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The first strike is still not meant to kill, but this time it feels far more personal, far more devastating, because nothing about this battle is truly about steel or power
It is about hurt that has been left to rot for too long, about love spoken in the language both of them understand best, about a father and son standing on opposite sides of fear and calling it anger
The moment Technoblade moves, the world seems to tighten around him
His cape snaps behind him like a storm cloud torn open by wind, red eyes bright with a fury so old it no longer burns hot but glows like banked coals beneath snow
[Orphan Obliterator] rises in his hand, and for one impossible heartbeat Wemmbu sees not only his father, but the legend Blood God whispered through stories, the monster kings and armies once feared
Then the sword comes down
Wemmbu barely catches the blow with [Crucible] haft before the force drives him backward through the cabin floorboard
Wood screams beneath his boots
The entire area shudders
A crack runs up the wall like lightning through bark, splitting lantern light into trembling shards across the room
The house breaks before either of them do
Beams splinter apart, glass bursts outward, and the fight crashes from the cabin into the open night in one violent motion, father and son exploding through the wall in a rain of wood chips and frost dust
Neither speaks at first
They do not need to
The sound of metal colliding is louder than words
Technoblade attacks like a landslide, overwhelming, relentless, every swing heavy enough to crush bone through armor
Wemmbu ducks beneath the first arc, rolls through the dirt and comes up with his mace already in hand, the heavy head catching moonlight as he slams it into Technoblade sword
The impact rings out like a church bell in the frozen air
Technoblade barely budges
His sword whips around with terrifying speed, forcing Wemmbu to leap backward, wings snapping open to catch the momentum before the blade carves a bright line through the earth where he had stood
Snow and dirt erupt upward
For a moment, all Wemmbu can see is the cloud of debris and the intermittent flashes of steel inside it before be bursts out of the haze
His tail lashes behind him, golden eyes bright with anger and grief tangled so tightly together they can no longer be separated
He flied up high and closes the distance in a rush, [Gambit] swinging low before rising in a brutal upper arc that Technoblade blocks with the flat of his blade
The shockwave sends frost skittering across the ground
“You don’t get to decide this for me!” Wemmbu’s voice cracks through the night, sharp and raw, and this time it is not just anger
It is pain
Technoblade answer comes with another strike
“No” he snarls, forcing Wemmbu backward step by step “I get to stop you from making the same mistakes everyone else did”
The words hit harder than the sword
Wemmbu stares at him for half a heartbeat too long, and Technoblade capitalizes instantly, shoulder checking him hard enough to send him crashing into the remains of a spruce tree
The trunk snaps
Wemmbu hits the ground with a breathless gasp
For a second, the world tilts
The sky spins above him in black and silver
And then anger flares hotter than the pain
He rises with a growl, tossing the broken branch aside as his hand reaches not for his maces this time, but for the orbital strike cannon slung across his back
Technoblade pauses
The cannon hums to life in Wemmbu grip, ring of TNT gathering at its core in the sky, exploded with enough force to make the snow around him melt and hiss into steam
(The sight of it makes Flamefrags inhale sharply in the distance)
The blast spills across his face, catching the fury in his expression and the hurt beneath it
“You want to keep treating me like a kid who knows nothing about the world?” Wemmbu’s voice trembles, but only because there is too much feeling in it to stay steady “Then stop acting surprised when I fight back”
The blast tears into the night
A beam of concentrated light screams across the clearing and slams into the ground where Technoblade had been standing, exploding in a burst so violent it rips open the earth
Fire and shattered stone erupt skyward
Trees bend away from the force
But Technoblade is already moving again
He emerges from the smoke like something born from war itself, cape half burned at the edge, eyes glowing brighter than the flames around him
And this time, when he reaches Wemmbu, he does not swing first
He grabs him
One gloved hand catches the front of Wemmbu armor and shoves him backward so hard they both crash through the treeline, branches snapping against wings and horns
“You think I’m angry because of Flamefrags?” Technoblade voice is low now, shaking with something far more dangerous than rage “You think that’s what this is about?”
Wemmbu struggles against his grip, breathing hard, eyes blazing “Then what is it about?”
For the first time, Technoblade hesitates
And when he speaks, his voice carries something heartbreakingly human “It’s about losing you”
The words land harder than any blade
Everything stills
Even the wind seems to hold its breath
Technoblade grip loosens just enough for the emotion in his expression to become visible, not the Blood God, not the legend, just a father whose fear has finally cracked through the armor of anger
“I have seen what trust does” He says, quieter now, every word dragged up from somewhere buried deep “I have seen what people do when you give them your heart. I buried too many names to count because I thought loyalty could survive betrayal”
Wemmbu chest rises and falls sharply.
His anger does not disappear
But it changes
Because suddenly this no longer feels like punishment
It feels like fear
The kind that only exists because love runs too deep
“You don’t get it” Wemmbu says, voice trembling now too, and he shoves Technoblade back just enough to create space between them “I do know what betrayal feels like, I made him hurt first, I made him earn every inch back, I chose this.”
Technoblade stares at him
Wemmbu steps forward, mace lowering slightly at his side
“You taught me how to fight” He says, voice breaking with emotion “You taught me how to survive but you don’t get to choose who I become because you’re scared”
The words hang between them
Heavy
Painful
True
Technoblade attacks again but this time it is different
Less fury
More grief
Their weapons clash beneath the moon in a terrible, beautiful rhythm of sword against mace, mace against blade, sparks scattering like fallen stars
Wemmbu ducks low and drives the mace into Technoblade ribs hard enough to force a grunt from him, then spins, wings carrying the motion as he brings the stab shot out
The explosion throws both of them apart
The clearing lights up in violent ember
The earth splits open
Fire blooms through the trees despite the snowstorm
And still they keep coming back to each other
Again
Again
Again
Like the song of two hearts that only know how to speak through conflict
Father and son
Neither willing to surrender
Neither truly wanting to win
By the time the fight reaches its final exchange, both of them are bleeding
Technoblade leans heavier on his sword
Wemmbu wings tremble with strain
The cannon in his hand flickers, nearly spent
Their breaths fog the air between them
Then Technoblade lowers his weapon first
Not because he is weaker
Because he finally understands
Because he saw the determination
Wemmbu stands frozen, chest heaving
For a long moment, neither moves
Then Technoblade exhales, a tired, almost bitter laugh leaving him
“You fight like Dream when you’re emotional” He mutters
Wemmbu mouth twitches despite everything “And I hit like you”
That draws the faintest shadow of a smile
A pause
Then Technoblade voice drops softer than anyone there has probably ever heard it “Only for you”
Wemmbu swallows “I know”
The reply is barely above a whisper
“Thanks pops”
And somehow, that hurts more than the battle ever could
Because this was never really about anger
It was always about love spoken badly
The kind that clings too tight because it is terrified of loss
The kind that lashes out because it cannot bear the thought of being left behind
In the cold wreckage of the forest, father and son stand facing each other, broken and breathing, both too proud to say sorry and yet somehow saying it anyway
And when the others finally return to the clearing, what they find is not victory
Just two people who love each other enough to survive the worst parts of themselves