Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CONFIDENTAL

CROWFATHER

Occupation: Assassin Retired

Legal Name: Philza [redacted]

Age: [redacted]

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Avian

Hybrid Traits: Large black wings

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Build: Average

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: The Blade; The Ghost; Theseus; B-Boy; The Warden; Officer Nihachu

Known Skills: Flight; MMA; Knowledge of most weapons

Known Weaknesses: Injured left wing with mechanical brace

THE BLADE

Occupation: Assassin

Legal Name: Techno [redacted]

Age: [redacted]

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Piglin

Hybrid Traits: Tusks; Pointed ears

Hair Color: Pink

Eye Color: Red

Build: Athletic

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: Crowfather; The Ghost; Theseus; B-Boy

Known Skills: Long-range weapons; Blades; Hand-to-hand combat; Knowledge of poisons

Known Weaknesses: Acrophobia; Predictable behaviors

THE GHOST

Occupation: Assassin 

Legal Name: Wilbur [redacted]

Age: 24

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Phantom

Hybrid Traits: Pale skin; Slightly glowing eyes

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Build: Tall/Lanky

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: Crowfather; The Blade; Theseus; B-Boy; Officer Nihachu

Known Skills: Stealth; Phasing

Known Weaknesses: Lowered strength and stamina 

THESEUS

Occupation: Underground Medic

Legal Name: Tommy [redacted]

Age: 16

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Moobloom

Hybrid Traits: Grows flowers in hair; Cow ears

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Build: Tall/Lanky

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: Crowfather; The Blade; The Ghost; B-Boy; Officer Nihachu

Known Skills: Knowledge of anatomy; Knowledge of poisons; Medical training; Basic MMA

Known Weaknesses: Impulsiveness; Easily injured

B-BOY

Occupation: Weapons Technician 

Legal Name: Tubbo [redacted]

Age: 16

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Goat

Hybrid Traits: Small horns; Goat ears

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Build: Short/Muscular 

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: Crowfather; The Blade; The Ghost; Theseus; The Warden

Known Skills: Knowledge of explosives; Knowledge of tech; Research

Known Weaknesses: [redacted]

OFFICER NIHACHU

Occupation: Law enforcement 

Legal Name: Niki Nihachu

Age: 24

Date of Birth: [redacted]

Hybrid type: Axolotl 

Hybrid Traits: Fins

Hair Color: Pink

Eye Color: Blue

Build: Slender

Place of Residence: [redacted]

Known Associates: [redacted]

Known Skills: [redacted]

Known Weaknesses: [redacted]

ENDERWALK

Occupation: Assassin 

Legal Name: [unknown]

Age: [unknown]

Date of Birth: [unknown]

Hybrid type: Enderman

Hybrid Traits: Inhuman height; Grayish skin

Hair Color: Half black/half white

Eye Color: Heterochromatic; Red/green

Build: Tall/Lanky

Place of Residence: [unknown]

Known Associates: Nightmare

Known Skills: Knowledge of poisons

Known Weaknesses: N/A

NIGHTMARE

Occupation: Assassin

Legal Name: [unknown]

Age: [unknown]

Date of Birth: [unknown]

Hybrid type: [unknown]

Hybrid Traits: [unknown]

Hair Color: [unknown]

Eye Color: [unknown]

Build: [unknown]

Place of Residence: [unknown]

Known Associates: Enderwalk

Known Skills: N/A

Known Weaknesses: N/A

Chapter Text

A knock sounded on Techno’s door.

“Crowfather wants to see you.”

Techno snapped his book closed and stood, heading to Phil’s office. He took a deep breath and held the railing a little too tightly as he made his way up the winding staircase. Why the man had decided to make his office on the fourth floor, he had no idea. 

~~~

“Got a job for you, Blade. Need to keep a low profile, though. Don’t want to draw attention with this one.”

“It’s a stealth mission? Why aren’t you using The Ghost then?”

“You’re better with long-range,” Phil said plainly. “It’s simple really. One high profile target. Good intel. Hefty amount of coin.”

“Okay, so what’s the catch?”

“I can’t say I know what you mean, Techno.”

Techno only glared, waiting on an answer.

Phil sighed. 

“The target will only be accessible for a short window of time, maybe a minute, and there will be a large security presence in the surrounding area. The only reliable vantage point is on the roof of a nearby office building.”

“And there it is.” 

Techno grabbed the file, holding it up as he walked out the door.

~~~

Fuck. Techno let out a shuddering breath as the door to the roof of the building clicked shut behind him. He did not want to be here. He had about fifteen minutes to get ready before the window of availability for the target. He grit his teeth and started to climb up onto the higher level of the roof because of course it would be raised higher on the side where he needed the vantage point on his target. His comm buzzed to life as he pulled himself over the edge.

“Hey Blade, just checking in. How’s the view?”

“Fuck off, Ghost.”

Wilbur’s laughter filled his ears.

“Fuck. Off. Seriously,” Techno bit out.

“Alright, I’m going. Wait, new intel.” Wilbur paused while he listened to whoever was talking to him, probably Tubbo. “Target’s ETA has moved up, got lucky with traffic I guess. Should be in view in T-minus 5 minutes. Good luck, Blade.”

The call disconnected. 

5 minutes. He needed to get moving then. Techno slowly pushed himself up so he was standing. He inched closer to the edge to determine the angle that would give him the best vantage point. The target would be entering that building and would be walking from the car that would most likely be parked….there. So he needed to be right….he moved slightly to the left….here. His gaze slipped to look straight down. That was a long way down. That was a really, really long way down. The ground below him swayed slightly. Techno shoved himself backwards. Fuck. That was a bad idea. Prime, he felt sick. He ran a shaking hand along his face. Ok. Ok, he could do this. Just don’t look down and don’t think about it. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Techno pushed his thoughts methodically to the back of his mind until all that was left was what he needed to do the job. 

He planted one foot firmly on the rooftop and knelt on the other knee, taking a lower, more stable stance so that he wouldn’t- Nope. Not thinking about it. He slid a pair of electronic glasses from his pocket and put them on. Tubbo had made them to adjust the vision of the wearer. He pulled his bow from his back and notched an arrow. Now to wait….. Hopefully not for too much longer; it was much harder to not think while he was waiting. He focused on steadying his breath. 

A minute or so later, a sleek black car pulled up. 

“Zoom in,” he whispered to the glasses, blinking to readjust his focus as they did.

Techno took a deep breath in and got in position, his arm pulled back, drawing the bowstring. Accounting for any environmental factors, he trained his aim on the man getting out of the car door the driver was holding open. The man stood fully upright and took a step forward. Now. Techno breathed out and released the arrow.

“Shit!” he hissed.

Apparently, there had still been the slightest shake in his hands and it threw off his aim. He still hit his target of course; he was The Blade after all. But it hadn’t been a kill shot. Instead the arrow had landed in the target’s shoulder. There were shouts from below and the other men with the target pulled out guns and aimed them at the rooftop where he was. He drew and notched another arrow. That was the one issue with arrows, they made it easier to identify where the shot came from. Usually that wasn’t a problem though. Phil had suggested that he switch to using guns, but they were too finicky for his liking. Besides, if he wanted a gun used, he should have sent someone else. He drew and fired. The arrow delivered a fatal wound that time. Techno was forced to drop down flat to avoid the shots being sent up at him. He recoiled almost immediately as he was met with the view of the ground far below him. He had caught himself on the raised lip at the edge of the roof with his head hanging over to look straight down. He shoved back from the edge, curling in on himself. There was no air. He couldn’t breathe. He tried desperately to suck in air as his lungs seemed to spasm, refusing to let any in. His mind swirled with what almost happened. He almost fell. Almost died. 

A searing pain on his bicep yanked him out of his spiraling thoughts. A bullet had grazed his arm, hot blood pooling and spilling down. Right, dying was still very much a possibility. He coughed harshly, forcing air into his lungs. His breathing was still far too shallow but it was workable. He grabbed his bow and rolled towards the exit, catching the ledge to swing himself down onto the lower portion of the roof. He landed harder than he should have, wincing at the pain in his knees. Still, he was up in seconds, scrambling for the doorknob. His hands were shaking too much for him to get a grip to turn it.

“Go. Go. Go. Don’t think! Just GO!” he grit out.

Finally the door swung open and he was running down the stairs. Quickly, he was met with some of the men accompanying the target, who had come into the building after him. His panic had cost him precious seconds to get away but, oh well, no matter. He slipped one of his knives from his belt. He felt calmer with a blade in his hand, if only marginally. He rushed forward, closing the distance between them without hesitation. His blade slid along the first man’s forearm before sinking into his neck just above his collarbone. A twisted sense of exhilaration flowed through him as he yanked the blade out with a splattering of blood and turned to the next one.

~~~

The adrenaline carried him as he raced down the steps but, once he reached the bottom, he was shaking like a leaf and exhausted. His comm buzzed to life again.

“Blade, check i-”

Techno cut them off before he registered who was speaking, not that it mattered much anyway.

“It’s done,” he muttered before switching it off. 

He set off, walking down the twisting alleyways. He hated heights, couldn’t stand them, and they knew this before giving him the job so they could deal with the radio silence. Honestly, he didn’t think Phil would ever get it through his tiny bird brain that his kind was not meant to be in the sky. He let out a bitter laugh. Shortly after Techno had met the man, Phil had just grabbed him and taken off into the air. He swore Phil had actually giggled at his screams, telling him that this was nothing, that he should’ve seen what he could do before his wing got messed up. It had been one of the worst of his experiences. He was pretty sure the only reason his request for that to never happen again had been respected was because, once they were finally back on the ground, he had vomited and passed out. And yet Techno still followed and respected the man. Crowfather was good at what he did and looked out for those working with or for him. Besides, there was no malicious intent behind the man’s actions, he just didn’t- couldn’t understand the horrible panic they caused. 

Satisfied that he was not being followed, Techno turned into a hidden inlet in the wall next to him. He pulled his duffel bag from its hiding place, slipping off his bow and quiver to place inside. He cursed as he almost dropped them. Once they were safely stowed, he pulled off his shirt and used the inside to scrub the blood off of his face and hands. He wrapped a clumsy bandage around his arm and pulled a clean sweater from the bag to put on. He wouldn’t bother with his pants, their black color would hide any blood on them. With shaking fingers, he fumbled with the straps of his weapons belt and slipped it into the bag as well. Deciding to leave the knife strapped inside his boot, he zipped the duffel bag closed and swung it over his shoulder. With nothing more to do he slumped against the brick wall. The thought of going back to the Crow’s Nest and climbing all those stairs up, up, up to report to Phil right now was enough to make him queasy, his stomach flipping and twisting with anxiety. No, he definitely needed to calm down before even attempting that. He started walking, letting his feet carry him towards his favorite coffee shop. He hoped that there wasn’t too much blood in his hair, that would be awkward to explain.

~~~

“A green tea latte, please,” he grumbled out, handing over some money and turning away from the counter. 

Techno collapsed into an armchair at one of the tables tucked into the corner of the shop and let his head fall into his arms folded on the table with a groan. He felt like shit. If he hadn’t he might have noticed that he didn’t recognize the barista behind the counter. He might have noticed the packet of powder that was slipped into his drink. But he didn’t notice.