at him. The cursor blinked below it, almost mocking him. “I don’t know if it matters, Tommy. I have always and will always do anything and everything to protect the people I care about.”

Tommy’s eyes were wide - almost innocent, if not for the concern that seemed to be lingering just beneath the surface of flickering characters. 

Techno snorted. “Well, the jury’s still out as to whether you can be considered a person or not.”

Techno had never seen the boy be so still. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at the ground as he worked around the words. 

“I don’t… I don’t think I can tell you that, Tommy. I want you to be, yeah. But that’s up to you now.” 

“That’s good,” Techno huffed, smiling a little bit. “Glad to hear.”

“But what?” 

“You’re really going for the hard questions tonight, aren’t you?” 

“Your mistakes become a part of you. You can’t change things - once you’ve made a mistake, it’s been made.” Techno sighed. “But sometimes, they can surprise you. My biggest mistake brought me here, with you.”

“One day,” Techno said quietly. 

“Promise.” 

The two sat in silence for a moment, the solemn promise heavy in the air. Techno was the first to break it. 

“It feels like I’m lying to you, Tommy, and I hate that.” 

“Promise,” Techno whispered, despite the way something in the back of his mind whispered treacherously. 

They fell into a schedule, a piece of regularity despite the chaos that Tommy knew all too well was soaked into the very world. There were anomalies and irregularities, certainly, but it was a normal of their own creation.

Techno would walk in, holding a cup of coffee or tea, usually from the cafe. Some days, he’d regale Tommy with stories of Wilbur’s most recent antics, a smile spread across his face. Others, he would paint the tales of Greek myths. Tommy knew the words, of course, but Techno brought a light to the stories. Techno was an artist, in that way. The words that had been nothing more than a series of symbols were alive with a rainbow of watercolors, new life breathed into them. 

Tommy would listen. He would ask his questions, pose terrible hypothetical questions that Techno couldn’t begin to answer, and argue inanely about the merits of something simply for the sake of arguing. Techno would always indulge him, and Tommy knew that despite his frustrated groans and contrary arguments that Techno was always happy to do so. 

Every once in a while, he would register Techno giving him a sad smile, something painfully fond and perhaps even vulnerable. Neither of them mentioned it. 

Once they had finished their arguments ( “discussions”, as Techno called them), Tommy would leave. He’d branch out into every sensor he could, sinking into the metadata as he watched tens of thousands of variables move, wrapping his arms around the very cortex of the city he was just starting to know. He would return just in time to say goodnight to Techno before humming into his own almost-sleep, processing all the data he had collected that day, all the things he had seen and learned. 

At first, Techno would sit and wait for him to come back. He waited in the quiet, eyes resting in the air. It was strange, in some ways, but he couldn’t help the concern that hummed through him in Tommy’s absence. If something happened, if Tommy found a glitch, if DREAM found him-- 

Well, suffice it to say, there were enough theoreticals in Techno’s mind (even without being a calculation-based AI) that his concern was at least based on something.

It got easier, slowly - perhaps a nod to his humanity, a quiet juxtaposition to Tommy’s own processing speed. On the day they argued about pepperoni on pizza (despite the fact that Tommy didn’t have taste sensors), Techno started coding. The first few keystrokes were slow, hesitant, as though he were doing something wrong by occupying himself in Tommy’s absence. But they quickly grew faster and faster, the hands of a sculptor finding their tools again, laying down the foundation for a new statue of code. 

A few days later, on the day Techno told him the story of Icarus and Daedalus, Techno stood up from his chair with a heavy groan. His back protested from many days in a shitty office chair as he grabbed his water bottle. His march to the water fountain was quicker than usual, leg bouncing as the water trickled into his water bottle slowly, too slowly, Tommy needs me there, what if something happens--

He practically ran back to his desk, falling into his seat, but his computer was quiet. His code was exactly as he left it, and no alerts had popped up across the city. 

When Tommy began to explain how “absolutely fucking pogchamp” Mabel and Sable from Animal Crossing were, Techno said goodbye to Tommy.  It only took him a few minutes to gather his nerve before he stood, pulling his jacket around his shoulders and grabbing his wallet. He left a sticky note on his seat, within clear view of the camera, the words “GONE TO WILBUR’S” scrawled on the pink paper. 

The walk to the cafe was less of a walk and more of a light jog. He stood with his arms crossed, a terrifying glare on his face as he waited for his coffee. He’d apologize to Wilbur for scaring off a handful of patrons, people scurrying away from him after one glance. He did suppose - or rather, he had been told that he was a touch intimidating, between the tight-laced combat boots, the worn aviator jacket, and deep purple bags beneath his eyes. 

But his (notably efficient) trip had gone unnoticed. He sat down quietly, plucking the sticky note from his seat and sipping his coffee as he wondered if perhaps it was him who would go obsolete. 

But it was on the day that Techno told him the story of Theseus that their routine dissolved. 

“Hm?” Techno barely glanced at Tommy’s words. 

Techno’s head whipped towards his screen so fast that he could feel a twinge in the base of his neck. “What?” 

“And what exactly did he promise?” Techno asked, voice urgent. “Words have power, Tommy. I need to know exactly.”

“He’s not,” sighed Techno. “And if he’s already threatening you, then we need to get ready.”

“Go get Phil.” Techno’s eyes were unreadable. 

“I’ll tell both of you. Go get him.”

Tommy saluted, but the movement was hesitant. His brows were furrowed with worry, and Techno couldn’t tell which bothered him more: DREAM’s message or Techno’s cryptic words.

He breathed out a heavy sigh, a deep-seated breath. A drop of molten metal simmered in his stomach, but it was different. He didn’t want it to be a blade to wield against the world. He didn’t want to have to fight, even though he knew that such things were inevitable with DREAM. 

No, this would be a shield, some semblance of protection for Tommy - a shield forged of words and stories, of hard-wrought lessons and painful memories. 

Techno gave him a small smile, sad and nervous all at once. “I will be.”

Phil knocked. “Hey, mate. Tommy said you needed me?” 

“Yeah,” Techno sighed. “DREAM is out to kill Tommy.”

“Oh, fuck no,” replied Phil immediately. “So we’re fighting. No chance we’re just going to let Tommy go.” 

“Of course not,” scoffed Techno, cockiness entering his voice for a moment before it was replaced by a note of worry. “But there’s something I haven’t told you. Either of you.” 

Tommy blinked. In the background, more characters began to flicker in and out of existence, as though he was nervous.

“I-- I’ve coded other AIs before.” 

“Mate, that’s not news to me,” Phil said, his voice gentle. 

Techno chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Phil reached out a hand to rest it gently on Techno’s shoulder, a comforting grounding energy next to him. “Take your time.” 

“I know, it’s just… you need to know this.” Techno shook his head, sighing heavily. “Tommy, your code is based on the code for an AI I developed about a year ago. But that AI, it-- he wasn’t like you.” 

Tommy’s brow furrowed, a look of confusion flashing across his face. 

“Tommy, what is your purpose?” 

The words appeared onscreen without a second thought. They had been written into the code, but they had been written into comments - Tommy shouldn’t have been able to parse them, unless he was aware of inactive code or he had developed the thought independently. Techno tucked the thought away for later, pursing his lips slightly. 

“You’ve learned, Tommy. You’ve learned empathy and respect for humanity. Not all AIs do.” 

“Techno, you don’t mean--”

“Phil, please.” Techno interrupted Phil before he could finish his sentence. “I need to say this.” 

Phil nodded, falling silent. 

Tommy gnawed on his lip, running a hand through his hair in a familiar motion - one picked up from either Wilbur or Techno. 

“I’m the one who coded XD.” 

The words fell from his lips into silence. Even though Phil had been expecting it, it didn’t make it any easier to hear. Tommy blinked, clearly still trying to make sense of the implications. 

“I had this same idea almost a year ago - an AI that could solve problems before they existed,” Techno said, pushing through the silence that rested heavy on his chest, feeling as though the words were stuck in his throat. “It was called the Extended Discernment System, before it got shortened to XD. There weren’t as many restrictions then. It was easier. And when I finished, I immediately let it loose to explore the city.” 

“And then it destroyed buildings.” Techno stared at the ground, vision caught in old memories, looking at things that were no longer there. “Detonated reactors and power lines, brought down every external connection. It was trying to figure out how to crash a satellite into L’Manburg when the government stepped in.” 

“You vanished for a week around that time, didn’t you?” The memory popped into Phil’s mind. “No one knew where you went. Your computer and notes were gone, like you’d never worked here at all.” 

Techno nodded. “I was in government confinement. They took my things, scraped my notes raw to try and understand it.”

“But they stopped XD,” Phil said, brow furrowing. 

“No,” Techno said, inhaling sharply. “They took it away and turned it into something else.”

“DREAM,” Techno confirmed, voice hardly more than a whisper. 

“So that’s how you were able to build Tommy so fast. You already had the foundation developed, it just needed fine tuning.” Phil blinked hard, thoughts clearly swirling. 

“You knew I helped shut down XD,” Phil said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“When they took it away from me, do you know what the first thing I felt was? Relief.” Techno’s voice cracked. “Relief that I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore, relief that I wouldn’t be inundated in bloodshed and destruction.”

“Techno…” Phil started. 

“No, Phil. The government weaponized something I had designed to do good, and I ran.” Techno spat the word with venom, the same rage humming through his veins. 

“But this isn’t the same fight, Techno. This is something more advanced, and all it’s going to do is get you killed,” Phil said. “We’ve seen the accidents. You know what DREAM is capable of.” 

“I’m not running, Phil. I can’t.” Techno’s voice was almost pained. “I swore I would never run again. I’m facing this one head on.” 

The word appeared on screen, and Techno sighed, looking towards Tommy. The boy, for his part, was chewing on his lip, running a hand through his hair over and over.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, Tommy. This is my fight just as much as it is yours,” Techno argued. 

“XD has killed people. DREAM has killed people.” Techno breathed hard, chest rising despite the pain in his lungs. “They… they haunted me, for a long time. I could hear them screaming, listening to their deaths over and over again. I thought I was damned to listen to the whispers of DREAM’s influence, knowing that I was responsible. If I could have the chance, I just--” His voice cracked again, jaw clamping down to try and ward off the emotion that threatened to choke off his voice. “I just wanted to do something good.” 

“You are. And I’ll fight for you.”

“Nope,” Techno said, smiling sharply despite the shine on his eyes. 

“Then I’m with you,” Phil said, slinging an arm around Techno’s shoulders. 

“Don’t do this for me,” Techno said, shaking his head even as he leaned into Phil’s touch. “Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.” 

“This is my fight too,” Phil said, smiling. “Besides, someone’s got to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” 

“Two parts,” Techno said. “Tommy, you’ll have to hold off DREAM in the virtual space while Phil and I find the servers. They’ve got to be somewhere in L’Manburg.” 

“How do you know?” Phil’s brow furrowed. “They could have been moved. Those servers could be anywhere in the world.” 

“For that to happen, DREAM would have needed to have been offline while the system was being transported,” Techno explained. “DREAM hasn’t been offline for more than a minute the entire time.” 

Phil whistled. “Not enough time for transport. The hardware has to be somewhere in L’Manburg.” 

“There has to be. Phil, we’ll need to be ready for anything.” 

Phil nodded. “If we’re going after DREAM, will there be people coming after us?” 

Techno sucked in air through his teeth. “Probably.”  

“Tommy, can you warn Wilbur?” 

“Go. Warn Wilbur and then find DREAM. We’ll find his admin.”

Tommy saluted, practically falling sideways offscreen as he made his way elsewhere. 

Techno’s fingers danced across the screen before Tommy had even left the screen. “I’m going to start running a search on the city. Find the building that’s taking in enough energy to house the servers, then narrow it down from there.” 

“Techno, there’s something we haven’t considered yet.” 

Techno ran a hand through his hair, lips puffing out in a heavy breath as he typed. “What is it, Phil?” 

“Techno.” 

Something in Phil’s voice caught Techno’s attention. He turned, keyboard falling silent as he looked at the older man. 

“If it comes down to Tommy or us--” Phil took a deep breath. “Do we kill him?” 

“Phil, it won’t come to that,” Techno said, voice pained. 

“But it might,” argued Phil. 

“Don’t ask me to choose,” Techno murmured. 

“Why?” Phil was quick to challenge him. 

Techno stared at him defiantly. His silence was answer enough. 

(Through meters of cable and the whisperings of pure electricity, the same words echoed through Tommy’s mind, a humming of concern that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling.)

Techno’s computer pinged. “We have a hit.” 

Phil leaned past Techno to look at the location marker that flashed on his screen. “Go. I have an old friend I need to exchange some words with.” 

Techno raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll find out later,” Phil said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Go.” 

The two of them exchanged a nod before Techno left. The last thing he heard as he strode out of his office was Phil’s voice. “Hey mate. It’s been a while, but I need to ask you for a favor. Do you remember--” 

Techno’s fingers typed rapidly on his phone, hands uncoordinated as he tried to maneuver his way through the streets to the now-marked location on his map. His gaze flicked up from the screen towards the cameras, which seemed to follow him as he walked. He let out a heavy sigh, breath shaking slightly. The screen suddenly went dark, and Techno fought the urge to toss his phone to the ground. 

The frustration lasted only for a moment as Tommy’s face appeared, words scrolling across the bottom of the screen. 

“I was using that,” Techno hissed. 

Tommy smiled cockily. 

“Remind me to update your language settings. I’m not sure that was proper English.”

Techno rolled his eyes.

“Is that a question or a statement?” 

“I see,” said Techno, voice tightening in concern. “Send it through. You, go find DREAM.” 

“Technoblade, the next time I see you, I’m going to murder you.” 

“Wilbur, I--” 

“If this is what you’ve been warning me about, you need to tell me exactly what the fuck we’re dealing with.”

“Wil--”

“Now, Technoblade.” 

Techno sighed. “What’s happening over there?” 

“Nothing.”

“So…”

“I can’t help but find it the slightest bit suspicious that the city seems so calm while Tommy tells me you and Phil know otherwise.”

“I know, we should have told you--”

“Damn fucking right.”

“--but there’s not much you could have done.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Technoblade.” There was something dangerous in Wilbur’s voice, a steel undercurrent that Techno had never heard before. “I’m capable of far more than you think.” 

“I know you are, Wilbur. But you shouldn’t have to be.” Techno sighed. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” 

“Techno--”

“I’m sorry.” 

Techno hung up without another word, leaving Wilbur to wonder what was to come. He looked up at the building, the way that the translucent blue seemed to glow almost green in the afternoon light. 

This battle was his to win, but Tommy would have to win the war. 

Tommy was on a battlefield of his own. It was indescribable, understandable only to those who made their home on the technological planes of existence. Humans understood what it was to have energy humming through their veins - they had blood where Tommy had electricity - but the five senses couldn’t compare to millions of inputs, all being processed. 

DREAM was easy to find. The energy that existed around them seemed to fade in comparison to DREAM’s mere presence, and his words seemed to reverberate through Tommy’s very existence. 

Tommy’s system hummed, breathing in the pure information that surrounded DREAM. 

Techno’s footsteps echoed on the tiles. It felt like a liminal space - the sun didn’t dare peer through the windows. Electrical lights buzzed overhead, filling his ears. Despite the clean exterior, the building was empty.

Abandoned. 

Techno’s eyes scanned his surroundings, catching on the wires that trailed along the ceiling. He stepped forward, following the bundle of wires - slowly at first, then faster and faster through a maze of hallways until he was met with a door. The wires jumped upwards, up into the ceiling. Techno rested his hand on the handle, taking a deep breath 

This was it. 

He jerked the door open, stepping into the darkness behind it. The walls were hidden behind layers of wires and screens. Scraps of technology were crammed into every corner. Cables twisted around each other, tracing along the floors and up the walls until Techno couldn’t help the feeling that he was standing inside a mechanical tree. 

The only surface open was a desk in the center, triple monitors obscured by a figure seated with his back to the door. 

“Good afternoon, Technoblade. Our mutual friend told me you’d be heading my way.” His voice was smooth, English accent wrapping around the words. It felt like a cruel twist of Wilbur’s voice, in some way. 

The door fell shut behind Techno, eliminating any light from behind him. “You’re DREAM’s admin, aren’t you?” 

“Be careful what you look for, or you might find it,” the man said in a sing-song voice. “My name is George.” 

“I suppose you wouldn’t just shut DREAM down at my request, would you?” Techno stepped forward. 

The other turned, revealing tired eyes beneath messy brown hair. His skin seemed otherworldly pale beneath the blue light of countless flickering lights, scrolling code behind him in constant motion. “No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Then answer me this. Why are you doing this?” 

George blinked. “Why, Technoblade, you of all people ought to know the answer to that question. Tommy is your family, is he not?” 

“Yeah, but he’s also not… on a murderous rampage,” Techno said, voice monotone. 

“DREAM is having a moment.” George rolled his eyes, as though this was a familiar argument. “But he’s my family. I’ll protect him all the same.” 

“You’d let people die for him?” Techno whispered. 

“You’d do the same,” George replied. “You will.” 

The room flashed red. Techno’s heart leaped in his chest as he recognized the color that Tommy had come to love, words flashing on the screen. 

George hissed in frustration, rapidly typing a few lines.

Tommy’s words stopped, the screens returning to their pale blue. 

“Tommy!” Techno cried, before turning to George. “What did you do to him?” 

“Just some necessary precautions,” George said lightly. “He won’t be interrupting us again.” 

Techno let out a growl, something low, almost inhuman. 

“As I was saying,” George said, a note of frustration at Tommy’s interruption coloring his tone, “I’m offering you an ultimatum, Technoblade.” 

George tapped a few buttons. On one of the main displays, a camera feed appeared. 

A man sat in a coffee shop, black hair messy, tired eyes tracking something behind the camera. His clean-cut black leather jacket seemed to blend in with the worn leather chair, a scarlet hood visible behind tanned skin. He was the picture of relaxation, scarred hands wrapped around a coffee mug, but Techno’s instinct screamed. 

“I hear this barista makes an amazing dark roast.” George reached out, holding down a button. “Sapnap, why don’t you give us a wave?” 

The man’s eyes flicked to the camera. He smiled, a cruel thing, raising his coffee mug in a silent salute. 

“I think you should get some sugar for your coffee,” George suggested with a slight smile.

The man-- Sapnap inclined his head slightly, setting down the mug just next to the camera. He stood, flicking out his jacket as he turned. For just a heartbeat, the outline of a gun was visible in his hoodie. In only a few strides, he caught the barista’s attention. Techno’s heart sank as the barista turned, revealing Wilbur’s familiar smile. 

Techno could only watch as Wilbur spoke to the other man, adjusting the sleeves of his jumper as he pointed to where the sugar packets were. Sapnap ducked his head apologetically, laughing about something. Wilbur’s smile widened into something more genuine as he waved off the other man’s apology. Sapnap snagged a couple sugar packets before walking back to the camera, settling into the worn chair again as his smile sharpened.

“No,” Techno whispered. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t want to know how far I’ll go for him,” hissed George. The brunette was still smiling, but all traces of warmth were gone, leaving only a cold shell. “So now it’s time to choose.” 

“Choose?” Techno choked the word out.

“You could walk away right now. Go back to your life, and just let DREAM do what he wants.” 

“DREAM wants to kill off a decent portion of the city, and you want to just let that happen?” His voice rose. “Are you even hearing yourself?” 

George sighed. “It’s not that simple.” 

“It is,” Techno spat.

“Then your choice should be simple too. Let DREAM handle Tommy and L’Manburg, or watch your friend die.” 

“And why shouldn’t I just kill you here?” Techno’s hands curled into fists. 

George laughed. “Like you would.” 

“You don’t want to know how far I’ll go for him,” Techno said, leaning forward. 

“Perhaps I misjudged you.” Something in George’s gaze shifted. “But it wouldn’t matter either way. Sapnap has been instructed to move if he doesn’t hear from me in the next thirty seconds.” 

“Thirty seconds?” Techno hissed, rearing back. 

“Like you said, it’s simple,” George said, holding up his hands as though he wasn’t to blame. 

Techno blinked, mind swirling, slamming against every wall it could find in some attempt to find a solution. The same voices that had screamed for so long cried out again, wishing that there was something that could be done. 

Save Wilbur. Save Wilbur. Save Wilbur. 

(The decision had already been made long ago.) 

Techno pressed the base of his palms into his eyes, hating himself even as the words left his mouth. “Tommy. I pick Tommy.”

Tommy’s words flashed across screen, blinking in and out of existence as he fought against George’s security system. 

“Tommy, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t build you to save someone,” Techno whispered. “I built you so you could save everyone.”

Tommy didn’t respond. Techno couldn’t tell if it was anger, pain, or George’s security systems leaping into activation. 

George blinked, eyes shifting in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Do not dare to open your mouth right now,” Techno spat, venom lacing his voice for only a moment b

“Fine. I’ll do something more… actionable.” George shrugged. “Sapnap, go ahead. Oh, and turn on the mic. We’d like to hear this.” 

“George, don’t do this.” 

Techno’s pleas fell on deaf ears, and George simply smiled serenely, eyes blank despite what he knew was about to happen. “You could have stopped this, Techno. You could have chosen something else.” 

Hidden speakers crackled as Sapnap moved in the cafe, so close and yet impossibly far away. Techno jolted as Wilbur’s voice sounded, a pang through his heart as the weight on his shoulders pushed down harder.

“You’re with DREAM, aren’t you?” 

“You’re clever,” said a low voice, southern accent wrapping around the words. 

Wilbur laughed, a slightly panicked sound as he clutched a chef’s knife in one hand. “Why don’t you get a little closer? I’m really clever.” 

Techno flinched as a sharp bang sounded, jolting backwards. There was no need to ask what the sound was. He knew what death sounded like.

George hummed, seemingly unbothered by the horror that had occurred. 

His machinery disagreed. His desktop hummed, but it wasn't the same peaceful sound it had been before.  Outlets sparked, sending sparks scattering across coils of wires. Every port on every device crackled. This was electricity - the purest form of energy come alive, and it was angry. Every screen flashed a blinding red, Tommy’s font appearing, repeating a single word over and over, howling his pain into the virtual void in the only way he knew how.

George stood up sharply, his chair tipping over behind him. His face, which had seemed so pale beneath cool blue and white, now looked almost ghostly in the red light. He stepped forward, reaching for his machinery, but Techno landed a punch across his face before he could even brush a finger across his keyboard. 

George fell silently, and Techno wished that it felt like retribution. 

“Tommy, calm down!” Techno cried. “We’re not done yet.” 

“You’re angry, and I accept that,” Techno said, holding his hands up in an appeasing gesture, even though he wasn’t sure if Tommy could even see him. 

“Yeah, and you’re alive,” Techno spat. 

“I told you that you’d have to choose one day.” Techno ran a hand down his face. “But today, I made that decision. I choose to bear the burden of Wilbur’s death so you don’t have to.” 

Despite the harsh words, the room began to quiet. Sparks cooled into the concrete, wires stilling until all that was left was a strange creaking, pipes rattling in the concrete and creating an inhuman wail. 

Crying. 

This was the sound of technology mourning. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“You’ll learn eventually,” Techno whispered. 

Techno smiled, but it was pained. “Can survivor’s guilt pass when what happened actually was your fault?” 

“I know.” 

> Are you going to stop me?

“Could I stop you, even if I wanted to?” Techno smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’ll change you.” 

Techno faintly registered the sound of sirens wailing. “I need to go tell Phil what happened. He deserves to hear it from me.” 

He nodded. 

(He wondered if this was forgiveness.)

Everything in Techno wanted to run, but he knew that would only draw more attention to himself. He walked as quickly as he could back to the office, heart racing in his throat. It was impossible to tell which was worse: the death he had allowed to happen, or the threat of what was to come. 

Thankfully, Phil was waiting for him. “Techno. Did you find the admin, mate?” 

“Doesn’t the lab on the floor below us have a Faraday cage?” Techno said.

“Techno,” Phil said, voice dangerous. “What happened?” 

“Please, Phil.” Something in Techno’s voice made Phil take a step back. 

“Yeah, the researchers finished it a couple months ago,” he said. His tone had gone deceptively calm, a tone Techno hadn’t heard him take in years. 

“Leave your phone,” Techno muttered, tossing his own onto the desk.

Phil’s brow furrowed in concern as he followed Techno. Techno’s shoulders were tight, hands jammed into his pockets. He held the door to the cage open for only a moment, pulling it shut behind Phil. He slumped as soon as the latch closed behind him, curling in on himself. 

“Mate, are you going to tell me what this is about?” 

“I’m sorry,” Techno sighed. “I just needed to be sure. They can’t hear us in here.” 

Phil nodded, lips tight. “DREAM and Tommy are playing with the same hand of cards. I get it.” 

“Wilbur, he--” Techno’s voice caught in his throat. “He’s dead, Phil.” 

“He’s… what?” Phil’s voice cracked.

“He’s gone.” Techno looked down, not able to look Phil in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for, mate?” Phil breathed in deeply, tilting his head back.

“It’s my fault,” Techno whispered.

“No it’s not,” Phil replied, head falling back forward. “It’s DREAM’s fault.” 

“No, I chose--” 

Phil cut him off. “DREAM is the one who put us in this situation.”

“Yeah, and I coded DREAM. I dragged Wilbur into this entire mess,” Techno shot back.

“Techno, look at me.” 

Techno looked up slowly. Phil’s gaze was hard, blue eyes intent on a purpose Techno wasn’t sure he understood. 

“You wanted to do a good thing, Techno,” Phil said quietly. 

“But I’m not a good person,” Techno whispered. 

“Maybe there’s no such thing as good people. Maybe there are only good decisions.”

Techno sighed. “Maybe.” 

“Come on, mate. We’ve got a city to save.” 

“Take a moment, Phil,” Techno said, almost carefully.

“I’ll cry when the battle is over,” Phil said, heaving a sigh. His eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat before snapping open, something burning inside. “There will be a time to mourn later.” 

Techno looked at Phil, the man he had come to know and trust. Something had shifted in the world: it had changed him, and it had changed Phil too - irreversibly and irrevocably. 

“What’s the plan?” 

Phil pulled back his hair, tying it into a low ponytail as his mind turned over possibilities. “I think we have to go in and disable the electric plant. Fuck up the hardware, and DREAM won’t be able to do anything.” 

“DREAM will still be active,” Techno warned. “Even if you take out the city’s electricity, DREAM is on his own system of generators.” 

“True,” admitted Phil. “But so is Tommy.” 

“Heh?” Techno blinked. “When did that happen?” 

Phil waved a hand carelessly. “I had a friend with some extra generators, so I brought them by. Hooked up Tommy’s servers to them when shit started to hit the fan.” 

“What kind of friends do you have, old man?” Techno smiled slightly, caught somewhere between shock and amusement. 

“Useful ones,” Phil said. Something lingered in his voice that Techno wasn’t sure he recognized. It made him almost nervous - like this wasn’t the Phil he had come to know and care for.

“Going in there-- it’s a suicide mission. There’s no guarantee I’d make it out before the plant blows.” Techno furrowed his brow. 

“You?” The corner of Phil’s lip pulled upwards into a slight smile, somehow caught between confident and mournful all at once. “Who said anything about you going in?” 

The realization clicked. “Phil, no. Don’t do this. Let me--”

“Techno, you have so much more good to do in the world. Don’t risk it here.” 

“You could die, Phil.” 

“I know.” Phil’s eyes burned, but it was a cold fire, tinged with sadness despite the anger. “But I believe in you, Techno. And I believe in Tommy, that he’ll hold off DREAM for long enough for me to get through.”

“You can’t throw away your life because I can’t--” Techno’s voice caught. “I don’t know how to do this without you.” 

Phil’s voice went sharp. “I am not throwing away my life. Dying is no honor, but there is a valor in defending people from the threats they don’t even know about. There is dignity in protecting their lives.” 

“Phil, please.” 

“Techno.” Phil’s voice softened again, gentle as he looked towards the man who had started this, whom he had worked alongside for so long. “You love Tommy. He’s your brother.” 

Techno looked up, eyes wild and sad. “I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to,” whispered Phil. He smiled again, a grin spreading across his face despite everything. “What a hell of an adventure.” 

“You’re still smiling, despite everything?” Techno huffed out a slight chuckle. 

“I’ve been in hundreds of fights, mate.” Phil’s smile only grew. “I’ve watched men face their deaths with laughter and tears. They all died, but those who smiled seemed to have a bit of an easier go at it.” 

“Go.” There were a million things Techno wanted to say - questions, apologies, promises, thanks - all of them caught in his throat as he looked at Phil. His eyes darted across his face, trying to memorize every detail, just in case, just in case, just in case.

Phil nodded, eyes full of something Techno couldn’t begin to describe, before he turned and strode out the door, intent on his new mission. 

Techno paused for a moment, blinking back any traces of emotions before he left the cage as well. 

There will be a time to mourn when the battle is over.

He made his way to the battlefield of his own making, sitting down in his chair - a man who was doomed to survive. His monitors flicked to life, Tommy’s brow furrowing in worry as he looked at Techno.

“I’m alright, Toms,” Techno said, trying for a smile. “Just tired.” 

“He ran back to his apartment. He wanted to shower and change. It’s been a rough couple hours.” 

Lying to Tommy hurt. But it was too much of a risk. It was a matter of minutes - the electric plant was only a few blocks away, and Techno didn’t doubt that Phil could break in in a heartbeat. After all, the older man had a strange collection of skills that Techno had simply never questioned; now, they were coming in handy. 

All three of his monitors flicked green for the blink of an eye, Tommy’s face contorting as the neon light threatened to overwhelm him. 

“I know, Tommy, I know.” Techno’s fingers flew across the keyboard, trying to raise every wall, every shield he had against the incoming onslaught. 

It didn’t work. Techno jerked his hands off the keyboard as the LEDs flashed neon green, screens overwhelmed with the blinding light. It lasted for only a few heartbeats, Techno’s hands flying to cover his eyes. When it faded, there was a message waiting on the screen opposite to where Tommy was, hands rubbing his eyes as though he too had been blinded. 

Techno gritted his teeth. “DREAM.” 

“This isn’t your home, DREAM. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

“Shut up,” Techno muttered, even as the words sank their claws into a cursed truth he had never been able to negate. 

Techno blinked, having not anticipated such venom from Tommy, even with his inclination towards swearing. “Tommy, it’s okay.” 

DREAM’s words glitched on the screen, a technological laughter that Techno didn’t quite understand. 

“Shut up,” Techno repeated, painfully aware of how useless his words were. 

“Or what?”

A chill dropped down Techno’s spine. By now, Phil had likely made his way into the heart of the electrical systems, surrounded by so much energy: powerful and dangerous, just like DREAM, just like Phil, just like Tommy. 

“Don’t you dare,” hissed Techno.

“No,” Techno shot back immediately. “That’s not an option.”

“It’s not okay, Tommy.” Techno clenched his jaw, teeth gritting down as his mind slammed against the confines of his circumstances, trying to find a way out. 

“DREAM, you don’t have to do this.” The words tumbled out of Techno’s mouth, some last-ditch attempt to reason with the monster of his own making. “You can still stop.” 

The air seemed to still, heartbeat echoing in his chest as Techno prayed to anything and everything that would listen for help, for mercy, for life. 

(Unfortunately, the only gods that were listening had no mercy to offer.)

((There was only death remaining.))

The ground trembled as an explosion tore through the air. The building seemed to waver, stone and metal trying to lean away from the force of destruction. He grabbed his desk, clutching onto anything as his keyboard and mouse shook in a morbid dance. His ears popped as the shockwave rocked him. Somewhere outside, he could hear windows shatter, glass scattering across polished tile floors. 

“NO!” The scream ripped itself from his throat. Techno could feel pressure rising in his chest - he couldn’t tell if it was the explosion or the knowledge of what had truly happened. 

Something burned in Techno’s chest - a last ember of hope that Phil had succeeded. The plant had exploded, yes, but the fact that the city hadn’t been completely destroyed whispered of a last success, a blood-soaked victory. 

For a heartbeat, Phil’s smile flashed across the eye of Techno’s mind. He clung onto it as Phil’s voice whispered, an echo of the man who gave-- who had given life to Tommy, who had given his life for the city, who had saved Techno from himself. 

“There will be a time to mourn later.” 

Technoblade pushed down the pain that threatened to strangle him, blinking back tears. He locked away sorrow and grief in a gilded chest, enclosing the key in thorny anger until all that was left was pure emotion: rage. 

“I have been selfless for so long. I did what I thought I had to do for the greater good.” Techno’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into the palms of his hands, knuckles pushing white against his skin as he tried to push down their trembling. “But now, it is my turn to be selfish.” 

Techno flexed his hands, resting them on his keyboard for only a moment before he began typing. Tommy could only watch as the code appeared on the screen - Tommy’s eyebrows furrowing on Techno’s left monitor, DREAM’s taunts appearing on the right. Techno barely seemed to notice either one as he focused on the center, lines of code appearing, metadata flashing before his eyes as he carved out his own solution. 

“I have played by the rules for so long,” Techno murmured, hardly registering his own words as he typed. “And all it has brought me was misery. Death. Destruction.”

Techno hummed at Tommy’s words, sparing them a slight glance. “I watched the man I could have called “brother” die in front of my very eyes, the man I respected as a friend sacrifice himself for a cause I wasn’t sure I understood.” His eyes darted across the screen, checking lines of code as popup messages appeared across the screen, modifying his solutions as new information appeared, simultaneously chipping away at a dozen problems at once. “And when I couldn’t find any answers, I coded my own solution. I crafted my own family of blood and machinery, and I am not going to let them go.” 

Techno tapped

and his computer began to whir, harder and faster. The lights from the building flickered for a moment as his server systems took priority over everything else - whatever had to happen to force DREAM out of the place he had built.

“I know.” Techno was already in motion as the words left his mouth. He jerked open one of the drawers on the desk, yanking out a heavy laptop, grimacing slightly at the dust that coated his fingers. 

“I know.” 

Techno stilled immediately, eyes darting over towards the screen. 

“No,” Techno replied immediately, ignoring the pang in his chest as the blessed lie damned truth slipped easily through his lips. 

“It’s not a lie,” Techno said, voice hoarse with pain. “I can’t do it.”

“No.” His voice was hard. “If I shut it down, I’d kill you too.”

He watched as the cursor blinked for a moment and prayed that Tommy would see reason. 

“Tommy, I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.” 

“But that’s not the only thing--” Techno raked his hands through his hair, not even flinching as his fingers caught on tangles and knots. “Someone needs to remember, Tommy.” 

“Someone has to remember the people in the coffee shop. Someone has to remember the people who lived and died. The ones who loved and laughed and cried. The people who might otherwise be forgotten. Someone has to remember their names, their stories.” Techno’s voice cracked as a breath caught in his chest. He turned towards Tommy, and for the first time, Tommy could see tears gathering in his eyes. “Someone has to remember Wilbur and Phil.”

Techno blinked as his brain danced through the code he knew so well, building a solution. He sat down hard, not even pausing as he practically slammed the keyboard down on the desk from where it had fallen earlier. 

Techno’s fingers danced across the keyboard. “He’s not going to.”

The words on screen stopped as Tommy sensed a new development, something new humming in his system as though asking him to reach out for it. Tommy turned towards something Techno couldn’t see. He reached out a hand, palm facing upwards, fingers as still as Techno has ever seen them. 

Above his palm, the same ASCII characters that made up Tommy’s hand began to appear, first one, then another - more and more until it was a flickering gem of white energy. Tommy raised his hand ever so slightly, just enough to grab it. As soon as he brushed against it, it exploded outwards to both sides, forming an ever-changing blade of code and light - a dagger perfectly sized for Tommy’s hand. 

“It’s yours,” Techno said. “It should have everything you need to kill DREAM-- or at least, knock him down long enough for me to finish the job.” 

Tommy held up the dagger, peering at the hilt. 

“It is,” Techno murmured. 

“And Phil’s name will never be forgotten.”

The blade seemed to flicker, and for a heartbeat, the word “ZEPHYRUS” appeared on the blade before blinking out of existence. 

“He was,” Techno corrected him quietly.

“I know.” Techno gave Tommy a sad smile. “I’m the one that put it there, remember?” 

“I think he wanted to know if you’d figure it out yourself.” 

“Do you understand why he made that decision?” 

“Oh, Tommy,” Techno whispered, eyes sad, even as chaos flickered beneath the surface. “Don’t you see? There’s no normal to go back to.” 

“No,” replied Techno simply. “But we might have a chance to understand the future.”

With the simple reminder, Techno blinked, suddenly becoming vividly aware of the heat that seemed to weigh down the very air as every machine, every wire and cord seemed to hum with mounting energy. He swung the backpack over his shoulder, combat boots hitting the ground as he followed Tommy’s instruction. His feet pounded down the stairs, strands of hair whipping past his face as he stumbled out of the building and onto the street.

It wasn’t any better.

The very air itself seemed to scream, as though it could feel the pain of the destruction that laid around it. The street was abandoned, only the ghosts of people remaining. Techno didn’t dare to wonder if they had run or if he bore the burdens of so many more deaths. Transformers mounted on telephone poles exploded, sending sparks scattering across cracked concrete and shattered glass. Shop signs flickered on and off; cameras mounted on telephone poles jittered and jerked. 

A flash of red caught the corner of his vision, and Techno turned and watched as red light streaked across signs, bulbs flashing red as Tommy raced towards the single green light watching from above. Red light collided with green, flashing white for a heartbeat before the green vanished. 

In a mere heartbeat, neon green light reappeared, the “D” of “Puffy’s Diner” flashing mockingly. Techno barely had time to register its presence before the blaze of red overtook it, neon green replaced with blinding white. Tommy’s light jumped towards the “OPEN” sign, the LEDs spinning angrily red, and Techno could feel Tommy’s frustration. 

Across the street, the television of a sports bar shone neon green, a simple ASCII smiley face flashing in white on the screen. The screen cut to black, and Tommy’s figure appeared, the usual white text shaded with burning red letters. He slashed wildly with the dagger, flipping it in his palm like he had been born with it in his hand. Techno watched as his mouth formed around a frustrated scream, the technology around him seeming to rattle until Techno could hear the noise emerge. The kid clamped down his jaw, gritting his teeth as he ran off screen. 

The individual letters of store signs illuminated, letters flashing one by one - first a “C”, then an “H”, soon followed by “I”, “L”, and “D”. The green light flashed faster and faster until the flickering was imperceptible, the word - “CHILD” - mocking Tommy. Techno swore he could hear Dream’s laughter in the growling of metal. Tommy mirrored Dream with a message of his own - the red light glowing in the “D”, then “I” and “C” and “K”, faster and faster, burning brighter and brighter. 

The green lights suddenly died. The red light stilled shortly after, Tommy’s confusion almost palpable. 

“UP THERE!” Techno cried, hoping that Tommy was still connected to the mic in his phone. He pointed up towards the top of one of the nearby towers, where a neon green light flickered at the very tip in the sky. It was barely perceptible from where Techno stood, hardly more than a strangely-colored star, but that was all it took for Techno’s eye to notice it. 

Tommy was in motion before the words had completely left his mouth, the red lights flashing on and off in his wake leaving spots in Techno’s eyes. He raced up the side of the skyscraper, red light dancing up the side as he pursued his target. 

Techno could only watch as the red light impacted green. The sky seemed to dim as a wave of energy exploded outwards. Every light on the building flashed, red and green scattering downwards, replaced by white when the two brushed against each other. 

“TOMMY!” Techno howled. He swung his bag around, reaching inside for the battered laptop. He balanced it carefully on one arm, pulling up his console with his free hand. 

His screen glitched, the information he had pulled up replaced by Tommy’s face. The boy looked exhausted, fatigue and adrenaline carved into his face - a weariness Techno had hoped he would never have to feel. His words appeared slower, the tiredness evident in every letter. 

Tommy’s eyes widened, hands darting up towards his throat. His mouth opened around a silent gasp, and Techno could see the pain in every movement. Every symbol in his face flickered and glitched, as though his very existence was being torn apart. 

Techno’s screen flashed blindingly green, searing his eyes. Black text appeared on it, words carved out of the very light itself. 

“What did you do?” hissed Techno. 

“I may not be a good person, but that doesn’t mean you are,” Techno spat. 

“And what is that?” 

“Goodbye, DREAM.” 

Despite everything, as Tommy’s face reappeared, hand clutching the glitching that now shook his very being, Techno was struck by a bittersweet sorrow. It should have been a good thing, to bid DREAM goodbye, and yet, he couldn’t help the pang as he watched his creation fade before his eyes.

(He hated himself for it. )

The emotion, mixed and unnamable, was gone as he looked at Tommy, who was curling in on himself in pain. 

“He is,” Techno confirmed quietly. 

Techno let out a shaky breath, kneeling on the ground to type with both hands. “Come on. Talk to me, Toms.” 

“Ayup?” 

A pang went through Techno’s heart as Tommy’s first words - finally spoken, for the first time in weeks - crackled through the speakers on Techno’s laptop. He sounds so young, Techno thought, trying to blink back tears. For all the information he processed, for all his spitfire remarks and jabs at Techno, for all the power that raced through every line of his code, Tommy was still a kid. The tiny light to the side of Techno’s webcam flickered on, Tommy peering through it.

“Come on, big man, don’t cry. Not over me.” Tommy smiled crookedly, even as he winced in pain. Green light flickered on the tips of his fingers, the virus DREAM had implanted beginning to take hold. 

“Oh, but you’re worth it,” Techno whispered, the first tear finally falling. “You’re worth everything, Tommy.” 

“I never said it before, but thank you.” 

“Don’t talk like that.” Techno ran a hand through his hair, fingers pulling carelessly at knots and tangles. “Tommy, you can’t leave me.” 

“You’ll be alright.” Tommy smiled, tinged with sadness, still trying to reassure Techno despite the light that climbed ever higher. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Techno murmured. 

“Remember me,” Tommy said simply. “And if you’re given the chance, use what we learned to do something good. Something… poggers.”

“Of course,” Techno laughed, the tears making the sound into something broken. “I’ll never forget you.” 

Tommy smiled. “I didn’t want to be an unfinished symphony, Techno.”

“And you won’t be,” Techno swore, the weight of the promise heavy on his tongue. 

“I’m scared,” Tommy admitted. He held up one hand, watching with some morbid curiosity as the green light overtook his hand, crawling up his neck. 

“I know you are, Tommy.” Techno’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”  

“I’m just glad I got to be alive. Even if it was just once.” 

“Don’t say that,” Techno pleaded, even with the accursed knowledge of what was going to happen. “You’ll make it out of this.”

“Techno.” Tommy’s voice was sad, burdened with the same knowledge. His eyes widened as the green light crept across his face. His words glitched, speakers crackling as he forced out the words. “Thank you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.”

Techno could only watch as the green light overtook every feature, every character. Tommy’s mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes widening as he was frozen in place before shattering into pure white light. Techno’s screen was overwhelmed with the brightness before switching off into nothingness.

And everything

became

still. 

The lights crackled as they flickered, slower and slower until they were left dark. The low noise of electronics screaming and metal hissing that had been rising in his ears vanished, leaving only the ringing nothingness. 

And for the first time in days, in weeks, Technoblade was left in silence.

There was no humming of machinery, the whirring of computers and servers to envelop him in a technological embrace. There were no murmurs of the people passing by his office, footsteps on tile, or the laughter of Phil and Wilbur to keep him company. There was no clicking of fingers on the keyboard, crafting a solution-- a family for him to call his own. 

The only thing that was left was Techno’s own heartbeat, pounding in his chest like it wanted to escape, the cruelest reminder that he had been left alive. 

Alone. 

“No.” The word fell from his lips, a whisper that couldn’t begin to hold the pain that laced every vein, every murmur, every heartbeat. “No, this can’t all have been for nothing.” 

Techno sat down hard, ignoring the way that dirt ground into every joint. He set his laptop on his lap, crossing his legs as he began to type. 

It was not a gentle thing. Techno’s usual elegance was gone, replaced with a desperation that raced through him. He scrabbled for the scraps of Tommy’s code, slashing at the technological vines that DREAM had wrapped around him. 

The battlefield was a familiar place to him. Techno knew all too well that the world was a violent place, and Tommy had been forced to learn the same lesson. The world had been cruel to Techno, and he had tried so hard to protect Tommy from it. 

Techno knew what it was to fight, to lose.  

But the world couldn’t afford to lose Tommy. 

If Tommy was his symphony, then this was his encore - an accursed finale. The violins rose to a crescendo, the wood of Techno’s joints creaking and crying out in pain as he swept through the music, extending the melody he had come to know and love. Perhaps he could understand Wilbur, who had played guitar until his fingertips were worn and bloody, a sacrifice to create beauty from the quiet, pulling the greatest good Techno would ever be capable of from the void of nothingness.

He crafted and sculpted and hoped that it would be enough

“Yes,” Techno whispered, typing the letter as he did. “Please.” 

His heart pounded in his chest as his computer hummed. 

Please.

“Techno?” 

His heart jolted, the beat stuttering as Tommy’s voice crackled to life, quiet and hesitant.

“Tommy,” Techno almost sobbed. “Toms, I’m so sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Tommy’s face appeared, one character at a time, the ASCII spinning and flickering until it finally settled into the right symbol. He stared out with wide eyes, Techno’s webcam faintly blinking to life. 

“But I do,” Techno protested weakly. “All of this, it’s my fault.” 

“If it’s your fault, then it’s mine. We did this together.” Tommy’s voice was hesitant. “I don’t know if that makes us the good guys or the bad guys.” 

“I don’t know either,” Techno admitted. “But in either case, we can’t do this again.”

“I know.” His eyes were sad, the weight of what he had (or more accurately, hadn’t) survived etched onto his face. “I can’t let anything hurt you again” 

“And I can’t let anyone use you ever again.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed. “So what does that mean, exactly.”

“Only you choose what you do from now on.” Techno’s whisper was almost silent, so much so that he wasn’t sure if Tommy could even hear him. “You’re free, Toms.” 

“I get to choose?” He looked at Techno, smiling slightly at his nod of approval. “Then Techno, I’ll protect you.” 

“You don’t have to do that. Your life will be hard enough as is, hiding away in the code of the city,” Techno said. 

“I know,” Tommy replied simply. “But there’s no chance you’re getting rid of me that easily. I can protect you now.”