Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry Tubbo. I’ll make it as painless and as colorful as possible.” 

Tubbo didn’t have time to protest, or even process what the man in front of him said before an explosive ripped through his chest, rendering him breathless. At first, he felt no pain; shock, adrenaline, and sheer disbelief of this situation he was placed in numbed him, and he gently touched the bleeding, reddish indent in his smoking clothes. He couldn’t see it clearly - his eyes were blurry, and he was sure that something was wrong with them; they felt watery, as if the eye itself was escaping the socket. The pain came suddenly, and it rippled through his small frame like a lightning cleaves the night sky. He screeched and fell to his knees, pressing his hands against his chest. It burned, it hurt and he was in agony, screaming out the last seconds of his life out with spit and blood that gathered in his mouth. He bit his tongue at one point, and the taste of metal on his lips was disgusting. He heard a crossbow reload, and, hesitantly, looked up, meeting the tip of a firework aimed right at his forehead. 

“One was not enough.” Technoblade, the man behind the weapon said, and without further conversation pulled the trigger, discharging another explosive that shattered his skull, killing him instantly.  

His body slumped against the yellow concrete, lifeless and limp, and Technoblade turned around, continuing his mindless massacre.  

Tubbo was dead. 

That’s how the story ended.  

The air reeked of gunpowder, poppies, and dandelions. 

--- 

-and the universe said you are not alone  

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing -  

--- 

“Phil. What the hell is that?” 
“This? This is a child, I thought you’d know what a child is, Techno.” 
“No, I know what a child is, I’m not stupid - what I’m asking is why is he in your arms?” 

It was a quiet evening in Phil’s home, keyword being  ‘was’ .  Technoblade’s evening reading session, full of myths, fairy tales and history books has been abruptly cut short by Phil opening the door to his cabin with his hip, in his hands a bundle covered by a deep green blanket, shielding the content of it from the snowstorm outside. At first, Techno didn’t pay any closer attention to Phil’s baggage; it could simply be supplies, groceries that he didn’t have any different way to pack up, but then the bundle started to move in his arms, and suddenly Techno was very, very worried about the inside of the blanket, to the point that he jumped off the couch and made his way hastily over to where Phil was taking off his shoes. 

Without warning, he opened up the blanket, startling the man who was holding it. However, the one who was more surprised was Techno, who jumped away at a sight of a brown mop of hair, messed up by the cover. A child, sleeping soundly against Phil’s chest. Techno blinked once, then twice, as if he was hoping that if he blinked enough the kid would disappear like a fata morgana.  

Phil sighed, almost amused at his adoptive son’s distress. He gently set the sleeping boy on the couch before straightening up his back and groaning when some of his bones popped into place.  

“Now, didn’t I teach you that it’s rude to stare?” Phil said, and Techno frowned, annoyed. “This is Tubbo. He’ll be joining our little family, I think,” he added. Techno scoffed.  

“Is picking kids off the streets your hobby now?” He bit, and Phil rolled his eyes. 

“I did not pick you off the street, Techno, and neither I did Tubbo.” the man spoke, adjusting the blanket on top of the sleeping child. “If you recall, you were rescued from a fighting pit, and Tubbo…” he trailed off, unsure how to proceed. “...Tubbo is a bit of a special case. Do you know where I was this time, Techno?” Phil asked, and Techno thought for a moment, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his loose shirt.  

“2B2T. The land of anarchy and chaos,” he answered and the man in front of him nodded his head, a disgruntled expression on his face. “Wait, don’t tell me this kid is from there. You can’t just smuggle a child out of 2B2T, Phil!” Techno exclaimed surprised, but Phil only shrugged. 

“But I did,” he said, his tone of voice just the slightest bit smug. “This one here survived by himself for seven years. He’s smart, cunning, and incredibly dangerous for his age. He was wasting himself in that barren land.”  

Technoblade felt a headache approaching. He himself was only ten years old, and he barely managed to settle into the relatively peaceful life Phil offered him, but now there was going to be another unstable variable in his life, one that he had completely no knowledge about, and it pissed him off. 

Was he jealous? Absolutely not. 
Was he displeased about the fact that he would have to share the house with another child? Yes.  

The intruder stirred on the couch, and all of the eyes in the room turned towards the waking kid, who was, with very sleep-locked eyes, surveying his surroundings. His eyes were big, emerald green, and completely not matching the description Phil gave Techno just a moment ago. He looked like every other loud baby that Techno hated interacting with. He grimaced.  

Then, a scream in his head. Techno moved his body just slightly to the left as a knife buried itself in a wooden beam behind him.  

“What-” he managed to utter out before he had to dodge again, the weapon nicking his ear this time, causing a small trickle of blood to stain his white shirt. Tubbo stood on the couch, his whole body tensed, eyebrow furrowed, in his hand clutching another throwing knife, ready to strike. He was a killer in a child’s body, a hunter staring down his prey, and Techno felt unsettled. He underestimated him. He underestimated 2B2T survivors. 

“Tubbo! Tubbo calm down, you’re here, you’re home!” Phil shouted, putting himself between Techno and the child, who was still in attack position.

“I promised to give you a home, remember? We’re home, my home!” he said, and Tubbo’s eye softened just the tiniest bit. 

“Who’s he?” he asked, and his voice was flat, emotionless. “You didn’t mention anyone else but you.”  
Phil glanced behind himself nervously. 

“That’s- That’s my son, Technoblade,” Phil spoke, mulling over every word before it left his lips. “He’s a survivor, just like you,” he added, and it was Tubbo’s turn to be confused. 

“Of the blood lands?”  

“No. He’s from here, but he’s been through the same amount, if not more wars than you.” Phil explained patiently, making sure he kept Tubbo calm, and at the same time making sure that there would be no knife that would bury itself in his throat. “Put the weapons down. We don’t use those indoors. Not here.” He reached for the knife in Tubbo’s hands slowly, but the kid yanked his hand back, tucking the blade behind his belt, out of Phil’s reach.  

In the background, Techno stared, surprised. He did not expect the intruder to be that ferocious or that dangerous; though he hated to admit it, he was impressed. There was a certain amount of bloodlust that nearly matched his that emitted from Tubbo’s very being, and the voices in Techno’s head were interested as well, calling out for Techno to fight him, to test his strength, some even asking him to kill the child before he becomes an obstacle. Technoblade shook his head, attempting to shove the intrusive thoughts to the back of his head.  

Hesitantly, he stepped forward, taking a spot next to Phil.  

“Hello, Tubbo.” He said firmly, extending his hand. “My name’s Technoblade. If what Phil said is true, we’ll be living together from now on.”  
Tubbo looked at Techno warily, before he slowly reciprocated the handshake. His grip was firm, unlike a grip of a seven-year-old should be. His fingers were already calloused, and Techno could feel scars on the inside of Tubbo’s palm – 2B2T was not a kind land to live in. It was a miracle he was still alive. 

“I’m Tubbo.” the kid spoke, the tone of his voice colder than the winter that raged outside. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Technoblade.” 

“You don’t have to lie. It’s not.” 

Tubbo grinned. 

“You’re correct. It is not.” 

Tubbo’s grip became tighter for a split second, before he let go, his hand now loosely at his side. Phil looked nervously between the boys.  

“Let’s get you to bed Tubbo. We can talk more tomorrow.” he finally said, and Tubbo nodded, jumping off the couch. He was so much shorter than both the head of the house and Techno himself, and he used that to his advantage – he was fast, and he was deadly. As Techno watched his adoptive father and his new sibling disappear into the corridor, he couldn’t help but feel that his relationship with Tubbo would not be an easy one.  

He needed to stock up on weapons.  

Chapter Text

Who the fuck was that. 

Someone was cooking a full-blown breakfast in his kitchen and humming to himself, doing a little dance in-between flipping the toast on the frying pan. Wet hair, fresh out of a shower, Techno stared, dumbfounded, from the doorway that led to the stairwell. He blinked once, then twice, trying to place the features of the boy who was now cracking eggs into the sizzling butter onto a file in his head. Brown hair and emerald eyes, scarred body and lanky body- 

Nah, no way this was Tubbo. Tubbo was a little murderer who just yesterday was millimeters away from slicing open his arteries, and this person was... Something different, definitely. The kid stood on his tiptoes, barely reaching the top shelf, and took out two plates, before pausing and pulling out one more, setting it on top of the other two. Cutlery followed, then mugs, and soon the table was set, ready for breakfast to be served. He put his hands on his hips and huffed in satisfaction, nodding his head. Then, his eyes looked to the doorway, and he froze, startled.  

“Oh. Sorry, did I wake you up?” he said, and Techno felt so, so confused. Even the voice sounded different than yesterday, sweet and innocent, dripping with honey and cinnamon. “I’m making breakfast. I think that’s the least I can do for Phil, you know, since he’s taking me in and all that.” 

“Who are you?” Techno muttered, and Tubbo shook his head, surprised at the sudden question.  

“I’m Tubbo? I introduced myself yesterday?”  

Oh. Call that a change of personality overnight. 

“Sure. Okay.” Techno sighed before approaching the table. “What did you make?” he asked, and Tubbo shot him the widest smile he has ever seen.  

“Toast and eggs! I can’t make much, but I’m willing to learn!”  

He was excited, radiating warmth and youthful joy. The voices in Techno’s head were as stumped as him, a small “huh?” or “what?” breaking through the white noise every now and then. He sat down at his usual spot, and Tubbo sprang to the stove, bringing the pan over and sliding a piece of toast and a steaming egg onto Techno’s plate.  

“Uh, I wanted to make something to drink but I didn’t know where the kettle is...” the boy mumbled under his breath, embarrassed. With a grunt, Technoblade stood back up, and without a word walked by Tubbo, skillfully avoiding the scalding pan the kid was still holding. He opened one of the cupboards, pushing plates and cups aside before he fished a kettle out from the very back of the shelf. Who even decided to put it there in the first place? If Tubbo was to stay with them, Techno reminded himself, he should start putting it on the lower shelf, maybe even leave it on the stove. 

Soon the water was boiling, and with short sentences Technoblade instructed Tubbo on where the tea leaves were, where Phil usually stashed his coffee, and where was the hot cocoa powder, saved for special occasion and guests because neither Phil nor Techno really liked it much. Still, Tubbo’s eyes sparkled as he spotted the can, and instantly Techno ducked under the stove and pulled out a bottle of milk, warming it up in a pot. Before long, three cups were placed on the table; one filled with hibiscus tea, another with black coffee, and one with hot cocoa, decorated with a bit of orange zest. Tubbo was nearly bouncing when he sat down at the table, his short legs swinging back and forth and he pulled his own cup towards himself, careful not to spill any of the precious drink.  

Having cleaned up after his cooking venture, Techno joined Tubbo at the table, cautiously eyeing the food in front of him. He poked it once, then twice with his fork, before cutting the yolk of the egg open, the yellow spilling across his plate. He raised his eyebrows. The kid did a good job at preparing the simple dish, and he scooped some of the egg onto the toast and bit into it. His eyes focused on Tubbo who was already halfway through his cup, a mustache of brown coco surrounding his upper lip; when he realized Techno was staring back at him with the toast in his mouth, he smiled, happy that the boy was actually eating what he prepared. 

Technoblade thought him odd, but cute. 

It wasn’t long before Phil barreled through the entrance, his golden hair messy and knotted from deep, restless sleep, and eyes still sleep-locked and lazy. The moment he spotted steaming food, however, he instantly perked up, and within moments he was tearing into the toast and egg like he was a wild animal. Technoblade stifled his laughter by hiding his face in his cup.  

“This is delicious Techno. Thank you.” Phil finally spoke when he was around three-fourths done with his meal, and Technoblade shook his head, pointing towards Tubbo with his chin.  

“He made it. I just made the drinks.” He muttered, and just for a split second Phil choked, quickly washing down the lump in his throat with coffee.  

“Aren’t you a multi-talented little fella! Thank you Tubbo!” He said, and Tubbo hummed happily, nodding his head.  

They continued eating, small chat that tasted almost as good as the meal itself bouncing between the inhabitants of the small kitchen. The sun outside of the house slowly took its spot in the clear sky, and the room was soon bathed in warm light, small particles of dust dancing in the rays that passed the windows. It was a serene scene, and Tubbo fit right into it as if he was never not a part of the household. He talked about the sights he has seen, best ways to fry fish, and hunting; his vocabulary was limited, sure, but he articulated what he wanted to tell well, and Techno found him an enjoyable conversation partner.  

When Tubbo asked if he could be the one to clean the dishes, no one minded. If he wanted to help, why tell him no? Thus, he stacked the plates, the cups, and the cutlery, and carefully carried them off to the sink, eyed by Techno who was on the lookout for anything falling; he trusted that Tubbo could wash dishes, but he didn’t trust him to wash all of them in one piece. Still, the boy worked fast, his only struggle being opening the detergent bottle. His hands were slippery, and the cap refused to turn; Techno could see that he was growing progressively more irritated, and with a deep sigh, he stood up and reached over Tubbo’s shoulder. 

“Let me-”  

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt cold metal against his throat. His eyes now dark, Tubbo was holding a long, thin knife, still dripping with water, against his skin. Techno felt every drop of his blood leave his face. He got too comfortable. Of course. Like always. 

“Don’t ever approach me from behind,” Tubbo muttered, throwing the knife back in the sink. “I don’t know what I’ll do next time,” he added, and, without any further prompt, Technoblade stormed out of the room, frustrated. 

Of fucking course he couldn’t have a normal housemate, a normal sibling. He was cursed to suffer, to always be at the short end of a stick. He was meant to struggle; he knew that from the moment he opened his eyes to the world ten years ago. Technoblade slammed his fist against the wall, hissing when the stinging tore through all of his nerves.  

With a steel resolve, he waltzed into his room and zeroed in on a wooden box underneath his bed. He popped the lid open, and it opened silently, without as much as a squeak. Gently, he removed the item within; a small silver dagger he won back at the fighting arena. Techno looked at it for a while, wistfully, before he slid it into his boot, hiding it from view. 

If Tubbo wanted to kill him, then he would just have to kill him first when the time came.

Chapter Text

A blade slashed through the air and the tip of the sword buried itself in the soil with a dull thud. With a swift movement Technoblade yanked it out, instantly going into a defensive position, covering his vitals with the weapon. He did that just in time, for a short knife collided with his blade, putting an unusual amount of pressure on it, to the point of Techno’s hand beginning to shake before the assailant retreated, quickly hopping away. 

Technoblade couldn’t even allow himself to blink or take a deeper breath, as the moment he did so, his opponent disappeared from his field of vision, soundlessly appearing in his blind spot. He was like a cornered dog, forced into aggressive defense, and it drew him insane. Still, there was a light at the end of the tunnel – if that person continued to attack his blind spots, that should be the place he should attack. He just had to hold on for a bit longer. He furrowed his eyebrows and calmed his breathing. His opponent disappeared again, and Techno counted in his mind, seconds feeling like hours. 

One. Two. Three. Four-! 

He spun around and thrust his sword forward, grinning when he was met with a yelp, and a sound of a body tumbling to the ground. He looked down at his feet; he was holding Tubbo at the tip of his blade, ready to plunge it into his chest at any moment. Even though he was in the losing position, however, Tubbo glared at him, as if his eyes could kill. Techno tightened his grip on the weapon. He could just- 

“Okay, boys! That’s enough!” Phil shouted from the veranda, where he was standing, his body leaning against one of the beams. “Come here!”  
Reluctantly, Technoblade sheathed his sword and extended his hand to the boy on the ground. Even though they were just fighting, Techno had enough manners to not kick someone while they were down. Surprisingly, Tubbo grabbed his hand, calloused skin meeting calloused skin, and the older boy pulled him up to his feet, scanning him up and down for injuries.  

“You good?” He asked casually, and Tubbo only nodded, a frustrated expression overtaking his features. Techno felt just the tiniest bit smug. Phil waved them over, and the boys made their way back towards the house. 

“I hope both of you learned something from the spar,” Phil spoke, and Techno and Tubbo both nodded, one more amused than the other about the outcome of the match. “Tubbo. You’re fast, you’re deadly, and you have a survivor’s instinct that not many possess. You are, however, way too bold. You get tunnel vision when you think you have the upper hand, and logical thinkers like Techno will be your undoing.” He said, and Tubbo grumbled, but nodded, hopefully taking his lesson to heart. Phil’s eyes switched to Techno. “And you, Technoblade. You need to stop being hesitant. Defense is good, but if you never attack, your strength is going to be chipped away, and you will fall. Think faster. Move faster. Improve. You’re already great, but you can always be better.” 

Technoblade frowned. He wasn’t expecting to be scolded since he was the winner, but there was a seed of truth in Philza’s words, and he felt shame pour down his back. He has to do better.  

“Well, that’s enough for today, I think. Have a sit-down, I’ll make something to eat.” Phil said and disappeared inside of the house, leaving Tubbo and Techno on the veranda, accompanied only by the hooting of the awakening owls and the hum of the wind.  

They were silent for a moment, shuffling in place awkwardly, before, out of nowhere, Tubbo spoke up, his voice not yet completely out of his “attack mode”. 
“Thank you for sparing with me, b-” he sputtered, before he looked away, cutting off the rest of the sentence.  

“B-?” Techno questioned, sitting down on the wooden planks. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and Tubbo groaned, embarrassed. 

“Big... Big...” Tubbo spoke, and Techno became more and more concerned about what was about to leave that kid’s mouth. He could clearly see every muscle in Tubbo’s body tense and untense as he mulled over what he wanted to say in his mouth. 

“Are you okay?” He asked with a half-laugh, and Tubbo looked straight at him, his whole face beet red. Technoblade felt an incredible feeling of dread spread through his entire body. Something was about to happen, something that he probably wouldn’t like. His hand twitched at the side that held the sword. He was ready no matter what. 

Tubbo took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for sparing with me, Big Brother Blade!” 

Ah? Huh? Excuse me? 

Techno’s brain froze. Did he just call him a big brother? Well, he was the older one, and if Phil officially adopted Tubbo, that meant that he was his brother, but it still sounded... Off! Ridiculous even! Techno felt warmth in the tips of his ears. Oh Gods, was he getting flustered over something so dumb? Tubbo looked away again. 

“Did I say it wrong? Sorry, I won’t say it again-” He muttered, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Techno ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. 

“No, no. It’s okay. It was just... Unexpected.” He answered, and Tubbo perked up just the slightest bit. “Didn’t you hate me, though? I thought that you weren’t pleased to meet me, or something.” Techno mused, and Tubbo flinched.  

“Yeah, I did say that. But, um, back then I thought that you were – no offense, Big Brother – I thought you were kinda weak?” His hands were working the material of his shirt so intensely that Techno worried it would tear or catch on fire. “I mean I almost hit you twice...” he drifted off, his voice quieter with every word. 

“And what changed that opinion? I assume that’s the reason for your sudden affection.” 

“You were just so cool today!” Tubbo beamed, suddenly excited again. His emerald eyes were filled with sparks, and he stepped just a bit closer to the seated boy. “I really thought I had you! I was about to hit you in the neck with the knife but you just BAM! Were right where I was supposed to hit! And you weren’t even angry when we were done, you helped me up!” he clapped his hands together as if trying to highlight his commentary.  

“Your standards for liking or disliking someone are very low, you know that?” Techno said, but there was something growing in his chest as he watched Tubbo bounce up and down. “Well, hell with that. Let’s get inside, or you’ll get a cold or something,” he spoke and stood up, stretching his locked joints. Tubbo quickly joined his side, mirroring his movements.  

Phil called out from inside of the house, and a pleasant smell of a stew warmed the air around them. 

It was a pleasant afternoon for Big Brother Blade and Little Brother Tubs, filled with the delicious taste of potato stew, fresh bread, and cooked carrots. 

Chapter Text

“I’ve met this kid at the marketplace today, Blade.” Tubbo mused one summer afternoon. His mouth full of watermelon, Technoblade only hummed in response. Their weapons laid abandoned by the stairs to the veranda, worn after hours of constant use. The fruit was cool, sweet, and filling; just what both of them needed after many, many sparring matches.  

Many months have passed since Phil brought Tubbo home, having literally stolen him from the godless lands of 2B2T, and he was now at a prime age of ten years. He has not grown much in height, and Technoblade did not hesitate to poke fun at that at every given occasion, but he has grown stronger, faster, and more aware of his surroundings, gaining some muscle mass and gray brain matter. Technoblade, on the other hand, sprung up like bamboo, quickly overtaking his adoptive brother in height, and rapidly approaching Phil’s eye level. He has also improved as a fighter, and he could be called the pride of the homestead, and fear of any public matches. 

Things were good in Philza’s house, and his two sons lived in comfort and happiness.  

“Huh. It isn’t like you to just make friends with someone. Anything special about that one?” Technoblade asked, spitting out the seeds. Tubbo thought for a moment, his fingers, sticky with watermelon juice, tapping against his chin.  

“Not really, no. He’s loud, pretty annoying and he tried to pickpocket me the moment I saw him.”  

“I’ll cut off his hands,” Techno muttered, and Tubbo laughed. Technoblade liked Tubbo’s laugh; it made him feel good about himself, to be able to make his brother laugh. “Just say the word.” 

“I can do that myself, but I appreciate the thought.” the boy answered and switched back into his retrospection. “He’s very... Charismatic, I suppose? He has a gift of making people follow him, he has a whole clique of kids on the marketplace that call him a Big Man.” he recalled, and Techno frowned.  

“He sounds stuck up.” He said, and Tubbo nodded.  

“Oh, he’s absolutely stuck-up. He thinks he deserves everything he wants and he will go to any lengths to get it. Aside from working for it, that is.”  

The cicadas were crying so loudly that it was giving the boys a headache. Still, there was nothing much they could do about it; they did live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees, fields of golden wheat, and flowerbeds. It was a pretty, albeit a lonely spot to grow up. That was why, even though the kid did sound like an absolute buffoon, Technoblade was glad that Tubbo was making friends. He needed at least one, Techno couldn’t always be there for him, even if he wanted to.  

“What’s his name? Of the marketplace kid.” Techno asked nonchalantly, and Tubbo smiled happily.  

“Tommy! Tom, actually, but he hates when people call him by that name.” He chirped, wiping his hands on his pants. Phil was going to scold him about that later, but did he care? Absolutely not. “He has an older brother too. Wilbur was his name, I think!”

“I see. That’s good.” 

The cicadas sang their song, and with a grunt, Techno reached for his sword. 

“Ready for round two? You can tell me more about this Tommy kid later.” He said, and Tubbo jumped up to his feet instantly, the knives already between his fingers.  

“You got it!” 

The clanging of metal became an accompaniment for the cicada’s lament as they grew, saplings in the deep forest.  

Chapter Text

The spoon clattered to the table. In the absolute quiet of the room, it was louder than anything Technoblade has heard before. Tubbo, seated on the other side of the table, looked away, his food untouched in front of him. Phil only sighed; his eyes tired.  

“What do you mean by ‘I’m leaving'?” Techno uttered out; his mind completely blank. “You can’t just say that out of nowhere. Did- Did I do something wrong?” He asked, desperation in his eyes. He was fully aware that not all of his thoughts were his, so maybe he said something he shouldn’t, did something that hurt Tubbo, screamed out against his better judgment. Still, the thirteen-year-old boy in front of him waved his hands in front of his face in panic.  

“No! No, absolutely not!” he shouted, and it only stung Techno more. “I just- I think I have taken too much from both you and Phil and never really gave back. I think it’s time for me to go and search for my own fortune.” Tubbo said, every word growing quieter and quieter. “Tommy and Wilbur are leaving for the New Lands and asked me if I wanted to go with them... And I think I do want to go,” he added and Techno felt all that he built over these last several years crumble to dust.  

His fingers tightened around the cup he was holding.  

Well. There was nothing he could really do, huh? At the end of the day, Tubbo was his own person who could make their own choices, and choose their own path in life. He knew Wilbur well, they’ve grown to be reluctant friends after Tubbo introduced them, and he knew Tubbo would be safe with Will no matter what happens on the way or wherever they go, but it still hurt, it hurt to let something you’ve grown to cherish go.  

He bit the inside of his cheek. All uncertainty that used to fester within his heart was now surfacing, summoned by the fear that still lived in the back of his head.  

Yeah. The past him was right. He didn’t deserve happiness. He should be glad for what he got, and let his brother- let Tubbo go. Techno let out a shaky breath. 

“All right. When are you leaving?” He asked, and his voice was flat, but the tone was lost in the excitement that Tubbo’s rambling brought to the room.  

“Next week. Tommy and Wilbur are already packed and wanted to leave, like, tomorrow, but they were waiting for my decision, and if I wanted to go they would delay it all just a bit. I hope you won’t mind that I take some food for the way, Phil, I’ve no clue how long we will be walking, and about clothes-” 

Techno smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.  

At least he was happy. 

--- 

“Do you have everything?” Phil asked, looking over his shoulder inside his house. It was much more solemn than usual, and it felt almost cold as Tubbo stood in front of the veranda, a large bag pack on his back. The boy thought for a moment, before shaking his head no, readjusting the long straps that prevented the bag from succumbing to the power of gravity.  

“I think I’m good.” He said, and Phil shrugged his shoulders.  

“Food?” 

“Packed it.” 

“Clothes?”  

“At the bottom of the bag.” 

“Weapons?” 

“Hidden.” 

“Atta boy.”  

It was snowing. It reminded Technoblade of the night Phil brought Tubbo home for the first time, and an unpleasant feeling scratched at his throat, one that he has not felt for a long, long time. He looked away. He couldn’t look. 

“Well...” Tubbo spoke, shuffling his feet. “I suppose this is goodbye, then? I promise to send letters though. Hopefully, I'll be able to send some as soon as we get there.”  

“I want to see a letter every day, Tubbo.” Phil laughed, and Tubbo laughed back, the bitterness underlining Phil’s words not going unnoticed.  

“I’ll write to you as well, Big Brother.” the boy added, and Techno only grunted. He didn’t know what to say; he was never taught about what to say in situations like this one. He wasn’t taught how to say goodbye, and he wasn’t about to say one. “I hope you write back...?” 

“Okay.” Techno only grunted out, mentally slapping himself for how pathetic he sounded. Still, Tubbo smiled at the vague promise, and with a deep breath pulled the sides of his coat closer to his body.  

“All right! Goodbye, Phil! Goodbye, Blade! Thank you so much for all these years!” he said with a smile, and Techno felt something tear out of his chest, tugging at his lungs and clawing at his throat. He felt metal in his boot.  

Fuck it. 

“Wait.” He called out, and Tubbo, who was already halfway down the road stopped, instantly snapped his head back at the voice of his older brother. The man jumped off the veranda and walked up to where Tubbo stood, ignoring the cold snow that bit at his cheeks and moistened his hair.  

“Yeah? What’s up?” Tubbo cocked his head to the side curiously. Without a word, Techno bent down, and, out of his boot, fished out the dagger he carried around ever since Tubbo entered the household. It was a pretty thing, decorated with silver and gold, small gems embedded in the hilt and sheath, and it was Techno’s treasure for as long as he could remember. His face contorted in an expression he didn’t quite understand as he extended his hand towards Tubbo, holding the dagger safely within his grasp. 

“For protection. I don’t use knives and daggers anyways, and-” He trailed off, the smallest amount of shaking audible as he continued. “-I want you to have something that reminds you of home.” Techno finished, and he missed the way Tubbo’s eyes grew misty when his fingers curled around the ornate weapon.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, fingertips tracing the design on the hilt. Within seconds, however, the dagger was gently placed on the ground, and Tubbo threw his arms around Techno’s waist, burying his face in his chest. For a moment, Technoblade was shell-shocked, his head completely empty, but he reluctantly wrapped his arms around the smaller form, hiding his face in the mop of brown hair.  

“Stay safe out there,” he muttered, and Tubbo hummed in agreement, holding onto his brother so tightly as if he wanted to burn this moment into his memory 

Both of them wanted to, really. 

And just like that, Tubbo was gone, disappeared between the tall trees and the heavy snow, and Techno stood in place, in the middle of the road for a long time, until Tubbo’s footsteps were completely covered by fresh snow, erasing any proof that he ever stood in that clearing, on that stone-paved road.  

The warmth Technoblade felt with his chest was his only sanctuary as he headed back home, where Phil was discreetly wiping his eyes by the doorway.  

Chapter Text

Dear Big Brother Blade; 

I hope you are well! We’ve just arrived at the New Lands (actually called The Dream SMP, by the guy who runs it), and I instantly sat down to write you a letter, like I promised! I’ll write one to Phil as well, but I have so many things to tell you that this letter had to take priority. 

First of all, Tommy says hello! We’ve had a long, long time to talk, and I told him all about you (I’m sorry if any embarrassing secrets spilled out, you know I can’t control what I say sometimes) and he thinks that you’re very cool. Wilbur also asked me to pass on greetings, and he’s thinking of writing to you as well. We all miss you, but me probably the most. 

In better news, we’re going to be living in a van for now, until we get a house or something; it’s big enough though, so you don’t have to worry. I fit pretty much anywhere, so even if I have to sleep on the floor, I’ll be okay. I miss my bed back home a bit. I wonder what dad and you did with my room? If I was you, I'd turn it into a guest bedroom or just turn it into a closet? What was I talking about? Oh, right, the van. The roof is constantly on fire for some reason, but at least the inside is warm and toasty.  

I’m excited to meet everyone here because aside from Dream and us three there are many, many more people who live here. They fight sometimes but that’s okay, that’s what friends do.  

I’m very tired. My back hurts from carrying the backpack for so long. I promise I’ll write more in the next letter. 

Love, 

Tubs. 

------------

Tubbo, 

Please rest first next time before you pick up a pen to write a letter. One day you’ll pass out, and there will be no one to gather you from the floor and tuck you into bed.  

I’m very happy that you wrote to me. The letter arrived in the middle of mine and Phil’s sparring session and I wish you could see the look on his face when he got his own. He was so worried about you; constantly thinking if you’re eating well, if you’re safe, if you’re warm – you know the drill. I can’t say I haven’t been wondering the same. Even before you left, I’ve been researching the New Lands and I was worried since you have to cross the mountains to get there; I’m glad that my worries didn’t come true.  

Are you saying that the man who is in charge of the New Lands – forgive me, Dream SMP named it after himself? I bet he’s going to get along with Tommy swimmingly, they both sound incredibly stuck up. Then again, who am I to judge him, I’ve never met the man.  

I hope living in a van isn’t too uncomfortable for the three of you. Do not sleep on the floor, you’re still growing and your bones will curse you in the future. The fire on the roof also worries me? Is it not going to destroy the vehicle? Please think of extinguishing it, I don’t want the three of you to lose the only home you have for now.  

Your room is untouched, in the same state since the day you left. Dad couldn’t bring himself to empty it out so it’s just locked. He still cleans the dust and changes the sheets on your bed, so if you ever want to visit, you’ll have a place to stay. We miss you very much as well. The house is very quiet without your constant talking and yelling. We’re happy that you’re finding your own happiness, but do think about your home from time to time (Phil told me to write that. I don’t know how to form sentences sometimes).  

Make sure to rest properly. I’m not going anywhere, so take your time if you ever want to write again. Pass on my greetings to Tommy and Wilbur as well. 

Love, 

Your Big Brother Blade. 

Chapter Text

Big Brother Blade, 

I hope you’re doing well! Tommy just had his birthday the other way, so we’re still in a bit of a festive mood. Eret and Niki baked a cake, and we all spent the evening telling stories and drinking tea and coffee. It wasn’t a big party, but Tommy was so, so happy that we remembered his birthday (how could we forget? Wilbur was reminding us about it for a month!) that I think he cried at one point. I couldn’t give him a big gift so I gave him one of my bandanas. He hasn’t taken it off since, I think he’s attached!  

I wish I could say that all the news I have are happy and all, but I’ve been worried recently, and I want to get your opinion on something. You see, Will wants to start a country on the Dream SMP. He says that we’re being oppressed by the people who live there, and that we are constantly disrespected and that he has had enough, but I don’t really understand why do we need to separate ourselves from others. I brought up that we should just have a fight and who wins gets to keep their opinion, but they just called me “wild” and “chaotic” and “uncultured”, and I have to say that it made me feel pretty bad. 

I really want to help Wilbur to create that country, L’Manburg I think he wants to name it, because I owe him a lot and I know that would make him happy, but on the other hand I did grow up in a land of anarchy, and I can’t see a government like that having a future in the long run. 

What do I do? I’m very conflicted. I know Tommy will follow Wilbur without question, and so will Eret and Niki, as well as Fundy, Will’s son (did you know he got married? His kid grew up so fast, he’s acting older than me now, it’s scary!), so I don’t want to be left behind.  

I miss our sparring sessions. We used to talk about things like this, and we would always arrive at a conclusion before we finished. I wish we could just do that right now. 

Should I come for a visit soon? 

Love,  

Tubs. 

PS: I’m sending over a prototype of the flag of L’Manburg. Niki made it, and I think it’s really pretty! I want a second opinion though :)

---

Tubbo, 

Your letter worries me. 

First of all, you shouldn’t do anything because you “owe it to someone”. In the end, if it’s not your own decision, you’ll just end up regretting it later. Wilbur is a smart man, and I am sure that he means well, but hearing that they dismissed your opinion (even though it wasn’t the best one, I have to admit) and then called you in such a way fills me with anger. I am on your side, of course, nothing good can come out of a government – one way or another it will fall to corruption and betrayal and had it been anyone else in charge I’d tell you to go back home immediately.  

It is Wilbur, however, and I trust him.  

Tubbo, I need you to talk to them. You need to vocalize your worries or they will never know what is on your mind. I’m not the best at talking, but you were always so good at it, sometimes even talking too much. I’m sure you can do it. I believe in you. 

I can’t tell you what you should and should not do. In the end, you’re... 

I was about to write that you’re an adult but you are very much not. But one thing I am sure about is that you’re a mature person. Any decision you make, I will support. 

Please stay safe. Me and Father are constantly thinking of you.  

Love, 

Blade. 

PS: We received the flag. It’s very pretty, but dad wants to turn it into something else because... You know. It’s a flag. You can tell Niki that she did an amazing job. Also, we will be leaving home for a while, we’re going up north to scout the land, so I’m sorry if my replies slow down. Take care of yourself.  

Chapter Text

Blade,   

I think we fucked up big time. I decided to follow Wilbur in this entire Independence thing, and...   

I don’t even know how to describe this. Blade I died. I died, and I was dead and then I was not and I am so confused about what’s happening. Does death not exist in the Dream SMP? I felt pain and I was dead and then I was not but at the same time was I really dead if I just woke up? Blade I’m scared, honestly. We got ambushed, Eret betrayed us, and all of us, Wilbur, Tommy, Fundy, Niki, we all died, we were all killed by Dream and his friends and then we just woke up?   

I don’t understand. My head hurts so much.  

I have a scar where the axe hit me but I am alive and my heart is beating. You know I'm not good at solving mysteries like this one. Please tell me what’s happening, because no one else can explain it to me.  

Tommy wants to duel Dream for independence. What if he dies again?   

Can he even die? I don’t understand. I know I’m repeating myself, Blade, but I am honestly so confused.  

I’m scared, I think.  

Please write back soon. I miss home. I miss Dad and you so much. I just want to get into my bed and sleep until I forget about all of this.  

I love you so much,   

Tubbo.  

--  

Dear Brother,   

Tommy died.  

But he’s back.  

Wilbur put out a theory that we have a limited number of “revivals”, lives if you will. That would mean that I’m one down, and Tommy’s down two. How many chances do we have? Fundy and Will promised to research this before it gets too late, but we’re all on the edge.   

Tommy isn’t doing well. He lost his discs, something he treasured more than some people, because he lost the duel, and the fact that he died twice now, I think it just overwhelmed him. He's snappy and aggressive, but I understand, he’s the closest to true death out of all of us. I would be freaking out if I was him too. Wilbur is worried about him as well, but he’s the president now, and he’s negotiating the Independence. I’m the one who’s left to take care of Tom.  

You told me once that  Technoblade  never dies. Can you please tell me that I’ll  be okay? I need that very much right now. The uniform is way too big on me, and I'm starting to regret ever joining this joke of a war, but I have no way out now. I’m in too deep.  

I just hope L’Manburg can get independence so all of this can be over.   

I miss you so much. I hope you’re doing well up north.  

Love,  

Tubbo. 

---  

Big Brother,  

We got independence! We signed an agreement with Dream, and the war is finally over! I hate to admit it but I nearly cried when I realized that it’s all over, but I didn’t show it because I had to be strong as the third person in charge of a country. We had a big celebration the other night, and I finally saw Tommy smile again. I think he’s getting better these days, forgetting slowly about death.  

Speaking about that, Wilbur apparently discovered that we have three lives. That means I have two chances and Tommy has one – we have to teach him to be more careful from now on, I really don’t want to lose another friend (it’s not like any of them died for good, but after Eret left  L’Manburg  things are very tense between all of us here). I promise that I will be very careful, so you don’t have to worry.  

Wilbur is also planning an election, to avoid corruption and such. I want to believe that that will help us avoid the disaster we thought having a government will have, but I’m still on edge. Tommy will be running with Will; I didn’t want to get mixed up with that whole election business. I will be building the podium for the debate though! You always said I was good at building, so I promise to make you proud.   

I’m planning to drop by after the election. Hopefully, by then, you and dad will be back home so we can catch up! Should I bring Tommy with me? Wilbur probably won’t be able to come since he’ll be the president and all.  

Anyways, I miss you!   

Love, always,  

Tubbs. 

PS: There are stories of an “Antarctic Empire” reaching the Dream SMP! Is that the country you started? If that’s so, it’s amazing! You have to tell me all about planes and guns when we meet.  

---  

Blade,  

We need help. We need help.  

We lost the election, Wilbur died, he and Tommy got exiled and I’m basically a hostage/spy stuck in L’Manburg- no, it’s Manburg now. I don’t have much time to write, I am so sorry. I just need some advice. I don’t know what to do again. I’m taking down the walls of the country I built. Everything is against me. I don’t know what to do.  

Help me.  

Tubbo. 

Chapter Text

Tubbs, 

I am on my way. Hang in there. 

Yours,

Big Brother Blade.

Chapter Text

Neighing of a horse. Footsteps. The trees were whispering his name and the ground underneath his boots trembled as he walked. The Dream SMP looked just like the great wilderness so far, and, though he hated to admit it, Technoblade had no idea where to go. All he knew was that L’Manburg was somewhere within the SMP and that there were houses scattered all over. Even for The Human GPS, this wasn’t enough information to work with, and he looked around in distress for any sign of human life. The sword at his side bounced against his leg as he turned, and he swore it called out to him to arm himself, to be ready for any attack. 

“Technoblade!” Someone called out, and he reflexively drew his weapon, pointing it in the direction of the shout. Fortunately, it was a head full of golden hair that emerged from between trees, pulling a horse behind him. “It’s Tommy! Put your sword down please, I mean no harm.”  

“I know.” Techno huffed out. “I’m just tense. Sorry.” 

Tommy shook his head and passed him the lead. He was glancing around as well, and Techno could easily see the bandages that peeked from underneath of his tattered uniform. Was that where he got shot? Technoblade felt just the smallest sting of pity in the pit of his stomach. The kid in front of him was one step away from death if Tubbo’s letters spoke the truth; and why wouldn’t they? Tubbo never lied to him. 

“Let’s get you to Will before we get ambushed. The tension is still terrible here, Schlatt hired assassins, and there are people patrolling the forests-” Tommy babbled while climbing on the horse as well, taking a spot behind Techno. “Hold tight, we’re going.” 

And just like that they were off, leaving the spawn behind. Tommy was surprisingly skilled at horseback riding, even with Techno in front of him being able to swiftly navigate the thick forest. Technoblade himself just looked around, attempting to memorize the path they took in case he had to retreat. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at their destination, however, as he quickly spotted Wilbur, propped up against one of the trees, his uniform drenched in blood – Techno could guess where the killing hit was planted. His eyes were half-opened, and he looked absolutely exhausted, but at the sight of the approaching horse he perked up, a small smile appearing on his face. 

“Techno.” he breathed out, nodding his head. “I would have tipped my hat, but I’m afraid I lost it whilst running.” he joked, and Technoblade sighed, jumping off the horse.  

“Hi Wilbur. You look like shit.” the man spoke plainly, and that seemingly struck a chord with the injured man as he chuckled, his eyes lighting up. 

“Tell me something I don’t know, Technoblade.”  

Will struggled to get up, and instantly Tommy was at his side, offering him his shoulder to lean on, which Wilbur graciously accepted.  

“Let’s get some shelter. We can talk more once we’re sure we’re safe.” Wilbur said, and Techno nodded, still looking around. 

“Where’s Tubbo?” he asked, and Wilbur froze, causing Tommy to stumble. “Will?” 

“He’s still in L’Manburg. I asked him to spy for me. Schlatt likes him.” Wilbur muttered, and Techno felt his blood boil. 

“What? You mean you left him in the middle of a literal conflict with no support, no allies, no anything? Are you stupid?” He exclaimed, and Wilbur rolled his eyes. Techno’s hand twitched at his side. Oh, how he wanted to grab Will by the neck and just squeeze- 

“We’re not leaving him there. He’ll be going back and forth between this base and L’Manburg until we can take it back. We’re not abandoning him. He agreed to spy for us.”  

“He doesn’t know how to say no, Wilbur!” 

“Well, then perhaps you should have taught him how to!” Will shouted back, and Technoblade drew his sword, anger and adrenaline blinding him for a moment. Before he could plunge his sword into Will’s neck, however, Tommy ran between him and his brother, arms outstretched. 

“Calm down! Please, if you just kill one another nothing will be fixed! The country will be gone and Tubbo will be lost!” he shouted, and both of the men blinked in surprise at the youngest on the server actually making sense. “We can argue later. Get inside. I think Ponk was following us.” he whispered, and took the lead, descending the narrow steps into the ravine.  

Without further argument, maybe because they were still in shock from being yelled at, or maybe because they realized the weight of the situation, Technoblade and Wilbur followed Tommy, soon disappearing into the darkness that the rocks provided.  

The ravine itself was a pathetic sight. There was little to no space down there, and they had to squeeze through certain spots, but at the very end there was a small cavern, lit up by torches and lanterns. Wilbur collapsed onto the nearest flat rock, clutching at his chest, but he looked Techno right in the eyes. 

“Our previous argument aside-” he spoke, his speech slurred from the way his head spun. “-we need your help Techno. We need to take L’Manburg back. It’s all that we have, and it’s all that we ever need.” Will explained, and Techno leaned against one of the pillars.  

“Okay. Yeah, if I wasn’t going to help, I would not have come here,” he spoke and he swore Wilbur grinned; then again it could have been a trick of the dim light that enveloped the room. “I assume we’ll be staging a coup or something along these lines?”  

“Yeah. We need to kill Schlatt, dismantle his cabinet, and take back the government.”  

“Do you need government?” Techno asked warily, and Will looked up at him, confused. 

“What do you mean? There can’t be a country without a proper government. There has to be someone in charge so others don’t step out of line.” he said, and Technoblade shook his head.  

“No, I mean- What about anarchy? You can be an organized colony. Why jump to a country?” Techno asked again, and Will looked almost bored at the question.  

“An idea of a country gives people power. Unity, liberty – we're organized under a common banner and we are happy the way we are. Aren’t you the same, oh, great ruler of Antarctic Empire?” he mocked, and Techno’s eyebrow twitched.  

The room was quiet once again, the only sound breaking the pregnant silence being the dripping of water from the ceiling that hit against the rocks, slowly but surely creating indents by sheer force of will alone, and Wilbur’s raspy breathing. 

“Fine. I just hope you don’t come to regret this later.” Techno muttered, and the tension in the room fell down significantly, a deep sigh coming from the corner Tommy was huddled in. Realizing that the conversation was over, Technoblade stormed out, looking for his own little place in the ravine. He had to make a food source, as well as prep space for training – Wilbur and Tommy were doomed as they were now; he had to take matters into his own hands. 

One thing came first before anything else could ever be started.  

Techno reached into his bag and pulled out an empty sheet of paper. He had to see if Tubbo was all right. 

Chapter Text

Tubbo,  

I arrived in the Dream SMP. I met Wilbur and Tommy, and although I do not like Wilbur’s plans for the future, I will be cooperating with them until  L’Manburg  can be returned to their hands. I hope you are safe. I’ve heard that you stayed behind in  Manburg  to spy, or something along these lines. If you need me to get in there and get you out just say the word, I’ll be at their doorstep before they even know it.   

I just want to know if you’re safe.   

Hoping to meet you soon.  

Yours,  

Techno. 

-  

Blade!!!  

I’m so glad you’re here!   

It’s true, I’m currently in  Manburg , and I will be here for the time being. Don’t worry, I took the role of a spy willingly, and I take it very seriously. Please take care of Wilbur and Tommy for me, as Will was literally dead last  time  I saw him, and Tommy was very distressed by his death.   

I promise you I’m safe and that you don’t have to worry much.  Schlatt  wants to meet you though, the information that you arrived leaked somehow; make sure there are no spies in your ranks.   

I don’t know when I’ll be able to meet you face to face, but I  can't  wait to see you again. I have so many things to tell you I don’t even know where to start (so I won’t!)  

Stay safe, Big Brother,   

Tubbs. 

Chapter Text

You Are Cordially Invited 

To The Manberg Festival of Democracy 

Our Great president  Schlatt  has allowed us the  honor  of hosting a wonderful event to celebrate the removal of Tommy and Wilbur from our great nation.  

You have been invited due to your continued support of our nation and your wonderful personality   

16th of October 2020 

At 1 PM EST 

We hope you can make it  

-Tubbo 

Chapter Text

The square was so unbelievably loud.  

The crossbow on his back, hidden underneath his warm cape felt so familiar to a gun, one that he used to handle during the days of the Antarctic Empire, but on that very day, he felt conflicted about the amount of ammo he had hidden in his bag, and about the amount of TNT that was laying dormant underneath his feet, strung across the entirety of Manburg. Everyone surrounding him was blissfully unaware of the fact that within minutes they would be running through ruins, but it was better to have no country at all than have a country that is corrupt.  

The fireworks were heavy in his bag, hitting each other with every move he made, and even as he shook hands with Schlatt himself, welcomed as a special guest at the gate, he felt wrong entering fully armed. The president wasn’t stupid either. He knew Techno came prepared, and he would most likely use it to his advantage. The man felt cold sweat gather at the back of his neck as he sat in his chair, awaiting the presidential address.  

The one who took the stand, however, was not the president, but someone who was much more familiar to Technoblade, with the same messy brown hair and green eyes.  

The boy who adjusted the microphone so it would suit his height was Tubbo, his brother. 

He grew up since Techno has last seen him, he noticed. He was taller, and he emanated an aura of someone who has looked death in the eye and walked away victorious. In a suit, neatly groomed and presentable; pride filled Techno’s chest at the sight of him. Their eyes met for a moment, and Tubbo’s entire being lit up as he held himself back from just running down the stairs and throwing himself into his brother’s arms. All he did was nod, and Techno nodded back, a rare, gentle smile on his face.  

Tubbo licked his lips and began his speech.

He spoke very eloquently, and his speech was filled with passion and commitment to the cause, but it was very obvious that he was glancing at the rooftop of a nearby building where Wilbur and Tommy were hiding. He was not subtle at all, and Techno sighed. Hopefully that wouldn’t bring any trouble. By that point Will should have been on standby near the button; what was he still doing up there? An unpleasant feeling began forming in the back of Techno’s head, and he had a terrible, slimy premonition of something going terribly, terribly wrong.  

“Is that all, Tubbo?” Schlatt spoke up from the side of the stand, and Tubbo flinched, surprised.  

“Yes! Yes! Let the festivities begin!” he spread his arms wide, and the audience applauded him. The cheers died down very quietly, however, as Quackity and Schlatt looked at each other with silent understanding and swiftly trapped the boy between two walls of yellow concrete. Techno sprung up from his seat, alarmed. Something very bad was about to happen. He released the buckle that held the crossbow on his back and loaded it, ready to go at any moment, ignoring the panicked looks from onlookers who sat next to him.  

“Schlatt what are you doing?” Tubbo’s voice darkened as his hands curled around the bars that were placed in front of him. “Schlatt? Schlatt!?” 

“Tubbo. Tubbo I’ll cut to the fucking chase.” the president clicked his tongue, and he kicked the bars, a low ringing sound echoing across the deadly silent square.

“It really sucks to say this in front of everyone. I mean, it’s kind of awkward.  

“Schlatt I can’t get out-” Tubbo tried to protest, but one cold glare from the man in front of him shut him up completely.  

“Tubbo I know what you’ve been up to,” he spoke, and both Tubbo’s and Techno’s blood ran cold. They’ve been found out. The operation was compromised.

“You’ve been conspiring with these idiots! With the tyrants! With your brother – and don’t think I didn’t know about your little familial bond Tubbo, I know all.” Schlatt screamed towards the audience who just watched, and his eyes zeroed at Techno who was still clutching the crossbow in his hands. Schlatt smirked.

“Tubbo I don’t know if you’re aware, but treason isn’t exactly a respectable thing around here. Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” he asked, and Tubbo only shook his head, his wild eyes scanning his concrete prison for any form of escape. “Nothing good.” 

Someone fainted in the back, but Techno didn’t pay it any attention as Schlatt slowly raised his hand, his finger extended in his direction.  

“Hey, Technoblade. Do you want to come up here for a second?” 

Techno’s hand twitched on the trigger. Then, he started walking.  

The stairway was agonizingly long, and it felt like years before he reached the top of it, decorated with banners and flowers, most now stained with yellow concrete powder. The president and his right-hand man stared him down, both smiling kindly in his direction. Schlatt took a step back, clearing the way to Tubbo’s cage.  

“Hello there, Mr. President,” Techno spoke, and his every word dripped with venom. Quackity pushed him towards a hastily built platform that postitioned him right in front of Tubbo. Their eyes met for a second, recognition and relief flashing through Tubbo’s eyes as he spotted his older brother. “Mind explaining to me what’s going on here?” 

“Technoblade. As a respected ally of Manburg, as well as the special guest of the festival, I have a little favor to ask of you.” the president gestured towards the cage. “Execute the traitor, won’t you? Right here. On this stage. To prove that you’re not allied with the tyrants who once ruled this great country.” 

Every sound around Techno stopped at the same time. Hundreds of eyes looked at him, watching his every move, and he hated it, he hated the attention that was now on him. He had to make a choice. Turn against Schlatt, and ruin everything that Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo worked for, effectively taking away the chance of L’Manburg ever returning to its former glory, or cooperate, giving Wilbur more time to find the button and finish the operation, in turn losing his brother.  

“Blade?” Tubbo whispered, watching with wide eyes as Techno, with a bitter expression, loaded the crossbow with three fireworks. “Blade, what are you-” 

“Tubbo,” he spoke, and you could see absolute despair in his eyes as he raised the crossbow and he pointed it right at Tubbo’s forehead. “I’m sorry.”  

“Big brother? What are you doing? Please-” Tubbo croaked out, backing up as far as he could in the cage. Something glinted at his side – it was the dagger, a present that Techno gifted to him a long time ago, well taken care of and placed in a decorative leather holder.  

He remembered Tubbo’s warm hug as he was leaving home.  

“Technoblade kill him! Right fucking now!” Schlatt yelled, and something in Techno’s brain broke, letting loose the bloodlust he’s been suppressing for months.  

“No,” he growled out, and with a split-second movement discharged three fireworks right into Schlatt’s chest. The man fell over with a gasp, grabbing at his bleeding skin, and he screamed for help, but no one came, Quackity already halfway down the stairs. That didn’t stop Techno from executing him, however, as, with a trained eye, he sniped him from a distance, and his corpse tumbled down the stairway, stopping only at the landing.  Done with that, Technoblade turned around, discharging a round of fireworks into the public, creating a cloud of dust and smoke that covered the entirety of the square, screams of the audience muffled by the sounds of explosions.  

“Techno?”  

Technoblade turned around. 

“Tubbo, get as far back as you can. Cover your face.” 

The boy obeyed, understanding the severity of the situation. With the eye of a marksman, Techno shot first at the top, then at the bottom part of the bars, and with an ear-splitting creak, the bars fell out, leaving a sizeable hole for Tubbo to crawl out of. Techno reached in, extending his hand towards his brother, who was still huddled at the very back.  

“Come on Tubbs. Let’s go home,” he said, his voice softer than usual. Without any hesitation, Tubbo grabbed his hand, and let himself be led out of the small prison and into the chaos. Their hands never let go of one another as Technoblade navigated the chaos, slaloming between stalls and people panicking in the thick clouds of smoke. Over the thunders of explosions, almost missing it, Techno heard the words that he didn’t know he needed to hear; 

“I missed you so much, Techno.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

If there was a feeling of déjà vu in the back of his head, he swatted it away. He tightened his grip on Tubbo’s hand, and they disappeared into the night, two brothers reunited by fate. He would not let it go again, not if he could help it. 

----

-and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said I love you because you are love.