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    Summary

    The man straightened with a groan, stretching out his wings behind him carefully enough that none of his detailed sketches were disturbed, before he drew his torch across his work. Very carefully transcribed runes, or what was left of them now, cross referenced with different letters in a language Techno could barely read anymore, but he knew translated into a very specific set of instructions.

    The Historian chuckled lowly to himself, rubbing at his chin with one hand before he brought it over his face instead. "Now this- well, this just looks like trouble. You're not some kind of demon disguising themself as a God, are you now? That'd be pretty inconvenient for me."

    Techno suddenly found the energy to project his indigence at the man, making him laugh again, this time loud enough to send Techno's mice and birds scattering with alarm.

    "Alright. Let's do this, I guess."

    - Phil finds a temple to a dying God, and refuses to let that be the end of them. Technoblade is very grateful.

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