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Consciousness eased into him. Something he didn't even really know was happening until his eyes were opening themselves. He was surprised at the lack of pain in his body, the exhaustion that had been clinging to him for so long had also seemed to finally let him go.
Looking around didn't yield anything, white as far as he could see in all directions. It didn't burn his eyes, in fact the white seem to bend into soft shades of color but once he tried to focus on it the white would gain solidly again. He made a game over trying to pick out the slight colors before they would slip away.
Light blues faded to lilac, to orangish, to pink..
The thought of where he was floated through his mind, like calm waves on a beach, and he almost let it slip in favor of trying to see if that was green he could see.
But he should probably think more about where he was.
But he wasn't in pain anymore, he could breath easy on his own..
But where was his family?
Oh that was a problem, they were probably worried about him now. They've been worried about him for so long, he should let them know he isn't in pain any longer. Where were they?
Memories flickered into his mind, little glimpses before they would go dull or flicker away. He worked to focus on them, and almost wished he hadn't as the memories all cam spirling back to him.
He was dead.
Tears pricked his eyes, they got to say goodbye, that was important. He wrote his words..
He felt sorrow build up in his chest, then it gently washed away. It confused him as he remembered his life in muted emotions.
Looking down at himself he saw the body he remembered before all this happened, though possibly cleaner. He was dressed in one of his comfortable outfits, nothing fancy, and not some regal outfit everyone seemed to wear whenever they died in movies.
Was he in heaven? He didn't believe in a God or higher power, but there seemed to be something here after death.
He wondered if he should try to call out, but he didn't want to disturb this peace. Everything was calm, it was quiet. There wasn't anything attached to him, or crowding him and his thoughts. He could even think fairly clearing! The pain, the horrible heavy exhaustion were finally, blissfully, absent.
Relief flooded him suddenly.
It was over. His battle was over, and his family despite this painful loss would no longer be on edge about his condition.
He had gotten to meet his friends, some that lived oceans away. He had financially secured his family. He had helped, or so he hoped, millions of people.
His fans..
He is so happy he wrote those paragraphs when he did, he is frustrated with himself, the feeling again muted gently, for not writing it sooner, for not making a video sooner. But it was over now. At least he has written something.
It wasn't all that he ever wanted to say to them all, he could never fit all the gratitude he would want to covey into words, but it would hopefully be enough. He hoped they would continue watching the others, that everyone else could help his fans through this.
He let the feelings and thoughts gently pass over him, damped as they were. It felt good to just be able to relax there, nothing there to disturb him, he was just able to breath and to be.
He isn't sure how much time slips from him as he finally get to relax, isn't sure if time is still a thing where he is, contentment has settled over him like a blanket as he let's himself stay wrapped up in it.
Something like a TV screen flickers to life in front of him, yet doesn't break the soothing rhythm he has found.
He sees his dad holding floof. His dad starts talking and the video he is clearly seeing seems like a fever dream. The words he wrote being spoken and the news and some details about what happened are being shared. He feels oddly detached to it, his emotions spike up past the calm level they were held at by it isn't drowning or unpleasant.
Once the video ends posts from different places start popping up, long paragraphs about grief and stories of how his videos have helped people, flashes of people crying, sobbing, some along some being held by people. Some videos play but he can't seem to catch all of it before it moves on to the next piece of media, the next person, all the grief piling on and he can feel it, he feels the sorrow of his fans but can't help them, can't reach out. And yet he sees a phrase that keeps repeating like a mantra through the bits and pieces that flash by, sometimes the words whispered, through cletched teeth and sobs sometimes they are screamed, the fonts change and where they are in the post are different, but with those words he also find he feels something else come off of every one of his fans. Following the words 'Technoblade Never Dies' he can feel the love they have for him.
He feels all the care wash over him in waves, overwhelming the sorrow that still is mixed in. It seems unreal, it feels like there couldn't be this much love in the world, and much less for one person. For him.
It crashes over him in waves and he barely feels as tears fall down.
All his fans have already done so much for him and yet here they are again. It pauses on them for a minute, returning to hid family and how they are, the grief, relief, and love overwhelm him again but this time from just his family, soon his online friends join in and he sits there and watches and hopes his care reaches them as well.
His followers start to leek back in but after they mostly take over the emotions start to be dulled down again. The overwhelming care still rushes over him but now it simply fills him with the warm glow of being cared for.
The flickering of the screen changing between the people and the media posts start to fade into the back of his mind as his eyes zone away somewhere else. The white seems to let the colors in now, the plain white around him fading into random smudges of color that don't seem to have any distinctive shapes but makes him feel homey and free at the same time.
Contentment curls back into his bones, the relief and breath taking joy at being able to move however he wants with nothing holding him back and no pain flowing through his muscles. Warm breeze flows gently through hair he can feel on his head, and oh how he missed that feeling. The gently wind brushes along his limbs and neck, it gently moves his clothes around. It makes him feel alive.
His eyes slowly close but the peaceful colors stay in his minds eye. The love from everyone flows through his veins, and he knows they will all be okay.
He doesn't feel or notice as his consciousness starts to fade away. He is all painless love and relief and joy as he gently ebbs away, a gently drop in pond, disappearing with the ripples.
Even as his conscious fades however, he remains alive. For he has inspired and led and saved so many that he could not really be gone so quickly. For no matter what name or shape he may go by to the person, for all he has done for all of us, Technoblade Never Dies.