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The corpses of the bandits that had ambushed the two men lay around them. It had been sudden, Techno and Phil had been walking to try and get to the next village where there might be something for them to do when they had descended, trying to get one up on the men.
Even with the advantage of surprise, they were outskilled and outmatched, quickly falling to Phil and Techno's blades. Despite this, it didn't mean the bandits couldn't get lucky, as evidenced by the gaping hole in Phil's chest where a sword had impaled him, gushing blood furiously. Techno had dropped to his knees beside his fallen friend, applying pressure as a futile attempt to try and stop the bleeding.
"Phil, we promised. You and me against the world," Technoblade's voice cracked on the last word. "How can it be us versus everyone else if you're gone, old man?"
Phil gave a small, sad, smile, blood staining his teeth a diluted red as his face rapidly paled from blood loss. "You'll be fine, Techno. You'll keep going on. Technoblade never dies, after all."
"Phil! You can't do this! Hold on just a lil' longer and you can have a health potion!"
Phil just smiled, his hands shakily rising to push Techno's off of his chest. His eyes were already going glassy and his breath slowing down, each inhale seemingly taking an extraordinary amount of effort. "Promise me something, Techno. Look after Will for me. Look after yourself."
"No, you're going to make it so you ensure that happens."
"Techno," Phil wheezed. "Promise me."
A single tear ran down Technoblade's cheek. "I promise," he whispered softly.
Phil gave a slow nod at his words, his breath coming out even more laboured with the gushing blood starting to slow down. His wheezes brought no comfort to Techno that he was alive, he knew it was borrowed time. Phil started coughing violently, his eyes drooping as he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry for Tommy."
Then there was silence.
No breathing or coughing could be heard from Phil. His eyes, normally so full of life and joy, were now glassy and unseeing. Techno let out a choked roar of pain and despair. Tears that he didn't bother to try and wipe away kept streaming down his face.
He stumbled back from the body (
corpse,
a cruel voice in the back of his mind whispered,
it's a corpse
), looking around, not knowing what to do. For the first time in a long time, since the arena,
(
since Tommy,
the voice whispered again)
Technoblade felt helpless. He looked up at the clear, blue sky and wasn't sure if he wanted to scream, cry, laugh or maybe all three. His best friend was dead, and the sun was blinding. His best friend was dead and the very thing that signifies joy in life dared to keep shining. His best friend was dead.
Techno pulled himself together, walked a bit away and began to dig a hole. Six feet long, six feet deep, he thought to himself. With tense arms and stuttered breaths, he dug until the sun started to set in the endless horizon. He walked back over to Phil's body, picking him up gently before setting him carefully down in the ground. A few more minutes, and nothing signified that there had been a body or a hole except for the rectangle that indicated disturbed dirt.
Once he was done, he wiped his hands off on his cloak, successfully clearing the dirt and failing to clear the guilt that remained. He looked once more at the site of his friend's body, before turning away and starting to walk. As he walked into the distant horizon, meeting the sun where it meets the land as it sets, casting the world in its orange hues, the Blood God didn't turn back.