Of Blood and Chaos - HobblyWobbly (2024)

Chapter Text

Techno remembers the day he first heard the voices.

He remembers the way his gut curled in disgust at the bitter scent of blood, the stark, lifeless white eyes of his parents, the proud squeals of the piglins as they celebrated their latest kill, the lava pit that bubbled and popped after them.

killthembloodforthebloodgodkillthemyouknowyouwantto

K̷̬̿Ḯ̵̻͝L̸̡̾̅L̶͖͜T̸̲̓H̴̉͜E̸͕̐́M̵̢͇̽̕K̷̩̙̀Í̵̹̅L̷̪̇̚L̵̲̈̃T̷̨̹́̉Ḫ̷̎͒E̵̲͙̋M̸̥̟̾̃M̷̰̍U̶̟͔̒̾R̸̗̺̀̐D̷̥̉É̷̮R̷̝͈̉T̸̬̋H̵͍͆̈E̸͉͒ͅM̶͕͔̐D̸̹͊̈O̷̞̹̔̓Ṇ̷͠T̷̲̓̏L̸͕͠ͅE̸̜̞̿́T̵͙̦̎̎T̷̲͛̓H̸̡̖̋E̴̡̼̾̾M̸͔͙̽G̶̹͑E̷̠̫͒̀T̷̢̙̏Ą̸̒̆Ẉ̶͆A̷̡̦̎Y̴̢̾̈́

All it took was a push.

Techno remembers watching their bodies crash into the lava and burn away. Their screams echoing off the Nether rack walls and brimstone. The blood of his parents smeared across his hands and snout. Watching the piglins sink into the lava until there was nothing left.

Those were the only memories of his parents that he held. Perhaps some sort of divine mercy was placed upon him. If he remembered hugs, warmth, and tenderness then he never would have survived in the Nether for as long as he has. It was a kill or be killed world down there. Only the strong survived, scavenging for what little food could be found, claiming and battling over territory, attacking adventurers who had happened to steal their gold. He did not look for love, he did not expect it to look for him, he barely knew what it was.

There was no room for sentimentality in his life.

Bloodbloodforthebloodgodkillslaughter

B̶̧̟͑L̷̯̋O̷̖O̷̘͋Ḑ̵̗̈́F̸͔̄Ò̵̱̈R̸̺̖͐̕T̴͔͔̑͝H̸̦̫͂Ȩ̵̾B̸̤̼͆̂Ḽ̵̏ͅO̶̢̔̾O̶̠͛̕D̵̜̆G̸̮̑Ő̶̩̓D̷̮̟̃

Techno knew he was different.

While the other piglets his age had their tusks growing in, his were still short and blunt, making it harder for him to eat the tough meat and fungi that populated the Nether. Their adult counterparts, however, showed the most difference. Techno would stare into their eyes and they would never stare back. Unblinking. Lifeless. He almost believed them to be blind if not for all the signs pointing otherwise. The few remaining wisps of hair moved in the hot breeze and their shirts billowed- the rest of them utterly still. Their only motive in life to continue searching for more gold. There was no soul- just a body.

Born as what many would label a ‘runt,’ Techno was smaller but faster than the other piglets, able to scale Nether rack cliffs in half the time it would take anyone else and escape the mobs without breaking a sweat. Despite his small stature, however, he had the strength of a brute; he could flip a charging hoglin onto its back and still continue fighting the piglins that made the poor choice of entering his territory. He had survived long enough on his own in the cruelty of the world to put fear behind his name

Technoblade.

It was the name the voices gave him. They were the closest he had to family, really. There with him every waking- and sleeping- moment, filling him with knowledge the other piglins could never understand. But there was always something missing. There would be days when Techno watched those from the Overworld venture through portals. He watched them journey across the Nether, laughing with their companions, breaking bread together, and fighting mobs together.

lonelylonelyneednoneonlyblood

n̸̡̐ė̷̮ͅe̴̙̓ḏ̸͛b̵̨̎ḷ̸͈̚o̴̗͠o̸͙̿d̸͎̠̋̇o̴͇͂̏n̶͍̈̅l̴̟͘y̷̦͇̑b̷̟̥͐̑l̸̥̓̿o̵̙̩͑o̶͔̊͆d̷̫̜́B̶̧̟͑L̷̯̋O̷̖O̷̘͋Ḑ̵̗̈́F̸͔̄Ò̵̱̈R̸̺̖͐̕T̴͔͔̑͝H̸̦̫͂Ȩ̵̾B̸̤̼͆̂Ḽ̵̏ͅO̶̢̔̾O̶̠͛̕D̵̜̆G̸̮̑Ő̶̩̓D̷̮̟̃

Techno had tried befriending adventurers at first, but they would always attack or run at the sight of him. His fellow piglins were too single-minded, only caring about their gold and food and territory, incapable of learning speech or half the things he saw the travelers do and he could do. He’d spend most days sitting alongside the portals built of strange black rock, wondering if he was to live here for eternity, trapped in a meaningless existence.

Then he met Wilbur.

It had been a rather normal day so far; he ate fungus stew, chased some hoglins out of his territory, and watched a ghast terrorize an adventurer until they fell into a pit of lava and died. Overall, uneventful. Techno was sitting on a cliff, watching a strider waddle past him over the sea below, when he heard a shrill shriek not too far away, his ear perking up at the sound. It sounded like an Overworlder, but the pitch was too high for a grown one. Curiosity piked, Techno grabbed his golden sword and headed in the direction of the scream.

“Get- get away from me!” A boy nearly half Techno’s height was backed up against a wall, much leaner than Techno with a bird’s nest of brown hair that fell over his right eye, a pair of circular glasses sitting atop his nose, and a woolen yellow sweater swamping his small body to match his yellow eyes. Opposite of him was a pair of starving piglins that were stumbling closer and closer with every second, flesh hugging their bones, foam dripping from their gaping jaws. He was smaller than Techno, there was no chance he would survive against the ravenous piglins.

leavehimtodielethimbleed

k̴͚̉į̸̰̃l̵̑͜l̶̻̻̿̃ ̶̥̞͛ẗ̵͈́͘ͅh̵̝ẻ̷̞̆m̷̛̠͙͆ ̵̬̿a̷̗̹̔l̵̥͔̂͝l̸̰͐ ̷̟̮̌k̷̖̃͠ĭ̷̛̥͕l̵̹̔l̷͖̊ ̶͙̆̇t̶͓͆h̴͈̐e̶̱̙̔̔ ̷̮̇̑b̴̼̤͝ȏ̶̧̮͂y̷͍̓

Techno tightened his grip on the sword. He knew the voices were right. He shouldn’t get involved. He had no reason to. They weren’t on his territory, and it was the kid’s own fault for coming down here. So why was he charging down the cliff and placing himself between the Overworlder and the piglins? Why was he blocking an attack and slicing off the tusk of the largest one, snarling at them until they turned tail and ran?

shouldhavekilledshedbloodescapedescapedran

Y̶͖̚͠E̷̼̔̓S̷͖͕̏Ỹ̴̱̪E̴̢̟̓S̸͈͕̃K̸̞̖̈́I̸̝̐L̵̦̔͘Ļ̴̚M̶̨̥͠Ȍ̴̯̩Ŕ̸͕̃Ę̷̬͐M̴̦̄O̷͕̯͌R̴̰̠̿̔E̵͈̓͌M̶̼̥̌̚O̵̩͝R̶͓͓̂̏E̵̠͎̓͛B̴͕̅L̵̫̂O̶̙͗Õ̵̙̹͑D̷͖͕̒

Anger boiled deep in his head, as hot as the lava that surrounded them. The voices roared into his ears. They churned within, hungry for destruction, and he knew it was too much for him to handle. Red began creeping into his vision.

“Um...thank you…” A shaky voice from behind Techno snapped him free, sweat dripping down his neck into his tunic. He turns. The boy was smiling the best he could despite the fear still lingering in his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot, knife clutched to his chest. “I didn’t- I thought I was a goner! Can...can you understand me?”

“...yes.” Techno didn’t know why he was talking to this boy. Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe it was to escape the voices creeping up in the recesses of his mind. The boy, however, perked up when Techno responded, undaunted by the gruffness of his voice.

“I didn’t know piglin’s could talk…” He blinked then held his hand out. Techno stared at it, then leaned in close, pressing his snout against the palm and sniffing it. Wilbur giggled. “H- Hey, that tickles! I’m- I’m Wilbur.”

“Technoblade.”

“Woah, that’s such a cool name. A lot cooler than ‘ Wilbur,’ ” Wilbur does this weird thing with his voice while making air quotes in the air. “Um, well, I should be getting home now. It was nice meeting you, Technoblade.” He dropped his hand and started walking in a random direction. He paused, looked around the area, and turned back to Techno. “Um. I’m lost.”

Techno’s ear flicked in annoyance.

“Follow me…” He grumbled, shoving his gold sword into the boy’s open hands, not waiting to see if Wilbur was following or not as he headed in a direction. The telltale sound of running footsteps from behind told him how close Wilbur was.

“Thank you, again, but why did you give me your sword?” Wilbur asks and Techno sighs. His ear flicked again.

“Piglin like gold. Leave you alone.” He said as an explanation, climbing up a ledge. Wilbur struggles to follow and Techno wondered how he got so far without dying already.

“Oh. I knew that. You’d like my dad- he beat Herobrine!” Techno had no idea who that was. Wilbur took Techno’s silence as an invitation to continue, the two resuming their walk. “He has huge wings and takes me flying sometimes and goes on adventures so that he can make money! We have a farm with cows and sheep and chickens and pigs, but they aren’t like the pigs here. They’re a lot dumber and they just oink a lot. Do you oink?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought. So, how come you can talk?”

hecantknowaboutushemusTNTonlyyouhiddensafeprotected

w̶e̴ ̶t̸a̵u̷g̵h̴t̵ ̴y̷o̴u̸ ̵w̵e̷ ̶l̷o̵v̶e̵ ̴y̵o̸u̶

“...I learned. On my own.”

“Oh, okay. Well, it’s still pretty cool. Dad said that I was a real sh*thead about learning how to talk-” Wilbur stopped mid-sentence. “Um, don’t tell my dad that I said that.”

“Said what?”

“Exactly.”

“No, I really don’t know what.”

“It’s better you don’t.”

Techno learned, rather quickly, that Wilbur talked a lot.

He easily talked enough for the both of them, not minding Techno’s silence and clipped responses, telling him more of his life with Phil and how his days would go. Techno wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he enjoyed the company, it was nice having someone to talk with that wasn’t inside his own head.

“So, how old are you?” Wilbur asks eventually as they were building a bridge across a lava pool. Normally, Techno would just jump over them, but Wilbur’s legs were shorter and he wasn’t sure if the boy could make the jump unharmed.

“Um.”

“I’m eight! I’m the oldest kid in the village nearby and I’m proud of that. Dad says that once I’m a little older he’ll let me join him on his adventures.”

“...I’m...older than that.” Techno mumbles. He wasn’t actually sure how old he was or how ages even worked. None of the piglins used them- everything was determined through rank and violence and gold. That was just how the Nether worked.

“Hmm…” Wilbur muses and dances his way across the bridge. Techno grabbed the kid by the back of his collar before he could trip and fall headfirst into the lava. The curly-haired idiot just grinned and laughed, letting himself get dragged along. “We could be twins!”

“...okay,” he didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound half bad. They traveled in silence after that. Occasionally, they would be sidetracked because Wilbur found something interesting or Techno was taking a longer route to avoid hostile piglin bangs, but they eventually found the Nether portal Wilbur came through, marked by a couple rocks he left by the entrance so he’d know.

“Well, thank you for showing me the way!” Wilbur smiles. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll come to visit again soon, I promise. I remember the way we went, so I’ll know where to find you next time!”

“Okay.”

“And maybe next time I’ll bring my dad! He’ll really like to meet you. Oh, and my goldfish. I won him during a festival the village nearby held.”

“Okay.”

“...I’ll be going then,” he takes a step back towards the portal. Techno stays still, resisting the urge to reach out, to follow after the boy. His friend.

lethimgolethimleave

f̵o̸l̶l̷o̵w̷ ̸g̴o̶ ̶g̵o̷ ̵g̵o̶ ̴g̶o̵ ̶g̴o̸

The voices were finally back, their whispers sending shivers down his spine rather than gentle reassurances, sweat dripping down his neck.

“Bye, Techno,” Wilbur had turned and climbed up onto the obsidian, stepping into the purple window, and then he was gone. Techno didn’t know what came over him then. Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe it was boredom. Whatever it was, it filled his veins and pushed him forward through the portal and out of the Nether.

Nothing could have prepared Techno for what greeted him.

When Techno first felt grass upon his hooves he nearly jumped out of his skin, climbing back up onto the Nether portal away from the foreign plant. The sun above was blinding, eyes tearing up under the harsh light, so he ducked his head and used his arms as a shield, the little bit of shade it provided helping his eyes adjust somewhat.

“W-Wilbur-” He called.

“Techno? What are you doing?” Techno didn’t see Wilbur from his angle but he could hear the boy’s worried voice. Soon enough, small hands were grasping his hands, clutching them tightly, a yellow sweater stepping into his vision.

“Stay,” Don’t leave me alone.Techno swallows, his voice shaking, hating how weak he sounded. Wilbur was quiet. Just when Techno thought he’d be kicked back through the portal, his hands were given a soft squeeze.

“Okay," Wilbur said gently. "Come on, home isn’t too far away.” Techno eventually had to be coaxed off, Wilbur reassuringly holding his hands all the way, hesitantly touching the ground once again until both legs were level. The meadow around them meandering in the wind, long stalks of grass flowing as the lava would, a couple cows nearby munching on grass unperturbed by the two’s presence. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He eventually forces out, still taking in everything, an arm crossed over his eyes which were still adjusting. Wilbur tugs on Techno’s hand, the two boys crossing through the meadow away from the portal until it falls out of sight.

The cottage Wilbur lived in was rather ordinary, built out of logs in an oak forest, surrounded by bountiful farmland and animals, and lit up by torches so that no mobs would spawn in the territory, a river coursing through nearby meaning an endless supply of water. Techno thought it was the most beautiful place he’d ever been

“Dad! I’m home!” Wilbur calls into the house, squeezing Techno’s hand reassuringly. The pigman hid behind the boy’s back, making himself smaller. “Here, brush your hooves off on the mat like this to get the mud off. Dad doesn’t like it when I get the house dirty.” Techno was busy copying Wilbur and kicking the mud off onto a mat when there was a crash followed by rushed footsteps.

“Wilbur! Thank heavens- where have you been?! I looked for you all over the village and the forest and- are your clothes singed?!” A blonde man with large black wings came hurrying down the hall, dropping to his knees and scooping Wilbur’s face into his hands, looking him over his injuries. “Did you go into the Nether ?!”

“You said we were out of blaze powder! And I’m eight now, so that means I can go on adventures! Besides, I found a friend!” Techno didn’t move from his spot behind Wilbur. “Techno, that was your cue. He’s a little shy, dad, but don’t worry he’s very nice and he has a really cool name and I think he’s my long lost twin brother or something and-”

“Wilbur…” Phil sighs tiredly, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Slow down. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not, and you would know that if you let me finish!” Wilbur huffs, squeezing Techno’s hand again. Reluctantly, Techno shuffled into view, head ducked, toeing the floorboards with his hoof. “Dad, this is Technoblade. He saved me!” Phil turns his gaze away from Wilbur and his eyes widen. “He doesn’t have a home, and it would be rude to make him go back without even a meal first.”

He looked back towards his son and, oh, Wil was good. He was laying on the puppy dog eyes thick, his bottom lip jutted out and trembling, wrapping his arms around Techno and hugging him tightly. “He’s my twin brother...please, dad…” Before Techno knew what was happening, a pair of hands were gripping his face, squishing his cheeks together making him squeal in surprise. “And he’s adorable.”

Phil sighs again. Just when Techno thought he’d get sent away, the winged man gave him a soft smile, standing from his spot on the floor.

“Well, Techno, would you like to stay for dinner?”

nononononono

Ẏ̴͉͆Ẽ̶̝̫̇S̴͖̄̾Ỳ̷̠͎E̸͓͂S̴̥̫̑͛Y̸̡̻͆E̵̟̙̓͘S̵̛̕ͅY̶̤̚ͅḘ̶̼͛͠S̸͎͕̓Y̵̢̒͑E̷̮̽S̶͔̬̔

“...Yes.”

After dinner, Phil began setting up the couch for Techno.

“This isn’t the most comfortable, but I’ll work on getting a bed for you in the morning. Wilbur’s room is large enough for both of you.” Phil said. He was saying some more things, but Techno was caught up in his head. The voices had been silent all evening and while he was grateful he was also scared. Were they angry at him? Should he have stayed in the Nether ? What if they change their minds and kick him out? What if Wilbur gets tired of him and starts hating him-

“Hey, buddy,” Techno’s ears twitch and he looks up. Phil had stepped over with a look of concern on his face. Wilbur and Phil both had a crease between their brows when they were worried. He began shuffling awkwardly. “It’s alright, come here.” Silently, Techno shuffles over, bringing himself close enough to Phil so he could clutch at his shirt, pressing his snout against his stomach. A hand falls down and pets through Techno’s pink hair, occasionally brushing over his ear.

“...dad?” Wilbur pipes up, voice much softer than it had been before, popping up at Phil’s opposite side. “Is he okay?” Techno makes a little squeaking noise against Phil. He felt a small hand grasp his own, squeezing. He squeezed back.

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just adjusting.” Phil mumbles. He wraps his free arm around Wilbur and pulls him into his hip, holding the two close. “Just a lot of new things at once. Remember when we moved?” Wilbur nods. “It’s a lot like that. We’ll be alright.”

“Alright..” Techno repeats quietly.

“You know what, how about we all sleep in my bed for tonight?” And so the three ended up in Phil’s bed, both tucked into his side, listening as he told a story of his youth. Techno fell asleep that night surrounded in warmth, feeling the happiest he’d ever been.

“Hey, Techno?” Wilbur asks. If Techno didn’t have sensitive hearing his brother’s hushed voice would’ve been missed. He shuffles around in bed, debating whether or not to reply, sitting up with a yawn, spying the boy also sitting up and staring out the window.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna be a king someday.”

“Why?”

Wilbur smiles at him. He looks years older, at that moment, than he truly was. The flame of passion burned in his golden eyes, the moonlight framing him like he was an angel, hands gesturing about. “It seems fun. You get to do whatever you want, say whatever you want, build whatever you want, and all kinds of other things! And a whole bunch of people will look up to you! It would be amazing...we could have a whole nation to ourselves.”

“...”

badbadnotgoodwontbegood

R̵u̵l̸e̶ ̷o̴v̵e̶r̸ ̸t̵h̷e̵m̸ ̶a̶l̷l̵ ̶w̴i̵t̸h̵ ̶a̸n̸ ̷i̸r̸o̵n̶ ̵f̵i̴s̷t̸

“If I become king, will you be there with me?”

saynosaynosaynosaynosayno

K̵i̷l̴l̷ ̵e̷v̸e̸r̵y̶o̸n̴e̷ ̶w̷h̶o̷ ̴s̷t̶a̵n̵d̸s̴ ̴i̵n̵ ̴y̵o̵u̷r̸ ̵w̶a̶y̸

“Of course, Wilbur.”

Techno was eleven when he first shapeshifted.

He remembers waking up in bed as he normally did and shuffling into the bathroom. The familiar sound of Phil preparing breakfast echoed upstairs and the smell of fresh eggs and hashbrowns came following not long after. He didn’t realize it, at first, brain working out of sleep mode, but when Techno finished brushing his teeth and looked up in the mirror, the reflection that greeted him back wasn’t his own.

“DAD?!”

Panicked footsteps came rushing up the stairs, the bathroom door being slammed open, Phil quickly entering with a sword in hand.

“Techno? What’s wrong-” once he saw his son standing over the faucet, he stopped, eyes going wide in shock. “...Wilbur?”

“N-No, dad, i-it’s me. I just. I woke up this way I…” Techno ran his hands over his face, both marveling and terrified of the unfamiliar features he felt. He looked nearly identical to his brother. Oddly enough, his ears were still pointed near the tips, his hair was still abnormally bright pink, and he still had a curly tail.

“Dad? Techno? What’s wrong I heard a scream- Woah!” Wilbur’s head came peeking around Phil’s still form in the doorway, slipping past so he could reach Techno, grasping his hands. “That’s so cool! You look just like me! I told you we were twins! This is so awesome!”

While the two marveled over Techno’s new talent, helping shift between pigman and human, Phil dropped his head in his hands, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Techno takes up sparring in his teens.

He found that, as he grows older, there is too much energy in his veins that his daily chores aren’t enough. It was Phil’s idea, having spotted Techno using a branch as a sword against a tree, seeing how his moves were slow and sloppy from inexperience, but the technique was there and behind each swing came natural strength.

“You remind me of when I was younger,” Phil said good-naturedly, handing over a neatly wrapped box. “I became an adventurer so I could help my parents, but I always loved fighting. I grew out of it, eventually, but it was good for me. I think it might be good for you too.”

Inside the box was an iron sword. The handle of the sword was bound with leather, the hilt decorated yet minimal enough that it didn’t take away from its beauty, and the blade was at least the length of his entire arm. Techno weighed the sword in his right hand, slashing delicately at the air with a novice-like apprehension, and as he did so the reflection of the fireplace flames danced warmly within the cool steel.

“Dad, how much did this-”

“That doesn’t matter. Let’s go test this out, huh? There’s a new training dummy in the backyard. I don’t want you mutilating any more trees.” Techno leaped over the table and tackled his father in a hug, burying his face against his neck, mumbling a soft thanks. Phil laughs and wraps Techno up in his wings, the feathers a familiar safety net.

And so, every day after his daily chores, Techno trained in the backyard. Occasionally Wilbur would come and watch, sitting on a log nearby reading a book out loud for him or practicing his newest song, and sometimes Phil would watch from the porch, coming over to give Techno tips or show him new moves. Most of the time, though, it was just Techno. From sunrise to sunset Techno was out there, feeling his body grow stronger as the weeks went on, rushing into his soul keeping the flame healthy and bright. His new hobby, however, came with a price.

The voices grew louder.

With each swing, Techno could feel their power over him grow, their whispers becoming full-blown shouts in his ears until they were ringing, hands gripping his arms increasing the strength of his swings.

youcankilleveryone

n̷̼̝͠ö̷͕́ ̷͓̈́̚ỏ̷͓̔ń̵͚͖e̵̬͗ ̵͉̇s̶͓͈t̴̘a̶̩̽n̵̮̎ḓ̷̭̃s̸̡̒͆ ̶̪͕͂̑a̶̩͒͝ ̷͚̓c̸̬̱̑͠h̴̢̜̅a̷̤͍̅̇n̵̮̜̐c̴̰̪̈́͝e̷̅͜

Thwack.

theydontstandachanceagainstyou

s̷o̷ ̶m̶u̷c̵h̵ ̷b̵l̸o̸o̴d̷ ̷c̸o̴u̵l̸d̶ ̸b̷e̴ ̴s̷p̶i̸l̸t̶

Thwack.

youcandestroythemallandruleovertheirlands

i̷t̶ ̶c̷o̶u̸l̸d̴ ̶a̴l̴l̶ ̴b̷e̸ ̸o̶u̴r̷s̵

Thwack.

theirbloodwillflowthroughtheriverssandyouwillconquerthemall-

B̴̟̓Ĺ̵͔ͅO̸̜͊͜O̵͕͑͘Ď̴̡ ̶̟̐F̴̬̖̔O̵̡̎̓ͅȐ̷̫̍ ̵̢̗̉T̷͉̈́Ĥ̴͖̀E̸̝̭͂ ̶̛̯̈́B̶͎̋L̵̠̓̄Õ̶̰̜O̶̺D̸̙̽ͅ ̴͕͗G̸̺̎̎O̸̡͈͋D̷̟̓

Crack.

The training dummy lays on the grass having been broken off his stick. Techno stands over it panting hard, sweating dripping down his back, blood pumping in his ears. It was all just so damn loud-

“Wow. You really didn’t give the dummy a chance, huh?” A voice- an outside voice- whistles from the treeline. Sword in hand, Techno wheels on the stranger, but finds nothing out of the ordinary. The trees sway in the wind.

Techno scans the area, keeping an eye for any sudden movements, anything that could hint towards their position. He refused to let anyone get near his home. “Where the hell are you? How long have you been here?”

“Uh, around the time when you cut off the dummy’s head.” They said thoughtfully. Techno squints. “And I‘m not telling you where I am.”

“Why?”

“Because then it’ll be my head rolling on the ground.” Based on their voice alone, Techno guessed they were male. The villagers didn’t speak the language as they, and any adventurers passing by never made it to their cottage, sticking near the main roads where mobs rarely ventured.

“What’s your name?”

Creation

C̷h̵a̶o̸s̸

“Dream, actually. I haven’t gone by that in many decades.” Techno’s blood ran cold.

“You...can hear them..?”

“It’s more of a whisper, really. Nothing too terribly coherent or as clear as you. It’s good to know I’m not alone, then,” the grin in the bastard’s smug voice was clear as day. “I have spent a long time searching for someone else like me. Never thought I’d find you here.”

“You can hear them.” Techno snapped. “How! Why can’t the others?!”

The disembodied voice whined dramatically. “Ah, too many questions.”

“ANSWER ME!” With as much force as he could, Techno threw his sword. The moment it made contact with his target the birds were sent flying from their nests, silence falling over the forest. Techno waited. After a couple of minutes, there were footsteps and, soon, a teen stepped out from the treeline, carrying Techno’s sword, his shoulder sliced and bleeding. He wore a mask with a smiley face scribbled across it, hiding his face from view. He didn't seem much older than Techno, skinny and lean like Wilbur, dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.

“Impressive. I thought I kept my voice level enough so you couldn’t pinpoint where I was.”

“Not level enough, apparently. Now, answer my question.”

“It’s too soon,” Dream, the bastard, stabbed the sword into the grass, leaning against it like he would a cane. “You’re too young.”

“What does that mean? Why are you here then? Why bother me now?”

“I didn’t mean to. You would have noticed me eventually. Or, well, not you per se,” he waves his hand about. “The ‘voices’ as you call them.” There were so many questions burning on the forefront of Techno’s mind, but any moment now Wilbur or Phil would come looking for him. He didn’t want to know what Dream would do to them. “I was here for a friend, actually.”

“What? No one else lives here except my family and I.” Did Phil know this lunatic? There was no way Wilbur did, and Techno knew their father had encountered many strange people along with his adventures.

“Hmm, I guess that’s true,” Dream hums, tapping a finger against the mouth of his mask, head tilted upwards in thought. “Oh well. I gave it a shot. I’ll be going, then.”

“Wait-” Techno stepped forward. Dream stance immediately becomes defensive, coiled, and prepared for an attack. “I’m not gonna fight you, you idiot.” Dream relaxes and gestures for him to continue. “I just... I have a question.”

“...well, ask away.”

“What…” What should he ask? There were so many questions he couldn’t figure out which took more importance. “What am I?”

“Why,” Dream suddenly seemed much taller, his mask’s smile a lot wider, half bowing with his hands waving outwards. “You’re the Blood God’s vassal.”

Underneath Techno’s foot, the stairs creaked and he cursed.

“Techno, is that you?” Phil’s tired voice rang from down the hall. Techno half debated climbing back up into bed and pretending he never came down in the first place.

“...yeah.”

“I’m in the kitchen.” With a sigh, Techno climbs the rest of the stairs and heads into the kitchen. Phil was leaning against the counter sipping a cup of tea when Techno entered. The bags under his eyes seemed much more prominent than usual and his wings were pulled close to his back. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah. You?” He takes a seat by the island. Phil passes him another cup of tea which Techno murmurs his thanks into.

“Eh, you know me. Just old man things.” Everything about him was calm and collected, but Techno could see himself unraveling at the seams. “Nothing I can’t handle. Wil know you’re up?”

Techno snorts. “He can sleep through anything.” He pauses. “I didn’t...want to bother anyone.” There’s a shuffle of clothes and the skid of a stood being moved to his left. With a soft oomph, Phil takes his seat beside Techno, wing comfortingly wrapping around the teen.

“Want to talk about it?” It was a simple question with so much meaning behind it. Phil had a way of doing that. Techno stares into his cup, his reflection staring back in the brown liquid, a couple bags of his own beginning to form under his eyes.

“...I met someone.”

“Oh. Is it a girl..?”

youareoursandoursalone

n̵o̶ ̶o̸n̷e̸ ̴c̷o̵u̸l̷d̸ ̵t̷a̴k̷e̴ ̴y̶o̶u̷ ̴f̸r̵o̷m̴ ̵u̸s̴

“What- no. It’s…” Techno buried his face in his hands. “It’s a long story. Complicated.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we have all night.” A gentle hand places itself against his back, rubbing against the tense muscles. Techno breathes heavily. Slowly, he begins explaining everything; the voices, his life in the Nether, how he survived, how he killed, the nightmares he had, what the voices whispered to him, what Dream told him that day, how he couldn’t get it out of his mind. “What- what if he’s right? He...I know I shouldn’t believe him, but there was just...I felt like I knew him. As if I’d grown up with him and I didn’t. I’d never met him before in my life.”

Phil sits forward, hands folded atop the table, index fingers pressed against his lips, eyes closed in thought. Once Techno was done talking, he resumed staring into the tea that had now gone cold, a thin circle of milk swirling around the center.

“There...is a sickness. At least, that’s what we can call it up here. Sometimes when people venture into the Nether they don’t return the same way as they left. It starts with just voices. Whispers. In a week, they become a savage beast, wanting nothing more than to kill anything that comes into their sight, everything that made them the person they were before now lost and forgotten. A couple mates of mine got inflicted with it. I watched them.” Phil’s voice is level, but he doesn’t talk any louder than a whisper.

“Dad…am I...”

“No. It would have changed you already if that was the case. If what that person told you is true then you’re safe...but I don’t know for how long.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Just calling it a feeling. Dads get those sorts of things.”

“...what should I do?”

Phil doesn’t respond immediately. He reaches an arm over and gently pulls Techno into a hug, holding him close. “We’ll figure this out, son,” he brings his hand up to brush affectionately through Techno’s hair. And if he hears soft sobs come from the pigman, shoulders shuddering, squeaking occasionally against his control, he doesn’t mention it. “We’ll work through this. We’ll be alright.”

“You said that before...when I first came here…”

“And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah... we’ll be alright...”

For a long time, it was just the three of them. It had just been them, side by side, taking whatever the world threw at them.

And then, it wasn’t anymore.

“Techno, Wilbur, I want you to meet someone,” Phil said one stormy night, having left home on a mining foray since they were running out of spare ores. Wilbur was tossed across the couch, long limbs going everywhere, lazily strumming his guitar as he toyed with his newest song. Techno sat on the corner of the couch like a normal person reading the Art of War, a book Phil bought him for his fifteenth birthday, Wilbur’s foot resting on his shoulder, having long since given up on pushing it away, pink hair tied up in a messy bun.

“The last time you said that you were drunk and kept calling a fridge our mom.” Wilbur chimes. Techno snickers, turning another page. “You even tried convincing me that she was my real mom.”

“I thought I told you both never to bring them up again,” Phil said sternly, having stepped into the living room, shaking the rain out of his wings, ringing water out of his hat.

“Come on, dad, you know it’s all in good fun.” He tilts his head back over the armrest to direct an innocent smile towards his dad. Phil gives an unimpressed look in return. “Who did you want us to meet?”

“Right. Come on, mate. No need to be shy.”

“f*ck you. ‘M not shy.” A squeaky voice grumbled. Techno abruptly stopped reading his book. Wilbur strung a bad note, nearly launching himself on top of Techno in his attempt at sitting up. Peeking out from around Phil’s leg was a boy no older than seven. His hair was a soaked mop of blond strands, framing his eyes which were yellow and blue, heat practically radiating off him, his ears pointed and cupped that almost resembled Techno’s. Both Techno and Wilbur were speechless, simply staring towards the child that was glaring right back at them, clutching onto Phil’s pants in small hands.

“...dad.” Wilbur breaks the silence. He was giving the two his full attention now. “You can’t be serious.”

“Is he a slime?” Techno asks, watching a droplet of goop slip off the boy’s chin that he quickly scrubbed away.

“I think a magma cube, actually. I found him seeking shelter during the storm. Turns out the little guy doesn’t have any family and, well,” Phil shrugs letting the silence finish his sentence.

“Dad.” Techno groans, setting his sword aside, burying his face in his hands.

“What would you rather have me do? Leave him out there? In the pouring rain and cold? Alone? The poor thing doesn’t have shoes. This will be the last orphan I take in, I swear.” Techno glances down and, indeed, he didn’t have any shoes, dirty socked feet tracking mud onto the floors.

“The outside f*cking sucks.” The kid piped up then went back to hiding behind Phil.

“Where is he gonna sleep?” Wilbur brings up reasonably, eyeing the situation with apprehension. Techno just grumbles some more, unsure of how he felt about everything that's happening. He liked it being just the three of them.

“I’ve been thinking of expanding the house some more. For now, in your room with the two of you until I can build extra rooms.”

“Absolutely not,” Techno lifts his head up and glares. “It was hard enough learning to sleep with this snoring asshole.”

“Hey, you sleep talk.” Wilbur retorts. The two glare at each other without any real heat behind it, Techno’s curly tail beating against the armrest, Wilbur stubbornly crossing his arms.

“Boys,” Phil sighs tiredly. Only then does Techno realize just how exhausted Phil looks, how his wings curl around himself and droop, still dripping water onto the floor, using the wall to keep himself upright. “I have been flying through the rain for the past few hours. I’m going to dry off and change. Can you two warm-up some stew so we can continue this over dinner.”

The brothers eye each other for a moment, daring the other to make the first move.

“...fine,” Techno relents and gets up, ignoring Wilbur’s blubbering protests, eyeing the boy. “What's your name?”

“I don’t have one.” The boy said indignantly, nose turned up. “I never saw a use for one.”

“Well, that won’t do. Do we have any ideas?” Phil glances between the twins, Techno shrugging helplessly, not saying any of the names that were whispered to him by the voices.

“What about…” Wilbur was eyeing the magma cube kid with a twinkle in his eye. The same one he got when he worked on naming his songs or naming their farm animals. “Tommy.”

Tommy, as it turns out, was exactly what Techno hated.

Tommy was brash and tireless and he didn’t hesitate in anything he did. He laughed loud and bright and, despite everything that was thrown at him, he didn’t let it stop him. Tommy had eyes of pure mischief and a heart of gold; with the spark of the child and a smile that went all the way through to his core.

He’d never shut up, he didn’t understand boundaries, he would constantly steal his socks and lose them, he plays his discs during odd hours of the night. Wilbur was clearly his older brother; more often than not Tommy was attached to Wilbur’s hips, rambling along and helping with the chores, clearly seeking his approval and, if Wilbur did happen to tell what a good job he did or laugh at a joke, Tommy would spend the rest of the day bragging about it.

This is why it came as a surprise to Techno when he was woken up in the middle of the night, his younger brother standing beside his bed, the yellow in his eyes had turned orange from all his previous crying.

“Tommy..? What time is it?” Techno yawned and sat up the best he could. When he opened his mouth to speak the words came out fitfully, the sounds half-swallowed by a sobbing noise. “Oh.” He mumbles unsure of how he was supposed to react. It was always him crawling into his brother's bed when the voices became too loud for him or having Phil make him a hot cup of cocoa while he told him what he could remember. “Alright, get in here before I change my mind.”

Wordlessly, Tommy climbs into his bed, Techno wrapping the duvet tightly around his shoulders, the two laying side by side, Tommy with both arms cushioned under his head catching the tears and snot that came slipping down his face. Techno sighs at the slime mess that was now beginning to stain his sheets. He hated laundry. “Want to talk about it?”

“N...no…” He’d never heard Tommy sound so broken up. The boy was always so charismatic, wearing his heart on his sleeve but never letting his sadness get the best of him.

“That’s fine.” Techno moves around until he’s comfortable, face buried against his pillow, hair draping around him. He can hear Tommy yawn and shift about in the bed. Then there is a hand clutching his sweater, fingers curled into the soft material. He isn’t sure how long it takes but when he lifts his head the boy is fast asleep. “Idiot.” He mumbles fondly, tugging the duvet further up over Tommy’s shoulder so he wouldn’t get cold, burying himself back into his pillow and returning to sleep.

Tommy doesn’t bring it up in the morning. Techno doesn’t either. But if Tommy starts sitting in during Techno’s sword training, cheering him on or rambling about his day, filling the silence with his exaggerated stories, he doesn’t mind it.

Maybe having a little brother wasn’t that bad.

They were visiting the village for supplies. The holiday had ended earlier that month and the festival celebrating it finally came to a close so most wares were on sale before they got new goods.

“Don’t spend too much, boys,” Phil said, handing them each a set amount of emeralds. “Especially you, Tommy. I refuse to let you fill the house with diamond blocks again.”

“Hey! I’m a damn good decorator, I’ll have you know,” Tommy puffs his cheeks out, greedily taking the emeralds. Techno follows Wilbur once he sets off, clearly having his mind set on something already, Tommy scrambling to keep up with the twins, chattering away.

The day was soon dwindling to an end. Wilbur bought himself a new guitar and some new sweaters, Tommy bought a cow (“A cow, Tommy, really? You couldn’t have been more creative?” “We have a connection!”) and a jukebox to play music on, and Techno bought a couple new swords and books. Phil was still taking his time browsing so the three wandered about the village exploring different shops.

“Hey, Blade!” Tommy calls from further inside the shepherd's store.

“He’s over there,” Wilbur said, able to see over all the numerous racks of clothes, pulling Techno to where their brother was. “What is it, Tommy?”

“You should totally buy this!” He spun on his heel and held up a red cape, accented by gold and fur lining the collar, the material swishing with his excited movements. “It’ll make you look so cool! And you’ll be a total hit with the ladies.”

“Tommy, shut up.” Wilbur smacked Tommy over the head. He took the cape while their brother complained about having a concussion, eyeing it. “The material is good. Would keep you warm during winter, but not stuffy enough that you’d sweat during summer.”

“Yea, and how much is it? Dad has already spent a fortune on everything else.” Techno said reasonably. He’d never admit it, but he didn’t feel like he deserved such a luxurious gift. It looked like something a king deserved, not a pigman.

“I’ll use my pocket cash. And no, you don’t get a say in this. We’re buying it.”

“f*ck yeah! You’re gonna look so damn cool, big man!”

“Kill me- kill me Technoblade just kill me- stab me- stab me with the sword-”

“Stop! I’m not going to kill you, Wil, you’re my brother!”

“You already have.”

Techno blinks and looks down. His hands gripped the hilt of a diamond sword splattered in blood, stabbed into the chest of his brother, his own hand gripping the blade. There was a crooked smile on his face, blood dripping down his mouth. “No- no no no no no no NO!” He screamed and pressed his hands to the stab, but no matter the amount of pressure he applied, the blood had still gushed between his fingers and oozed under his hand, hot and fresh.

“It’s too late. You’ve already killed me.” When Techno looks up again, Phil has taken Wilbur’s place, wings mangled and feathers torn out tossed around his crumpled form, a bittersweet smile on his face. With a bloody hand, he cups Techno’s cheek, holding it fondly. Behind him, Wilbur stood by a button, grinning maniacally “Oh, my boy. My poor, poor boy...why have you done this..?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to! I just- I-” Wilbur slams the button and TNT explodes the room.

“T-Techno..?” And then it was Tommy. Oh, Tommy. The poor boy looked so confused and scared, stumbling forward a couple times, collapsing to his knees. Behind him, a pair of withers destroy the world around them, people screaming as they are slaughtered. Techno rushes forward so he could scoop his younger brother in his arms, holding him close, tears stinging at his eyes. “Wh- why did you…you k-killed us...”

“I didn’t mean to, Tommy, I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry. I’m so f*cking sorry…” He sobbed, begging Tommy to stay with him, feeling the very fluid of his life drain away over his cold hands.

No, you aren’t. A hand rests on his shoulder. You wanted to kill them. You always have.

“No- they’re my family!”

godshavenoneedforfamily

o̶n̴l̸y̴ ̴s̸a̶c̶r̶i̴f̵i̷c̶e̷s̵

Techno whips around. He was in the Nether, the familiar red haze and heat causing him to break out in a cold sweat, a ghast screams in the distance. His parents laid upon the ground, lifeless, a piglet sitting between them covered in blood, staring up at Techno. When Techno blinks, the child is in front of him and grins, pushing him firmly on the chest and sending him spiraling into a pool of lava.

“Make it all stop...”

“There is no stopping it,” standing in front of him was an older version of himself, covered in scars from previous battles and wars, a ruby cloak with gold embroidery dawning his shoulders, a gold crown adorned with different gems sat atop his head. He crouches, a trident in hand, eyes nothing but white just like the piglin. “When the Blood God demands blood, you must deliver.”

“Why...why me..?” He implores. His counterpart, for the briefest of moments, looks remorseful then sighs. He brings the trident down and presses it to Techno’s chest, staring down with a blank expression.

“Because you were chosen.”

And he stabs him, the trident driven straight through his heart.

Techno wakes up with a pained gasp, shooting up in bed. It was still dark out. The curtains were pulled back, allowing moonlight to seep into the bedroom. Without thinking, Techno climbed out of bed, stumbling out of his room, ignoring how his muscles burned and his chest ached. He first checked on Wilbur, spying the teen neatly tucked under his quilt and snoring away, then Tommy, the boy haphazardly stretched across his bed, blankets thrown about every which way and his pillow resting across his face.

“It was just a dream...” Techno whispers and shuts the door gently. He slides to the floor, back pressed against the door. His hands were on his knees, struggling to regulate his breathing into something manageable, the world around him spinning. “Just...a dream...they’re safe...safe...”

butforhowmuchlonger?

y̴o̶u̵ ̸c̴a̶n̸t̶ ̵r̵u̶n̵ ̵f̴o̵r̵e̷v̸e̵r̶

“It’s about time you showed, asshole.” Techno spat, eyeing the trees with a sword in hand. Dream was stretched out across a branch like a cat, an arm cushioning his head, mask turned towards Techno. The only difference was his hair had grown, tied back into a neat bun.

“You grew fast.” Dream drawls out. Techno, now seventeen, having grown taller and filled out to the point that it was nearly impossible to tell he was a runt, stabs his sword into the ground and crosses his arms. “It’s time.”

“Yeah, I figured that out considering you’re back.”

“Now, we fight.”

“...here?!”

“No. Somewhere far away. Where we have nothing holding us back. There is...someone important here.” He still spoke cryptically, providing just enough information to answer the question while also sparking more in the process. “Say your goodbyes. You won’t be returning for some time.”

“I have another question for you.” Techno watched Dream groan, eventually waving a hand, indicating for him to continue. “Will they be safe?” He doesn’t have to specify who. There are only three people he cared about and it was clear Dream knew who they were. Dream is silent, as if not having expected the question, his head facing the sky. From the angle Techno stood at, he could see the slightest hint of freckled skin underneath the damn mask.

“...the voices will direct you to the location. I’ll be waiting, Technoblade.”

“How the f*ck do you know my name-” in a flash of green, he was gone. “Asshole.”

Techno hated when Tommy cried.

“Do you have to leave? I mean, I’ve only had you for three years! That’s not enough time for a big brother! Wil had you for longer!” Tommy whines, fat tears rolling down his face, cheeks bright red, clutching Techno’s cloak preventing him from stepping away.

“I told you, it’s complicated. And I’ll be back. I’ll bring a bunch of cool stuff with me too.” Techno reassures him softly, affectionately tousling Tommy’s hair.

“Why can’t I come with you, big T? I won’t get in the way, I promise. We’d have a great time.”

“Right. You can’t even lift up a sword.” He teases, pressing his mouth against Tommy’s forehead in a kiss. For once, Tommy didn’t protest, bringing himself closer and hugging Techno close. While the teen could get on his nerves, he had really grown to care for him over the years. “I’ll be back, Tommy.”

“Make sure to write when you get the chance,” Phil says, having brought down the last of Techno’s bags for him, resting a hand on his son’s arm, smiling sadly. They had already said their tearful goodbyes the night before so Tommy and Wilbur wouldn’t witness their father's breakdown, Techno repeatedly reassuring his father he’d come home safe and sound, having stayed up together until the sun was rising over the mountains and trees. “We’ll be alright back here.”

“I promise. Every chance I get.” Techno promises. Weakly, he breaks the hug with Tommy, giving his shoulder one last pat. He glances around. “Where’s Wilbur?”

Phil glances outside the door towards the stables. “Saddling up the horse. He...be easy with him. He’s taking this the hardest.” Slinging his bags over his shoulder and giving the two one last hug, Techno stepped through the door heading towards the stable. Wilbur was brushing the horse’s mane, saddled up and ready for him, not turning when Techno began loading his bags up.

“...so, you’re really leaving,” Wilbur mumbled. His hair was covering the side of his face that Techno could see hiding whatever expression he wore. His movements were robotic, stance tense.

“Yeah. I have to.” Techno finished strapping his bag in place. He didn’t know how far he was going, but the voices told him it would be a long journey so he prepared what he could, hoping there would be many more villages along the way for pit stops.

Suddenly, Wilbur spun on him. “No, you don’t! You can just stay here! There is no reason for you to go out there and fight that f*cking maniac!” He screamed. He refused to look away, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders heaved with emotion, unwilling to back down.

Tears clung heavily to his dark lashes. His hands were clenched into shaking fists, in a desperate battle against his own grief and fear at losing his brother. A lone tear slipped down his cheek, and just like that, the floodgates opened. He wept, tears streaming from his golden eyes, loud, heaving sobs tearing from his throat, and still, he did not look away. “Please- please, Techno, stay. We- I need you. You’re my brother. Please...I can’t lose you.”

“Wil...” Techno pulls Wilbur into a crushing hug. He might’ve been shorter than his brother but he didn’t let it get in the way. Wilbur sobbed into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his cape. He held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked his chest.

“And you’re still wearing the stupid f*cking cape...” He murmurs. Techno presses his face against Wilbur’s hair, sighing softly, acting as a warm presence for him to vent everything out on. He always did have a hard time expressing his emotions the older he got.

“You bought it for me. I think there’s a rule somewhere in big brother etiquette that I kinda have to.” He jokes lightly, smiling when it gets a snicker out of Wilbur. “I’ll be back, Will, I promise. I’m not going away forever. I just...this is something I need to do for myself. I’ll be sending letters to keep in touch as well. Is there something you want me to bring back in particular?”

“Just stay in one piece, you idiot.” Wilbur sighs, deflating in Techno’s arms, knowing once he had his mind set on something there was no changing it, and Techno was set on getting answers.

“Keep an eye on dad and Tommy for me while I’m gone. I know Tommy gets on your nerves, but he really looks up to you.”

“...you really are the older one. And all this time I hoped it would be me. That maybe we’d discover some long lost birth records that made you younger.”

“Not my fault you’re a beta male and I’m cooler.” There is a pregnant pause before the two burst out into laughter, clutching each other close, committing the hug to memory.

Being a God, Technoblade realized, wasn’t as half bad as he thought it’d be.

There were so many different worlds that Dream showed him.

“They’re called Realms,” Dream told him over what constituted as dinner The two were recovering from their latest duel, Techno using the stream that cut through the forest for a mirror with a hunting knife slicing through his hair, the pink strands falling into a messy pile around his hunched form. He loved his long hair, but he quickly learned how much of a hindrance it was in battle. His scalp was still sore after Dream nearly tugged his braid off during their fight. “I’ve even created one.”

“You did?” Techno snorted in disbelief, chewing on his mutton.

“Well, a version of me did. It’s complicated. Anyways, we can travel to them freely. Mortals require permission- an invitation if you will. This one-” he gestures around the world around them, the flames reflecting against his mask, the stupid band-aids scattered across all the cracks. “Is mine.”

“What’s it called?”

“Dream SMP.”

“...you really enjoy stroking your own ego, don’tcha?”

heistooco*ckytoostrong

y̵o̶u̸ ̶s̵h̷o̴u̵l̵d̸ ̶k̶i̵l̶l̸ ̴h̸i̴m̷

Nearly every Realm was a carbon copy of each other with a few differences; new cities, new people, sometimes new mobs, some completely barren of any life, and some overpopulated till it congested. Hypixel became Techno’s favorite besides Home (he refused to call it Dream SMP just to watch Dream fume), a hub for people to hone their skills and battle against others for glory and fame.

“Why are you so interested in me?” Techno asked one morning, the two preparing for another war they had somehow found themselves in. Not that Techno was complaining; wars meant blood for the blood god, which meant appeasing the voices. Dream stood amongst the trees adorning his brand new set of enchanted netherite armor they’d gotten after a rather nostalgic venture to the Nether, and readjusting his poncho over the chest plate. “There are other gods. Hell, I’ve fought some of them. But why me?”

“Because I never created you.” Dream said simply. He turned, the black dots on his mask staring into Techno’s soul. “Everything on the SMP- every blade of grass and grain of sand- I created with my very two hands. You- you were an anomaly. I simply found that interesting. And,” he sets a hand on Techno’s shoulder, having begun to step past, his voice going lower, hysteria seeping into it.

“You’re the reason I’m not bored anymore.”

Phil, as it turns out, lied when he told them Tommy would be the last orphan he took in.

“Who’re they?” Dream, the nosy f*cker, asked, a head poked over Techno’s shoulder. In Phil’s latest letter there was a photo attached along with a gift for his twentieth birthday.

Phil stood in the back with his wings stretched out to encompass the others, his long hair having been buzzed short, eyes scrunched up and smiling widely. Wilbur had a hand tucked away in a pocket and was looking away from the camera, clearly not happy about being there, a hand holding up a peace sign behind Tommy’s head giving him bunny ears. Tommy had his arms thrown about a messy brown-haired boy with little ram horns, smiling from ear-to-ear, blurry in the photo from his constant movement. The unfamiliar boy with blue eyes and a sheepish smile must’ve been Tubbo.

“I found him in a box,” Phil wrote in the attached letter. “I just couldn’t leave him out there. He’s been sharing Tommy’s room and the two are inseparable. He’s been helping me around the house and has an odd fascination with bees. You’d like him.”

“My family.” Techno smiled.

Techno’s letters grew farther and farther apart in time.

In the first few months, he sent a letter nearly every week, telling of his adventures and the things he’d seen, books for Wilbur and new discs for Tommy and seeds for Phil’s farm being sent alongside them. Slowly the weeks turned to months and months became years. It certainly pleased the voices well enough, no longer threatening his family with whispers of death and murder, happy that he no longer had anything holding him back from quenching their endless hunger for spilt blood, but the guilt weighed heavy in Techno’s gut.

“No letter this time?” Dream had asked, genuinely sounding surprised. Techno’s last letter was a year ago.

“They don’t need to know what I’ve been doing lately,” Techno mumbled. He sat by a river, scrubbing a rag down his axe, scraping off dried blood from another false idol they’d hunted down, the red-turned-brown flakes polluting the once crystal clear water.

“Alright, well, I’ll be heading back to the SMP for some time. I have some business to take care of, so you’ll be on your own for a while. Let me know if you change your mind about the letters” He hated to admit it, but he’d developed a hate-love relationship with Dream. While the man could be straight up insufferable most days, he was also the closest thing Techno had to kin. Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy were his family, but Dream understood him.

“Not my problem. If anything, this is a plus for me. Now I don’t have to see your green ass everywhere.”

“You love me.” Dream singsongs, clasping his hands together and squishing them against his cheek, practically radiating flowers and rainbows and sunshine. It made Techno sick.

“I almost killed you during our last duel.” He scraped harder on his sword for emphasis, the sharp edge glinting in the sunlight. “Wanna test how far that love goes?”

“Alright, alright! Point taken!” Despite everything, Techno was smiling. He liked his new life. Constant action, always a threat to battle, people to beat. It reminded him of his life in the Nether.

But, some days, he’d find himself longing for the old days where he’d spar in the backyard, Tommy cheering him on from the sidelines and Wilbur working on his newest songs until Phil came and called them for dinner.

He missed his family.

SMPEarth was a breath of fresh air in Techno’s repetitive life. Nearly all the people who had been invited were gods and goddesses or otherwise mortals who had done such admirable feats that the Creators felt inclined to let them join. His goal was simple; world domination. Really, it was just to test the limits of his strength and willpower now that he didn’t have Dream looming over his shoulder. It was survival of the fittest and Techno had spent his entire childhood learning how to withstand whatever was thrown at him.

gonorththereislanduntouchedlandforus

p̴r̵e̵p̶a̵r̵e̵ ̶y̷o̵u̶r̵ ̴r̸e̷s̴o̴u̸r̶c̸e̵s̷ ̴c̸o̸n̸q̷u̸e̸r̷ ̵t̵h̸e̵m̵ ̶a̶l̵l̸

So, Techno went North.

Past the endless forests and deserts, through nations building their walls and shaking the hands of peace with crossed fingers behind their backs, killing those foolish enough to hunt him down. Until, finally, his destination was reached. There is no more color in the Arctic, only a blank white page, untouched by anything else. Though the night seemed never-ending and the cold bit harder with every passing hour, each one was a step closer to his ultimate uprise. Until then, he had a job to do, and he would do it to the best of his ability.

And when Techno defeated the creatures that roamed the fortress of an ancient civilization long since forgotten, he knew that his patience hadn’t been for naught, that his suffering had finally paid off. As those who had dared venture into his lands watched him plant the flag into the snow, the banner telling of his claim over the land and his conquest, his manic laughter echoing across the tundra, they knew there was no hope.

The Antarctic Empire was born.

Techno woke up from a restless sleep to the resounding sounds of pounding on his front door. He’d just returned from a war against his next-door nation and the fatigue of the long journey still plagued his body. As he sat up, his bones cracked, snout buried between his hands, having been too exhausted to even shift into his preferred form. Eventually, Techno got out of bed and stumbled across to the other side of the room when the knocks came again, louder and stronger than before.

“‘M coming!” He shouted and cleared his throat. Tugging his cloak around himself as one did a robe, Techno headed out through the fortress he’d made his new home, grabbing a sword along the way just in case. He lifted the latches that kept the wooden gates shut, easing the old doors open allowing bitter gusts of wind to come barreling inside, snow being thrown across the cobblestone floors. “What the hell do you wa...” The words die on Techno’s tongue. “...dad?”

Phil was dressed in heavy furs and covered in snow, but even in the unfamiliar clothes, Techno recognized the black wings that hugged his shivering form, blue eyes softening upon the sight of him. Before Phil could draw in the air his body needed to speak, Techno had melted into his form, pulling the smaller man into his grasp. He could feel his firm torso and the heart that beats within, feeling like a piglet all over again, shaken up from a nightmare and crawling into his father’s bed for comfort.

“Oh, Techno…” Phil murmurs, burying his face into Techno’s shoulder. His hands are folded around his back, drawing him in closer. Techno could feel his body shake and, before he realized it, felt tears slip down his face for the missed time they could never make back, crying to release the tension of these long years. Phil pulls back just far enough so he could cup Techno’s face and wipes the tears with a calloused finger. Even this roughness brought more relief than his heart could hold. “As much as I enjoy the hug, can I come inside? I have been traveling through the snow for the past week and my wings are freezing off.”

“Right- f*ck- come in,” as if his father was made of fragile glass, Techno gently ushered him inside, slamming the gates shut and letting the latches fall back into their rightful place. Phil stood in the stair hall, taking in everything that Techno had cleaned up after deciding to live in the fortress since he was rather sh*t at building, removing a couple layers and warming up his hands. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me? I haven’t-” the letters. Techno hadn’t sent a letter in nearly four years. The guilt hit him all at once. “I…has it really been that long..?”

“It has. It doesn’t feel like it, I know. Especially when you get to my age, the days seem to just blur together.” And yet Phil sounds at ease, not the slightest bit upset, but Techno knows deep down his father had distressed.

“I meant to write.”

youdidntheknowsyoudidnt

w̸h̷y̴ ̶n̷o̷t̴ ̶t̶e̸l̵l̸ ̵t̴h̸e̸m̵ ̷w̶h̷a̴t̶ ̶w̴e̷'̵v̷e̵ ̷d̸o̷n̵e̷ ̴w̴h̸a̵t̵ ̶w̶e̴'̵v̴e̸ ̴a̸c̵c̶o̸m̵p̴l̷i̶s̴h̸e̵d̷?̷

“Shut up.” Techno grumbles, having spent so long with just himself and the voices residing in the fortress that he’d taken to speaking out loud with them. Sometimes, they’d hold conversations that could stretch throughout the day. Sometimes, he’d get no response.

“Still hearing them, huh?” Phil stepped over and cupped Techno’s face again. There was a sad smile on his face. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Why are you here? The others-”

He sighs and his wings droop. “Left. About a year ago, actually. Wil and I...there were a lot of things said. Things I regret. The next thing I knew, he was packing his things and storming out the door. Tommy and Tubbo went rushing after him.”

“Dad…” Techno didn’t know things had gotten so messy. The last time he saw them, they had all been so attached and, despite all of Wilbur’s empty threats, he had thought they’d all live together forever. “Do you know where they went?”

youjustdidntwanttogobackyoudidntwantthemtoneedyou

b̸u̸t̷ ̶t̸h̸e̸y̶ ̷d̷o̵n̸'̶t̸ ̶n̶e̷e̵d̵ ̷y̶o̸u̸ ̴t̴h̵e̴y̸ ̷n̶e̴v̴e̶r̵ ̶h̶a̴v̶e̷

“That’s actually why I came to see you. I pulled a lot of strings to get here. Come, we should sit somewhere for this.”

“How did you even get let into the Realm?” He found himself asking, forgetting that most people didn’t know of the Realms, having spent so long amongst heroes and legends rather than the ordinary. Techno led Phil into the parlor, tossing a few logs into the fireplace and getting a fire started to help warm his father up, sitting down in an armchair parallel to Phil.

“You forget I defeated Herobrine.” Phil laughed. He began removing his scarf, letting the striped cloth hang off the armrest. “Your brothers...they started an entire nation. L’manburg, they’re calling it. I only know what came down the grapevine, but I know there was a war.”

(“I’ll be heading back to the SMP for some time. I have some business to take care of, so you’ll be on your own for a while.”)

“Thankfully, Wilbur and the others won.” Techno relaxed into his chair.

“You could have led with that, dad. Here I was thinking they were-”

“They were exiled, Techno. I saw Wilbur and Tommy’s wanted posters being put up in the village.” He whispered elbows perched on his knees and hands clasped together, brows knit together, shoulders tense. “They’re- whoever is leading L’manburg now has put out a lot of money for people to hunt them down. Tubbo sent me a letter recently letting me know that he was safe, but the others...I’m worried Wilbur will do something rash.”

“Why couldn’t you help them?” He watched Phil deflate, looking so small in the chair, eyes burning holes into the floors. “I mean, Wilbur adores you.” Phil chuckled but there was no humor behind it. Just regret.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore. We haven’t talked in a year. Tommy wrote letters when the nation was still founding, but Wilbur never said anything. I think he still hates me for what was said that night. You...you and Wil have always been close. Twins, you called each other. If anyone could save him, it’d be you.” Silence fell over the room once Phil was done. The shutters over the windows rattled every so often from the snowstorm outside and the fire crackled, but neither man spoke. Techno moved so he stood by the fireplace, watching the fire crackle and consume the logs, the voice thankfully silent.

“I...alright,” Techno mumbled. “I’ll go. If I need you, I’ll send a friend your way.”

“Thank you, Techno.” A hand settled between his shoulders, Phil standing beside him. “I’ll stay here and watch over things for you.” He stares into the fire, eyes telling of a lifetime of struggle that had never been put into words before and probably never would. The shame ate at Techno.

“...they’re such f*cking idiots…”

“Yeah,” Phil openly laughed and patted Techno’s back a couple of times. Techno smiled a bit. “Yeah, you guys are, but you’re my idiots. We’ll be alright, Techno.”

“I know.”

He knew it wouldn’t be long until Dream was tracking him down.

The green asshole was a lot more involved in his brothers’ stupid nation than Techno initially learned and, once he returned to Dream SMP, he knew Dream would be on the hunt for him. Techno just hoped they wouldn’t be on opposing sides. The land L’manburg had been founded upon was beautiful, Techno would give that point to Wilbur, but once he stepped crossed the threshold, he knew just how much blood went into its foundation, of the lives lost and things sacrificed.

Using the voices as a guide, Techno made his way through the oak forest, his boots leaving footprints in the mud, the only noise coming from the animals that meandered about, a couple sheep passing by Techno along the way. When Techno heard shouts he reached for his sword, his years of combat knowledge kicking in and helping lighten his steps, inching towards the source before jumping, grabbing the nearest person, and holding them up against a tree.

“Tubbo! You f*cking bastard let him go-” the person who had been screaming at Techno abruptly came to a stop. “...Techno..?”

“Tommy?” Techno turned and found himself face to face with his younger brother. The boy was much taller than when he’d last seen him, nearly reaching Techno’s height when he used to just barely reach his elbow, his blonde hair had grown past his ears and fluffier, blue irises bright and wide in shock. “Oh, then this is Tubbo.” Quickly, Techno let go of the boy he had been holding up, dusting off Tubbo’s shoulders. Tubbo didn’t look too different than he did in the photo, but his horns were longer now, curling up and back towards his fluffy ears.

“Um, hello. I’m Tub-”

“TECHNO!!” Tommy’s shrill voice alone nearly knocked Techno off his feet and the sudden weight that had thrown itself upon his body didn’t help either. Stabbing his sword in the ground, Techno turns and wraps his arms around Tommy to steady himself, the teen weakly punching his brother’s chest repeatedly. “You asshole! Where the f*ck have you been, huh?! What was that about letters and visiting? You liar! You bastard! You traitor! You- you- you-”

“I missed you too, Tommy.” He sighed, eyeing Tubbo who stood by the tree he’d previously been pinned again, shuffling his shoes on the grass awkwardly. “Alright, kid, c’mere. I’m only doing this once because I’m in a good mood.” Techno unwraps an arm from around Tommy’s waist indicating for Tubbo to join the hug.

“Oh, no, I’m good-” Tubbo cuts off into a surprised squeak when his collar is grabbed and he is dragged forward into the group hug, being squished against Techno’s chest and Tommy’s side. “Oh, this is nice.”

“Damn right it is. I give the best f*cking hugs.” Techno said proudly, ignoring Tommy’s angry sniffles against his shoulder and fists still pounding on his chest. Tubbo eyes the blond in obvious concern. “He’ll be fine just give it a minute. He’s just throwin' a tantrum.”

“I AM f*ckING NOT!”

That night, after being shown where Pogtopia was and taking stock of what he had to work with, Techno saw Wilbur. Tommy was fast asleep on a blanket and Tubbo had left earlier since he was working as a spy, so it was just Techno left awake, speaking with the voices in his head on his plan of action.

“You’re back.” Wilbur’s voice came drifting down from above, the lanky man slowly descending the stone staircase that led to the outside. He looked the worst for wear, heavy bags hanging under his eyes, skin too pale for it to be considered healthy or normal, a limp in his walk from the war against Dream. Carefully, as to not disturb Tommy, Techno gets up, meeting his brother halfway. As Techno stepped in for a hug, Wilbur turned away. “Did dad tell you?”

“He told me enough. I came here out of my own accord. Wil, you idiot, you should have told me earlier-”

“Yes, well, there's a problem with that considering we hadn’t heard from you in four f*cking years! ” His voice rose until it was nearly a shout, only calming down once he realized Tommy was asleep, running a hand through his hair and breathing heavily. “So, go on. Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Techno stood a step forward. Wilbur was tearing at the seams and it pained him to watch his brother spiral into a pit he was unable to help him out of.

“That this-” Wilbur gestured around himself. “Is useless. That there is no hope. That we should give up and turn tail. Go back home crawling on our knees.”

“I’m here to help you, Wil. I won’t stand for corrupt governments, and Tommy told me what happened on the day of the election.”

“You…” He looked so lost, frantic eyes darting about Techno’s face, searching for any hint of lying, fingers curled into the sleeves of his coat. “You…” And, slowly, a sad smile stretched across Wilbur’s face. “...I missed you, you big oaf.” This time when Techno stepped in for the hug, Wilbur didn’t turn away, melting into his brother’s embrace, clutching onto him tightly. “I’m...I’m losing it down here, Tech. I don’t...f*ck, I don’t know how much longer I can do this on my own.”

“You aren’t alone. You have your brothers. You have me. I’ll stay until this thing is finished and then, once you’ve got your nation back, we could leave if we wanted. I have an empire of my own. No one could bother us there.” Techno offers, squeezing his eyes shut when tears threatened to fall, Wilbur holding onto him tighter.

“We both really are power-hungry bitches, huh?”

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t hold an election. I just had to kill some sh*t and stare until people got scared and ran away.”

“It was a good idea at the time…” Wilbur sighs, his voice small, pressing himself closer like he would when they were kids, hiding in Techno’s arms from the storm that would rage on outside, the thunder having scared him awake. “I’m glad you’re back, Techno. Was kinda startin’ to lose hope there.”

“Well, now you’ve got the Blade on your side. We’ll win this thing, Wil. I promise.”

“Um...Technoblade..?”

Techno was feeding Tommy’s stolen skeleton horse when Tubbo came over, fiddling with his suit cuffs, avoiding making direct eye contact. He sometimes forgot just how young the boy was, having been thrust into the clutches of war so early on in life and still smiling through it all, having done better than Techno did the first time he entered a battlefield. “Do...do we have to kill Schlatt..? I know- I know it’s probably the best solution, but I just…”

“You want peace,” Techno finishes for him. Tubbo nods. He sighs, petting the horse then climbing out of the makeshift stables he’d built. Tubbo jumps when he sets a hand on his head, ruffling his neatly combed brown hair causing it to stick in different directions. “That’s understandable. You’re young. I was like that, too. But with people like Schlatt, they don’t give up. Once they've tasted power it’s the only thing they want.”

“Then...isn’t Wilbur like that too..?” He’s quiet, speaking as if he was thinking out loud rather than asking a direct question, small and innocent and naive to the cruelties of the universe.

“Wil is…” He trails off, having been wondering it himself. His brother might smile and laugh and joke, but Techno saw him at night, staring deep into the embers of the fire until it burnt out completely, the mania that swirled in his bloodshot eyes. “He’s got us, so don’t worry about him. I’ll keep us safe.” Techno ruffles Tubbo’s hair again earning a giggle from the boy. “And don’t call me ‘Technoblade,’ only my enemies call me that. It sounds weird. Just call me Techno or something.”

“Okay, Techno.” Tubbo looks up and smiles. His eyes were bright just like Tommy’s. Techno couldn’t help but smile back. “I should get back to Manburg in case someone notices I’m gone but…” His cheeks flush, directing his gaze elsewhere, nervously tapping his index fingers together. “I was wondering, um, if uh...we could um...talk more sometime..?”

“Sure, kid. You like bees, right?” Techno’s smile grows when Tubbo nods enthusiastically, head shooting up. “Maybe, once things cool off, we can build a bee farm together.”

“Yeah- yeah! I‘d like that!” The teen just looked so happy at the mere suggestion, practically vibrating joy.

And as Tubbo ran off, waving behind his shoulder, his smile growing when Techno waved back, he found himself thinking it wouldn’t be too bad having another brother.

“Te...Techno..?”

4...

“I want you to kill him, Technoblade!” Schlatt screamed. Tubbo was backed up into a box, hands clutching the fence that blocked his only escape, eyes wide in fear, repeatedly glancing past Techno’s shoulder to where he knew Wilbur and Tommy were stationed.

“S-Schlatt? Y-You’ve got this all wrong!” It wasn’t supposed to go this way. It was just going to be a festival. Wilbur was going to blow up a few minor explosives, Techno would kill Schlatt, Tommy would get Tubbo and run, and everything would be over. None of this was supposed to happen.

bloodforthebloodgod

K̴̘͍̝̩̟̊Ḯ̸̻͔̮͉L̸̢͚̋͐̔͊̚L̶̥̰͍̞̊͛ ̶̡̨͠K̴̗̺̠͛Ǐ̶̲̃L̴̡̮̍̀͜͝͝L̷͍̠͔̀̐ ̷͔̒̉͐̋K̴̛̪͙̠̓͊I̴͉̼̩͐͜L̵̢̖̳̪͌̋̄̊͆L̷̥͙͉̞͛͝ ̸̛̛̱͈̾͛͝K̴̝̘̃̅̈̚͘I̶̤̋L̷̺̘̟̫͕͠L̶̹̻̪̥̏̈́̈́̚͠

3...

This was Tommy’s best friend. His own brother. Just a boy who loved bees and wanted peace, who had dreams and aspirations and goals, who reminded him of a young Wilbur, wide-eyed and curious for what the world held for him.

His head hurt. He couldn’t handle peer pressure. He didn’t want to disappoint anymore.

bloodforthebloodgodbloodforthebloodgod

B̸̡̹̮͖̳̎̇̀L̴̢̂O̶̜̜̾͐̚͝O̷͓̽D̶̛͈͇͚̠ͅF̷̭́̀̅O̴̱͍͊̀̈́̌͝R̴͖͓͇̖͂̔ͅŢ̴̤̜̯̲̅H̸̭̣̰̤̼͆̉E̸̫̦͊̅̿̈͝B̸̜͔̰͇̣͘L̷̹͚̘̍̔̀̉Ȯ̴͇͖͗͐͘O̶̻͗̀͘D̵͇̱̏͊͌Ġ̷̨̼̪̖̟Ọ̴̞͙́͂̓D̸̨͇̬̈́̅̊

“Tubbo, I’m sorry,” Techno said. He felt as though his blood were on fire. His limbs were moving on their own, lifting up the crossbow, a firework locked in ready for release. He was disconnected from everything but the ever-present sound of his drumming heart. “I’ll- I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

He felt like crying.

2...

BLOODFORTHEBLOODGOD

B̸̡̹̮͖̳̎̇̀L̴̢̂O̶̜̜̾͐̚͝O̷͓̽D̶̛͈͇͚̠ͅF̷̭́̀̅O̴̱͍͊̀̈́̌͝R̴͖͓͇̖͂̔ͅŢ̴̤̜̯̲̅H̸̭̣̰̤̼͆̉E̸̫̦͊̅̿̈͝B̸̜͔̰͇̣͘L̷̹͚̘̍̔̀̉Ȯ̴͇͖͗͐͘O̶̻͗̀͘D̵͇̱̏͊͌Ġ̷̨̼̪̖̟Ọ̴̞͙́͂̓D̸̨͇̬̈́̅̊

He pulled the trigger.

Tubbo’s screams echoed in his ears.

[Tubbo_ went off with a bang.]

“You bastard! You killed Tubbo! How could you! We f*cking trusted you! He trusted you! And you- you-” And then Tommy was there, screaming at him, punching his chest as hard he could despite the angry tears streaming down his face. Why was Tommy screaming? What did he do?

“I...” Techno blinked sluggishly, peering into the box. There was blood and gunpowder splattered against the walls where Tubbo once had been locked inside. There was screaming from the courtyard and arrows came whizzing past Techno, one landing in Tommy’s arm before the boy tossed another enderpearl and ran for his life.

killthemallkillthembloodforthebloodgodkillkillkill

He focuses on the voices that whisper into his ear, the calm amongst the storm of chaos surrounding him, his grip on the crossbow tightening. He was back in the Nether, staring up at the piglin brute that killed his parents, their blood splattered against him in one last hug, his heart beat thrumming in his ears. He watched the piglin raise his golden sword. One strike. That’s all it would take.

killeveryone

L̸̬͓͇͔̖̑͘͘E̷̠̔̈́͘͝Ţ̵̢̯̒͑ ̷͉̽͝N̵͕̲͖̿̒͛͝͝O̶̢͙̼̹͌͠Ñ̷̯͍̔̃̄̓E̸̩͖̙̐̑ͅ ̷̨͈̠̰͆̉͊E̴̗̜̽̀͊͝S̸̳̩̘̣̈́̓͋͠Ç̴̧͚̟̏͛̾̑̉Ȧ̵̹̯P̷̺͚̞̳̾̀̈́͊̚Ẻ̵̛̛̲̯͆̔

Everything went red.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Tubbo?” Tommy’s soft voice reached Techno’s ears from where he was standing. He was sitting next to Tubbo, looking over the severe explosion scar that ran from his neck up to his chin and across some of his cheek, his own knuckles bandaged with blood seeping through the cloth, his eye bruised.

“I’m fine, Tommy, really. I didn’t even feel it. You didn’t have to fight him, you know. I already told him I forgave him.” Tubbo mumbled, giving Tommy a weak smile, squeezing his brother’s hand. At the mention of the fight, Techno’s ribs ached. Tommy landed a rather good punch on him during their time in the pit. If they hadn’t been on such sour terms he would’ve been proud.

“He’s a f*cking asshole, Tubbo. He said he would help us and he killed you. I’ll never forgive him.” He spat and that was all Techno needed to hear. Using the wall for support, he climbed his way out of the ravine, spotting Wilbur hunched over on top of the bed, hands clasped and eyes staring at the wall in deep thought, not even acknowledging Techno as he passed.

Techno’s hair sticks, soaked, to his skin, rain heavily pouring around him while he kept walking, unphased. It was only when Techno reached the cliff that overlooked Manburg that he stopped.

“Dad,” Techno said, throat thick with emotions and voice coming out broken, half between a sob and a shout, staring towards Phil with watery eyes.

“Techno.” Phil didn’t turn, staring out into the rain. Techno steps up to his father’s side watching the dark clouds roll by overhead. Manburg still stood as if nothing had happened, the citizens fast asleep in their houses, most of the lights off except for the mandatory ones. Phil didn’t put a wing around him, this time. Techno didn’t hug him.

“I’ve...promise me we’ll be alright,” because I don’t know if we will be anymore. Wet streaks are sliding down Phil’s face. Techno didn’t know if they were tears or rain. Everything hurt. There were too many emotions raging through Techno for him to pin down and work through. Wordlessly, Phil turned, starting to walk away. “Wilbur is planning on blowing up Manburg. I...he has the explosives to do it. I don’t know where his stupid f*cking control room- he won’t show me- but he won’t change his mind and- and- dad, please, help him. I can’t…I don’t think I can save him anymore.”

Phil stands there for a few moments longer before Techno hears the telltale sound of his wings flapping. Soon, it was just Techno left alone in the rain, collapsing onto his knees and screaming out into the night.

“WILBUR!!!’

Tommy’s scream of anguish tore Techno away from the person he had been fighting and towards his brother. There was a crowd gathered on the remnants of what had been Manburg, everyone turned towards where the presidential podium had been, watching where-

“Wilbur…?”

(“You killed us...”)

Phil clutched Wilbur’s lifeless body in his arms, a diamond sword stabbed through his abdomen and out the other side, blood coating the blade. Fights around Techno broke out, more TNT went off, crossbows were fired. Techno didn’t move from his spot. He just stared.

("If I become king, will you be there with me?”

“Of course, Wilbur.”)

He hadn’t been there for him.

When Wilbur needed him most, Techno was off at war, satisfying his own carnal needs, slaughtering hundreds for the entertainment of the god that plagued his mind. He is taken out of his stupor when a fist collides with his face sending him stumbling. Tommy stood by his side, his screams falling on deaf ears, bloodied and bruised from the explosion. Tubbo was beside Tommy with tears streaming down his face, fear shining in his eyes, an arrow lodged in his knee. The two boys, once so innocent and pure, now beaten and corrupted, caught in the twisted game the gods had made for them.

Once brothers now enemies standing on opposing sides.

hebetrayedyou

h̵e̸ ̴n̷e̸v̷e̷r̵ ̷l̵o̶v̸e̶d̴ ̵y̸o̸u̴

“Why?! Why are you doing all of this?!” Tommy was screaming, pleading for an answer, for something. “Wilbur is dead because of you!”

theyknewyourmotivesfromthestartandbetrayedyouanyways

i̵t̵ ̸w̷a̸s̷ ̴a̷l̷l̸ ̶a̸ ̵t̵r̵i̷c̷k̷ ̷f̴r̶o̷m̷ ̶t̵h̷e̵ ̵b̵e̷g̸i̶n̷n̸i̸n̷g̷

Maybe, if they didn’t instill a new government, Wilbur would still be alive. Maybe Techno could see him smile again, hear him sing again, hold him in his arms again. Maybe they could have left this all behind, retire into the fortress in the North and create a home again, rekindle the flame of their family.

killthem

s̵h̴o̶w̵ ̵t̴h̴e̴m̸ ̸w̷h̴a̵t̶ ̴h̷a̵p̵p̸e̸n̷s̵ ̷t̸o̷ ̵t̸r̴a̸i̶t̶o̵r̵s̸

Distantly, Techno was aware of Dream’s presence behind him, watching everything that he long since sowed the seed of destruction for. He knew he was playing right into his hands.

He didn’t care anymore. Digging through his inventory, Techno holds up a wither skull, watches as Tubbo shrinks back and Tommy’s breath hitches.

“Tommy...do you think you’re a hero, Tommy?”

Retirement suited Techno.

It reminded him of the early days when he’d help Phil plant potatoes in the garden, being shown how to dig holes into the ground, his hands dirty and stinking by the time they were done. Wilbur would be waiting on the couch when they’d come in, never one for farming, either strumming his guitar or reading a book, shrieking when Techno shoved his dirty hands in his brother’s face just for the hell of it, chasing him around the house while Phil watched on and laugh.

Getting potatoes to grow in the cold was definitely trial and error. Techno hadn’t made a farm for himself in the Antarctic Empire, feeding off the farm animals he’d kill or the bread he traded for, but now that he was on the run it was smart to have a constant supply of food. He knew it was stupid for him to stay when New L’manburg wanted his head on a pike and when his brothers hated him, but he refused to leave his family again even if they didn’t want him. So, he stayed and farmed and read and locked his swords away hoping he’d never have to touch them again.

Phil visited when the man had a chance, having appeared on his cottage doorstep one day with his hat off and a bittersweet smile on his face, keeping Techno updated on the news in New L’manburg and of the butcher army that was being formed. He never stayed long, though, always leaving before nightfall so he could return and watch over Tommy and Tubbo. They didn’t know what would happen if they found out he’d been visiting the person they considered responsible for everything.

Ghostbur visited as well. Oddly enough, the voices liked him. Most times Techno would spot the ghost hovering by his stables, cooing to Carl and feeding him carrots or throwing seeds for the chickens, always changing their names because he could never remember. He’d always invite Ghostbur inside, listening to his stories and talk of their childhood, the familiar strum of guitar filling the house as his soft singing helped lull him into a sense of peace.

At first, Techno avoided him. He couldn’t bear to see his brother after everything that had happened, worried he would do something he’d regret, but then Ghostbur grabbed his hand and smiled and he was a piglet all over again, having followed the boy out of a Nether portal and into the Overworld, his hands being clutched.

(“Techno? What are you doing?”

“Stay.”

“Okay.”)

“Are you sure you’re the older one?” Ghostbur had laughed, so happy and free of all the burdens that plagued him in life. “‘Cause, you’re certainly having one hell of a tantrum.”

Ghostbur never stayed long either. He always left after a day or two, insistent that New L’manburg needed him, and Techno could never bring himself to say otherwise, waving the ghost off as he’d leave, a collection of rocks (“Blue,” Ghostbur called it) in his house, promising to come to visit again sometime soon.

Most days, though, Techno was alone. He sat back in his chair, sighing and staring up to the ceiling, the planks blurring together. He rubbed his eyes until they were separated again.

“f*ck…” He mutters, pinching his nose, the tears building up in his eyes despite his best attempts. “I hate being alone…”

“Tommy really needs you, Techno,” Ghostbur murmured, nervously twiddling his thumbs. Techno just grunted and chopped down another tree, collecting the logs in his arms, only half paying attention to the ghost’s rambles. “Really! He...he won’t talk to me anymore. I’m worried about him. He thinks everyone is against him and...I think…I think he wants to be ghostinnit, if you know what I mean.”

Techno’s blood chilled. No.

“...he’s still living in the same place, right? The idiot hasn’t decided to try and move closer to L'manburg or whatever.” He demanded, quickly gathering his things.

“Oh, yes! I mean, no. I mean, we still live in Logstedshire, yes. Wait, does this mean you’ll visit? Oh, this is great! Lads on tour! It’ll be the three of us together again! Now we just need Phil and Tubbo. Dadza and Tubs.” Techno tuned in about halfway in, heading home and getting changed, grabbing his trident knowing it would be faster than taking Carl.

gogogogo

f̷i̴n̷d̸ ̴h̷i̶m̸

Whenever the voices were happy about something, nothing good came out of it, but he decided he’d worry about it another time. Techno didn’t check and see if Ghostbur was following when he jumped into the ocean, propelling himself through the waters, breaking the surface, and launching onto the shore once he reached his destination. The island hadn’t changed much from his last visit; Tommy’s tent still sat on a hill, Ghostbur’s campsite was still there, the logs with a pumpkin head was still- okay, that was new.

“That’s Tommy’s hotter girlfriend,” Ghostbur supplied when he saw Techno staring for too long. “His hot girlfriend got stolen.”

“...right. Where’s Tommy?” Techno glanced around the field, trying to spot his brother, heart pounding in his chest.

toolatetoolatehesgoneyouretoolatehesdeadanditsallyourfault

h̷e̶'̶s̷ ̵n̵e̷a̵r̵ ̵h̴e̷'̷s̷ ̸h̶e̴r̷e̸ ̸l̶o̴o̵k̷ ̴l̴o̸o̷k̸ ̴l̸o̵o̵k̶

“What the hell are you doing here?” Techno never thought he’d be so relieved to hear Tommy’s voice. The teen stepped down from his Nether portal, and at least he kept the shoes Techno gave him from his previous visit. His shirt had rips and tears in it, dirt turning the white of it a grayish color, the vibrant red having been rubbed out till it was murky. There were heavy bags under his eyes and, despite living in the sun, his skin was rather pale. The worst was his eyes- nearly all the blue was gone. He looked like the piglins Techno had been so desperate to befriend. Lifeless. Empty. Defeated.

“He’s visiting, Tommy! We’re lads on tour, remember?” Ghostbur chimes in, floating over to Tommy’s side, smiling widely. Tommy gave their dead brother a glance then stormed off without a word. “Oh…”

“Tommy.” Techno followed after Tommy, easily catching up with his tired strides. “Tommy- stop-”

“No, you stop!” Tommy spun, glaring up at him. It was clear he wanted to cry, his bottom lip quivering, but he didn’t have any tears left which only helped fuel his anger. “You- you don’t have the f*cking right to come here after everything you’ve done! You- you- you f*cking bastard! I hate you! I hate you so f*cking much and- and-”

“I’m sorry,” the honest confession left him silent, so Techno pushed on. “I’m sorry. I...I thought I was helping you, but I wasn’t. I was doing what helped me. I’m not sorry for trying to destroy the government.” Tommy huffs and turns his head, but he doesn’t storm off again. Techno takes this as a good sign. “But I’m sorry for encouraging Wilbur. I’m sorry for killing Tubbo. I’m sorry for not realizing just how bad things were and for letting it go on. I’m a changed man, Tommy. I’ve- for the love of Notch, I’ve seen a lot. I’ve done a lot of things. I was ashamed of myself for the longest time I couldn’t bring myself to face everything I had done. But if running means losing my family in the process then I’m done running. So...please, Tommy.”

“...I really f*ckin’ hate you, ya know,” Tommy mumbled. He kicked at the grass with his shoe and he avoided eye contact, but the meaning behind his words was still received; I forgive you.

“The feeling’s mutual, idiot,” Techno grunted; I love you. And that was all it took. In two quick strides, Tommy reached Techno, crushing himself against his brother’s chest, arms wrapping around his shoulders as best he could with the height difference. Techno sighs into Tommy’s hair, a hand cupping his head, holding him close, having forgotten what it felt like to hold his youngest brother. The world around them melted away as Techno squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end. “Let’s go home, Theseus.”

“Yeah…okay, big man.”

Neither noticed the ghost of the brother who watched on with a bittersweet smile, a hint of yellow shining in his hollow eyes.