Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Techno wished people would understand that he vowed never to turn to violence again. He was retired! A changed man! Violence had never done him any good in the past; he realized that, and he just wanted to continue living with his new bee farm and his turtles peacefully.

He was even planning to start a potato farm today! But no, the damn Butcher Army or whatever they call themselves just had to put a bounty on his head. 

He remembered how it felt like cold water got dumped on his head when his communicator pinged with a message from Phil. He was fixing some of the paintings on his wall, casually putting them back together so his wall would look less boring.

They know where you are. Get ready, old friend.

He started spamming Phil immediately with questions, asking who “ they ” were and a bunch of question marks. It took exactly 2 minutes for Phil to respond, not like Techno was counting, but the message didn’t answer his question.

They found the compass.

Techno read that message…and it just…didn’t feel real.

He gave that compass to Phil so that he would always know where to find him. Techno said it himself; he would fight the world for Phil. He didn’t want to just sit around in his little cabin if his friend was in danger. He would never let that happen. He made sure Phil understood that. 

But then how did someone get the compass? Did they attack Phil? Rob him? Phil barely had any enemies; who would even do that? 

Techno put down his communicator, hearing it ping again, but he ignored it. He needed to prepare.

He climbed down into his basement and instantly rummaged through his chests for netherwart, blaze powder, and magma cream. He needed to make as many strength potions as possible. He would also need speed, regeneration, definitely some turtle master potions, and maybe fire resistance…

To his surprise, his chests were full of junk. He never realized how all his fighting items have just magically disappeared since he retired. Like he has gone soft…



Softnoblade

WHERE ARE THE FIREWORKS???

We are so screwed.

E

HEH

Yeah, this is so over.

The voices were screaming in his head in confusion, some of them demanding for him to do things. He ignored them as usual in these situations.

He sharpened all of his weapons while the potions brewed; he was taking no risks today. Techno made sure none of his weapons were close to breaking and checked over his armor. Junk items he had no use for were thrown out of his chests in search of his old weapons he put away for what he thought was for good. He put around a stack of gapples into his satchel from his ender chest and hesitated when he saw his two Totems of Undying.

He didn’t think he would ever have the need to use them now that he was in retirement, but with people hunting him down….it wouldn’t hurt to have one on him..

He stuffed the totem into a hidden pocket and went back to potion brewing. He knew he had at least 4 hours at best to prepare. He made his home far away from L’Manburg for a reason. It was better to prepare now.

Anddddd that’s when Ghostbur just had to show up.

“Techno! How’s it going, man?” Ghostbur said happily in his echoing voice. Techno wouldn’t say that he hated Ghostbur, but the ghost was an annoyance at times even without his memories.

“This is a terrible time, Ghost of Wilbur Soot!” Techno grumbled as he ran around his house, checking his chests and brewing stands while Ghostbur stood in the doorway.

Ghostbur had tried to help, but Techno didn’t want it. He couldn’t have any distractions, and Ghostbur was likely to get hurt if whoever was hunting him caught him here. He told Ghostbur to hide in the hills with his weird blue sheep, and luckily for him, it worked. So he was left in his house to sulk and panic for at least…3 hours tops.




It was nighttime when Technoblade finally saw the people hunting him down in the forest. Ghostbur was talking to the people he now recognized as Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and some guy he vaguely knows as Ranboo. He couldn’t help but groan as he looked out the window to spy. Ghostbur was most definitely gonna tell them he was home.

His suspicions were confirmed barely a minute later as Ghostbur walked up to his house with a smile and knocked at his door.

So that’s where Techno is right now, considering not to open the door at all, but Ghostbur then yelled “Techno!” so he opened it anyway. Gosh, this was going to give him such a headache later.

“I need you to lie to them, Ghostbur, and say I’m not home.” He spoke in a rushed whisper, the door barely open but enough for Ghostbur to see him. He knew that the goons knew he was home, but hey, maybe they're stupider than he thought.

“But lying is bad..” The ghost frowned.

“Just do it. They’re trying to kill me!”

Ghostbur clearly still didn’t like the idea of lying, so Techno just sighed heavily and walked out of the doorframe to stand in front of Ghostbur, his hands ready to grab the sword on his side if they instantly attacked him.

Ghostbur seemed to make up his mind in those 3 seconds and waved at the 4 men wearing complete enchanted netherite armor. “Technoblade’s not here, guys!”

Techno really wanted to facepalm in that moment, but seeing the deadpan faces of the goons made him chuckle just a little.

“So why have you come all the way over here, to my humble abode?” Techno asked sarcastically as he walked past the men to the bee farm Phil made for him. To be honest, the bee farm was pretty pog, though it took a while to build with the amount of redstone it needed.

“You need to pay for your war crimes!” Tubbo instantly growled, chasing after Techno.

“Woah, woah, woah, that’s in the past now! That was a different Technoblade. I’m a changed man now, Tubbo. I’m retired.” He argued as he spun on his heel to face Tubbo and his men.

“Techno, you’ve exploded L’Manburg with fucking bombs…”

“You literally spawned Withers everywhere!”

“As much as you’ve changed, you have to be brought to justice for that.” Quackity stepped closer to Techno, diamond axe shining in the waning moonlight as the sun was just about to rise.

“Listen, I have gone through so much effort over the past month to change my violent ways as much as the voices demand blood. I have been denying them! I have been fighting back!” Techno could see none of them were even considering what he was saying. After all, how could someone known for being the “Blood God” change his ways, right?

Quackity somehow had the nerve to ask what Techno had been doing lately, so he pointed to the bee farm behind him. While they were distracted by his totally amazing bee farm, he ran for the trees.

He didn’t want to fight; he didn’t want to break his vow. He has been denying the voices for so long; if he spilled blood now, it would only lead to a rampage until everything he saw was covered in red. He couldn’t just let all that progress go.

Obviously, Quackity noticed him running and yelled. They chased after him; Techno just gave up at that point and turned back around to face them, his Orphan Obliterator sheathed out of its latch.

Quackity threatened him. Said that he wasn’t getting out of this fight in one piece. That there was no other way. He was wrong.

“If there is no other way..” Techno spoke with a smile as he took out the potions in his belt.

“THEN I CHOOSE BLOOD!” He screamed and started charging at Ranboo. The poor kid seemed as if he wasn’t expecting a fight and fell to the ground with a gasp, his sword swinging at Techno with not much strength.

Ranboo was useless, though; he needed to target the leader. If Tubbo went down, they all did. He left Ranboo and swung at Tubbo instead, his sword clashing with netherite. Quackity was yelling, and Fundy was frustrated, but he tuned them out. He could only focus on the voices screaming in his head for blood, for him to kill everything in his sight.

“BIG Q, DO SOMETHING! BIG Q!” Techno barely heard Tubbo scream as he pinned him down, sword in mid-swing to give the president a killing blow when Quackity yelled for him to stop.

He snarled and turned around only to see Quackity holding onto Carl with an axe pointed at the horse’s throat. Techno froze in horror and glared at Quackity.

CARL NO

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

NOOOOO

KILL HIM

NO ONE TOUCHES CARL AND LIVES

BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD

“YOU LEAVE THAT HORSE OUT OF THIS, QUACKITY!” No, no, no, he couldn’t let Carl die. Everything was happening too fast; when did Quackity even reach his stables?! Carl did nothing wrong; he didn’t do anything to deserve this!

“THAT HORSE IS INNOCENT, QUACKITY. LEAVE HIM OUT OF THIS!”

“Drop your shit, and I won’t kill your horse. All of it!” Quackity demanded harshly.

Techno hesitated. He could kill everyone here, but then Carl would die. Maybe if he scared Carl enough for the horse to run? No, fuck …That wouldn’t work; he had desensitized the horse to most sounds and weapons by now…

“Drop your shit now, Technoblade!” Yeah, there was no arguing with these people. They wanted him dead, and they just used his favorite horse against him.

He sighed before holding out his sword and dropping it in the snow. He then unstrapped his Axe of Peace, his crossbow, his arrows, and potions. Fundy, Tubbo, and Ranboo scrambled to pick up his discarded weapons. He didn’t give up his food, but they didn’t seem to care about that. The totem felt like it burned a hole in his side in the hidden pocket it was put inside.

Fundy took out some rope and tied Techno’s hands together in front of him. He could feel everyone’s glare on him, and just to piss them off even more, he tugged at it. “Y’all couldn’t have gotten better quality rope?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Quackity shouted as they started shoving him in the direction of L’Manburg.

They kept him tied up the whole entire 6 hours it took to get back to L’Manburg. It would’ve been shorter if they hadn’t decided to take Carl and Ghostbur’s sheep. Carl’s weight definitely slowed them down. He couldn’t help but smile at that. My horse unintentionally making this harder for my captors? POG.

When they made it, they dragged him through L’Manburg. Techno was stuck in his head. The voices were relentless; he could practically feel the migraine slowly starting behind his eyes from their yells.

“You actually got him…”

Phil’s voice quickly snapped him out of his train of thought as he looked up at his friend.

The word that immediately came to his mind when he saw Phil was tired. Phil looked drained, like he had gotten barely any sleep. The skin under the man’s eyes is dark. What stood out the most was the iron anklet on Phil’s leg and his usually neat wings were messy, tied back with tight rope so the man couldn’t fly.

“PHIL! PHIL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU??” Techno screamed and ran towards Phil’s house, but he was quickly grabbed by Fundy and punched in the face. He couldn’t help but turn around in pure shock. That was the first time he had actually felt a full punch in a while. Usually his strength potions make him numb to the pain, or his armor takes the blow. Techno didn’t hear what Phil yelled at them over his own panic.

He was then shoved towards a stage with a literal cage and tower on top of it. Techno knew what was on top of that tower…it had to be an anvil. Out of all the things he could've been executed with, it just had to be an anvil?! He knew he should be grateful to “die” instantly but an anvil??? That was the best they could do for a person whom spawned not one, but two withers??

Soon enough, he was put into the cage, and Tubbo started his grand speech about his amazing war crimes. Punz randomly jumped in, planting TNT everywhere while the Butcher Army scrambled to break it down. The chaos was nothing to Techno. This should’ve been expected or something.

Ghostbur showed up in the periphery of his vision, so he turned to find Ghostbur with the same weird blue sheep on a leash. “Techno! I named him Friend!” The ghost declared cheerfully. 

Techno gave Ghostbur a tight smile. He didn’t want to be a killjoy, but this is technically an execution. “That’s fantastic, Ghostbur. I’m about to die, Ghostbur.” He said in his usual monotone voice. 

Ghostbur’s eyes widened and his smile fell. Tubbo shouted for Quackity to pull the lever, and Techno looked up. The slightest bit of fear sprung in his chest. He didn’t want to die; no one did, really. He had a totem, he shouldn’t even be afraid of this.

The anvil fell. Techno swiftly took the totem out of its pocket, holding it tightly. Then everything went black as soon as he felt pain on the top of his head.

He felt like he was floating, like there was no gravity. There were no voices in his head, only the tune of a woman humming. It was the tune of the “Ring Around The Rosie” nursery rhyme. He vaguely remembered the song, but it brought so much nostalgia with it. He thought of when he was taught about the bubonic plague and how the rhyme might have a connection to it because of Posies.

He was almost sad when it ended.

Gravity returned, and he could feel himself falling. His head exploded with pain. The pain wasn’t even comparable to a migraine; this was so much worse. It started in his head, then spread to the rest of his body.

He opened his eyes only to see a flash of green before passing out for the second time.

Are we okay?


WE’RE ALIVEEEE

What’s happening?

WHO ARE YOU?!

What do you mean who are you???

We are definitely not okay guys 

This really doesnt seem right…

There was a grainy texture beneath his fingers. When he moved his fingers, the grain(?) slipped through them easily.

Now that he thinks about it, the grain is everywhere. He can feel it beneath his hands, his face, his legs, everywhere really. It didn’t make sense. Wasn’t he just somewhere?

He opened his eyes only to see…sand??? Wait, what was he even expecting to see? Gosh, this was confusing…Why couldn’t he remember where he just was…?

Oh shit …He couldn’t recall anything. Not even his own name came to mind. What was it called again…am-ne-sia….amnesia! He must’ve had some amnesia, it would probably come back at some point.

He looked around and quickly found out he was lying in a desert. Rolling hills of sand surrounded him in every direction, the hot sun’s rays shining down onto him relentlessly. 

He was wearing some type of poet’s shirt that was too big for him and stained with something reddish. He couldn’t remember how that happened. Other than the ruined shirt, he had on brown trousers that were ripped at his knees and ankles. Definitely not purposely ripped, or they would’ve looked nicer. Sadly, he had no shoes; that just sucked.

Now all he has to do is…figure out how to get out of a desert without any idea on who he even is. In a best case scenario, this was just a dream because he could’ve sworn he was just somewhere else…. It started with an L; he was so sure he was just there!

When he tried to get up, he noticed something clutched in his left hand. He unfurled his fingers and found some type of small golden statue, but it was broken into pieces.

That’s…weird.

Chapter Text

This wasn’t right.

Something went wrong, horribly wrong.

Phil saw it. He saw Techno pull out the totem last second. He saw it. He was relieved when he saw the flash and green swirl of the magic.

That relief turned into dread quickly.

Nothing happened…Nothing happened after the flash, just dead silence as people watched to see what would happen next.

Techno wasn’t there. Phil didn’t see Techno’s body reconstruct with the magic. He didn’t see his best friend revive.

Something went wrong. It had to. 

Totems of Undying were old things, rare to even find. They were blessed with old magic, magic older than the world itself that so very few people had the ability to understand. And unsurprisingly, the totems were in high demand for those who held power. Who wouldn’t want something that guaranteed they would not die under any circumstances?

Totems of Undying did exactly what their name said; they revived their holder barely seconds after death. There was no possible way to die with one of them on you unless the magic was counteracted. 

Phil doubted that anyone on the server knew how to do that.

Everyone was yelling, screaming in both shock and confusion. Everyone saw the totem’s flash, but when nothing happened, it only got more chaotic from there. Phil could hear Quackity’s voice over the static of his own mind, but the words didn’t process. Nor did he care what the fucker had to say. Who cared what any of them had to say? They hurt his best friend. They killed hurt him.

Phil’s knuckles were white from how tight he was holding the railing of his balcony. His mind screamed at him to do something, to do anything, but he was frozen there. He was stuck.

Static was taking over his mind. All he could think about was why the totem didn’t work and why he didn’t revive. His mind repeated the execution over and over; all he could see was the damn anvil falling.

He should’ve done something sooner when he saw them building the stage. He should’ve known what that anvil was going to be used for. He should’ve fought when Tubbo took the compass. Everything could’ve been avoided if—if he hadn’t been too stupid to realize people actually wanted his best friend dead.

Maybe this would’ve never happened if he had just fought against them instead of letting them search his house.

He doesn’t know how long he was standing there stuck in his own trance before a crow landed on the railing in front of him. Now that he’s aware of it, there were actually quite a few crows around him, staring at him with their beady eyes.

The crow in front of him cawed, then pecked near where his hands were still gripping the railing. When he didn’t let go, the crow cawed again but more loudly.

Ah, he understood it now. The crows were trying to comfort him…

Usually they would yell the random words and letters they’ve learned over the years, but…they haven’t said a thing yet. And that was usual for them. The crow kept cawing until Phil eventually let go. God, he hasn’t been this bad since Wilbur —nope, he wasn’t going down that rabbit hole today!

Phil went back inside slowly. He felt sluggish, and there was a weight on his chest. His hands were shaking to the point that if he dared to hold something, he would probably drop it. The crows followed him inside apparently because they were all over his chests in an instant, messing with the shiny locks and the trinkets he left around the base. 

He needed something that would at least tell him for certain that Techno wasn’t dead. Just to ease his mind. He can’t take another death. 

Not when it’s the person that held him through the nights he grieved his son. 

Not when it’s the person that made sure Phil was okay every day. 

Not when it’s the person that said he would fight the world for Phil.

He can’t; he just can’t.

A crow with a white belly suddenly flew into his vision, holding an emerald with a purple shine in its beak.

“What’cha got there, mate?” Phil spoke with a tight smile, hoping his voice didn’t sound as weak as he felt. He didn’t want to deal with the crows’ antics right now. Anytime but now.

It was one of the friendship emeralds Techno gave him. This one was different, though. While Techno gave him 3 emeralds, this was the only one that was enchanted to be basically connected to Techno’s lives. If Techno died, it would simply shatter to let Phil know. When Phil was gifted it, he had the plan to turn it into an earring or a necklace like Techno did so it wouldn’t get caught on anything. His plans got a bit delayed sadly…

He didn’t expect to see the emerald cracked in the crow’s beak. Cracked straight down the middle like someone tried to split it in half.

Cracked, not shattered.

He needed to find a way out of here now .

-

So while walking for about 2 hours straight (or what he hoped was 2 hours (he can’t really tell the time without a clock..), he quickly realized his body was definitely not made for the heat of the desert.

Sweat was rolling down his back, making him feel all gross and sticky. His throat was also parched, which made swallowing feel like sandpaper was going down his throat. His feet burned from the lack of shoes; he felt dizzy, and he was breathing a little too fast.

Overall, he basically just felt like shit and was in a shit situation. 

He would die anyway if he stayed put, though, so the least he could do was keep walking. Even if the sand burned his feet with every step.

While he was walking, he tried to think about how he could’ve gotten here or if he could remember anything. 

The first idea on how he got in the desert is that there was an accident and he got lost somehow. He mentally crossed that possibility out, though, because it wouldn’t explain how he lost his memories. Maybe he hit his head on something? Then again, there wasn’t any debris or crash site to imply there was an accident where he woke up.

Second idea: that weird statue has something to do with it. It wasn’t unlikely if he was being honest with himself. Who randomly wakes up with no memories of who they are, who their family is, or how they even got in a desert and has a broken statue in their hands? Right, literally nobody. How does the statue have something to do with it, though? He’s still working on that…

Third idea…actually that was all he could think of. There are only so many things a man can come up with before it sounds too unrealistic to happen. 

If only there were more things to do in a practical wasteland; thinking is boring.

After what had to be another 20 minutes of walking, he decided to take a break.

He needed one anyway. His legs felt like they were going to collapse on themselves, and he was getting a little too dizzy, to be honest. His vision was starting to swim a little bit, and without water or shade, he couldn’t really do anything about it. 

Swiping away some of the sweat collected on his forehead, he sighed heavily and sat down, letting his head rest on his knees. He was exhausted, really. He should’ve taken a break earlier, but he wanted to get out of this desert as quickly as possible. 

It would be smarter if he slept now and traveled more at night, when it’s cooler. Based on the amount of bones he has seen buried under sand, though, this desert was likely infested with skeletons. God, skeletons had to be one of the most annoying mobs after baby zombies, he swears…

He could maybe take a quick nap; the sun wasn’t that close to setting yet, so if he was quick about it, he could at least get 30 minutes of sleep. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea for now. So he closed his eyes, and unsurprisingly, it didn’t take that long for sleep to take him.

-


tHiSS is s0 B0rIngg ..


E

w3 nE3d a NeW n4me

e4T

w3’rE g0nNa sTarV3

TH3RE

wHaT’S h4PP3nIng?

lO0k up

tHls sUcKs

L0oK uP 

bR0 he m1ssssEd iT 

Lo0k UP.


L0sT noblade


LOOK UP



Tech - He woke up to the sound of his own scream. 

His ears felt like they would explode any second, ringing with sensitivity. He could barely even hear his own heavy breathing over the noise. Everything was so loud—too loud.

Digging his fingers into his ears didn’t help. In fact, it only made the pain worse. The voices were gone, but he could still hear them echoing in his head. It was like a thousand people screamed into his head with a microphone all at the same time.

And that hurts, believe it or not. Hurts so freaking much.

It took him a while to calm down. His ears still rang, but it was at the point where he didn’t want to rip them off.

He feels like a wave of exhaustion settled into his bones even more than it did before. 

A quick look at the sun confirmed his suspicions. The sun hasn’t even moved an inch from its place in the sky. He probably wasn’t asleep for even a few minutes. That’s what it felt like at least.

He barely understands anything the voices said since they were overlapping and drowning each other out, but he could make out a couple of things.

What was “we need a new name” supposed to mean though???

Sure, he hasn’t given himself a name since he woke up, but what was he even meant to name himself? Dave??? Forget that! All the names he can think of are stupid anyway. He doesn’t need a name right now.

Other than that, the only other thing he remembers is the voices demanding him to look up. 

That didn’t make sense, though; he had looked up just a second ago. There’s nothing in the sky, not even a bird.

Unless…

He was looking down when he fell asleep, right? He’s too tired to really think hard about it, but maybe those voices meant something else. 

He bets if someone was with him right now, they would call him crazy.

Why was he even listening to the voices that he can no longer even hear? Wasn’t that a medical condition or something? Oh god, what if he’s insane?? That would explain a lot, actually…

Yeah, enough thinking about whether or not he has a mental illness. 

Forcing himself to focus, he started looking around for what he could’ve possibly missed, but there wasn’t much. All he could really see was sand, bones, even more sand, and a cactus very far into the distance to his right.

He stared at the lone cactus for a solid minute before sighing. He was an idiot for listening to random voices. He’s gonna have to remember to get his mind checked out if he finds civilization. 

It was really tempting to go up to the cactus, but drinking cactus juice is definitely not a good idea. He isn’t that much of an idiot to do that.

He really doesn’t know why he keeps staring at it, though; it’s a regular cactus. It’s in one of those shapes where it looks like a man with his arms up, the spikes barely visible from how far away he is from it.

Something was yelling at him to keep looking at it. 

But why?

Leaning back, he almost immediately answered that question. It allowed him to look past the cactus a bit, and there, veryyyy far in the distance to the point he could barely see it, was a structure.

The odds of hearing voices tell you something and them ending up being right must be incredibly low. There is no freaking way that was a desert village. Desert villages were already hard to find because who wants to live in a desert in the first place?

There’s just no way.

He isn’t passing up that chance, though. He’d do anything to never see this desert again.


-


The villagers didn’t speak nor understand Common, but they knew how to help him when they looked at his sunburnt skin, messy hair, and dirty clothes covered in sand.

So he was currently sitting under the shade of a trading stand, an empty canteen next to him. The sounds of cows mooing coming from a pen nearby. 

It was a pretty small village. There were only 6 houses, some farms, animals, and a little church that looked close to collapsing despite everything being made out of sandstone.

The only people outside were 3 farmers. 

The one he walked up to took one look at him and went to get him water, which he is very grateful for. He chugged the thing instantly.

The farmer also let him inside his house for a bit, just to wash up, and that was the first time he actually looked at himself. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it.

He had blue-green hair that reached barely past his ears. His sleeves either hid it or he just didn’t notice until now, but even his skin had a blue-ish undertone. And sticking out of his hair were small warped antlers, a brighter version of his hair. Other than those features, he looked completely normal and probably just needed to eat more because he seemed a bit underweight. 

He basically looked like a normal person but with the antlers of a warden and colorful hair. He can totally deal with this…even if something in the back of his head told him this wasn’t right.

After he went back outside, the farmer pulled him towards the shade and even gave him a piece of bread. He wanted to say thank you so badly, but his throat felt too dry still to talk, and they wouldn’t understand him either way.

He could feel the pity coming from the other farmers but ignored it.

He wasn’t planning to stay long anyway.

The plan that he was made up in about 2 minutes was that maybe he could figure out how to get a map from these people and get closer to the nearest city if possible. There, maybe he could find someone to help with his memory problem. Best case scenario; he finds someone that knows him. That would be great.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice a person walking up to him until he saw lime green in his peripheral. He turned his head and saw the stupidest-looking person he’s ever seen. That isn’t saying much considering the villagers are his only human interaction ever, but who cares? 

The guy was clearly not a villager because he wasn’t even wearing desert attire. He was wearing regular jeans, a lime green hoodie with the hood up, gloves, and the most weird of all things, a white mask with a smiley face drawn shakily on it.

“Good to see you here.” The weird man spoke casually. The eyes of the mask were kind of eerie now that the man was looking down at him. Yeah, this guy is totally weird. 

“….Do……I know you?” He cringed at his own voice because of how hoarse it was even with the water he drank.

The man laughed loudly and sat down next to him. He didn’t exactly like that.

“You do, or at least you did before now. You can’t remember anything, right?”

He practically perked up when the man said he used to know him. This guy knew him! He could actually get some answers now, but how did he know he couldn’t remember? Was the memory thing a medical issue he had? Does he have memory problems often? He shook his head to answer no.

Smiley face guy, or whatever his name is, seemed to take his silence as a yes and spoke again. “I’m Dream. We weren’t friends, but I knew you pretty well.”

“Did I have a name?” He asked. He had half a mind to say he better not have a stupid name, but he doesn’t really want to talk that much right now. Especially with “Dream.” Who has a name like that?

“It was…” Dream paused and chuckled. “It was Cyberknife, you chose it yourself.”

He could only glare at Dream in disbelief. That definitely was not his name. Dream only laughed harder at his face.

“I’m not lying! It’s Cyberknife but you usually went by...uh—Cyber.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Cyber wasn’t too bad. He can live with that.

“You must’ve gotten lost in the desert for a bit. You tend to forget a lot, not this badly though. But hey, you were a nobody anyway.” Dream shrugged, and he Cyber could imagine a smile on his face to match the mask. It didn’t exactly make him feel better about losing his memories.

“How about I teach you some things you’ve forgotten and go back to the SMP?” The guy offered that so casually Cyber has to process the words multiple times.

“The what?” 

“Ah, uh... it’s a country that I made. It’s not a desert, though, so I think you’d be interested.” Dream waved around his hands like he was trying to gesture to the area around them. “You want that, right?”

He doesn’t want to trust Dream. His gut is telling him not to, but he seems like the only person that can help him right now. And he doesn’t want to stay here much longer either. This desert was something Cyber didn’t want to see for a while.

“Fine.” That was the only thing he had the energy to say.

“Good, good. Right next to it is a country called L’Manburg. They have a pretty good government, though it’s a small country so far. They just went through a revolution.”

Dream went on about L’Manburg for a couple of minutes, but Cyber could only focus on the fact L’Manburg sounded so familiar. He’s sure he’s never been to such a place, but he feels like he knows it. Dream said he tends to forget, right? That has to be why.

“You need something big, though, something that will get their attention. After all, L’Manburg cherishes order and peace within their country.” Cyber tuned back in when Dream said that, and he looked at him confused. 

“Why would I want attention?”

Dream looked as if he was frozen for a moment.

“Cyber…before you forgot, you were…interested in anything involving politics. If there was a government or a political problem, you just HAD to step in!” There was an edge to Dream’s voice that made Cyber want to shrink on himself. His gut was telling him to run. He couldn’t.

“I’m sure you’d like to get back into that fun hobby. So if you want to go to L’Manburg and get them to listen, you need to go big…like a firework…” 

He can live with this. He’ll just have to reconnect with his old self a bit.