Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Alright, we’re here in Africa boys. We’re gonna steal Africa’s resources. That’s the first step! That’s the first step to any world domination plan. Stealing resources from Africa, let’s do this.” Technoblade reveals his brilliant idea to his chat while punching the nearest tree, “They got more diamonds,” he adds, casually.

[Oh wow
WARCRIME TECHNO TIME
I bless the rains down in africa]

Technoblade frowns at the tree, he’s punching. “I'm not getting any blocks out of this.” He tries to ask for help in the world chat but it doesn’t enter. “I can’t type.” Well, that’s not good.

[F
boomer
✨welcome to the jungle✨
/rainbowchat]

“Alright, we’ve met our first snag in the road to world domination,” Technoblade interjects his chat. “No blocks, no blocks yet. I don’t think I have a connection to the server in fact. That’s my hypothesis, I’m not currently connected to the server. This is going well,” he says, sarcastically.

[it’s already over
lol]

“I think thirty people just got teleported to various spots around the map and the server instantly collapsed in on itself.”

He’s suddenly ripped from the world and transported to a screen reading, “Connection Lost.”

“Welp, that was a short SMP guys. Uh, the series is actually over as of now.”

[technobanned
F
F
blame africa
the world ended
gg
>:0
immediately banned]

Technoblade lets out a breathy laugh at his chat’s outrage and patiently waits for the admins to fix it.

It doesn’t take long and he’s back inside a forest. Something is clearly wrong, though.

“Those aren’t jungle trees.”

That’s immediately apparent. The trees around him are filled with beautiful white flowers. Most of the undergrowth has also changed, from the thick jungle leaves to flowy grass that you’d more likely find in a plains biome. “Definitely not jungle trees,” he brushes a hand across the bark, feeling the different texture. “Weird plants too, hmm.”

With his chat quieted, a stark contrast from the previous loud excited ramble, he investigates. He punches the mysterious tree and the block in his hand is, “Plum blossom.”

That’s weird. There is no such thing as plum blossom trees unless the admins put in mods he wasn’t informed about.

"I guess they moved me to another location," Technoblade mutters. "Chat, I have a feeling we’re not in Africa anymore. But it’s fine. It’s fine. Resources can be stolen anywhere. We'll give Africa a break. We can steal from, hold on let me check my map—”

He pauses from commentating to pull up the map function but stares at the unfamiliar terrain.

This isn’t SMP Earth’s map.

“—the Earth Kingdom,” he says, almost as a question. His location’s marked near the bottom of the Earth Kingdom's landmass.

Instead of the Americas, Asia, Europe, and Africa, there’s the Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, and Air Temples.

As Technoblade examines the map he waits for the overflow of voices buzzing their thoughts but it never comes.

The voices that have plagued him for as long as he can remember, are gone.

“Chat,” he calls. “Chat?”

No answer.

“Guys this isn’t funny.”

Even the low steady familiar hum of chat is gone. They’re never this silent. Not when he’s sleeping, not when he’s injured or sick, they’re always there.

So where are they now? Where did they go?

“Chat!” Technoblade calls again and the responding silence is deafening.

They’re gone.

Technoblade feels an emptiness he’s never experienced before. Yes, there were times he wished the voices would leave but they were also his companions. He's always talking; entertaining. His mouth is always dry and hoarse from the hours of keeping the voices in check.

It’s like a chunk of him has been ripped away. He thought he’d embrace silence when he finally heard it, not mourn. Because the voices might not ever return. He’s alone for the first time in a long time.

Technoblade slides down the plum blossom stump he cut. “Alright, what now?"

His chat's gone. He's in a strange new land and an unfamiliar server. And the stump is digging uncomfortably into his back.

"I could follow the previous plan of total world domination. Keep to it. Gather resources, claim Antarctica or whatever the equivalent here is, Water Tribe or whatever.”

He stands up and takes another look at the map. “Okay, same plan but different area. First, wood.” He’s pretty good at shoving away his emotions. He just needs something to focus on.

Technoblade makes quick work of all the nearby trees. The gravity mod on the server helped immensely. He only needs to punch the bottom block and the whole tree falls.

He replants most of the saplings he collects because it’s such a pretty place with the lovely plum blossoms. He shouldn’t completely ruin it. But he does keep enough saplings to plant later.

He keeps providing commentary, though. After centuries of rambling to chat, well, old habits don’t break easily. “I can finally swear, you know that. Without you guys constantly nagging at me. Let me try it.”

With a deep breath, Technoblade bellows, “FUCK!”

A bird caws somewhere off in the distance and Technoblade feels vaguely embarrassed.

“That wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it’d be. Oh well, got it out. Probably not gonna do it again. Gotta think of my brand and all that. My image.”

He only stops the grind once he hears his stomach grumble. Pesky thing reminding him of the forever mortal need for sustenance.

Technoblade, currently deep in a colossal cave on the hunt for diamonds, starts the trek back to the surface while trying to think of where to find food. He hadn’t prepared a farm and any seeds he plants now would take too long to grow.

His hunger bar is at the point where he can’t sprint after animals so that’s also out of the question.

He’ll have to look for a village. Which arises two main problems. One, he doesn’t know if this server even spawns structures, and two, he could starve before locating a village.

Technoblade finally bursts upward to the surface, eager to breathe air that isn’t from a dingy hole in the ground.

"Blocks, I need blocks." He had dumped a lot of dirt and cobble to save space, "Better vantage point to properly see all the surrounding area," Technoblade says, towering upwards. He continues to jump and spam placing blocks underneath him until he deems the view acceptable.

He squints across the horizon, looking for any wooden or stone structures.

The gods must finally be on his side because he spots a village far off in the distance, southward, judging by the position of the setting sun.

Technoblade quickly destroys his tower and begins speedwalking in that direction. He needs to reach the village before the mobs spawn in and before he takes damage from hunger.

Somehow, the gods must’ve immediately lost favor with him because the sun is completely set by the time the village is in sight.

“Bruhhhh,” Technoblade groans as he coughs up blood. He’s begun to take hunger damage. He puts more power into his fast walking, desperate to make it before it’s too late.

“Food! Food, please,” he begs a villager once he’s inside the village. Technoblade’s not sure how long he has before he’s hit with an arrow or punched by a zombie.

He coughs up another blood splatter onto the poor villager.

“I need food,” Technoblade says again when the villager doesn’t move. “I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die, please.”

This seems to kick the villager into gear because he hurries him into a market square of some kind. It’s weird the trading menu didn’t immediately pop up but Technoblade doesn’t argue.

The villagers appear to be talking which is also strange seeing as they can only grunt and such.

No sounds are emitting from their mouths though. Technoblade blinks, oh right, he turned passive mob sounds off in the cave because of the annoying bats. He fixes that and at once the flurry of panicked voices comes from the villagers.

“He says he’s dying!” the villager he coughed blood on shouts.

Villagers speaking comprehensible words, that’s a first.

“I’m not serving a spirit,” the villager at the market stand sternly refuses.

“I’ll pay,” says the first villager, “please, don’t anger the spirit.”

They think he’s a spirit. Technoblade looks around and notes how he does stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe this sever is human only. He can change his skin, no big deal.

With a few clicks, he looks completely human. If not for the shock of pink hair and the sharper canines. Changing skins is always uncomfortable which is why he doesn’t do it often. But pig-headed men don’t appear to be common here. The last thing he needs is to deal with more bigots.

Technoblade gives the villagers a wide grin, showing off his sharp inhuman teeth, “Better?”

They both look in horror as Technoblade takes more damage from hunger, staining his smile red.

The shopkeeper wordlessly slides some loaves of bread which he gratefully takes. He eats and feels himself heal. “Thank you,” he says because he does have manners, surprisingly. “What would you like in return?”

He’s not an idiot. Even if the villagers' trading mechanic seems to be broken, nothing comes for free.

“Thirty gold pieces,” the shopkeeper states and the other villager’s eyes widen. It’s obviously a lot of money and Technoblade feels he’s being ripped off.

He retrieves one singular gold ingot from his inventory and holds it up for display.

The shopkeeper greedily grabs for it but Technoblade switches his hand to empty at the last second. “This is pure solid gold,” none of those adjectives have any value seeing as all ingots are pure and solid, but it’s making it sound better, “not worth a meager amount of bread.”

Technoblade has always liked bartering.

“I’m traveling South, surely you can provide me with enough food to make it there?” He glances at his nails to appear nonchalant, “I can make it well worth your time,” and he pulls the gold ingot out again. Technoblade waves it around, loosely, watching the shopkeeper’s eyes greedily follow it.

The shopkeeper hesitates, “I can supply you.”

Bingo.

A short while later and Technoblade’s rowing across the ocean is his tiny plum blossom wooden boat with an inventory full of goodies.

“Onto Antarctica! Or the Water Tribe, I guess. The South Pole? Eh.”

He’s surveying the world map again, trying to make sense of it.

“So, Water Tribe is on both the top and bottom which why? Why are there two Water Tribes?? Did they both come up with the same name or something? How’s that work? Or is there one Water Tribe and they split up, deciding to go to the opposite ends of the world?!?”

Normally chat would be filling his head with answers. Most unhelpful then not but still answers. He never realized how much he relied on them.

“The Fire Nation is that group of western islands, looking kinda small to be called a whole nation. I’d give it a settlement at best. Earth Kingdom on the other hand is big enough to be several nations. I wonder what their government is like. Probably not one monarch in charge of it all. Especially for that amount of land it’d be smarter to section it.”

Technoblade glances up to double-check his direction and immediately regrets it.

He groans, “This moving water mod is making me so sick.”

The ocean bobs and weaves, totally different from the silent stillness it usually is. Props to whoever coded it.

Though it is making rowing difficult.

If chat were here, they’d be complaining about how long it was taking Technoblade to get to the Water Tribe. He could almost hear their whining, “Are we there yet?” over and over. Sometimes they were like children. If one ignored their occasional bloodlust.

The South Pole is cold as expected. Technoblade shivers and buries his face in the fur of his coat. Human tolerance towards temperature is the worse.

He narrowly dodges the ice chunks in the water, swerving around the glaciers until he finds the mainland.

Getting out of the boat, he quickly places a sign down.

“Technoblade calls dibs,” he says out loud as he writes.

He had placed a similar one if a secluded spot in the Earth Kingdom. The villagers might be mad at him if they ever discover it but his goal is to conquer the entire world.

“We’re starting small. Has anyone called dibs before me? Unlikely. So I’m laying claim first then later reinforcing said claim.”

It’s foolproof!

“Okay done that. We’re in Antarctica, boys. We did it.” Technoblade sprints across the snow, searching, “We gotta find the fortress.”

It’s not the same server but it’s similar…? There’s gotta be a stronghold somewhere nearby.

“I’m glad I decided to pick this as my base of operations. I mean, look at this place. Look at all the resources,” he gestures at the empty terrain with nothing but frozen water as far as the eye can see, “Incredible.”

It’s hours after Technoblade stepped foot onto the icy wasteland where he admits, not defeat, but temporary recalculation. The area’s a desert and the stronghold is nowhere to be found if there is one.

“I don’t understand. It’s supposed to be here. This is the South Pole, the center of it. If there are any generated structures it should be smack-dab in the middle, right? Right??”

The sun is setting and Technoblade needs to set up shop before the mobs spawn.

“Make a house in the coldest continent and then I’ll start world domination tomorrow.”

Farms too. However, currently, the important part is putting a bed down as a safety net. He won’t need it because Technoblade never dies but it’s for skipping the night. Got to wake up bright and early for the grind.

Once morning dumps him out of bed he begins adding to his base.

“One tree at the South Pole,” he plants a single sapling next to his poorly constructed wooden house. It was a box with a door but it serves its purpose. “Ah, yes, this is perfect,” he says, semi-sarcastically, as he admires his handiwork.

Water Tribe wildlife is officially up by a tally mark. They should thank him. As their gracious generous emperor, he’s restored the flora of a barren region. He’s so kind and thoughtful towards his subjects.

Technoblade catches a glimpse of smoke from off in the distance while finishing his farm, potato buds sprouting from the soil.

“It that,” he narrows his eyes, “a village?”

Curse faulty inferior human eyes. Can’t see anything without having to squint. Bet the reason he didn’t spot that yesterday was because of this form’s terrible night vision.

“Maybe they will have an idea where the stronghold is.”

Villagers talk in this server and appear to be sentient-ish. Hopefully, they don’t mind being neighbors.

“If they aren’t friendly I can kill them,” Technoblade reassures himself, journeying to the village.

“Stop right there!” he hears when he’s within shouting distance.

A boy dressed in blue and white furs threateningly jabs a spear in his direction.

He stops.

“You didn’t say for how long,” he yells back, grinning, as he continues moving forward.

“It was implied,” the boy growls. He waves the weapon again but in the arms of this skinny teenager, it’s as dangerous as any old pointy stick. “I’m warning you.”

“What are you gonna do, stab me?” Technoblade jokes.

He gets stabbed.

Rude, but understandable.

Chapter Text

Technoblade looks down at where the spear is sticking out of his arm where his armor doesn’t quite cover. The boy has horrible aim as it completely missed his vital organs, striking the edge of his hitbox and taking off a meager two hearts.

Unbothered, he decides to ask, “Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?”

It’s a nifty weapon. Shootable like a trident and lighter than an axe. The small damage it does would be worrying but Technoblade thinks that it’d be OP with enchants.

The boy splutters, “What? No! That’s mine.”

“But you gave it to me.”

His hands fly up as he spits, “I didn’t give it to you. I stabbed you! There’s a distinct difference.”

“Yeah, you were pretty bad at that. Did barely anything.” Absentmindedly, Technoblade eats some food to heal faster.

“I did loads,” the boy says, personally offended, “I’m great at stabbing. You’re bleeding and heavily wounded because I did that!”

“You did what?!”

Technoblade munches a potato as the boy gets whacked in the head by another villager. It’s a girl who seems around the same age with similar features. Maybe they’re family.

“Sokka, why would you stab someone? I’m sorry, ma’am… sir…”

The second villager hesitates, considering Technoblade with a tilted head.

He belatedly realizes she's guessing his gender so he helps her out, “Sir’s fine.”

“I’m Katara,” she introduces herself, “and this is my idiot brother Sokka who sincerely apologies for stabbing you.” She grabs the boy by the neck, forcing him down into a bow.

“Technoblade,” he responds.

They both blink and Soda frees himself from his sister's hold, squawking, “What kinda name is that? Technoblade,” he hisses, turning to the girl to whine, “Katara, he could be Fire Nation. We shouldn’t apologize. He could be a spy. Who looks like that?”

Technoblade discreetly examines his own outfit. It’s stylish, surely not worth being insulted over; he’s wearing clothing suitable for a monarch.

“Could be,” Katara reaffirms, “You’ve injured a man on a possibility.”

He’s actually at ten hearts, having fully healed already.

“Are you Fire Nation?” the girl questions.

“What’s wrong with the Fire Nation?”

“See!” Soapa points at Technoblade, accusingly, “He’s a sympathizer.”

“I asked what the Fire Nation did not that I agree with it.” At their skeptical looks, he adds, “I’m new in town.”

“More like new to the planet,” the boy says, aghast, “Have you been living under a rock?”

Technoblade shrugs, “Sorta.”

Why’s this server bullying him for not knowing the lore?

Katara fills him in, “The Fire Nation started the war.”

This will make him feel stupid but, “What war?”

“The hundred-year war. The Fire-Nation-versus-everyone-else war. The killed-all-the-Air-nomads war. None of that rings a bell?”

At Technoblade's blank look, Spoka’s jaw drops, flabbergasted. The boy makes several incoherent stutters while Katara shakes her head, incredulous.

He gets invited in for tea.

Spooka’s was obviously uncomfortable with this and bickers with Katara but she seems too eager to storytell to listen.

“Long ago, in the old days, there was a time of peace. When the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.”

Technoblade sips his tea, doing his best not to interrupt her despite his growing confusion. What is an Avatar? Why the elemental theming? Who did the Fire Nation attack?

“Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop the ruthless firebenders. But when the world needed him the most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed and the Fire Nation is nearing victory. Some people believe the Avatar was never reborn into the Air nomads and that the cycle is broken.”

What does master of all four elements even mean? What’s a firebender? How’d he vanish? Rebirth?? What?!?

“But I believe, somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world.”

Is she done?

“Thanks for the history lesson,” Technoblade says, tentatively, in case she still had more to tack on. “But if this Avatar is so important how’d he vanish? Wouldn’t you keep a closer watch on the guy?”

“He died,” Shoopa answers from where he’s slurping a soup that has suspiciously tentacle-like noodles poking out the bowl.

“And?? Did his respawn point break or something? How’ve you not found him?”

Katara frowns, “He should’ve been reborn into the Air nomads but they were wiped out.”

“Reborn,” Technoblade repeats, puzzled, waiting for her to elaborate.

“After the Avatar dies, their spirit gets sent to the next phase in the cycle. Water, Earth, Fire, Air. The last Avatar was Fire Nation so as soon as he passed he’d become a baby at the Air Nomads.”

“That sounds complicated. Why bother and just not die?”

The siblings deadpan simultaneously.

“Uh, how would he do that? Everyone dies eventually,” Shooka states, ignorantly.

“Technoblade never dies.”

Spocka mutters under his breath, “And he’s talking in the third person,” as Katara goes, “What do you mean?”

Technoblade explains, “Because I’ve never died before so I am immortal until proven otherwise.”

“...That’s not how that works.”

“Sure it is,” he chugs the rest of his drink, “Death isn’t really permanent. Well, maybe for you simpletons it isn’t but I’m built different.”

“Death is permanent,” Katara grips the table, jostling the cups on it, “Death is very permanent.” Her head is low and Technoblade gets the sense he’s landed on a sensitive subject.

Is this a hardcore world or did the respawn mechanic break for everybody? Oh wait, these are villagers, death must seem final for them.

He awkwardly attempts to move away from the topic, “Alright, uh, what’s with the element theming? Air, Fire, Water, Earth, is there a meaning behind that? Did everyone vote on what element their nation would be called or what?”

“It’s reflective of what benders are there,” Katara murmurs.

“What’s a bender?”

Technoblade feels a growing annoyance at how much he doesn’t know. Lore-heavy servers are the worst. He should be creating the lore not getting it from the tutorial NPC.

“Katara’s a waterbender,” Sooka pips up as Katara says, “I’m a bender.”

“It’s basically magic water,” the boy tells Technoblade, making the girl seethe, “It is not!” Soula gets in her face, exaggeratedly gesturing, “You move water around with your mind, therefore magic.”

Katara pushes her brother out of her personal bubble, “How about a demonstration.”

She flexes her hand and Technoblade raises his eyebrows as water swirls through the air, obeying her command.

Shakily, the liquid suddenly drops, and Katara winces, “I’m not very good at it yet.”

The power this child wields at her fingertips. The potential, it’s almost enough to make Technoblade indulge in Philza-like instincts.

“So benders move the element of the nation they’re from,” the two of them nod in confirmation, “Were you born with it or chosen or?”

“Born.”

Technoblade chews his lip in thought, accidentally piercing the skin, the familiar taste of blood spreads across his tongue. “And only a select number have this power seeing as Soaka isn’t one?”

“Soaka!” Soya screeches, “It’s Sokka, pronounced with an -okka.”

“Saga, right, that’s what I said.”

“That’s nothing like it!!”

Katara interjects between stifled snorts, “Yeah, Sokka’s a nonbender.”

“Is being like Sparta more common or are benders the majority?”

Speedo protests against Technoblade’s obviously superior naming sense in the background while Katara shares how she’s the last Southern waterbender.

“These Fire Nation nerds are kinda cringe,” Technoblade declares, hearing how many villagers got permanently unalived from them. He then has to inform the siblings what cringe means.

“Katara,” an old lady interrupts them, entering the room, “You have chores to do.”

“Hey, Snorko, who’s the boomer?” He leans towards Sharpedo for hints. Scrabble glares at him.

“Technoblade, this is my grandmother.”

“Call me Gran-Gran.”

“Hullo,” he greets.

“We don’t get many visitors,” Gran-Gran says, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

That seems reckless. He’s a stranger, they should be wary of him like Shouta is especially considering his past.

“You have good instincts,” Technoblade compliments Shaddup as the women leave, making the boy preen. “But I’m keeping your spear.”

He stands and exits the village, feeling like he forgot something.

“I didn’t say goodbye,” he laments when he makes it back to his base. “And I was doing so well.”

One day he’ll get social interactions down. That day wasn’t today.

Technoblade would be content with never revisiting the village but the siblings found his house. He won’t ever have a moment of peace again.

“It wasn’t difficult. There’s only snow and ice out here. It was easy to find.”

And now they bother him on a regular basis. It’s getting in the way of his world-conquering.

“Hippity hoppity, get off my property,” Technoblade warcries as he pelts them with snowballs. He would kill them but they don’t respawn so nonlethal methods it is.

“Techno, you need to see this,” Katara hollers, “quickly, come on.”

“Unless you’re actively in danger or endangering yourself, I don’t care.”

“We found an airbender!”

“...nevermind, I’m going.”

Technoblade muses on the possible advantages of having an extinct on his side as he nears the village. Before entering the tent, he can hear Shakira talking.

“He’s like our slightly murderous uncle.”

They were discussing him?

“Try not to provoke him.”

And that’s his cue.

Technoblade lifts the pelt door flap, ducking under it, as he walks in. He locks eyes with the airbender. So, this is a bender capable of manipulating the winds and the oxygen inside someone’s lungs?

He’s not sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t this round baby-faced loser.

“That’s a child,” he points out the obvious. “A tiny itty-bitty infant.”

“And that’s an ugly pink-haired bitch,” the airbender cheerily counters.

Technoblade is briefly taken aback. Such snark from a near toddler.

He can almost hear the voices egging him on to murder the boy painfully slow. But they aren’t and he feels no urge for bloody vengeance just concern, oddly enough.

He purses his lips, “Where are your parents?”

Shouldn’t there be an adult supervising this small powerhouse? Granted, Technoblade’s knowledge of parental guidance is limited. He doesn’t really get to have an opinion.

“I don’t have parents. I was raised by monks.”

“Oh, an orphan.”

“Techno, put the sword away,” Squirtle scolds.

“You’re ruining my fun,” he sulks but compiles, “What’s your name, orphan?”

“I’m Aang!” The airbender babbles, “Although, I’m not an orphan. See, airbenders are raised at the temples collectively as a group. Our community is all one big family!”

“That sounds like a cult. Not that I have anything against cults. I had an ancestor who was obsessed with an egg and I myself have certainly dabbled in several over the centuries.”

“Great, you’ve met,” Katara claps her hands together as she steps inside the tent. “Technoblade, Aang. Aang, Technoblade. C’mon everyone else wants to see you too.”

The waterbender drags the boy out and introduces him, “Aang, this is the entire village.”

Aang’s general bewilderment is rather refreshing. Technoblade thought his own confusion on the lore was annoying but imagine how it is for an airbender apparently unaware he’s the last.

“We don’t have time for fun and games with a war going on,” Sarcoma barks at the airbender.

“What war?”

So gratifying. This inner peace. He’s not the only noob anymore!

Aang chases after a penguin and Technoblade uses the opportunity to examine his giant fluffy white cow-like friend. What did he call it, a bison?

This server has loads of unique modded animals, it’s amazing. Like penguins! Who was the crazy bastard who thought of birds that swim like dolphins and slide on their bellies like boats on ice?

“Who’s the cutest cuddliest creature?” Technoblade asks the big furry beast as he scratches its head. “It’s you. You are.” It licks him in response and he chuckles as he wipes the sticky saliva off him. “Eugh, gross.”

“I’ll tell you what’s gross,” Speckle offers, “watching you coo at that monster monotonously.”

“Monster,” he gasps, theatrically, “How could you look at this face and say monster??”

“It sneezed on me.”

“You must’ve deserved it,” Technoblade informs him. He brushes past Salamander’s denials in favor of petting the bison’s floppy ears.

He stops as he hears a whistle fly through the air, reacting with carefully honed battle instincts, instantly searching for the source of danger. “Uh, those are fireworks,” he states a second before the sky explodes with red sparks.

“Fire Nation flare,” Scorpio grimaces.

Fire Nation nerds were arriving? Splendid.

“Free target practice,” Technoblade idly comments.

He’s been waiting to test this server’s PVP skills. Sparring with an untrained Water Tribe warrior isn’t nearly as satisfactory as a real fight.

He’s going to brew speed and strength potions for this. The Fire Nation has held up against the other three nations teaming up on them. They must be capable enough to be a challenge for Technoblade.

The sky has clouded with an ominous feeling hanging in the air when he makes his way back to the village.

He can see Sprinkle standing atop the snow walls, the most pitiful defense.

Technoblade watches a great metal beast surge forward, splitting the ice that holds the Water Tribe’s home cleanly, tearing through effortlessly. It emerges from the fog like a dragon with the same size and imposing aura.

It opens its mouth, breathing smoke as shadowy figures descend from its tongue.

He briefly pauses his awe and amazement to snort at the Fire Nation’s attire. And they say he’s tacky. Seriously, those shoulder pads are bigger than stone slabs. Technoblade should get closer to properly judge them.

Threading through tents, he sneaks toward the Fire Nation and winces when Sparkle goes flying from the leader’s kick. There goes his cool sensei street cred with that embarrassing beatdown.

“Where are you hiding him?” Nerd number one demands. He grabs Gran-Gran, “He’d be about this age, master of all elements.”

‘Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.' -Sun Tzu.

Technoblade repeats the mantra mentally to hold himself back from intervening. He must approach this delicately, lest he lose the element of surprise.

A plume of flame shoots at the Water Tribe, threateningly, but does not touch, “I know you’re hiding him.”

Technoblade prepares to leap at the Fire Nation leader, splashing a multitude of potions at his feet, when Sock reenters the fray. The boy stupidly charges, his club raised, at the nerd who dodges.

He does slightly better this time but it isn’t enough.

The leader summons daggers made of fire and Technoblade quickly maneuvers himself in front of Sherpa.

Nerd number one scowls, “Who-?” but gets interrupted by Aang crashing him off balance.

“Guess who decided to finally show up,” Technoblade says, wryly. He was wondering where the airbender had gone.

Aang slips down from the penguin he was riding who waddles away, “Hey Techno. Hey Katara. Hey Sokka.”

“Hi, Aang. Thanks for coming.”

Technoblade gets into a battle stance as the Fire Nation nerd stands up and motions his soldiers to surround them. Aang does the same and they wordlessly cover each other, facing the Fire Nation with weapons drawn.

A gust of wind pushes snow into the enemies, “Looking for me?”

Why would they be looking for an airbender? …unless the Fire Nation wants to finish what they started. His grip on his sword tightens.

“You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?”

Technoblade freezes, rooted to the ground in disbelief. The orphan’s the Avatar? Why does a lack of parents give people super awesome superpowers?? This is why he hates orphans.

“I’ve spent years preparing for this encounter, training, meditating. You’re just a child.”

“Well, you’re just a teenager.”

Wait, why does that guy get a nicer insult?

“If I go with you, will you promise to leave everyone alone?”

Technoblade frowns, feeling like the noob might not know what he’s getting into. “Hey, want me to kill that guy for you?” He whispers to Aang.

“What? No! Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Take care of Appa for me.”

He’s going to get himself killed.

Welp, not Technoblade’s problem anymore.

Chapter Text

Technoblade does not care if the last airbender is going to die. He doesn't. He offered help and the orphan didn't want it.

He doesn't care that the Water Tribe siblings are going to rescue the airbender because he's not joining them.

So what if they're only children and also probably going to die?

"Kanna, don't they at least need adult supervision?" Technoblade nervously sweats as Sharka loads their canoe.

"I told you to call me Gran-Gran," she smiles, "My granddaughter and grandson are strong. They'll change the world."

"They are children." He reclarifies in case she’s somehow forgotten, “Children.”

"I'm sure they won't mind you tagging along."

Technoblade is not falling for that. This old lady can guilt trip him all she likes, but he is not budging.

Okay, as it turns out they're riding the giant fluffy white cow. He couldn't pass up that.

No, he didn't enderpearl to his base to grab supplies for the trip because he was planning on chaperoning. Nonsense. Lies and slander. He would never volunteer to babysit. He would, however, sit on a baby without hesitation but that's irrelevant.

And it's a giant fluffy flying white cow.

Technoblade loves whoever's modded this. Appa is his new favorite everything. His favorite color: Appa. His favorite dog breed: Appa. His favorite aesthetic: Appa.

Appa is everything. Appa is life. He could start a religion around Appa.

Not that he would. But he could.

The Fire Nation’s metal dragon becomes closer and Technoblade can see the fight happening on the deck. The nerd shoots fire at the airbender, unsteadying his footing on the edge, and sending him tumbling down into the icy ocean.

Katara screams, “Aang, no!”

Technoblade peers over Appa’s saddle and asks, “Uh, so is he gonna turn into a baby now or how does this reincarnation thing work?”

Samba gives him a look as his sister continues bawling, “Aang! Aang! Aang!”

A swirling tornado of water sprays upwards, answering her cries, and launches toward the Fire Nation.

“Oh, cool, he’s alive.” Technoblade says mildly, “I had full faith in him. I knew he would get out unscathed. Freed from the depths of his watery not-grave.”

The airbender sways on his feet after sweeping all the nerds on the deck. The moment Appa lands, Katara runs for him. It’s cute how much she cares for a boy she just met.

Technoblade switches his hand to his sword but doesn’t bother with potions. They were wasted last time. He didn’t even get to fight! But that’s not happening here.

He rushes toward the Fire Nation soldiers and he can almost feel the voices roaring wild unrestrained glee with him. The clang of his weapon versus theirs sends a shiver down his spine. This is what he was made for.

Then Katara freezes everyone to the ground and Technoblade’s bloodbath is cut short.

“You live,” he warns the nerds, “for now.”

He turns his attention to chipping away the ice coating him.

Socrates yells at his sister and Technoblade can’t help but nod in agreement. Friendly fire can’t be fun with permadeath on.

The kids quickly get back on Appa and he reluctantly joins them. Running away isn’t really his style. However, he knows being trapped on the small watercraft surrounded by hostile enemies isn’t an ideal situation.

“Yip-yip! Yip-yip!”

Nerd number one does a series of complicated dance moves with some old man and a giant flaming ball is blasted their way.

Technoblade prepares to hit it with his sword. It can’t be too different from a ghast, right?

But he doesn’t get the chance.

The airbender airbends it into the side of a glacier.

A huge mass of snow and ice descends toward the Fire Nation like a swarm of phantoms, swallowing it in white, and completely trapping them.

Technoblade warily looks at Aang, slightly impressed.

“How did you do that?! With the water? It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Katara exclaims.

“I don’t know,” the airbender responds, “I just sort of did it.”

“…why didn’t you tell us you were the Avatar?”

“Because,” Aang begins and averts his gaze, “I never wanted to be.”

This is why an orphan child shouldn’t be shouldering so much power. Clearly, it should all go to Technoblade. He’d know how to utilize it properly.

World domination would become loads easier with bending. Think of swift sword strokes aided by wind, his weapon shrouded in flame without any enchants.

“Well, if you go to the North Pole, you can master waterbending.”

Aang brightens, “We could learn it together!”

Heh?

“And, Sokka, I’m sure you’ll get to knock some firebender heads along the way.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on,” Technoblade attempts to interject.

“I’d like that,” Synonymous smiles, “I’d really like that.”

“Bruhhh, you guys cannot be thinking of traveling across the entire world by yourselves. You’re a bunch of children.”

“We’re not by ourselves,” Katara points out, “You’re with us.”

Technoblade falters at her logic.

“Then it’s settled! We’re in this together.”

“I did not agree to anything,” he adds for plausible deniability.

How did he get roped into babysitting? He’s supposed to be conquering the world.

“You’ll get to fight the Fire Nation plenty since they’ll be searching for the Avatar.”

Technoblade sighs. He supposes he should take a look at the land before he claims it. Besides, flying on Appa will be quicker than with a boat. He can call dibs on everything as he passes by.

He’s already regretting his decision when Snapple complains, yet again, about being hungry. Kids are the worst. Why can’t everyone spawn in fully-grown like he did?

“Hey! Who ate all my blubbered seal jerky?”

Technoblade wordlessly hands the boy a potato.

Sitka shrinks from the offered food, “No thanks. You can keep your weird round vegetable.”

It takes Katara and Aang both holding him back for him to not murder the boy.

They arrive at the Southern Air Temple and Technoblade plops down his sign. With that, the Antarctic Empire expands ever so slightly.

He rejoins the group where they’ve gathered in front of a statue of some bald old guy.

Aang presents, “Monk Gyasto, the greatest airbender in the world. He taught me everything I know,” and he bows in respect.

Technoblade examines the statue with interest. Maybe he should build one of those for himself as emperor.

“You must miss him,” Katara places a hand on the Avatar, nauseatingly sympathetic.

“Yeah.”

Technoblade subtly scooches away from the icky mushy feelings radiating off the two benders. Human emotions are so gross. He’s lucky he doesn’t have to deal with that.

Chapter Text

The group continues onward to a grand set of doors with a complicated mechanism fixed onto the front. It looks almost entirely wooden, the redstone cleverly hidden as per usual.

“But Aang, no one could’ve survived in there for a hundred years,” the waterbender says, worriedly.

Only a century? That’s rookie numbers.

“It’s not impossible. I survived in the iceberg for that long.”

Technoblade’s been farming potatoes longer than that. He didn’t realize he was surrounded by zygotes.

The airbender’s cheeriness doesn’t ever seem to waver as he excitedly says, “Katara, whoever’s in there might help figure out this whole Avatar thing!”

“You’ll have to figure out the key first,” Technoblade comments, “I’ve never seriously studied redstone, but they’re all fairly simple when you know the trick. If there’s a hopper we’ll have to drop in a specific item. But it’s more likely there’s a hidden lever or button.”

He pauses his rant as the children stare at him in complete confusion.

“Or, uh, we could break through it? Haha.”

Aang quickly shakes his head, “You can’t destroy the temple!” He manipulates a gust of wind into the mechanism and the large doors gradually open. “The key, Techno, is airbending.”

“Right, I knew that.”

They cautiously enter the dark room.

Technoblade draws his sword, prepared for any surprises. He’s severely disappointed when it turns out there are only sculptures inside.

Hundreds of carved life-sized figures arranged in a spiral shape, filling the entire space, lined even along the walls.

“Who are all these people?” Katara asks in wonder.

Technoblade couldn’t care less but it appears that statues are fairly common for those in power. He’ll have to get one for himself sooner than he thought. Maybe he could commission it since he’s never been great at shaping organics. Buildings are always easier. He was actually planning on creating a giant palace for himself but that’s been put on hold.

Maybe he should make his signs fancier, really commit to being the Antarctic Emperor. Beacons could work and would be beneficial in marking out where he’s conquered. But they’re expensive and if he’s constantly moving he won’t be able to set up an iron farm or anything.

He zones back into the kids’ conversation as they finally figure out who the sculptures are.

“That’s Avatar Roku, the Avatar before me,” Aang tells Katara.

“There’s no writing. How do you know his name?” the waterbender asks.

Technoblade is also curious, “You have their memories?”

“No, I don't. I just know somehow.”

Well, it makes sense that he can’t be too overpowered when he’s still practically a infant. The mental strain of experiencing so many different lives would be too much for someone not as awesome as Technoblade.

It’s truly a difficult task for anyone to even get near his skill level. For example, it takes the children far longer than him to notice the scuffling coming from the entrance of the room.

He had already switched his hand to his sword by the time it took Slowpoke to yell, “Firebender!”

It was a lemur.

Technoblade wasn’t quite sure what this new mob was, but judging by the others’ reactions, it wasn’t a threat.

He remains with Katara, not bothering to chase after it. He didn’t want to deplete his hunger bar without a stable food source in the imminent future.

“Do you think I should tell Aang about what happened to the airbenders?” the waterbender asks, softly.

“Uh,” he says, smartly. This seemed like something she had been carefully considering. He’s never been known for giving advice but it couldn’t be too hard. Philza could do it despite his old, practically going senile, age.

“Some people believe ignorance is bliss,” Technoblade starts, his voice lowered with deep untold wisdom.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“But I disagree.”

Katara looks up at him in shock, “What?”

“I’d rather be told the truth so I know where I stand than be tricked, no matter the intentions. If a friend was hiding things from me, I’d feel betrayed. Warfare is based on deception, not relationships.”

This feels like the part where he should hug her for comfort. He hesitates and hopes she can settle with a pat on the back. He doesn’t know where she’s been and all children are gross sticky monsters.

“I…” She’s cut off by the statues’ eyes suddenly glowing with blindingly brilliant light. “Aang!” the waterbender cries and runs off.

Technoblade slowly follows her, wondering why she was always so concerned about the airbender. He’s the Avatar, surely he can take care of himself.

She’s unusually attached for someone who’s only known him for a short amount of time.

“What happened?!” She asks Sloppa as they near, hollering over the roaring wind.

A harsh whipping whirl of storm surrounds Aang, his tattoos shining through the hurling dust.

“He found out firebenders killed Gyasto!” her brother responds.

There’s a funnel of force easily tossing heavy debris carelessly. It’s breathtaking, the beauty of such power.

“Oh, no,” Katara says, distressed. “It’s his Avatar Spirit! He must have triggered it.”

Technoblade has slaughtered dragons before but they are nothing compared to the sheer unadulterated strength radiating off the small airbender.

He wet his lips with an reignited hunger. He thirsts for a fight. He wants to see exactly how much the Avatar can endure. If he too would become a battered bloody mess, a crimson stain on the ground.

His vision clouds.

He tightens his grip around his sword.

He could smack the enemy out the air and skewer him through the gut, feel the glorious red spray over his face. It would paint his teeth, fill his mouth, and he’d drink the glorious feast, howling in victory.

“Techno!” Someone calls, but it rings like dull thunder in his ears.

He runs his tongue over his canines, lengthening them enough to knaw through bone.

“Techno!” The person shouts again but he can’t move. His limbs feel heavy like a slowness potion has been smashed over his head.

That isn’t right.

What’s happening?

Who’s Techno?

With a startled flinch, he reharnesses the features that began to seep through his human skin.

How had he forgotten his own name?

Had he really wanted to kill Aang?

This is... nauseating.

Technoblade truly believed that he wasn’t a monster. The voices that plagued him for as long as he could remember were the problem. They twisted his mind, tricked him into needless bloodshed.

But he couldn’t hear the voices anymore.

Was it all him?

Chapter Text

Every life he had taken. Everything was his fault. He has no excuses, not anymore. There’s no denying what he is.

“Techno!”

He finally turns and looks down, the crimson red fading away and a face comes into view.

“Sokka,” he croaks, feeling parched, “thank you.”

The boy gives him a confused expression but he can’t help but be grateful he was jerked back to his senses.

This isn’t good. He needs to get it together.

The rest of the time spent at the Southern Air temple is a bit of a haze.

Technoblade is only vaguely aware of everything. He lets himself be tugged onto Appa and they land on Kyoshi Island.

How can anyone trust him? How can he trust himself? How has he allowed himself to remain around innocent children??

He tears himself away from the group and tries to think of a solution. He’s smart. He can fix this.

Technoblade’s first instinct is to run. To leave as if he was never there and protect them with his absence. It’s something Philza has constantly done over and over again when mortals are being a bit too curious for their own good. It’s something he could easily do as well.

But he doesn’t want to be like Philza.

“What’s this?” Sokka asks as he carefully hands each child a glassy blue orb.

“An ender pearl,” Technoblade answers softly. “If any of you are in danger, throw it and when it hits the ground you’ll teleport where it landed.”

Immediately, he’s met with a loud scoff, “That’s impossible,” and the boy drops the orb, shattering it into tiny blue fragments.

With a smattering of purple particles, Sokka reappears where he tossed it.

Aang’s eyes widen, “Woah, It does work!”

Technoblade gives the boy another pearl with a sigh. “I haven’t got a lot of these. For some reason, endermen aren’t spawning in the Overworld so I need to travel to the Nether for them. But it’s annoying to build and tear down portals all the time. Don’t use these carelessly.”

If he had his way, he’d dump several stacks onto the children, but NPCs don’t exactly have the inventory space.

Katara hugs him and Technoblade freezes at the unexpected contact. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“It’s really nothing.”

“No, you went out of your way to find this for our protection.” She frowns, “I will become strong enough that I won’t ever need to use it.”

Aang also latches onto him with a cheerful grin and that does it. He pushes the kids off with a scowl.

“Yup, I’m the best, I know. You’re so welcome.”

Sokka is still baffled by the ender pearl and spends the rest of the day pestering him about how it works. It’s only when the boy is dragged by a girl with heavy face paint on that Technoblade actually gets to explore Kyoshi Island.

He’s led around by Aang who’s excited to show him what he’s missed while briefly isolating himself, deep in a panic attack.

“And there’s the giant Kyoshi statue they fixed up in my honor!”

Does everybody have a sculpture of themself? Technoblade desperately needs to start collecting the materials for one.

Katara brings him over to the market when Aang gets distracted, taking him to where she has gathered supplies for their trip. He figures he should at least try to be the responsible adult and begins helping load things onto Appa.

He lets himself be lulled into the repetitiveness of the task, trying to squash the anxiety still lurking in the back of his mind. The false calmness almost worked for a while.

Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

A thundering herd of single-horned ravagers rumble through. Shots of flame spark and catch, creating a roar of burning blaze.

And Technoblade… can’t fight them.

He’s not scared or anything. Throughout his entire life, he’s never been one to shy away from battle, charging straight into it headfirst more often than not.

But he has the power to wipe out all these soldiers, everyone really. Like he always does. He can quickly let himself get lost in the uncontrollable bloodlust in the name of his ideals.

It never mattered before if the voices made him go slightly overboard.

But it does when it’s him.

His scapegoat is gone. He needs to learn to control himself. He can no longer shift the blame, the guilt away from him.

Innocents could die by his hands and he won’t be able to reason with himself it wasn’t his fault.

He’s too dangerous.

So he does nothing.

He watches as the village is swallowed in fire, smoke drifting off of rooftops as people scream in terror.

Technoblade turns away with a wince, hopping into Appa’s saddle, filled with shame.

“I know it’s hard, but you did the right thing,” Katara says softly.

Did he? He feels like a coward. He doesn’t want to constantly run away from his problems like a certain blond. That doesn’t fix anything.

But avoiding it isn’t any better than doing nothing at all.

“Zuko would have destroyed the whole place if we had stayed. They're going to be okay, Aang.”

…Ah, she was talking to the airbender, not him. Technoblade shakes his head, trying to snap himself back to reality.

Who’s Zuko anyways? He doesn’t think they’ve run into anyone with that name. Though he might’ve not been paying attention again.

He doesn’t seem to focus on a lot of things, except war. It’s what the voices demand from him.

Or maybe, that’s just who he is. That’s what he’s been.

Is that what Technoblade wants? To be a mindless merciless weapon??

He thought leaving Hypixel had changed him, fighting for himself instead of for other people.

However, there doesn’t seem to be much of a difference between those two. Violence is still violence, no matter where or why it happened.

Technoblade thinks he should become a pacifist.

Chapter Text

“Teach me how to fight,” Katara orders. A mere days beforehand he would’ve leaped at the opportunity. Why didn’t she ask before he had a mental breakthrough?

Technoblade pauses for a long time, “...no.”

“No? What do you mean no?” the waterbender scrunches her nose up. “You’re constantly looking for an excuse to spar. I thought you’d want to train with me.”

He chews his lower lip. “I’m taking a break from violence. I’m a pacifist now.”

“Since when?” Katara gawks at him while Aang simultaneously says, “That’s awesome!” His voice cracks, becoming incredibly squeaky as he grins widely.

Technoblade’s brow furrows, still trying to understand his own thought process himself. “I was raised a killer. From a very young age, for all of my life, I’ve been nothing more than a weapon. I was forced to become an executioner to survive. The way that I looked and acted caused others to believe that’s the only thing I’m good for. And they made me believe that too.”

The waterbender reaches a hand toward him, rubbing his arm softly. “That’s terrible.”

He grimaces, “After arriving here, I’ve noticed that… I’m out of control. I don’t have any rein over my thirst for blood. So I’m stepping back from fighting. Maybe until I’m better or maybe permanently.”

Aang chimes in, “Monk Gyasto taught me that the first step toward improving yourself is recognizing what it is you want to change and how you’ll work on it.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have said anything. This amount of touchy-feeliness disgusts me.”

“Too late!” the Avatar replies, awfully chipper.

“But I still need to learn how to fight,” Katara laments, muttering to herself. “That battle on Kyoshi Island proves how much experience I lack.”

Technoblade narrows his eyes, “While I don’t want to engage in combat, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say, I could correct your form from the sidelines.”

“That’s a great idea!” Aang shouts, gleefully.

“However,” he gnaws at his lower lip, “you both should be prepared to run. Use the ender pearls I gave you.”

The kids stare at him before Katara asks hesitantly, “Did you plan this? Did you want to protect us… from you?”

Technoblade doesn’t answer her question.

“So the most important part of combat is your stance,” he turns away, rambling to derail the conversation.

Technoblade is the best at ignoring his problems.

Listen, the kids probably needed to figure out how dangerous he is sooner rather than later, but he is not having an emotional heart-to-heart about it. They’d try to convince him that he’s truly good deep, deep deep down inside. And he already knows that he’s not.

So, he focuses on shaping Katara’s abysmal fighting skills.

The annoying part is that the kids keep being weird around him. They were clingy before, but now he’s getting hugged multiple times a day. It’s awful.

Aang, being the overpowered little orphan that he is, has developed the dreadful habit of using his airbending to boost himself onto Technoblade’s shoulders for a higher viewpoint.

He will dropkick this child in self-defense.