Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TW: Graphic descriptions of pain, body horror, mentions of injury, and mild swearing.

A flash of green light obscured his vision, and Technoblade collapsed to the ground, dropping his axe and the wood he’d been carrying. The voices in his head cried out in concern, but he couldn’t make out any words.

Pain flared through his body as though hundreds of hoglins were trampling him into the ground. In all his years, he’d never felt anything as painful as this, and he’d dealt with a lot of pain. Stab wounds, poison, broken bones, and even his skin being scorched off in a pit of lava were nothing compared to the all-consuming agony that snapped his bones and burned his body.

He curled into the fetal position and pressed his face into the hard netherrack, screaming louder. What had done this to him? Was this how he would die? As the pain and tortured screams reached a new crescendo, darkness took over his vision, and Technoblade collapsed into the welcome void.

~ ~ ~

When his screams died down and became tortured muttering, Technoblade’s attacker stepped out from behind the tree where he had been hiding to examine his handiwork. The once-unkillable piglin-hybrid was lying on the floor, prone and shivering, and the attacker grinned. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. It would be so easy to end his pathetic life right now…

“Telabyr, nu gohtowra. Hcotj ci csa wrem. O deqa uiy csa wipalh csec blaag uiy, emg o tiyrg kyhc eh aehoru ceja csan epeu.”

The attacker scowled and turned away, flexing his hands to feel that power again, to feel that tingling that made his hands glow green with magic. He closed his fists and snuffed it out, taking a deep breath. Once he’d regained control of his emotions, he turned back to his target on the floor.

The magic was beginning to take hold, and the soft green glow in Technoblade’s chest continued to change him. Bones snapped, skin stretched, and the shivering form on the floor grew and altered beyond recognition. In just a few minutes, he would be something entirely new. Undoubtedly, the confusion alone would be enough to keep the Blood God’s disciple out of what was to come, not to mention that his friends would be too focused on finding him to see the real issue right in front of their eyes. The attacker smiled again.

“It’s done, master. The Blade is down.”

~ ~ ~

Philza sighed and checked the time on his communicator again. It had been two hours since Technoblade had left to gather crimson wood, saying he’d be back in half an hour. He knew Techno was a warrior capable of keeping himself safe, but he couldn’t help worrying. After everything that had happened since he’d arrived on this server - Phil gulped as he remembered that day - he couldn’t help but worry a bit more.

And he felt he was justified in worrying! The nether was a dangerous place! A crow squawked from the rafters. No chat, he wasn’t being overprotective! When the clock finally struck 7pm with no sign of his friend, Phil gave in and sent Techno a message on his communicator.

[Philza] Hey Techno, just checking in! You okay?

He could feel his crows looking over his shoulder to read the message, and he tensed his wings, readying himself for their comments.

One crow squawked, “Look, Phil messaged Techno!” A couple others let out a scratchy caw that could be considered a laugh.

“He’s probably off killing orphans again.”

“LMAO I bet he’s ignoring you on purpose.”

“You know he doesn’t really kill orphans, right?”

“Hah! The old man is distraught!” Phil’s head snapped around at that comment and he located the crow in question, who was sitting on the back of a chair. It seemed to shrink in on itself when it realised its mistake. Philza didn’t even dignify the remark with a response, instead turning to stare at the murder of crows perched on his couch, all chirping “Oldza! Oldza!” Eventually, they stopped, and he rubbed his temples tiredly.

He felt some flapping next to his head and opened his eyes to see a crow on his shoulder, comfortingly rubbing its head against him. “Don’t worry, Phil… Techno’s too stubborn to die. Plus, he has the Blood God on his side!” Phil patted the crow on its feathery head, taking comfort in its warmth.

“Thanks, mate, but I can’t help worrying. He’s been gone four times as long as he was supposed to be!”

He checked his communicator to find the message delivered, but not read. Philza collapsed onto his couch, birds flying up in every direction as they desperately tried to avoid being sat on. He curled his wings around himself and rubbed one of his feathers between his fingers, trying to stay calm. The crow that had comforted him hopped onto his lap and settled down for a nap while the others watched with jealousy.

One more hour. If Techno hadn’t at least responded to his message by then, he would go looking for him. The crows couldn’t even call him overprotective then, because Techno being missing for three hours really was cause for worry.

~ ~ ~

Technoblade opened his eyes to find his face pressed against deep-red netherrack, the sweltering heat of the nether covering his body like a blanket. He lay there for a moment, trying to figure out what had happened. He searched his most recent memories for clues as he slowly started to piece together the previous day.

He had gone to the nether to gather crimson wood when his vision filled with green light and he collapsed, the pain knocking him out. And now he was here, lying on the floor of the nether. Honestly, it was a miracle nothing had attacked him while he lay on the ground.

Although his bones still ached, the burning pain from earlier was gone, so he decided to try getting up. He tried to push himself onto his hands and knees, but his body didn’t respond. He tried again, forcing the feeling back into his limbs. He grinned when he felt his face being pushed off the ground, but what he saw on either side of his head were not his hands.

In their place were two enormous hoglin hooves attached to two hoglin legs, attached to… Attached to… Techno tried to gasp, but it came out garbled through a mouth that wasn’t his, sounding like a mournful whine. Attached to him! He pushed himself up more and looked down at himself. He was a hoglin!

As he heaved himself onto all fours - which felt so weird, but also so natural - he looked at himself again. Not only was he a hoglin, he was huge. Techno tried to take a step forward and failed miserably, ending up on the ground again. He sighed, then watched as the cloud of dust that puffed up around his snout floated back down to the floor.

What was he still doing here? He couldn’t lie on the nether floor for the rest of his life! Wait, the rest of his life? What if this transformation was permanent? No, he couldn’t go down that rabbit hole right now. He needed to focus on getting out of here and back to Phil. He must be worried sick right now.

As Techno heaved himself up again, he noticed his axe and the wood he’d been chopping lying on the floor next to him, along with his communicator. He hated to leave it all here, especially that netherite axe, but he couldn’t carry it, so there it would stay. As he watched, a message from Phil popped up on the communicator, but he couldn’t even see what it said with his new eyes, much less open it with touch ID and respond. He left it there too.

Technoblade looked at his legs beneath him as he tried to work up the motivation to take a step. How did hoglins walk anyway? Techno had no idea because he’d never really paid attention to them before. He looked around the crimson forest to see if there were any around, and to his surprise there was. The pig was barely visible since it was so far away, but at least it wasn’t obscured by any trees. Techno watched carefully, paying attention to the movement of its legs as the hoglin wandered off until it was out of sight.

He gathered that hoglins walked with a sort of trot. Their front right foot moved with the back left, then the front left with the back right. Kind of like a diagonal thing. He tried to mimic what he’d seen, taking a step with two legs at once. He swayed a bit, but he managed to stay standing. So what if he got the rhythm wrong? So what if he looked like a drunk spider? At least he wasn’t on the floor.

Carefully, he took another step with his other two legs, and when he didn’t fall over, another. He started to move back in the direction he’d come from, using the tree stumps he’d created as a guide. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, except it was deforestation instead of food. Techno grinned at that joke, but his stomach started to rumble. What did hoglins even eat? Other hoglins?

As he walked, the feeling started to come more naturally to him. Slowly, he began to walk with more of a bounce in his step, his heels lifted off the floor so he was walking on his toes, and he started to pick up speed so he was walking instead of hobbling. Admittedly, there were some things that he still hadn’t gotten a handle on. The hooves had none of the grip his boots did, and he found them almost sliding out from underneath him multiple times. And turning? Forget about it. It was like steering a boat with no rudder.

As he rounded a corner five minutes from the nether portal to his house, Techno made the mistake of turning his head to look in the direction of a weird grunt at the same time as he took a step. His two front feet crossed and he hit the floor with a loud grunt. He lay there for a moment, feeling sorry for himself, before starting to get up. Then he heard footsteps.

“Oh!”

~ ~ ~

As Phil walked toward the nether portal, communicator in hand, he tried his absolute hardest to ignore the insistent squawks of chat from back in the house. Only one crow had followed him, and it was the one that had comforted him earlier. If it was trying to become his favourite crow, it was going about it the right way. Although of course, he didn’t have favourites!

It had been three hours since Techno had left the house, and just like he’d told himself he would, Phil had left to go look for him. The crows weren’t pleased, but he didn’t really care. He needed to make sure his friend was safe.

The crow perched on his shoulder as they approached the portal, and Phil took a deep breath before stepping through. He never really had gotten used to nether portals, and the feeling still had his feathers fluffing up and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

It felt like walking through a wall of ice-cold water that gradually became thicker until the air itself felt like syrup. His feet got heavier with each step as if the world he’d come from was trying to pull him back. For the last few seconds, everything stretched and distorted - his body, his mind, his sense of time - before it all snapped back into place on the other side. Suddenly he was standing in the sweltering heat of the nether. The crow on his shoulder gave a shiver and shook out its feathers.

“Yeah, you and me both, mate,” Phil chuckled. He took a moment to shake out his own wings before returning his focus to finding techno. And if his gaze lingered on the damaged wing for just a bit too long, his mind going back to that day… Well, the crow on his shoulder didn’t say anything about it and neither did he.

As he followed the twists and turns of the cavern that led to the nearest crimson forest - Techno had been getting crimson wood, after all - he found himself starting to worry about what could have happened. Again. He could be seriously hurt, maybe even - Phil gulped. He couldn’t even bring himself to think about that possibility. His chat and most server members would dismiss it, quoting his famous phrase, “Technoblade never dies,” but that wasn’t quite true. After all, he wasn’t a god. And even if he was, gods can bleed and gods can die.

As he rounded the last corner before the crimson forest, Philza came across a sight that stopped him in his tracks. A huge hoglin was slumped down in the middle of the path as if it had fallen over. And oh Prime was it huge! Where a normal hoglin came up to a little below his shoulders, this one was easily a whole head taller than him. He unintentionally let out a little “Oh!” at the sight of this giant beast. As it raised its head to look him in the eyes Phil wondered if he should run away while he had the chance.

However, instead of looking fearful or angry, the strange hoglin looked overjoyed to see him. It quickly got to its feet with a happy yip and started bounding over to him.

Despite the weirdly joyful expression on its face, it was still a hoglin, and an enormous one at that, so Phil instinctively brought his hands up in front of his face, his wings curling around him like a protective cocoon. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the beast come to a stop right in front of him, and when nothing happened he let his wings and arms fall back to his side.

Staring at him was the hoglin, a hopeful look in its eyes. No, that was silly. Hoglins didn’t get “hopeful looks”. They were hoglins. He watched as the beast slowly moved closer, cautiously and without any sudden movements, as you would if you were trying to get close to a skittish animal. Why hadn't it attacked him yet? What did it want? It was a meter away, then a foot, an arm’s length, then they were only a few inches apart. Phil didn’t move. He could read the animal’s body language and see in its eyes that it had no intent to harm him. So he just waited to see what it would do.

After they had watched each other for a moment, the hoglin cocked its head to the side as a dog might when it was thinking about something. It gave Phil a gentle sniff and he couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips as the inhale ruffled his hair and loosened his hat. This hoglin must be insanely strong if it could create that much force just by breathing.

The beast then let out a soft grunt and opened its mouth as it leaned towards him. Phil flinched away, not wanting to get his face chewed off, but he was too slow to prevent it from grabbing onto the shoulder of his coat with its mouth. Phil froze as he watched it and the crow on his other shoulder let out a surprised squawk. The pig ignored them both and started to drag Phil away by the sleeve.

“What the actual fuck is going on?”

Chapter Text

(Wattpad Link if you'd prefer to read it there)

*Trigger Warning: This chapter contains blood, body horror, war themes, swearing, and implied violence.*

Philza had faced all kinds of strange creatures before, but never one bold enough to grab him by the coat! He struggled to look at the gigantic hoglin that was currently dragging him across the nether, but it was nearly impossible since it was too focused on the task at hand. 

And to add yet another issue to this whole mess, he was being dragged facing forward, so he was having to struggle to keep his body off the floor. Each step the impossibly strong hoglin took dragged Phil across the ground with ease, making it a struggle just to keep his feet underneath him. If the hoglin decided to let go, he would fall over face-first. 

The crow that had previously been sitting on his shoulder was now flapping around overhead, looking amused. Little feathery menace. So much for being his new favourite. 

“Any chance you’re going to help me?” He called out, wishing he could look into its little beady eyes, but he was at the wrong angle to catch more than a glimpse of it.

That hoglin really said, ‘you're coming with me,’ it squawked happily. Phil ground his teeth a bit and crossed his arms, trying and failing to not look ridiculous. 

This story would without a doubt be relayed to the rest of the murder, and he did not want to be around when they all had a laugh at his expense. If he got out of this alive, that is. After a minute of silence broken only by the occasional grunting of the hoglin and the flapping of his crow, the giant pig spat him out. 

Phil cried out in surprise as he landed in an undignified heap on the floor. The crow squawked happily when it saw Phil land flat on his face. The hoglin let out a guttural sound that had Phil whipping his head around to look at it. Now he had two animals laughing at him! After spitting the dirt out of his mouth, Phil took a moment to look at where the hoglin had brought him. 

They were in the middle of the Crimson forest, which was where he’d been meaning to go anyways, but he had no clue where in the biome they were. 

“Great, now we’re lost. Thanks for that, giant pig,” he grumbled. The pig snorted and shoved Phil with its snout, gesturing with its head at something behind him. Intrigued, he turned around to find… More crimson forest. They really were in the middle of nowhere. 

Then, he looked down. On the floor was a pile of crimson logs, strewn about as if they’d been dropped. Next to them was a netherite axe. Phil rushed over and picked up the netherite axe. Engraved into the handle were the words “Axe of Peace”. 

Phil swallowed a cry. This was Techno’s stuff! He had been here! He dug through the pile of logs, hoping to find some more clues, and came across his friend’s communicator. The message Phil had sent him popped up in the notifications, but as he suspected it was still unread. 

The hoglin, which had been standing right next to him while he made that discovery, nudged him on the arm and gave him a toothy grin. What in Prime’s name? Hoglins shouldn’t be able to smile! 

Phil took a small step away from the creature, unnerved. Now that he thought about it, he had no idea why or how the hoglin had brought him here. How did it know he was looking for Technoblade? And how did it know where Techno’s stuff was?

Phil looked around the area again, knowing that Techno hadn’t just dropped his stuff on the ground for no reason. Footsteps lead from the direction he’d come from, stopping a few steps from the pile of stuff. The ground was torn up like a battle had taken place, and while the nearest tree was neatly cut down, presumably by Techno’s axe, several others were knocked over, their bark splintered as if something large had slammed into them. 

The air felt thick with… something. A strange, familiar unfamiliarity that sent a chill down his spine. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but it made him nervous all the same. He shook it off and continued to investigate. 

He couldn’t find any more clues, but he did notice hoglin prints all over the place. More than could be from the creature bringing him here. Phil slowly turned to the hoglin, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the clues. The hoglin watched expectantly as he took a deep breath.

“Did you eat Technoblade?” 

~ ~ ~

Technoblade choked out what was supposed to be a laugh. Although it came out mangled through his new mouth, the meaning was the same. How in XD’s name had he come to that conclusion? Techno had brought Phil right to the scene of the struggle! He’d waited patiently while his friend deduced what had happened!

The footprints might’ve been a little confusing, but surely Phil could see that hoglin footprints lead away from the clearing and never towards it! Surely he realised how strange it was that a random hoglin had brought him right to the spot he’d been looking for! But no, his friend Philza Minecraft had looked at the scene of his transformation and deduced that he’d eaten himself. Well done, genius.

Phil was still watching him, bewildered, so Techno shook his head violently. Maybe a little too violently, as the sudden and vigorous movement almost caused him to fall over. He looked back to Phil once he’d steadied himself and found his friend’s mouth open even wider than before. 

“You can understand me?!” He gasped, stunned. Techno grinned again. This was progress! He nodded, slower this time so he didn’t embarrass himself by falling over again. Phil just stared at him for a moment. He finally snapped out of it when the crow that had been flapping around landed on his shoulder and let out a loud squawk. 

“Hey, don’t be rude!” Phil reprimanded as he gave it a look. Techno was left clueless, wondering what the bird had said. After all, he couldn’t understand those things whether he was his normal self or a hoglin. Deciding to be a little cheeky, he leaned in and exhaled through his new nostrils, letting out a gust of air that threatened to make the bird fall off Phil’s shoulder. 

It squawked angrily at him, flapping its wings in his face, and Phil burst out laughing. When he had regained control of himself and stopped cackling, he wiped a tear from his eye and sighed.

“Prime, you two are like children!” Then, he pivoted quickly back to the topic at hand. 

“Now, mystery hoglin. How can you understand me?” Techno looked at him with disbelief in his eyes, waiting for him to realise his mistake. It took a concerningly long staring session before Phil smacked himself on the forehead and sighed.

“Of course, I forgot you can’t talk!” Phil appeared to think for a moment, his eyes darting around as he tried to figure out what yes-or-no questions he could ask. 

“So just to be clear, you didn’t eat Technoblade? And you didn’t cause him to disappear either?” Both of those questions received a vigorous shake of the head from Techno. It would be so easy to just tell Phil it was him, if he could only talk. However, his hoglin mouth garbled everything up and made it unintelligible to any non-hoglins. Techno decided to give it a go anyways, speaking slowly and trying to enunciate each word. 

Of course, the sound that came out of his mouth sounded like an angry wail, broken up occasionally by snorts and grunts. Techno sighed internally. He knew what he’d said, and anyone who listened close enough might be able to tell that it was a garbled attempt at speech, but there was no way that Phil would be able to understand it.

Sure enough, Phil was watching him with a concerned look on his face. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, almost like an exasperated teacher, before looking Techno dead in the eyes with an impressive amount of seriousness. 

“What on Prime’s green server was that?! ” 

Techno snorted. He gave Phil an approximation of a shrug, but he wasn’t sure if he really had shoulders anymore, so the movement probably just confused his friend even further. The crow squawked again and Phil nodded sagely. Wisely deciding to move on from the subject of the concerning noise that had just come out of the hoglin’s mouth, Phil spoke again. 

“Good idea. Do you know where Technoblade is?” Techno nodded vigorously. Now they were getting somewhere! 

“Okay, which way?” Phil asked, a smile growing on his face. He likely thought the hoglin could lead him to his friend. Little did he know, his friend was staring him in the face. But how could Techno point to himself? He looked around for a moment, then sat down on his hind legs like a dog. It wasn’t very helpful, but it was the best he could do.

“Well, thanks for the help,” Phil said with an exasperated sigh while Techno watched with jealousy. He’d love to exasperatedly sigh right now, but it would probably come out sounding like he was retching. He decided to try the speaking thing one last time, focusing on the hum-like ‘m’ sound, then letting out a whine that was supposed to be an ‘e’. 

He was pretty proud of what he’d accomplished, but Phil just watched, shaking his head. 

“You are one weird hoglin! Let’s try this: Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” Techno nodded again, then heaved himself up to sit next to the pile of logs and his axe. He used his snout to point at the pile, then at himself. 

“Oh, are you looking for Techno too?” Technoblade paused for a second. Well, it was closer than before. He nodded, then shook his head, since he didn’t think Phil would understand a shrug.

“Well that wasn’t confusing at all. Do you want to help me look for him?” Techno nodded vigorously. Even though he would be helping Phil search for someone they would never find, he’d at least be able to stay close to his friend and keep him safe until this transformation wore off. Or at least until he found a way to tell Phil that it was him. Oh, he hoped the transformation would wear off.

“Okay, well it’s 9pm now, so we can search for a few hours before I have to go back home-” Technoblade cut him off by grabbing onto his sleeve again and dragging him out of the clearing. He might be willing to let Phil search for himself, but he wouldn’t let him lose sleep over it when Techno was in no danger. 

He determinedly marched towards a small cave he’d seen earlier, intending to get Phil to rest for a bit. If he could talk, he would have said Nope, the old man needs his rest! Although Phil was only two years older than him, he had been dubbed ‘old man’ by Tommy and to his friend’s dismay, it had stuck. Sadly, he couldn’t talk so his brilliant joke was lost on everyone but himself.

“No! Bad hoglin! Stop dragging me around!” Phil, obviously, did not understand his intentions and was struggling like a child being dragged out of a toy store. Techno huffed and continued on his way. 

~ ~ ~

“I know you can understand me!” Phil griped, “So just put me down!” He’d been trying and failing to negotiate with the hoglin that was dragging him around for the better part of twenty minutes, but he’d still made no progress. He crossed his arms and sighed, staring up at the nether roof as the hoglin continued to drag him through the warped forest. 

Sure, he could just pull out his diamond sword and make the hoglin let him go, but that just felt… wrong. After all, it didn’t seem to have any intention of hurting him, and it supposedly knew where Technoblade was. Heck, it might even be taking him there now! He couldn’t just stab it for no reason. 

Suddenly, the beast let go of his coat and he fell to the ground in an undignified heap, causing a cloud of red nether dust to rise up around him. He kept his eyes closed for a moment so the dust wouldn’t get into them, and opened them again to find his crow sitting on his stomach, his green-and-white striped bucket hat in its beak. Phil opened his mouth to ask the crow for his hat back, but before he could it had hopped forward and dropped it on his face. 

Phil sighed and sat up, placing the hat on his head and brushing all the dirt off his emerald-green robes. This was certainly becoming an interesting day. Phil began to stand up, only to be stopped abruptly by the ceiling. The ceiling? Oh, it seemed the hogling had brought him into a cave. He rubbed the bump on his head sullenly. Speaking of the hoglin, he turned around to find it lying down in front of the exit. 

Between the top of the hoglin's head and the roof he caught a glimpse of the warped forest with its blue-green trees. Good, they hadn’t gone too far. Now all he had to do was get out of here. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Wrong. Twenty minutes later, Phil had finally reached the end of his rope. He’d tried everything from climbing over the hoglin to mining out to pushing it out of the way, but nothing had worked. The pig only had to shift slightly to send Phil tumbling to the floor, his attempt to climb out thwarted. When he pulled out his pickaxe, the beast simply butted him with his head and gave him a hurt look until he felt guilty enough to put it away. As for pushing it out of the way? Well, he’d have to be pretty stupid to think that one would work. The thing was at least five times as big as him. 

Now that he’d deduced that escaping was impossible, he stopped pacing and slumped against the wall, letting himself slide down to a sitting position. The hoglin raised its head from the floor at the noise, and upon seeing Phil finally resting, let out a self-satisfied snort. What was wrong with that thing?

“Why are you like this,” he grumbled, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. The hoglin ignored him, and instead decided to once again grab him by the coat before pulling Phil towards itself. At this point, the jacket surely had a mark from the hoglin repeatedly dragging him around by it. He tensed up, wondering what its motive was, but the fuzzy creature simply propped Phil up against its stomach before laying its head back down to sleep. 

Although the nether was warm and he definitely didn’t need any additional body heat, the physical contact set off a fuzzy feeling in his chest and he just couldn’t force himself to pull away. 

He watched as his crow - which had previously been hanging upside down from the ceiling like some kind of weird-ass bat - fluttered down to perch on his lap. It waddled around in a little circle a couple times before settling down with a happy chirp.

Phil sighed. Was it bad that this moment was bringing back memories of a simpler time? Although his friend was undoubtedly somewhere far away, Phil couldn’t help but think of him. He felt the stifling heat of the nether disappear as he was brought back to a day many years ago, when he’d first met Technoblade. 

Two soldiers from opposite armies, left marooned alone in the aftermath of a great battle. When they awoke, they found a battlefield littered with the bodies of people they had once known. 

Their eyes met across the sea of people, two survivors who had been left behind. One, a bright-eyed, blonde-haired avian with wings of the deepest black, the other, a piglin hybrid with haunted, blood-red eyes and a crown perched on his head. 

Though they fought on opposite sides, as they regarded each other across the field all each saw in the other was a teen who had been through far too much. In an unspoken agreement, the two dropped their weapons and began to walk towards the middle of the battlefield. 

Each had to step over countless bodies to reach the center, and while the avian grimaced, his eyes pricking with tears, the piglin whispered a quiet prayer, hoping that at the very least, those poor souls would have a pleasant afterlife. 

When the two boys met in the middle, each paused just an arm’s length away from the other. The two steps between them seemed like an unfathomable distance, a chasm thousands of miles deep and long. Neither knew what to do now, fearing that if they took the first step they would fall should the other not respond. The avian was the first to cross the gap, sticking out a hand to shake with a forced grin.

“Hey, the name’s Philza.” Though it was forced, though it was the most awkward situation either had ever found themselves in, it was a start. 

Hours later, the two teens sit back-to-back in the shade of a weeping willow and trade stories over rations. They had walked for half the day to distance themselves from the blood-soaked field where so many good people had met their ends. Now, though, they are far from the battle, and it’s as if a colossal weight has been lifted off their shoulders. 

No longer do they fear for their lives. No longer do they stand at attention, waiting for the orders that will decide their fate. No longer do they watch their backs, expecting betrayal, for they now watch each others’ backs. With all the pressure, expectations, and loyalties ripped away, they are just two teens who need someone else to lean on. Now, they’ve found them. 

Phil sighed as the cool, flower-scented breeze of the meadow faded away and the heat of the nether returned, settling itself on him like an unpleasantly hot blanket. He tried to hold onto the grounding weight of Techno’s back against his, and given that he was still lying against the hoglin, it wasn’t too hard. 

If only it was Techno who was behind him instead of the hoglin. Still, he would take what he could get. The pig had been weirdly kind to him, for a hoglin, and he was beginning to enjoy its company. It had even forced him to rest when he was intending to overwork himself by spending the night searching for his friend. 

Focusing once again on the comfortable heat bleeding through his coat from the hoglin behind him, he surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep.

Chapter Text

*Trigger Warning: Panic attacks and swearing.*

Technoblade quickly realised three things when he woke up. Firstly, he was still a hoglin. He let out a little huff. Unsurprising, but still disappointing. 

Secondly, he realised that Philza was fast asleep against his chest, which brought a proud grin to his lips. He didn’t know what time it was, but Phil at least looked well-rested, which was good. He couldn’t just have his best friend running around looking for him, absolutely exhausted when he knew Phil would never find him.

He didn’t realise the third thing as quickly as he did the first two. He simply made his way through his usual morning routine, or the parts of it that he could still do as a hoglin, and that didn’t require him to move. 

Really, that narrowed his options down considerably, but Techno eventually settled on doing a spot of mindfulness to keep himself grounded in this frankly bizarre situation. Nothing fancy, just some breathing exercises while he took stock of his surroundings.

In, 2, 3, 4. Techno felt the fiery heat of the nether settle in his bones, but in this form it didn’t seem to bother him as much.

Out, 2, 3, 4. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the chattering of endermen and the snorting of piglins, not close enough to pose any threat, but undeniably there. 

In, 2, 3, 4. He’d never paid much attention to it before, but the nether smelled absolutely putrid, and Technoblade couldn’t un-smell the sulfuric, ashy scent once he noticed it. 

Out, 2, 3, 4. Phil was still leaning against his chest, his friend’s soft heartbeat and calm breaths calming Techno in turn. If Phil knew that this hoglin was him, he knew he’d be suffering through immense teasing for a long time. In fact, he was surprised his Chat hadn’t said anything about it yet.

Usually, they’d pull Techno from his sleep in the morning, the voices in his head far too chipper for the ungodly hour, chattering about anything and everything until he finally found the motivation to get up. Then, they would good-naturedly mock his every move as he went about his day. Their favourite joke was to repeatedly call him ‘Technosoft’, whatever that meant, whenever he got sentimental. He really would have expected to hear a chorus of ‘Technosoft’s for this choice, but he heard nothing. 

Tentatively, Technoblade reached for the corner of his mind where he knew they resided. This wasn’t necessarily new, he’d been given the silent treatment before, but something felt different this time. 

When his consciousness touched the space where Chat should have been, he found nothing but silent emptiness where they had once been. Techno just barely had the presence of mind to suppress a full-body flinch, but inside, his mind was racing. Where was Chat? 

Ever since he’d received them years ago after pledging himself to the Blood God, they’d been his constant companion. They may have been annoying sometimes, and their clamouring gave him the occasional migraine, but they were his. His own personal advisers - a gift from the Blood God - that were with him every step of the journey that was his life. 

Even before he’d met Phil, he’d had his chat. Maybe they were a little too clingy at times and altogether too bloodthirsty at others, but Techno couldn’t remember being without them for well over a decade. He didn’t think he knew how to be without them.

Blood God! Technoblade called, fear lacing his voice with anger. If he was in a better headspace he might have thought to calm himself before he spoke to his god in a way he’d regret. It didn’t matter, though, because he received no answer. Techno pushed harder, projecting his mental voice throughout every corner of his being, begging Blood God to respond.

Please, tell me what’s happening! Technoblade hadn’t felt this confused since he’d woken up to a battlefield of bodies all that time ago, but he couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed at his desperate tone. Blood God always responded to him, albeit cryptically, when he called. So when He didn’t, Techno felt for the connection and found it gone. 

Well, maybe not gone, but most definitely inaccessible in the same way that Chat was. The small part of his mind that wasn’t lost to panic managed to reason that it really didn’t make sense for a random hoglin to have the Blood God and His Advisors in his head. After all, that’s what he was now. 

Not The Blade, fearsome warrior.

Not Technoblade, the Blood God’s disciple.

Not even Techno, Phil’s best friend. 

He was just a random hoglin. With a resigned sigh, Techno slumped even further to the floor of the cave. Surely, everything would go back to normal once he was a human again, right? Or rather, if he was a human again. Techno couldn’t quite hold in the strangled whine that clawed its way out of his throat. 

He wouldn’t be stuck like this forever, right? Phil had to realise it was Technoblade eventually, or maybe whatever this was would wear off on its own. He just had to cling onto that margin of hope, however slim, as if his life depended on it. His tusks trembled slightly with his next exhale, and he dug his hooves into the cavern floor, grounding himself. After all, his life did depend on it. Without that hope, he had nothing. 

If he wasn’t himself, who was he? Just some random pig that no one would ever look twice at. He’d never be able to go back to who he was before if he was stuck like this. He’d forever be a nobody, a nothing. Even Phil would-

“Hey, mate, you alright?” Phil asked, his voice dripping with concern. Phil. Techno hadn’t even realised his friend had woken up, but the man now had his hand resting gently on Techno’s cheek. Technoblade took a deep breath and let it out. 

“Do hoglins have nightmares?” Phil wondered aloud, “Because that’s what that looked like.” Techno snorted but didn’t bother nodding. He’d dreamed of nothing that night, but it felt like he was living one. At least for now Phil was by his side, even if he wouldn’t be there forever. 

~ ~ ~

Phil watched the hoglin’s reaction for a moment to see if it would answer with a nod or a shake of its head, but it just snorted and heaved itself to its feet with a grunt. It lumbered back out of the cave they’d been in and started to stretch itself out like a cat. He’d never seen any hoglins do that before, but then again he’d also never seen any hoglins that didn’t want to kill him. 

He watched from the entrance for a moment, not wanting to startle the hoglin. When it finished, it turned around and motioned for him to get out of the cave with a wave of its head. 

“Well, I think I have to go back to my house now,” Phil said with a yawn, stretching out his stiff wings and back. The hoglin cocked its head questioningly at him. “Techno might be back, and I also need to check in with my Chat.” The hoglin snorted and started off, presumably the way they’d come from the previous night.

Good thing the hoglin knew the way, because Phil hadn’t been paying attention at all. He’d been much too busy being annoyed at the creature for dragging him around like cargo. It seemed to have moved past that now, thankfully, since it was just leading the way. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” he called to the crow that was still hanging upside down from the ceiling. It cawed indignantly and flapped after him as he jogged to catch up with the hoglin. 

~ ~ ~

A man paused as he stepped into a clearing in the forest, contemplating the plan his liege had shared with him.

“But master,” he asked carefully, trying not to sound disrespectful, “I still don’t see why it’s necessary.”

“Emonerh– emg ci csec amg suflogh– ela Wlona’h gineom. Ob o omcalbala pocs sal tlaecoimh, oc oh pocsom sal lodsc ci omcalbala pocs nu wrem.” There was a crunching of leaves, and the man whipped his head towards the sound only to find nothing but a cow.

“Omhcaeg, o nyhc lamgal csan omtewefra ib bodscomd fu biltomd csan ci anfleta csaol fahcoer hoga.”

“An intelligent workaround, but what of the rest of them? Technoblade is only one of many on this server,” he muttered contemplatively as he began to scale a tree, hands easily finding purchase with the aid of his magic. 

“Catsmifrega emg wsorxe ela csa imru suflogh csec piyrg fa ib nyts cslaec ci nu wrem. csa icsalh ela aocsal cii paej, cii htelag, il icsalpoha omtewetocecag. eh bil wsorxe, catsmifrega diomd nohhomd hsiyrg fa amiyds ib e gohcletcoim.”  

Now on top of the tree, the man leaned himself against a branch, ensuring that he wouldn’t fall off while resting. “Truly a perfect plan, master,” he said, cringing at the repeated use of the word ‘master’. He didn’t like to answer to anyone other than himself, so sucking up like this was difficult, despite it being necessary. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some rest before we put the plan into action.”

Carefully, he cut the connection in the back of his mind, enjoying the quiet emptiness of having his thoughts to himself. Before long, he had fallen asleep.

~ ~ ~

“Okay, now you wait here while I go back to my house,” Phil said, turning to the swirling purple portal in front of him. He took a deep breath to prepare himself and was a moment away from stepping through when he felt warm air on the back of his neck.

“What the fuck?!” He yelped, whipping around, only to find the hoglin staring at him. “No, bad hoglin. You can’t come through the portal, you’ll zombify.” The hoglin snorted and took another step forward. “Stay here. Sit,” Phil commanded, pointing at the ground. The hoglin ignored him. Oh he saw how it was. 

Philza placed a hand on either one of the hoglin’s tusks and began to push. Every survival instinct he possessed blanched at the thought of putting his hands and face so close to a wild animal, but his phenomenal judge of character– which had surely never led him wrong in the past– said the hoglin was a friend. 

Although, Phil wasn’t sure where his thought process had been at when he thought this was a good idea, since trying to push a multiple-hundred-pound hoglin when it didn’t want to move was just not possible. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“No,” he declared again, pushing with all his might as the hoglin watched him with amusement twinkling in its eyes. “No, no, no.” His muscles strained, his wings flapped agitatedly, his crow cawed supportively, and he felt the immovable creature shift a little. “Yes!” Phil crowed, pushing harder, and actually managed to move the hoglin about a foot before it dug in its feet and stopped his progress. 

Phil kept pushing, but the hoglin didn’t move this time. Not an inch. It didn’t even blink. “You little shit,” Phil muttered exasperatedly. 

They locked eyes, and the hoglin gave an approximation of a grin before it lifted its head up, pulling Phil– who was still clinging to its tusks determinedly– off the ground. “No!” Phil yelped, swinging his legs around as he tried to get down. The thought didn’t cross his mind to just let go, irrational instincts telling him that letting go would be admitting defeat. So, he just clung on as the hoglin began marching forward with him in tow. 

“No! Put me down!” Phil yelled at the hoglin, deliberately trying to be loud and annoying, but it didn’t even flinch. He flapped his wings around, batting at the hoglin’s face. That did nothing but tickle the hoglin’s nose a bit, which- uh oh. Phil stopped struggling as the hoglin took a deep breath, then another, before releasing the built up pressure. Its head jerked downwards and Philza barely managed to cling on, praying that he wouldn’t get covered in snot. 

He didn’t, but he was still shaken, hat askew and hair sticking up like he’d been struck by lightning. Despite that experience, Phil remained resolute. “No,” he repeated. No one could argue with that. Surely. The hoglin snorted and marched through the portal.

~ ~ ~

Technoblade shivered as he passed through the portal. His new body really didn’t like the cold. Actually, it probably wasn’t very smart for a nether animal to go to a snowy tundra. Too late now. 

Also, score! He hadn’t zombified! He’d been hoping that he wouldn’t, that there was enough human left in him that he’d be immune, and he was right. As a piglin hybrid, he’d never zombified, so he assumed it was the same for a piglin hybrid-turned hoglin. It was a bit of a risk, but that was fine.

“Phil?” A voice called, and Techno’s head snapped around, trying to find the source. Of course, with Phil clinging to his face, it was a little difficult to see. Luckily Phil let go and turned around, dusting himself off and straightening his hat. 

“Ah, Ranboo. Hello.” Oh, so it was Ranboo. That was no big deal. The enderman hybrid was nice, if a bit of a scaredy-cat. 

“Um, Phil? Why is there a massive hoglin behind you?” Ranboo asked, voice trembling as he looked up at Techno’s massive frame. Alright, Ranboo was a big scaredy-cat. Maybe Techno should mess with him a bit. He’d done it to Phil, he’d done it to the crow, at this point it was a tradition that whenever he met someone he had to scare the shit out of them. 

Before Phil could respond, Techno walked past him and up to Ranboo. Ranboo blanched, his enderman side somehow fading to a dark grey. He seemed too scared to move as the hoglin grew closer, and Techno almost felt guilty. Key word, almost. “Um, nice hoglin?” Ranboo stuttered. Technoblade would have laughed if he could.

Poor Ranboo just looked up at him with wide eyes.The teen had always been taller than him, his lanky frame and enderman heritage lending him absurd height, but now Techno was the taller one. How the tables had turned.

He had to bend down to reach Ranboo’s chest, and proceeded to bump him gently. Well, he thought it was gently, but the teen fell backwards and landed in the snow. Techno copied him, sitting back on his hind legs like a dog even though the snow was so cold he felt like it was burning him. To complete the image, Techno bared his teeth in a grin, but probably looked like he was declaring he was going to eat him. 

He heard a click and turned around to find Phil with his communicator up, taking a photo of the two. “Don’t mind him, Ranboo, he’s a big softie. He wouldn’t hurt you,” Phil said with conviction. Techno was pleased that his friend trusted him that much, but it did raise some concerns about Phil’s level of trust for a random wild animal. That man really did get attached quickly.

Despite Phil’s surety, Ranboo didn’t see convinced. “Does he have a name?” Techno paled. Oh no. He’d avoided it thus far, but clingy Phil would surely be engaged soon. If he gave Technoblade’s hoglin side a name, he would never hear the end of it and he’d probably be called it for the rest of his life.

“No, he doesn’t have one yet. Any ideas?” Oh no. He was doomed. He stood back up and stomped over to Phil. No. He would’ve said if he was capable of speaking, don’t you dare. 

“How about Pork Chop?” Ranboo suggested. Techno looked back to the teenager who gave him a sly grin while dusting off the suit that he constantly wore for some reason. Why did he surround himself with people like this? Now Phil was grinning too! Please, could they have at least some mercy?

“Maybe Frank? Or Walter?” Phil suggested, staring thoughtfully off into the horizon. Why? Just why? Why was Phil trying to give him an old person name? Frank wasn’t awful, but Walter? Really? Techno snorted offendedly and Phil’s eyes flicked back to him. “What do you think, hoglin? Wow, now I feel a little bad for just calling you ‘hoglin’.” 

Techno snorted again. It was practically the only noise he could make to express his emotions that wouldn’t scare the living daylights out of people, so he continued to overuse it. 

“Oh, I know! Snort when you hear a name you like!” Phil suggested, his wings flaring out a little, like they always did when he was excited or pleased with himself. Techno found himself smiling fondly. Ranboo gave Phil a sceptical look. 

“But how’s he going to-”

“Gus? Archie? Bernard?” Phil suggested, completely ignoring Ranboo. Techno stayed silent. He would not be agreeing to one of those ridiculous names. Absolutely not. He did know that he would probably be stuck with something even worse if he didn’t pick one, though. Ranboo seemed to just accept the strangeness, and started to give his own suggestions too.

“Beefcake? Baconator?” Why was the teen adamant about naming him after food? It was getting slightly concerning. Should Techno be scared for his life? Nah, he could totally take Ranboo, even as a hoglin. 

“Clive?”

“Oinkers? Hoglinius Maximus?”

“Bruce?” Techno paused for a moment. Well, out of all the names he could have, Bruce was far from the worst. Also, he could appreciate the pun: Bruce was only a letter away from brute, and in this form he was pretty brutish-looking. After thinking for a moment, Techno gave a snort. XD, he was regretting this already.

Phil, however, looked delighted. “Alright, Bruce!” Ranboo looked mildly disappointed, but had he really thought the great Technoblade would want to be called Baconator? What even was that? “C’mon Bruce, I have to check on my crows!” Leave it to Phil to immediately overuse the name. 

“Wait, how did it know to snort when it heard a good name? Can it understand us?” Ranboo asked, seemingly just putting the pieces together. Techno gave him a little nod and Ranboo sucked in a surprised breath. “What the fuck?” Ranboo muttered fervently. “What the fuck! Mobs aren’t supposed to be able to understand us?”

“Well, this one can,” Phil said easily, not even turning around as he strolled toward his house. “Also, I think Bruce is a he,” Phil added, before looking to Techno for confirmation. Techno nodded vigorously, suddenly thankful that he hadn’t gotten a name like ‘Princess’ or ‘Pinky’. 

“But how come he didn’t zombify? He’s in the overworld?” Ranboo asked, phrasing it like a question. Technoblade knew the answer: He was a piglin-hybrid turned hoglin, so the human part had saved him from that fate. They didn’t know that though, and neither did Phil

“Actually, that’s a good question… Why didn’t you zombify?” Phil asked him, and Techno just looked at him. Why couldn’t Phil get it into his head that he couldn’t speak and therefore couldn’t answer questions? He seemed to realise it after a moment, though, because he sighed. 

“I don’t know, I guess he’s just a special hoglin,” Phil decided.

“A special hoglin that can somehow understand us and go in the overworld?” Well, he was a special hoglin, just not in the way they were thinking. In the way that he was actually their missing friend who had been turned into a hoglin. Close enough, though.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Chapter Text

*Trigger Warnings: Implied stalking, threats of violence, dark magic themes, bodily harm, trauma, and swearing.*

Phil had made many awful decisions in his life, but allowing the gigantic hoglin–Bruce, he corrected himself–into his house had to be one of the worst. He stubbornly shoved down any memories of past mistakes that managed to surface, doing his best to ignore all of that and focus on what was happening now. Because seriously, the amount of stuff the hoglin had managed to break or knock over was pretty ridiculous. 

All his pictures had been knocked off his walls, dishes had been shattered on the floor, various knick-knacks had been smashed, chairs had been stepped on, and now the hoglin had decided it would be a good idea to try and sit on the couch. Safe to say, it very much was not. 

Phil stared at Bruce, who was sitting like a dog in the center of what was once a couch, and tried to put his thoughts into words. “Why? Just why?” he asked, his tone dry and exhausted. “Why must you break everything?” The hoglin gave a little huff that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. 

Ranboo, from where he was standing in the door, just shrugged and said, “Well, you could’ve just left him outside.” Philza looked back to the hoglin, who was still sitting on the remains of his couch, and contemplated his life choices. 

“He looked sad,” Phil justified, “and he’s a nether mob. Even though he didn’t zombify, I couldn't just leave him out in the snow!” Ranboo just stared at him blankly. Phil sighed and turned back to the crow perched on his finger. “I’m going to go back to the nether, since that’s where Technoblade was last. You guys just stay here.” 

There was a moment of silence as the crow turned around to face the rest of the murder, who were perched in various spots around the cabin. One was even sitting on Bruce’s tusks. Bruce did not look pleased by this, but he didn’t shake it off. After the moment of silence had passed, the crows all started chirping in unison.

No!

Take us with you!

We want to come too!

Porkface can’t protect you!

Porknoblade!

Yes, hoglin-noblade!

“No, chat,” Phil scolded, shaking his head, “not every pig we meet is Technoblade.” The hoglin’s head shot up immediately at the mention of Techno’s name, and Phil wondered not for the first time if Bruce was Technoblade’s pet or something. He started to shake his head vigorously, and Phil continued, “See, he agrees! Bruce is not Technoblade.” Bruce gave him a disappointed look that Phil decided to ignore because how was a hoglin giving him a disappointed look? Was everything they thought they knew about mobs wrong? 

When the murder continued to crow about various Technoblade-related things, Phil added, “Move on, guys. Also, you’re not coming with me. One or two of you, maybe, but I’m not having all of you following me through the nether, it’s dangerous.” Another cacophony of cawing ensued, eventually ending with the crow that had followed him to the nether originally and a crow that appeared blind in one eye hopping onto his arm. 

Ready to go, Dadza! The half-blind one chirped. The other bird gave it a look and hopped from Phil’s arm onto his shoulder. He made no move to dislodge it and instead turned to Bruce. 

“Come on, Bruce,” Phil called, turning to the hoglin. “Let’s find Technoblade.” He had no idea how close he already was. 

~ ~ ~

“So,” Phil started, hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene once again. “This is the last place we know Techno has been.” Phil spun slowly in a circle, taking in the trashed clearing and the pile of stuff on the floor, including Techno’s prized weapon, the Axe of Peace. “If he was really attacked here, he was either captured or he escaped in a hurry. He wouldn’t have left this here otherwise.”

After a moment of contemplation, Phil picked up the axe, along with Techno’s communicator and any other important things that had been left there, deciding to hold onto it until they found Techno again. 

Bruce huffed. Phil looked at him questioningly, but the hoglin just shuffled a bit, as if he had something it wanted to tell him but no way to say it. If only Bruce could talk, Phil couldn’t even imagine the kind of things he could learn. As it was, though, Bruce could only answer yes or no questions, meaning that unless Phil asked very specific questions he wouldn’t be getting that many answers. 

“If he was captured, we have no leads on where he could be. There are plenty of people on this server that would want to kidnap him.” Phil gulped, remembering the whole Butcher Army fiasco. He took a deep breath, shoving down the memories of watching Techno being crushed, bones cracking and skin splitting as the anvil crashed down–

Phil closed his eyes and took another deep breath. He really shouldn’t be dwelling on that memory, no matter how awful it was to watch, because Techno hadn’t even died! Thanks to his totem of undying, Technoblade had escaped nearly unscathed, with the exception of the gold scars spiderwebbing across his face where the Totem had stitched him back together.

Although he was calmer now, Phil took another deep breath, forcing the analytical part of his mind to take control from his emotional side. He was going to get nowhere if he kept getting distracted like that. The crow on his shoulder rubbed its head against him and he scratched it on the head gratefully. 

“If he escaped, he must be pretty hurt if he hasn’t come home yet. Where would he go if he needed to hide in the nether?” Phil pondered, beginning to pace around the logs and fallen trees still scattered around the clearing. 

They didn’t have any bases in the nether, did they? Wait… “Oh, the nether safehouse!” Phil exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Come on Bruce, I think I know where he is!” Phil turned around to where Bruce had been standing, only to find the spot conspicuously empty, no gargantuan hoglin in sight.

“Bruce?” Phil called out, frowning. He scanned the clearing once more but found no trace of the hoglin. “Hey, crows? Any sign of him?”

Bruce went that way, the one-eyed bird chirped eagerly, pointing its beak back the way they’d come from. 

Bad Bruce, the other crow added. Phil sighed, relieved. “Thanks, guys, what would I do without you?” 

Perish? The second bird suggested, and received a smack from the other crow. Phil chuckled at their antics. He really should give them names, though. He couldn’t just keep calling them ‘the half-blind one’ and ‘the other one’, that was pretty rude. He repeated his idea aloud, and the crows perked up, waiting eagerly. 

“How about Walter? Theo?” Phil suggested, starting to walk in the direction the crows had pointed him in. He knew–or hoped at least–that Bruce wouldn’t just leave without telling him, so he wasn’t too worried about that. 

I call dibs on Theo! The second crow declared, causing the half-blind one to squawk in outrage. 

I don’t want to be Walter, he complained sullenly. He had a dejected look on his face, and it made Phil feel bad enough that he decided to ignore the fact that they didn’t like the name he’d chosen.

“Well, you could always choose your own name…” Phil suggested. The half-blind crow brightened immediately, letting out a series of happy caws. He settled down for a moment, seemingly thinking, before straightening up again. 

My name, the crow declared dramatically, flinging out his wings for dramatic effect, is Obsidian. He looked a little silly, but Phil managed to hold in his laugh, not wanting to offend him. Theo was less successful, though. He let out a surprised squawk that devolved into crazed cackling. 

Before Theo could calm himself down, the other crow–Obsidian, had dived at him and tackled both of them off Phil’s shoulder. They smacked at each other with their wings for a few seconds, flapping around Phil’s head, before they settled back down on top of his hat. 

Obsidian is a great name, Obsidian insisted, better than Theo.  

No, Obsidian sounds stupid. Besides, Phil gave me my name. You always go on about ‘The Great Philza’ so I thought you’d – he was cut off before he could finish that sentence, though, because Obsidian tackled him and they were once again flapping around midair. Phil ignored them, though, because finally they’d caught up to Bruce. He’d recognise the hoglin’s huge form anywhere.

“Bruce! There you are!” Phil called, hurrying into the clearing. Bruce stood facing away from him, tensing slightly at Phil’s voice. He continued to walk slowly toward the edge of the clearing, gaze fixed on something just beyond the trees. Phil approached more carefully, trying to figure out what the hoglin was looking at. As he reached where Bruce was standing, he placed a hand on his shoulder, still trying to see what was going on. 

Bruce turned his head ever so slightly to look at him, and in that moment something burst out of the trees with a snarl.

Phil barely had time to register the attack before everything burst into motion. 

~ ~ ~

Technoblade’s eyes narrowed as a piglin brute burst from the treeline. He knew something had been following them, that was why he’d gone looking for it, so he’d been prepared to fight. Phil wasn’t. His friend took a step backwards, his foot catching on a stray root as he went down hard. 

Fighting a piglin as himself wouldn’t have been enough to make him even bat an eye, but as a hoglin who still had minimal control over his new body? And while protecting Phil? His heart quickened, adrenaline already pumping. That would be harder. And then, the cherry on top: he didn’t have Chat to watch his back, nor did he have Blood God to give him advice. Great. Just great. 

The piglin brute had its eyes locked on Phil, the outsider, not even batting an eye at Techno, a fellow nether mob. Well, that was its first mistake. Technoblade took a step to the side so he was protecting Phil’s body with his own. A growl instinctively rose from his chest, stopping the piglin in its tracks. It only faltered for a moment before charging again, axe raised at Techno this time. 

Technoblade raised his tusks to meet the blade, flinching only slightly at the axe being barely a hair away from his face. He shoved the blade to the side and darted forward with as much grace as possible for a thousand-pound hoglin. His hooves pounded the ground hard enough to shake the trees as he lunged. Luckily, he managed to catch the piglin off guard, who desperately squealed, trying to escape. Techno continued the charge and knocked his opponent to the ground, axe dropping to the side. 

For a second, Techno just stood over the piglin, nostrils flaring. He didn’t think he needed to kill it, since he knew it would be messy without a blade to end it quickly. Instead, he just stared down at the defeated piglin before stepping back to Phil again. The message was clear. Mess with him, and you mess with me. The piglin squeaked out what could’ve been an apology before scrambling away. 

Techno breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to Phil, who’s eyes were wide. Thank goodness he was okay, but come on Phil, how hadn’t he noticed the piglin watching them from the trees, blade at the ready? Maybe Techno’s sight was enhanced as a hoglin? There was no way to be sure, but it must’ve been something like that. 

Phil pushed himself to a standing position on shaky legs before his mother-hen instincts immediately kicked in and he stumbled over to Techno. 

“Are you okay, Bruce?”

Seriously? Phil was the one who’d almost been stabbed by a piglin. Techno had just fought it off. That man really was incapable of not being okay. He nodded his head anyways to answer Phil’s question.

“Prime, I need to put a lead on you or something, you can’t go wandering off on me like that!” Okay, excuse him. Techno had been protecting Phil from the piglin. It could have snuck up on them if he hadn’t scared it off. He just huffed in response. 

Phil’s crows squawked something at him and he burst out laughing. “The leash arc…” he guffawed, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “Jokes aside, though, that’s not an awful idea…” Techno watched in disbelief as Phil pulled out a rope and started to walk over to him. Was that a leash? The smile on Phil’s face told him that it was mostly a joke, but he really was going to try to leash him. Not on Technoblade’s watch.

Phil attempted to put the rope over Techno’s snout, but he just backed up so that it fell off again. He had already been named Bruce, he would not be put on a leash like a pet. Absolutely not. He was going to make this as hard for Phil as possible. 

Despite his best efforts, though, Phil did eventually manage to get the rope secure, and all the shaking in the world wouldn’t dislodge it. He missed his hands. Despite the humiliation of being leashed like a dog, it was pretty funny to watch Phil attempt to use it. Seriously, Techno had to be well over five times his weight, there was no way Phil had actually expected to be able to move him. 

After a moment of watching him struggle, Techno decided to mess with him a bit. He turned around and began to pull on the rope, and was surprised again by his own strength as he was able to easily drag Phil forward a bit. So easily, in fact, that he had to turn around to check that Phil was still holding the rope. He was, but Techno turning around gave the rope some slack, causing Phil, who was still pulling determinedly on the rope, to fall onto his face. 

Technoblade let out a surprised guffaw, and Phil sat up sputtering, face covered in red nether dirt. “Are you laughing at me?” Phil asked incredulously. Yes, indeed he was. Phil looked ridiculous, and he deserved to laugh at him after being leashed like some kind of dog. Speaking of the leash…

Now that Phil was no longer holding the rope, Techno simply stepped on the end of it and tugged his head in the opposite direction. It took a bit of pulling, but soon the rope was back on the ground. He gave Phil an evil eye, warning him as best he could that if he tried to put a leash on the great Technoblade again, there would be hell to pay. 

“Alright, no leash then!” Phil agreed, putting the rope away. Techno nodded in agreement. “Well, I think I know where Technoblade went. We have a nether safehouse not too far from here, so he could’ve gone there.” 

Of course they wouldn’t find Technoblade–he was right here, but of all the places in the nether, the nether safe house was probably the least dangerous of them. And he really didn’t want Phil to get hurt looking for him, so he just nodded his head and followed Phil out of the clearing. 

From the shadows, a figure silently watched them leave. The piglin he’d sent after them hadn’t been enough, unsurprisingly. Technoblade was growing too strong, even in his new form. He would need to step up his game to even contend with him. He crouched low as he traced their footprints, eyes glinting unnaturally green with magic and malice. Even like this, Technoblade was growing too strong. If brute force wouldn’t break him, he’d have to get creative. 

Soon they would regret what they’d done. All of them would. 

Once the pair were safely out of sight, the figure rose to his feet and summoned his magic. The air crackled with a power older than the nether itself as he weaved together a new challenge, crueler and cleverer than brute force. One that would, with luck, be the end of Technoblade.

Chapter Text

*Trigger Warnings contain spoilers! They’re in the end notes if you’d like to check them.*

The third time Phil had to stop for a break on the way to the nether safehouse, Bruce let out a concerned whine, cocking his head slightly. Phil chuckled and waved him off.

“I’m fine mate, just a little out of practice,” Phil said, shifting from foot to foot in an effort to alleviate the aches. “I haven’t travelled like this in a while.” 

He missed when he could fly across vast distances with the wind beneath his wings—now they just twitched uselessly on his back, more a reminder of what he couldn’t do than what he could. “I’m ready to keep going now.”

Bruce gave him a look before stepping into his way. A silent declaration of No, you’re not. And, yeah, he was right. Phil was not ready to keep going, but he couldn’t keep delaying their journey. 

Techno could be in danger right now, trapped or hurt, and he was selfishly resting. No way was he taking any more breaks than necessary. 

As Phil attempted to step around Bruce and start walking again, he found his path blocked once more. 

“Seriously, Bruce,” Phil groaned, “We have to get going!” 

Bruce huffed stubbornly, staying firmly in place. Phil stepped to the left. Bruce mirrored him instantly. A step to the right yielded the same result. 

“What do you want me to do?” Phil griped, exasperated. 

Bruce tilted his head, crouching slightly before looking at Phil expectantly. Phil just stared at him. What did he want? Was he asking—

“Are you asking me to ride you?” Phil asked incredulously. Bruce nodded vigorously, a wide grin forming on his face. 

Phil eyed the hoglin’s massive frame doubtfully. How was he supposed to get up there? After a moment's thought he backed up, took a running start and jumped as high as he could. 

He slammed into Bruce at full speed. The breath was knocked out of him, while Bruce—who was built like a brick wall—barely moved. Phil slid down Bruce’s side with a desperate scrabble, grabbing onto a tuft of fur to stop his fall. 

After a lot of shuffling, wing flapping, and a healthy dose of swearing, Phil was finally able to heave himself onto Bruce’s back.

He let out a celebratory whoop—and almost fell right back off. Phil gave a quick flap of his wings to rebalance himself before turning to Bruce.

Before he could say a word, though, Bruce darted forward and Phil slammed into his back with an oof . “Bruce! What was that for?” he demanded. 

The hoglin gave an unapologetic snort, then took off at a wild sprint.

Trees blurred past as they barreled through the forest. They were going fast , weaving through the bright red trees with a reckless abandon that made Phil’s heart pound in his chest. 

A baby hoglin stumbled across their path, and Phil yelped as Bruce continued to charge forward. Luckily, the little creature stumbled backwards just in time. 

Phil barely had time to sigh in relief before a crimson vine smacked him square in the face. Bruce guffawed at his misery as Phil sputtered violently in an attempt to rid his mouth of the awful rotten-egg taste. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of another vine heading his way, ducking just in time as it barely missed his face. Oh, come on. Bruce was definitely doing that on purpose. But just as he opened his mouth to give the hoglin a piece of his mind, another narrow miss from a tree branch forced him to focus on not falling off.

Suddenly, they burst from the treeline and Phil gasped. 

The muggy heat of the crimson forest was gone, replaced by the dusty, swirling wind of a soul sand valley. Gusts swirled around him, tugging at his hair and curling beneath his wings as if trying to coax him into flight. For a brief moment, Phil believed he could.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

Ever since his first day on the Dream SMP, his wings had been scarred forever. No amount of regeneration potions could fix them, and no amount of waiting would bring back the feeling of soaring through open sky.

Sometimes, a tiny part of him still whispered, You deserve it. You couldn’t save him, it’s only fair that you’re punished. Phil hated that part of himself, and he hated that he sometimes found himself agreeing with it. 

For a moment, though, Phil forgot he couldn’t fly. 

If he closed his eyes and spread his wings… He found himself grinning uncontrollably as the wind swelled beneath him, rendering him near weightless as he cut through the air like a knife. 

Phil let out a joyful laugh, ruined feathers forgotten as—in his mind—he soared through the sky once more. His wings cut through the air, hands brushing clouds like a boy reaching for the stars. 

The two travelled like that for a while: Phil soaring through imaginary skies as Bruce’s hooves pounded into the ground, crossing the distance to the nether safehouse in minutes. When they arrived, Phil was still wide-eyed with wonder at what he’d just experienced.

He didn’t think to question how the hoglin had known their destination—or maybe he was still too caught up in the feeling of wind swirling beneath his wings to care. 

~ ~ ~

“Huh. I guess Technoblade isn’t here after all,” Phil huffed, kicking an empty can of food to the side as it rolled across the path. Techno sighed from where he was peeking his head through the door. Of course he wasn’t in there, he was standing right outside!

Really, Phil was so oblivious that it was starting to get concerning. What more could he do to tell Phil it was him? He’d tried his best to communicate, shown drastically more intelligence than the average hoglin, and hadn’t even zombified in the overworld. 

Techno was pretty sure most people would’ve realised by this point, but this was Phil he was talking about here. Sweet, ignorant Phil who got attached quicker than a blink. It was no wonder he hadn’t connected the dots yet. Technoblade could only hope he would soon. 

“Come on, Bruce. I don’t know where to look now, but there’s no point in hanging around here.” Phil sighed, looking like a kicked puppy now that his last lead was gone. Well, Techno couldn’t have that. He gave Phil’s retreating back a nudge with his snout, and his friend turned back around. 

As soon as their eyes met, Techno bumped his head against Phil’s chest. Phil gave him a confused look, to which Techno responded with a shit-eating grin. When Phil just kept staring at him, Techno repeated the action.

“Are you trying to cheer me up?” Phil asked, finally giving a tiny smile. Techno nodded vigorously. “Aww, you’re so sweet, Bruce!” Phil said emphatically, giving him a pat on the snout. “Now come on, let’s go!” He turned around and started to walk back the way they’d come.

Nope, the old man was not going to be walking on his watch. In one swift motion, Techno used his snout to scoop Phil up, then straightened so that Phil slid down onto his back, chuckling at the gesture. “Aw, thanks, mate!” he exclaimed, wings flaring out in excitement. 

It was almost like he’d wanted another hoglin ride but hadn’t wanted to ask. Techno snorted. Now that he thought about it, that was exactly what it was. 

In all honesty, he enjoyed running as a hoglin nearly as much as Phil enjoyed riding him. Bounding through the empty terrain with a speed and ease he’d never felt as himself was pretty addictive. Plus, there was the added bonus that none of the nether monsters tried to bother him!

Not wanting to delay himself any longer, Techno took off like a shot, sprinting through the soul sand biome in the direction they’d come from. 

By the time the two friends were back in the crimson forest, Techno was panting loudly, and he slowed to a stop so he could catch his breath. He’d really pushed himself, running as fast as he could to test his limits. 

As it turned out, they were pretty high, since he’d ran the entire way back in only five minutes while Phil clung onto his back for dear life. Phil grinned at his frantic breaths.

“Are you tired, Bruce?” Techno nodded in between breaths and Phil threw his head back to laugh at him. “You didn’t have to run that fast!” Suddenly, Phil’s head snapped toward a cluster of trees and Techno followed his gaze with curiosity. 

Phil leaned forward to whisper in Techno’s ear, “Did you hear that? There’s someone there.” Techno cocked his head in the direction Phil had pointed, and—yep. There was definitely someone there. 

A quiet rustling sound was coming from behind the trees, but it sounded wrong . It sounded unnatural, and Techno took a cautious step towards it as Phil slid off his back, drawing his sword. 

“Is there someone there?” Phil asked hesitantly, falling into a fighting stance as he waited for a response. The rustling stopped, and a moment passed before a figure stepped into the clearing. 

“Tommy?” Phil asked incredulously, lowering his sword as the teenager stepped into the light. Tommy gave him a blank look, before his gaze slipped to Techno and hardened, just for a moment, before it fell back into blankness. 

“Philza,” he said, his voice so monotone it could rival Technoblade’s. “Fancy seeing you here.” Phil frowned.

“Tommy, what’s wrong? What are you doing out here?” he asked, concern softening his voice. Tommy just stared at him. Techno found himself involuntarily shivering. Why was Tommy acting like this? 

Tommy was the server’s resident sunshine child, bright and loud. Although recently he’d been more subdued and quiet, he was still mischievous and cheerful. Techno had never seen him so terrifyingly… Blank.  

“Philza, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from that hoglin,” Tommy said, and finally there was some emotion in his voice, although it was nothing positive. There was a sharp undertone to the seemingly normal words, like a dagger hidden just beneath the surface. Phil’s brows furrowed. 

“Tommy, this hoglin isn’t hostile. His name is Bruce, and he’s—” Phil began, before he was cut off.

“No.”

“No?”

“His name is not Bruce,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly. Of course it wasn’t, his name was Technoblade, but Tommy shouldn’t know that. How did he know that? Techno huffed and took a step closer to Phil, not liking the way Tommy’s gaze was slowly growing more hostile. 

“Yes, it is. I named him,” Phil said slowly. “Tommy, what’s going on?”

“You’re not going to step away?” Tommy demanded.

“No. I—” Before either Phil or Techno could react, Tommy was darting forward, sword in hand as he charged at Phil. Phil barely had time to lift his sword, meeting Tommy’s with a clash of metal on metal. 

Phil was off-balance from the unexpected attack, though. Taking advantage of the moment of weakness, Tommy flicked his sword beneath Phil’s guard. Techno’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Tommy use the momentum to yank the blade out of Phil’s hands in one smooth movement.

This wasn’t right. Tommy wasn’t supposed to know how to fight well enough to rival a fighter as experienced as Philza. Tommy fought with rash impulsiveness, darting in and out of the battle. 

He didn’t fight his opponent head-on, matching their strength and anticipating their every action. He didn’t know how to disarm people that well, with calculated strikes and strategic moves. This couldn’t be Tommy. 

Phil’s eyes were wide as his sword was flicked from his grip to the opposite side of the clearing. Now, he was weaponless as Tommy pointed his blade at his chest. 

“Stay out of this, Philza. I have no reason to kill you,” Tommy declared. “Yet.” With that, he delivered a swift kick to Phil’s chest, launching him backwards into a tree. Phil slammed into the tree with a crack, his body crumpling. He gasped, wings twitching as he coughed wetly. Techno was still frozen in place, not having expected Tommy to attack Phil, and definitely not having expected him to win.

Then, Tommy turned to face Techno with a terrifyingly blank stare. 

There was a moment of stillness as the two watched each other. 

Then, Tommy darted forward again, like he had with Phil. This time, Techno anticipated it, and he stopped the sword with one of his tusks. He grunted with the effort of staying in place, while Tommy stayed silent, not an ounce of effort showing on his face. 

“You,” Tommy gritted out, pressing harder on his sword, “must die.” Well, that was direct. Techno almost laughed despite himself. The situation he found himself in was in no way funny: Phil was leaning against a tree, barely able to breathe, while Techno—still a hoglin—was forced to fight against an emotionless Psycho-Tommy. It was just hilarious. Comedy gold, really. 

Techno gave Tommy a harsh snarl in response. It translated to “Yeah, fucking right,” with a healthy dollop of sarcasm, but Tommy didn’t know that. “Technoblade never dies, remember?” Techno added, just for the sake of it, although it was obviously unintelligible. 

“Just give up now,” Tommy insisted. “This is your last chance.” Techno huffed, pushing back with renewed vigour. Like hell he was going to just give in and let this nightmare-Tommy win. Absolutely not. 

After it was clear that Techno wasn’t going to stand down, Tommy leaned in and hissed, “I warned you, Technoblade.” Techno flinched. What the fuck . Tommy wasn’t supposed to know that! Even Phil couldn’t figure it out when Techno had practically handed him the answer on a silver platter!

Tommy, noticing his surprise, continued in a harsh whisper, “Oh, yes, I know all about you, Blade. I know that you’re supposedly unkillable. I know that you think yourself to be above governments.” Tommy paused, presumably for effect, before an unnatural smile crawled up his face.

“I know you can never protect the people you love,” Tommy hissed, and Techno took a surprised step back. Each word was like a dagger twisting in his heart, spat with a venom he’d never heard from the teen before. “After all, aren’t I a prime example?” 

No, that was wrong! Techno protected his family, and he always would. He’d tried to protect Tommy too, but the kid had betrayed him. That wasn’t his fault!

Tommy’s smile widened, flashing teeth in a feral grin. “And it’s going to happen again. Just look at Philza!” Without thinking, Techno glanced at Phil. He was propped against a tree, taking deep breaths as he struggled to sit up—hurt, but alive.

Techno whipped his head back just in time to see Tommy dart forward. His sword slipped beneath Techno’s tusk with a practiced flick, and he spun as he ducked out of reach. The move was too fast to block, too fast to even flinch away. 

There was a wet, sickening squelch. A sharp spike of pain. 

Oh. He had been stabbed. Techno blinked at the sword buried deep in his side, all the way up to the hilt. That should’ve hurt. There should’ve been fire lancing through his veins, burning agony in his muscles. Instead, there was only a terrifying numbness spreading through his body. 

Tommy yanked the blade free with a jerk and a vicious grin. Techno felt himself crumple—like a puppet with its strings cut. “Technoblade never dies, huh?” Tommy gloated, sheathing his still-bloody sword with a wet shk.  

Tommy turned away, leaving Techno bleeding on the ground, red dirt turning redder beneath him. Unable to move his head, Techno was forced to watch as he was betrayed yet again, as the boy he’d once thought of as a friend—no, a brother—left him to bleed out on the floor.

Techno couldn’t feel his chest. He couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t feel the ground beneath him. He was floating…

Some part of him thought the fast-spreading numbness should’ve been concerning, but Techno’s thoughts were slowing, emotionless and unconcerned. He couldn’t bring himself to feel much of anything at the moment. 

Techno knew he should be forcing himself up. He should be fighting until his last breath. He should be doing something, but he could barely even keep his eyes open. 

In fact, his eyes were already starting to slip closed. No, he couldn’t fall asleep! Techno fought for awareness, forcing them back open. He had to stay alive. For Phil. For himself. 

If he died here, Phil would never know who he really was. Techno’s life would be over, snuffed out by the boy he’d once seen as a little brother.

Even as Techno tried to keep his eyes open, consciousness slipped like sand through his fingers. Each breath was shallower than the last as darkness creeped into the edges of his vision.

He was so tired . His eyes slipped closed as the world spiralled away from him. He was underwater; sounds muffled, sensations felt at a distance. 

Someone was calling for him. Phil. 

Techno wanted to open his eyes for him, but his time was up. As he slipped into the waiting void, his last thought wasn’t of himself. It was of Phil, calling out to him with the wrong name. Then, Technoblade was gone.

Chapter Text

*Trigger Warnings contain spoilers, so they’re in the end notes again.*

Phil took quick, labored breaths, struggling to steady himself. Tommy had slammed him into that tree hard. Much harder than any 17-year-old should’ve been able to. Finally, Phil managed to clear his vision, blinking the dizziness away. 

He looked up just in time to watch the sword sink into Bruce’s side. 

Phil gasped, his heart dropping like a stone. Tommy gave a sick, hollow grin as he yanked the sword out. The hoglin dropped to the floor, legs giving out beneath him as his eyes closed. 

Before Phil could even form a conscious thought, he was on his feet, sword in hand. He darted forwards, thrusting his sword at Tommy’s retreating back. Wilbur’s younger brother be damned, Tommy had just stabbed Bruce. 

Phil hadn’t actually been expecting his sword to make contact, but it did. It slipped into Tommy’s back with a wet thunk , and Phil’s heart sank. What was he doing? Tommy was on his last life! Phil dropped his sword, horrified, and it stayed stuck in Tommy’s chest.

Before Phil could fully process what he’d just done, Tommy looked over his shoulder with a flat, unbothered expression—like the sword in his chest was an inconvenience, not a death sentence. 

“Really, Phil?” Tommy sighed. “Well, this has been fun.” He gave a lazy two-fingered salute. “I’ll be seeing you.” 

Then, all at once, Tommy’s pink cheeks and blonde hair lost its colour, becoming desaturated and grey. What was happening? Was he dying?

Then, Phil realised with a start that he could see the trees through Tommy’s chest . With every moment that passed, Tommy became more and more transparent until it was like he’d never been there at all. 

With a final gust of wind, he was gone. Phil’s sword fell to the ground with a clatter. Thoughts collided in his head, struggling to form conclusions where there weren’t any. 

Tommy couldn’t be dead, right? He wouldn’t have looked so unbothered if he was dying. But if he hadn’t died, then how had he just disappeared? There was a stuttering huff from the hoglin to his left, and Phil yanked himself back into the moment. 

He was at Bruce’s side instantly, eyes surveying the wound. He’d seen his fair share of injuries, both from his time in the army, and afterward. He could tell whether or not an injury was serious. 

Phil’s heart seized. That wound—it was too deep. There was too much blood. It was fatal. He didn’t need to know hoglin biology to know that the blade had hit something vital.

Dully, Phil realised that he was kneeling in a puddle of Bruce’s blood. It soaked into his cloak. The warmth, the colour, the smell—

Suddenly, he was back there again.  

Sitting in a pool of blood. Watching helplessly as someone dear to him passed on. Helpless. Completely, utterly helpless. The bloodstains hadn’t come out for weeks, and the scars it had left on his mind still weren’t gone. 

It was happening again, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Phil doubled over, hands slipping in blood as he clutched at the ground, breaths ragged. This was all his fault. He couldn’t even hold his own against a 17-year-old .

Bruce gave another rattling inhale and Phil yanked himself back to the present. He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. He could help. Surely he had some healing potions. 

Phil yanked off his satchel, uncaring of the way it splashed into the blood. He dug through it frantically, hands shaking as he checked the label of each potion. No, not strength, not swiftness, not invisibility…

No , there was no way. He had to have healing potions. He always did. And yet, the one time it really mattered, they were nowhere to be found. With panicked fervour, Phil dumped the contents of the bag to the floor. His eyes roved the pile of items, but it was undeniable now. 

He had nothing he could use to help Bruce. He was useless. Again. 

Phil looked up to meet Bruce’s eyes, an apology on his lips, only to watch as his eyes flickered closed. 

“Bruce!” He cried out, tears streaming from his eyes as he desperately shook the hoglin’s limp form. “Please, Bruce! Don’t do this to me!” 

Bruce was still. Phil placed an unsteady, blood-covered hand on Bruce’s neck. There was a stuttering thump beneath the skin, then a second one. Phil waited for the third, but it never came. 

No. No! Phil pressed harder, searching for a pulse. There was none to be found. He pulled his hand away, trembling. A bloody handprint marked the still-warm skin, and he sobbed again, vision blurring with tears. 

Bruce was dead. Gone. 

Bruce was crossing over. He was in the realm of the dead now. Phil bit his cheek—hard. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. 

Then, it hit him. Dead. Bruce was passing over to death’s realm . There was one last thing he could try. 

It hadn’t worked last time. Wilbur had been unwilling, no matter how much Phil had pleaded with the limp body in his arms. 

But this time it would be different. It had to be. 

“Kristin!” Phil called, voice raw and desperate. “Goddess of death! I call on you!” He waited, muscles tense as his shout echoed off the trees around him. There was a moment of silence, then a voice spoke in his mind, soft and otherworldly. 

“Phil?”

Phil breathed a sigh of relief. “Kristin, I—” His voice broke, and he choked back another sob. 

“ Phil? What’s wrong? ”

Phil pulled himself together. This wasn’t the time to break down. He needed to act fast. “Kristin, I need help. Please, can you save Bruce?” 

He knew he sounded desperate, and he wasn’t fully sure why—he’d only met Bruce yesterday, and yet something deep in his chest mourned him like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

Phil couldn’t just let him die. It felt wrong in a way he couldn’t even begin to describe. Like it would break something he’d never be able to fix. 

Kristin paused for a moment, seeming hesitant. “Phil—” Then, she gave a soft, breathy laugh. “Oh, Phil,” she murmured. “His soul…it’s been tampered with.” Phil’s heart sank even further. 

“Please, Kristin. Can you help him?” he begged, rubbing tears from his eyes with blood-stained hands, giving a humorless laugh as they left his face wet with blood.

“Of course I can. Just know…” She paused, as if uncertain. “The one you call ‘Bruce’ wears a borrowed name.” 

“I don’t care. Whoever he used to be, whoever he is now—he matters to me.” He poured as much emotion as possible into the words. “Please.”

Phil could almost see her nodding solemnly. “Of course,” she whispered, “I’ll speak with him.”

~ ~ ~

Technoblade woke to the sound of wind. Not screaming. Not swords clashing. Just soft, dry wind, brushing over cracked earth and rusted metal. Techno blinked, sitting up from the cold ground. 

Around him was an endless field, dry and lifeless. Not a single living thing stirred—there was nothing but brittle, brown grass, dry as bone. No animals, no plants, no one but him for miles. 

A dull fog clung to the ground, curling around the cracked shields and shattered swords scattered across the field. Bloodstains, brown and long-dried, patterned the earth like old paint. Technoblade was in a battlefield. Of course.

The sky above was a dull, colourless grey. There were no clouds, no sun, and no moon. Just an empty, flat stretch of grey. The air was still, not a breath of wind. 

The whole area was undeniably dead, despite the distinct lack of bodies. 

“...Huh,” Techno said, his voice rasping like it hadn’t been used in years. 

Gravel crunched beneath Techno’s feet as he heaved himself up with difficulty. Some part of him wanted to sink back down to all fours, and as he straightened up, he wobbled and almost fell.

Techno looked down at himself, confused. He was just the same as it always had been, and yet something felt different. He was off balance, like his body was attempting to compensate for a weight that was no longer there. 

He held his hands up in front of his eyes, and somehow that seemed to cement it. Something had changed. 

Then, all the memories came rushing back. Becoming a hoglin, finding Phil, travelling in the nether, meeting Tommy, and…dying?

Was Technoblade dead? That would explain where he was right now. He’d heard that while Tommy was dead, he’d been stuck in an empty void, and Wilbur was stuck in a train station. He supposed it was only fitting that Technoblade, the legendary warrior, had found his final resting place in a battlefield.

He wasn’t about to take this sitting down, though. After taking a few careful steps to readjust to being human again, Techno marched forward with a determined glint in his eye. He wasn’t just going to sit here. He refused to accept that he’d died. 

‘ Technoblade never dies ’ was literally his catchphrase, and it was time for him to prove it was true. He picked up a sword, examining the dried blood crusted along the cracked blade like a layer of paint. It would do. 

He chose a direction and started walking, sword in hand. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, or even what he was hoping to find.

What was the sword for? Was he trying to fight God? If that’s what it took, he would. Or maybe he carried it because the weight just felt right—because even after everything, he still didn’t know how to exist without a weapon in his hand.

A soft chuckle broke the silence from behind him, and Techno spun around, sword at the ready. 

“You won’t be needing that, Technoblade,” a woman said gently, pressing a single finger to the blade and lowering it with ease.

She was tall and tan, wearing a black dress with purple trim. Great black wings stretched from her back, identical to Phil’s but for the glowing white dots speckled across them like stars in the night sky. Her face was obscured by a veil, but Techno could make out dark brown curls, and kind, purple eyes behind it. 

“Who are you?” Techno demanded, raising his sword again. The woman snickered as though he’d told a funny joke and Techno narrowed his eyes. 

If she weren’t literally the only person for miles, he would…well, he didn’t think he’d stab her, but he wouldn’t be inclined to trust her. As it was, though, he needed answers, and she was the only one here to give them. 

“I am Lady Death,” the woman said softly. 

Oh shit. Techno had just pointed a sword at a literal goddess. He dropped it instantly, dropping to one knee in a bow. Lady Death chuckled again. “Oh, there’s no need for that, Technoblade.”

Techno stood up slowly, meeting her eyes beneath the veil. They were crinkled fondly, hopefully meaning that he hadn’t disrespected her. 

“I am Lady Death,” she continued, “but you may know me as Kristin.” Techno’s jaw dropped. 

“Kristin? Kristin, as in Phil’s wife?” he demanded. 

She grinned and gave a mock bow. “The one and only.” As she stood up, she swept off her hat with a flourish. Without it, she looked a lot more human and a lot more like the Kristin that Phil had described.

Techno relaxed slightly. What Phil had told him about Kristin seemed to line up with Lady Death, apart from the wings and the whole goddess thing. At least now he knew she wasn’t going to smite him or something. He was still confused, though.

“How the fuck is Phil married to a goddess?”

“It’s…complicated,” Kristin explained, not bothering to elaborate. “Now, you’re probably wondering where you are.”

Techno looked around, taking in the empty battlefield again. “Well, it’s my limbo, right?” Kristin seemed mildly surprised. 

“Correct. This is your limbo. Meaning…” She paused, looking at him as if to gauge his reaction. “You’re dead.”

“Yep,” Techno replied, popping the ‘p’. “It appears so.” 

Kristin gave him a look of disbelief before bursting into laughter again. Her laugh was like the ringing of wedding bells, melodic and beautiful. It made Techno want to join in, but he stopped himself. “Look, sarcasm is my coping method, okay?” he justified, and she just laughed harder. 

How could a woman so happy and full of life possibly be Lady Death? Techno would’ve asked, but Kristin managed to pull herself together before he could, a fond smile lighting up her face. 

“I can see why Phil likes you,” she said with a grin, before her face hardened. “Now, to business. You were the hoglin Phil calls ‘Bruce’, correct?” Techno nodded.

“Do you have any idea how you came to be trapped in that form?” she asked, cocking her head slightly to the side. The movement was reminiscent of the crows that followed Phil—and apparently Kristin around. 

“No,” Techno said simply. He felt the irrational urge to add the word “ma’am’ to the end, but he resisted. 

“Well, it was the work of a God meddling in matters that were not his concern,” Kristin explained, a murderous look coming over her face. Techno was immeasurably glad that it wasn’t directed at him. 

“I will speak with him, but there will likely not be much I can do. Technically, he operated within all our rules.” 

“Who was it?” Techno asked, jaw clenched. He needed to know who had caused him all that pain. Kristin grimaced. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you, or I would be meddling just as badly as he did. The best I can do is right his wrong,” she said, a melancholy smile coming over her face. “So, that’s why I’m asking this question: Do you want to be alive again?” 

Techno froze, eyes widening. No way—it couldn’t be that easy. He had been prepared to battle gods, bargain and negotiate, fight tooth and nail just to get back to Phil. And Kristin was just going to hand it to him on a silver platter? The best response he could manage was a quiet, “Why?”

“Well, if it wasn’t for the interference of a particular god, you would still be alive. Therefore, I can revive you to right his wrong,” Kristin explained. 

“Although, if you’d died for another reason, I would’ve been willing to bend the rules. You are Phil’s best friend, after all,” Kristin added with a wink. “That counts for more than you’d think.”

Techno took a deep breath. He could do this. He wasn’t dead yet. “Yes. Please, take me back.” 

Kristin grinned as a deep purple aura lit up her hands. “I thought you would say that.” Her very being seemed to glow with magic. It swirled around her wings, shone beneath her skin, and sparkled in her eyes. Techno squared his shoulders and clenched his fists, bracing himself for whatever came next. 

Kristin brought her hands together in front of her chest, then paused as a smile crept up her face. “Say hi to Phil for me,” she said, smiling softly. Then, she opened her hands and pushed.

A burst of purple light swallowed Techno whole—and just like that, the battlefield was empty once more. 

~ ~ ~

Phil sniffled, struggling to keep himself from flat-out sobbing again. He cradled Bruce’s head in his lap, petting his fur gently as he waited for Kristin to work her magic. Logically, he knew Bruce should be fine now, but logic didn’t stop the ache in his chest. 

What if Bruce didn’t want to come back? What if he was happy wherever he was now? 

No. Phil shook his head vigorously. He couldn’t get caught up in spiralling again. He needed to be there when Bruce woke up again. Because Bruce would wake up. 

Phil’s wings twitched as he reached for Bruce’s neck, checking for a pulse once again. He felt something beneath his fingers, and he desperately pressed harder, searching for the heartbeat. Then…nothing. 

Phil slumped against Bruce’s limp body, uncaring of the blood that covered both of them.

Thump.  

Phil sat bolt upright, pressing his fingers into Bruce’s neck again, begging the universe to let him feel a heartbeat.

Thump .

There it was. Bruce’s heartbeat.

Thump.

Then, Bruce’s eyes cracked open. Instantly, they locked onto Phil, hazy but focused. Before he could react, a loud hiss tore through the silence. 

Smoke burst from Bruce’s body in a wave, thick and choking. Phil coughed, waving a hand in front of his face as he struggled to see.

Beneath his palm, Bruce’s form was shifting. The shape under his hand was…smaller. Smoother. Phil could only make out a silhouette through the smoke, but even that was changing.

Bruce’s fur was receding, his snout shrinking. His limbs shortened, his bones shifted. 

“Bruce?” Phil gasped, but he could already feel it—the rough hide giving way to skin. Fingers twitched in the dirt where hooves had been before. 

Whoever this was, they weren’t Bruce anymore. 

Finally, the smoke began to clear.

A figure lay crumpled in the bloodstained nether grass. They were human. Pale. Pink hair, tangled and matted with blood. Phil stared, breath catching in his throat. 

He gasped. “Techno?!” 

He scrambled forward, cradling the figure in his arms. He pressed his ear up against Techno’s chest, heart stuttering.

Thump. 

There it was. A heartbeat. He was alive.

Phil let out a broken, disbelieving laugh as Techno cracked open one bloodshot eye.

“Ow,” Techno rasped.

Phil choked on his laugh, sobbing. “You absolute bastard , you’re alive.”

Techno managed a crooked grin. “Technoblade never dies, remember?” Then, he winced, clutching his ribs. 

Phil chuckled again, breathy and relieved, as he ran his hands over Techno’s unblemished chest. Kristin’s magic had done it’s job. It had saved him. Phil wiped the dirt and gore from Techno’s face, only to pause. 

Stark against the bubblegum pink, a streak of pure white ran through Techno’s hair. The undeniable mark of a revival. 

Well, shit. It looked like Technoblade had died. 

Phil swallowed hard, emotions threatening to overtake him again. He scrubbed vigorously at his damp eyes. No, not now. They could talk later. 

Finally, his brain managed to put the facts together. “Wait,” he said slowly. “You were Bruce the whole time?” 

Techno’s grin widened despite the pain, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Oh Phil, you poor, senile old man. Yes .” He paused. “Kristin says hi, by the way.” 

Phil opted to ignore the ‘old man’ comment—Techno had literally just died, after all. Looking back now, a lot of things made sense. The hoglin's uncanny intelligence, inability to walk, and the way he hadn’t zombified in the overworld… How hadn’t Phil realised sooner? 

Then again…maybe some part of him had known all along. Maybe that was why losing Bruce had broken him so deeply. Because deep down, he knew.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Techno was here. His best friend was back .

“Don’t you dare do anything like that ever again,” Phil reprimanded, voice firm despite the crack in it. Techno nodded, quiet for once. 

Phil took a long breath, then pulled him in closer.

“Come on, Techno. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

“Shit!” Philza yelled, followed by a metallic crash and a sharp clatter of pans that echoed through the house. Techno jumped up from the couch, wincing at the sharp ache in his stomach. He’d barely taken a step towards the kitchen when Phil stuck his head out with a glare that could level mountains. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Techno slowly lowered himself back down to the couch. Phil gave a self-satisfied nod before disappearing into the kitchen again. 

Techno sighed. Phil was really going over the top with the whole “resting” thing—hovering, glaring, and outright banning Techno from doing anything.

It was driving him insane. 

And it wasn’t even like he was injured! Sure, he’d just spent two days as a hoglin, and maybe he’d gotten a little bit stabbed, but physically? He was fine. A little phantom pain, sure, but not enough to justify being mother-henned over like he’d died or something!

Well…Okay, technically , he had died. 

Techno pulled his white streak down in front of his eyes and huffed dramatically at the sight of it. That was going to be fun to explain—he still had three lives, but now he looked like he’d lost all of them. 

A crow chirped, landed on his head, and started burrowing into his unbraided hair. Techno huffed again but didn’t bother to shoo it away.

He supposed the white streak didn’t really matter. Not like he was going to be seeing anyone anytime soon, anyway. Just Ranboo and Phil. The other server members didn’t want to see him, especially not after he’d helped blow up their country. Again.

He didn’t blame them for hating him. It was an understandable grievance to have. What he did have a problem with was that, in their eyes, he was basically kill on sight. 

Whatever. He could handle himself. 

That didn’t mean he had the patience for everything, though. 

He was mere seconds away from yeeting the crow on his head—now squawking out a tone-deaf rendition of Pigstep—when Phil walked in with a tray of food.

“So, how’re you feeling, Techno?” Phil asked gently, setting the tray in Techno’s lap. A bowl of warm potato soup, a few slices of fresh sourdough bread, and a glass of water. Techno’s mouth watered. Phil knew him—and his tastes—far too well.

“I’m fine. Same as yesterday,” Techno muttered, a fond undertone creeping through the sarcastic remark. As much as he grumbled about Phil’s overprotectiveness, it was sweet. To know that Phil cared. 

Phil groaned. “Techno, you died. ” 

“Eh. I’m fine.”

“ Techno. ” Techno shrugged, busying himself with blowing on a spoonful of soup, pretending not to hear. 

Phil was still looking at him expectantly. “This is some good soup,” he offered, sipping on another spoonful. Phil sighed and pinched his nose, but Techno could see the smile creeping up his face. 

CHAT HE’S EATING?

Soup arc???

He’s just like me fr fr

[MOD MESSAGE]: Soup slander = permaban

Techno massaged his temples. He was glad to have his chat back—loath as he was to admit it, he’d missed them—but they seriously needed to calm down. They were giving him a migraine. 

CAN I GET A “POOR TECHNOBLADE” IN CHAT

Guys shut up you’re giving him a headache >:(

“Need some numbing potion?” Phil asked, head tilted in concern. 

Techno nodded vigorously, and Phil headed off to get some. Whether it would numb his blooming headache or for the phantom pains still lingering in his stomach, it didn’t matter. Either way, it would help.

Phil returned with a bottle of murky, maroon-coloured liquid, popping off the cork himself. Like Techno couldn’t open a bottle on his own. As soon as Phil handed it to him, he knocked it back—no time for second-guessing. 

Techno shuddered as the thick liquid made its way down his throat. Ugh. It was sickly sweet, enough to make him gag as he gulped it down, with a rancid, rotten aftertaste. He followed it up with a glass of water and the rest of the soup, but the taste still lingered.

Almost immediately, a calming numbness rushed through his body. Techno slumped in relief. 

Numbness potion was a special creation of his and Phil’s. Most people used a weakness potion to dull pain or numb a wound before stitches, but they were far from perfect. They left you groggy, defenseless, and not to mention it could slow healing.

So, they started experimenting. After a few painful mishaps, they discovered that a 50-50 blend of healing and weakness worked wonders. The weakness dulled the pain, while the healing effect cancelling out the grogginess. Perfect. 

Well, it would’ve been if it wasn’t lumpy, thick, and tasted like the worst parts of both potions. But the effects were worth it.

“Better?” Phil asked, already reaching out to take the empty bottle. Techno nodded. Actually, the dose of healing might’ve been a little low in this batch. He was starting to feel weirdly groggy. 

“I migh’ take a nap…” Techno slurred. Huh. Maybe he was more tired than he’d thought.

Phil grinned, way too smug for someone who’d just handed over soup and potions. Techno suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that Phil had deliberately changed the ratio. Overprotective bastard. 

“Of course. I’m going to head out and feed the animals,” Phil said, heading out the door.

Techno gave an affirmative hum in response. He was already half asleep, the world blurring around the edges as his eyes slipped closed. He’d yell at Phil for meddling with the potion later. 

Techno drifted off to sleep, and outside, the forest watched. 

~ ~ ~

A man stood in the shadow of a tree, sharpening his sword. Annoyance was written in the squint of his eyes and the twist of his mouth. The disciple could feel his master’s presence pressing in, and he took a deep breath to ready himself.

“Sa hylqoqag .”

“Yes, I know he survived,” he replied, all forced calmness and saccharine sweetness. 

“Ela uiy hyla csoh pehm’c uiyl wlaballag iyctina? ” One of the man’s eyes twitched, the first crack in his composure. “Csa cpi ib uiy pala triha, pala uiy mic? ” At those words, something inside him snapped. When he spoke again, it was through gritted teeth.

“We’re not close . He betrayed me,” he hissed, jamming the sword back into its sheath. “I want revenge. I want him dead. And he would be dead if it weren’t for your bullshit ‘no interfering’ rule. You’re so obsessed with rules, you forget what power’s even for!”

“O’qa azwreomag csoh. Pa nyhc iwaleca pocsom Csa Lyrah ob pa pohs ci hyttaag. O en mi nects bil err nu hofromdh ec imta." The man scowled. 

They’d had this conversation before. Over and over. No matter how many lectures he got about ‘The Rules’, he still hated them. They were keeping him from getting even with Technoblade. If he weren’t bound by oath to follow his god’s orders, he would’ve broken them by now. 

“Pa nyhc claeg ahwatoerru telabyrru mip csec pa’la gaeromd pocs Wsorxe. Csa Diggahh ib Gaecs seh e hibc hwic bil son. Ob pa— ” The crunching of leaves echoed through the silent clearing, and the man brought a hand to his lips, while the other conjured up an illusion to distract their target. 

The god had gone silent in his mind, surely sensing the presence, too.

“Philza has arrived,” he whispered, a broken smile twisting its way up his face. 

~ ~ ~

Phil smiled fondly as he tucked a blanket over Techno’s sleeping form. He felt a little bad for spiking the numbing potion with extra weakness, but Techno seemed adamant about refusing rest—to the point that the only way to get him to sleep was to force him. 

Techno had literally died . How was he so unbothered about it?

Phil stepped outside, shutting the door gently behind him. He shivered, pulling his coat tighter around him. Even though it wasn’t snowing and the sun was still about an hour from dipping below the horizon, it was cold. That was the problem with living in an arctic biome. 

On the plus side, the fact that it was borderline uninhabitable kept away unwanted visitors.

Phil grabbed the sack of feed propped against the wall and made his way over to the animal pens. He dumped a generous amount into each trough, hands moving on autopilot, before heading onto the next one. 

He was humming a tune by the time he made his way around to the polar bear pen, but he stopped in his tracks when he rounded the corner. Instead of the three polar bears there should’ve been, there was only one. 

Two sets of tracks led away from the open pen gate. 

Shit. 

Phil immediately shut the gate, locking the remaining bear back inside. He double-checked the lock, making sure it was secure this time, before jogging off in the direction of the footprints.

His breath was fogging up in huge white clouds as Phil entered the forest, eyes fixed on the trail. Maybe he should’ve been paying a bit more attention to his surroundings, especially as the evening grew darker and darker, but there was no time for caution. He had to find the polar bears before night fell or he might never get them back. 

The air shifted as he passed deeper into the forest. Cold and still, but…off. Phil breathed in. The taste of metal clung to the back of his throat, sharp and unnatural, like the air before a thunderstorm. 

He stopped in his tracks, heart skipping a beat. Magic. Old, powerful magic. Something was wrong. He took off again, faster than before, wings boosting him forward with each step.

Finally, Phil burst into a clearing, panting. He paused for a second to catch his breath, and looked up to catch sight of two huge fluffy bears. There they were. 

As soon as he took a step towards them, their heads snapped to him and he froze, unnerved. Then, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, strong enough to cause all the trees to sway violently. It was too strong. Unnaturally strong.

Phil shut his eyes and slapped a hand down on his hat to keep it from flying away. 

He opened his eyes—and froze. The clearing was empty. Where had the polar bears gone? 

They were usually slow and lumbering, wandering around with little to no concern about their surroundings. They couldn’t have possibly gotten out of sight in the ten seconds he’d had his eyes closed. 

Phil scanned the clearing again, heart pounding. Please let them still be there. 

Then—a flash of movement. Just at the corner of his vision. 

The swish of a cloak from behind a tree on the edge of the clearing. 

Phil whipped towards the intruder, hands already reaching to draw his sword. The metallic tang hit him again, stronger this time. 

Before he could do anything, a blindingly bright flash of green erupted from the treeline.  

Phil gasped, buckling to his knees as a wave of agony coursed through his body. The snow bit into the bare skin of his legs, but he barely felt it over the fire that tore through his chest. 

He tried to scream, to call for help, but his breath caught in his throat. 

Fire lanced down his spine, white-hot and electric. Phil’s vision tilted and warped, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

It devoured him from the inside out, stabbing at his chest and burning through his veins. With each heartbeat came a new kind of agony. There was no room to think. Only to endure. 

His hands dug into the snow, clutching uselessly at nothing. The pain climbed higher up his body, and every inch of his skin burned.  

His arms twisted with a wet snap and Phil choked on his breath as he went down—hard. There was a sound like splintering wood as his bones popped, twisting and breaking. A scream ripped itself free from his throat, raw and desperate. 

The pain shot through his skull like a bell struck too hard, rattling every thought loose. 

His heartbeat slammed in his ears. The world spun around him. Then it dropped. 

Phil was freefalling through open air—impossibly—as his hands pressed into the snow.

Air screamed past his ears, but the ground was solid beneath him. 

Finally, he slammed back into his body, but it was wrong . The world felt too small. Crooked. 

His eyes snapped open, but all he could see was the snowy ground beneath him, speckled with his own midnight-black feathers. 

His whole body was heavy, and his breaths squeezed through his too-tight chest. He gasped for air, but he couldn’t get enough. He choked on nothing, trying desperately to breathe, but black spots were already dotting the edges of his eyes. 

The blackness spread across his vision as he gagged on empty lungs. Phil’s eyes fluttered closed, and he slumped against the floor.

He freefell into the blackness. 

The forest vanished. 

The agony stopped. 

The world went still.

Chapter Text

“Technoblade.”

Techno’s eyes shot open, and he was on his feet and off the couch before he could even process what had woken him up. He whipped his head left and right, looking for the source of the noise. The cabin was empty, not a soul in sight. 

Tentatively, he asked, “Blood God?” 

“You are needed.” The voice echoed through his skull, threading itself through his thoughts with the authority of something ancient and deeply unimpressed. Techno rubbed at his temple, groaning. 

“Needed for what?” Techno asked, already across the room, reaching for his gear. “Did something happen?” There was a long pause, heavy with meaning but no real answers. 

“The winged one falls.” 

“...Phil?” 

As though summoned by his friend’s name, chat suddenly exploded with distressed voices. They were as random as usual, but mostly they were crying for Techno to save Phil. 

“He is not as he was.”

Techno froze halfway through fastening his cloak, already racing to interpret Blood god’s cryptic words. “Okay, that’s vague and terrifying.”

“The god interferes again.”

“What god?” 

There was silence. 

“Blood god,” Techno said slowly, “who’s interfering?” 

Blood god hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully. “I cannot name them. The rules forbid it.” Well, he’d heard that one before. Just like with Kristin, it seemed like the gods couldn’t name whoever was interfering, lest they interfere just as much. 

bruhhh rules shmules drop the name

god NDA goes crazy 💀

“You’re doing that cryptic thing again,” Techno groaned, effortlessly ripping a spare sword from its mount on the wall. “Can you at least tell me where Phil is?”

”The forest hides him. Make haste, before it’s too late.”

“Oh great, now you’re speaking in prophecies again. Did you eat a fortune cookie or something?” 

Blood God was silent, and his presence vanished as quickly as it had come. Techno sighed. 

He was well-used to this cryptic nonsense by now, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. 

Techno pushed open the door, stepping out into the biting cold with a shiver. He had barely taken a step when a blur of feathers hit him in the face with a squawk. He stumbled backwards, swatting at whatever it was. He spat feathers out of his mouth and opened his eyes to find a crow flailing wildly around his head. 

It steadied itself with a few flaps before hovering in front of his face, cawing urgently. Techno paused—wait, this was one of Phil’s crows! What was its name? Never mind, it didn’t matter. 

“Do you know where Phil is?” he demanded. 

SIR THIS IS A BIRD

Yes, chat, he knew it was a bird, but it wasn’t just any old bird. It was one of Phil’s birds. 

The crow nodded vigorously, and took off towards the forest with Techno in hot pursuit. 

He didn’t know what he’d find, but if the crows were here looking for help instead of staying with Phil? It was bad. 

Techno barged through the trees, uncaring of the branches that ripped at his face and the roots that tried to trip him. All that mattered was getting to Phil before it was too late. 

Finally, they burst into a clearing, and Techno slowed to a stop, gasping for air. 

Midnight-black feathers were scattered across the pure white snow like ash. Phil’s. He was close. 

Then he saw it—a massive, unmoving body in the centre of the clearing. Techno’s heart dropped. 

It wasn’t human.

It was about the size of a large horse, cloaked in feathers as black as Phil’s. Then, it moved, taking in a shuddering breath. Techno jumped, yanking his sword out of his belt to brandish it at the thing. 

What was that? It had to be some kind of monster, right? Was this the danger Blood God had warned him of? 

The crow flapped around Techno’s head, cawing indignantly. It didn’t seem scared, for whatever reason. Crows probably just had no self-preservation or something. 

Techno took a step forward, sword ready to swing if the thing lunged at him. 

The monster twitched, and its eyes snapped open. 

Those eyes—they were clear, crystalline blue, sharp like ice and heartbreakingly familiar. 

No. No way. 

They locked onto Techno’s and he gasped, his sword slipping from his hand. 

He knew those eyes. 

“Phil?!” 

~ ~ ~

When Phil managed to pull himself out of the tempting darkness of the void, he was not pleased to find just about every inch of his body aching like someone had taken a hammer to it. 

He was pondering the merits of getting up versus just lying on the floor when he heard something. Not the frantic caws of crows that had flitted around him since he woke up. The gasping breaths of a person. 

Phil’s eyes snapped open, meeting shocked red ones. 

It was Techno. His friend’s eyes widened. 

“Phil?!” 

“Techno!” he tried to respond, but it came out as a hoarse croak. Thank Prime, Techno was here! Whatever had happened, it was fine now. They could figure it out together. 

Techno had dropped his sword for some reason, and his hands came up to cover his mouth, eyes wide. 

“Phil, what happened to you?” he asked quietly, taking a careful step forward. That was a good question. Unfortunately, Phil had no idea what had happened. 

All his memories of the past day were fuzzy, like he was viewing them underwater. He had been going out to feed the animals, he knew that much. But then…the polar bears had gotten out, right? Yeah, they’d escaped and he’d chased after them. 

He’d followed the tracks to this clearing, and he’d found them. But then they’d disappeared into thin air. No, that couldn’t be right. It didn’t make any sense. What happened next?

Ancient magic in the air. Someone just out of sight. A flash of green. And overwhelming, debilitating pain. 

What was that? It was magic, Phil was sure of that, but whose? It was as ancient as the magic of gods, but it couldn’t be. They were forbidden from interfering directly with mortals. They needed some sort of medium, a priest. 

Which meant that someone on the server was using a God’s magic. 

Phil didn’t bother trying to respond to Techno, who was still hovering nearby. His throat was too sore, and he got the feeling he wouldn’t be able to speak for a while. 

There was still another question. Why had his attacker left him here? Phil had been unconscious and vulnerable, and whoever it was hadn’t even done anything. Surely that wasn’t right. They must have gained something from this. 

Techno stepped up to him, and Phil realised suddenly that he looked much smaller than before. Phil was lying on the ground, surely he shouldn’t still be at eye level with him. 

He should get up, right? Phil tried to bring his arms beneath him, but all he managed to do was pull his wings forward. Wow, he must be really out of it. Wait, Techno was talking to him.

“…can you get up?” Techno asked. Phil nodded. He could certainly try. “Here, let me help.” 

Techno positioned himself under Phil’s wing and started to lift. Phil pushed upwards with his other wing, and together they managed to get him back on his feet. Wait. 

He flapped his wing experimentally, and blinked. The movement was wrong. Too heavy. Too feathery. 

He turned his head slowly, trying to glance at his side, and froze. 

Attached to his side, where his arm should’ve been, was a massive ink-black wing. Thick feathers twitched as he flexed it again. His stomach dropped. 

No. No, that wasn’t right. 

Shakily, Phil reached for his face—only for the other wing to brush against his beak. 

His beak. 

Phil reared back with a strangled croak, suddenly very aware of the sharp weight protruding from his face. That wasn’t a nose. 

This wasn’t his face. 

“What—” The sound barely made it past his throat, coming out as a strangled squawk instead of speech. 

Techno flinched at the noise, but quickly stepped closer. “Phil?” he asked, gently. “You okay? You can—you can understand me, right?” 

Phil nodded jerkily, not trusting his voice. His heart was pounding. 

What had happened to him? 

Slowly, he looked down at the rest of himself. He shouldn’t have been surprised. 

And yet, he was. 

His body was covered in black feathers that shimmered with purples and greens as they were ruffled by the wind. He had massive black talons, clawed and built for flight, not walking. Connected to his body where his arms should’ve been, there were huge, muscled wings. 

Not attached to his back like an avian hybrid. Attached to his side like a real, honest-to-goodness bird. 

No, this had to be a dream. Some kind of trick. Right?

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t. The truth was clear. 

Phil was a bird. No, not just a bird. He was a giant crow. 

A monster. 

Phil’s breath hitched. He turned back to Techno, who was watching him with a grim, knowing look. When their eyes met, Techno offered him a half-hearted grin. 

“How the tables have turned, am I right?” 

Phil let himself fall back to the ground with a thump. He was a bird. A giant bird. What the fuck.

“Hey Phil, it’s okay,” Techno said softly, sitting down in the snow next to him, close enough to touch—but he didn’t, not yet.

The simple act of thoughtfulness made Phil’s heart ache, and he shifted closer so that his side was pressed up against Techno’s back. The warmth of the piglin hybrid seeped through his feathers comfortingly. 

“Listen, I know this feels crazy and out-of-control and hopeless, but it’s not. I know what it feels like to wake up and not recognize your own body. I’ve been through it too.”

That was right, Techno had gone through this—the pain, discovering his new body, all without a friend by his side. Phil was lucky in that respect, that Techno had figured out it was him. 

“I promise you, we will figure this out,” Techno vowed seriously. Then, he grinned, turning around to look Phil in the eye. “Now come on, let’s get you back home. It’s freezing out here, I don’t want you getting sick on top of everything else.” 

Phil nodded, and with Techno’s help, got back to his feet. He paused uncertainly. How was he supposed to walk? 

A crow flapped into his vision with a sharp caw. It hovered in front of him, puffing up proudly. Theo. Of course. 

But if these crows were a part of Phil’s chat, why couldn’t he understand them? He tilted his head in confusion and Theo sagged a little, disappointed. 

Right—Techno had said that his chat went quiet while he was a piglin. This must be the same. 

Still, Theo didn’t give up. He hopped to Phil’s side, took a slow step forward, then looked back with an encouraging caw. 

Phil blinked, then mimicked the much smaller crow. He lifted his foot slightly, then placed it forward. He didn’t fall over. That was a good sign. 

He took another step. Then another. Phil’s wings flared up in excitement, feathers ruffling in the cold wind. He was walking!

It probably looked ridiculous—a massive crow stomping after a tiny bird like some kind of demented parade—but he didn’t care. He was moving, therefore it was a win. 

Theo flapped off the ground, hovering in midair. He probably hadn’t been intending for Phil to copy him anymore, but the movement sparked a thought. His wings—they were healed. Full, healthy, and not missing any feathers. He could fly. 

Phil spread them out, marvelling at his wingspan. Each wing had to be as long as a horse. Then, with a great flap, he threw himself into the air. 

Instantly, the pain from earlier, which had mostly faded, was back with a fury. His wings ached but he kept flapping, desperate to soar through the skies. 

As it turned out, flying as an avian hybrid was greatly different from flying as an actual bird. Phil had no arms to balance himself—his wings were in place of his arms. 

Instinctually, he steadied himself to be upright, and he instantly plummeted. 

Phil’s heart dropped. Birds did not fly standing up like a human would. They flew leaning forward. Logically, he knew that. It didn’t change the fact that he was now falling quite fast towards the ground. He braced himself to hit the floor.

Phil landed with a muffled thud and an explosion of snow, legs sticking up in the air. 

“Ten out of ten on effort,” Techno said sarcastically, arms crossed. “Two out of ten on landing.”

Phil scowled as best he could with his beak and struggled back to his feet. Fine. He’d just walk. 

“C’mon Phil, you can try flying later.”

Phil huffed and shook the snow out of his feathers, puffing up like a disgruntled pillow. Techno chuckled and turned to lead the way, boots crunching against the fresh snow. 

Phil trailed behind him at first, wings tucked awkwardly to his sides. Walking as a bird was strange. Balancing the weight of his huge, feathery body on just two skinny legs felt like walking on stilts. Well, at least he wasn’t face-planting anymore.

The crows flew in lazy loops overhead as the sun set below the horizon. It was quiet for a while. Not uncomfortably so, just still. 

Phil had so much he wanted to say, but all he could get out were chirps and caws. So, they walked in silence, the only sounds the whistling wind and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. 

Every now and then, Phil let out a short, indignant trill when he stumbled. At one point, he fell ass-deep into a hidden pit, and he let out a flurry of chirpy expletives, wings flapping furiously as he scrambled out.

Techno glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “Oh, I know that look. You’re pouting.”

Phil squawked loudly. 

“You are. Don’t deny it.” 

Phil sped up, waddling like an angry chicken just to bump into Techno. Techno stumbled, then gave him a flat look, but Phil could see the fond smile trying to peek through. 

“Rude,” Techno said dryly. “Alright, you get one pity attack ‘cause you fell out of the sky.” 

The cabin finally came into view over a hill, its windows glowing with warm orange light. Smoked drifted leisurely from the chimney, and Phil instinctively puffed up at the comforting sight. 

But then, he froze.

A tall figure leaned against the cabin wall, silhouetted by the windows. Phil jabbed Techno with his beak and gestured wildly at the person. Techno followed his gaze and tensed. His hand darted out for his sword—only to come up empty. 

“Shit,” Techno muttered. “I must’ve left it in the clearing. You wait here and I’ll see what they want, okay?”

Phil gave a displeased caw, shaking his head vigorously. Oh wait, he should probably be quiet so whoever it was didn’t notice them. He snapped his beak shut.

“Phil please, we do not need rumours going around about a server cryptid.” 

Techno turned and began to march determinedly towards the cabin, then paused. He spun back around, then pointed a finger at Phil. “Stay. Please.” 

Phil watched him go for a moment. 

Yeah. Fat chance.

Then, he took off after his friend.