Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘I want it to have meaning,’ he explained, feet submerged in the water. ‘Something personal.’ 

‘Is it so personal if it’s you writing it?’ she asked. 

He pursed his lips in mock thought, defeated. ‘That’s why I require your help. I want to make this right.’

She swam over to the edge, gills flaring with every stroke she made. Niki looked up at him, a playful frown dawning her lips. It was something caring, something serious. She knew how much this meant to him; for Phil. 

‘This isn’t for you to make right.’ 

‘Maybe not, but what better am I if I ignore it?’ 

Niki smiled warmly.

“This is ridiculous.” 

“It really is, but you consented.” 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” 

Techno scoffed in amusement at his brother’s apprehensiveness. His face scrunched up in scrutiny as he stared at themselves in the mirror.

“No, Cy. I’ve never dyed hair before,” Techno replied with a smirk. 

Cyber rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

“I really don’t. Lean back.” 

“If you ruin my hair–” 

“You picked purple.” 

“No,” Cyber retorted as he leaned back into the sink, “I picked chartreuse but you said you only had red or blue.” 

“And you picked purple,” Techno repeated. 

“I’m just saying it better not result in some monstrosity of a colour.” 

“Well we’re about to find out,” Techno said as he rinsed through his brother’s hair with the suspended facet. Once he was sure all the residue was out, he grabbed a towel and began to ruffle up Cyber’s hair much to his older brother’s protests. “Alright!” 

Techno face Cyber towards the mirror before removing the towel as a magician would to unveil their newest trick. He grinned, studying Cyber in the mirror to discern his reaction. 

Cyber pursed his lips, leaning forward as he touched his newly dyed locks. “It resulted in a more indigo.” 

Techno rolled his eyes for what felt like the tenth time since they started this little impromptu salon in Cyber’s washroom. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he laughed.

“I didn’t say that.” 

“It was implied in the way you upturned your lip.” 

“Ha, ha,” Cyberknife said as he continued to examine his new hair. “I suppose it’s suitable.” 

“Please leave a review,” Techno answered as he removed the towel from Cyber’s shoulders. 

Techno couldn’t blame his brother for the need of change. After everything and the new routes they were taking with the family business, Cyber had actually “approached” (used very lightly as Cyber was never one to just ask for a favour) Techno with the request of possibly dying his hair to further differentiate himself from the likes of their father. It came to Techno as a surprise really, but after mixing the dyes he had available, he went to work and gladly obliged to his brother’s wishes. 

Cyber let a smirk slip that Techno caught in the mirror’s reflection, but didn’t dare point it out. What mattered was that Cyber attained his goal. 

“Don’t think this changes your appearance in the scheduled meeting with the coalition on Thursday. You promised and I am not covering for you again.” 

Techno gave a whistle. “We have a meeting Thursday?” 

“The coalition wants to meet again to discuss upcoming prospects,” he informed Techno with a stern snip in his tone. “As this was your idea, I entrust you to be in attendance.” 

“Where else would I be?” Techno asked easily.

“Galavanting off with your new personal projects like that commune.” Cyber muttered, glancing at his through their reflection in the mirror. “Really, assisting hybrids with jobs? Employing the intermix? Don’t forget the business comes first before your not-for-profits.” 

Techno tossed the ruined towel into the hamper. He wasn’t too concerned; it was the towel he always used when he dyed his own hair, smeared with reddish-pink stains across the fabric. Towel aside however, Techno knew his brother was still adjusting to all this. Despite having his and their mother’s support, Techno knew Cyber was overwhelmed with being suddenly thrusted into Head of the House and all its responsibilities. 

His brother was the one who had to deal with the fallouts of cutting ties with their previous partners. They had a grace period of course; returning back with the tale of getting separated from Billium. They received sympathies and enough casseroles and edible bouquets to last a lifetime. Everyone was ‘oh very sorry’ to hear their father was missing, June particularly distressed about it. As thankful as she was to have her boys back, she was adamant about sending their men out to the mountains to search for her husband, with of course, no results. 

His father wasn’t in the mountains. 

Despite her mourning, their mother took hold of a lot of the responsibilities Cyberknife needed assistance with, like she had been waiting her entire life to tell these people in the kindest way possible that their dealings were officially done and to fuck off. Partners with contracts were harder to deal with, but his mother handled it incredibly with grace and coldness, for the most part. Listening to the Lady of the House wasn’t always enough, but listening to a kid was even worse. 

Techno worked more of the backgrounds of it. He was gradually working up towards eventually cleaning up the underground market, but before that, he needed to clean up the aboveground market. That involved him creating jobs for hybrids; whether to be employed by the Syndicate or find outreaches that would employ them. He was also extending his time and effort towards finding other intermix; which was far more difficult as only a handful are ever meaning to admit to their true origin. 

Techno nor his mother or brothers have come out about their true origin publically. The world wasn’t yet ready for people like them, but they could help build it up for others. However small his association for intermix was right now, he was sure it would grow as it became more accepting. And Techno strived to be a pillar in that change. 

“The Syndicate name is giving back,” Techno reminded. “After all the damage we’ve caused, this is our chance to reform our practices, use our money properly for once.”

“Tell that to the south rings, they are peeved with us for dropping business.” 

“They can find business elsewhere. But if I’m to have it my way, the rings won’t last long with their current practices.” 

“Money talks, but you talk more,” Cyber smirked.

“Whew,” Wilbur whistled as he phased through the door into the washroom. Those toxic neon green eyes widened, and Cyberknife immediately grabbed for the nearest towel to throw over his head. “Purple suits you.” 

“Out!” Cyber shouted as if he were indecent. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Wilbur shrugged a shoulder. “Why bother when I can just pop in?” 

“I wasn’t prepared!” Cyber stammered. “I mean–”

“Okay, cool it, both of you,” Techno cut in. He nodded his chin towards the spirit. “What’s going on?” 

“Your mum called me to call you to say breakfast is ready.” 

“And it’s delicious!” Sneeg piped up, popping out from the vent with a mouthful of said breakfast. 

“Are you eating my breakfast, you worm!” 

“Uh, what happened to what’s yours is ours?” asked Sneeg. “Also I’m clearly a moth.” 

“Who else is in here?” Cyber asked, looking about the washroom. “Is someone about to teleport in? Is this vanity really a vanity?” 

“Cy,” Techno shook his head, “fix your hair and come for breakfast.” 

If Techno had thought the House was loud before with the yells of his father and the laughter of the twins, he was proven wrong as soon as the commune members had moved in. 

Wilbur was always causing a servant to shriek for one reason or another, often appearing out of nowhere with his unsettling smile to greet them and tended to drive everyone crazy by moving items about the house. Cyberknife was his favourite target. 

Charlie caused servants to shriek, too, but for unrelated reasons. He was just so quiet and so odd that sometimes someone would just come face-to-face with the Slimecician and scream. Poor guy didn’t even notice the screams were in fear and not a special greeting reserved for him. 

Tubbo and Tommy had taken to a prank war with the twins, the teams one-upping each other every chance they got with the unfortunate casualties caught in the crossfire; as would happen when sharing a space. If they weren’t engaged in a prank war, Tommy and Tubbo were often threatening George and Hamilton for one reason or another, causing the twins to seek out their elder brother for help. Conveniently, this often happened in the early hours of the morning. 

James and Bek were thankfully very polite. They kept to themselves in the House’s library, absolutely enamoured with the literature of books they had never even dreamed of reading. It also gave James ample amount of time and quiet to finish working on his own book that had successfully been published under an alias. James was right, that the public would be unwilling to read a book published by a hybrid author, so they worked under the guise of the book being written by an anonymous worker of the underground market. 

And it was a hit. Over the course of the cold season, James was just as astonished to learn his book was doing incredibly well, especially among the common public, those learning about the dealings of the underground market and uprooting the cushioned lifestyles watchmen had when engaging with it. 

Shubble found herself caring for Aimsey. The water had caused a lot of damage. Techno had personally hired a doctor to come and care for the hybrid until he had managed to work his new reality. The limp and eye problems were permanent, but nothing that the eccentric Enderian didn’t overcome. If anything, it fueled him with rigor to help Technoblade in his own personal project of creating safe spaces for hybrids and intermix individuals within the association.

Fundy, Beau and Scott had actually gotten along with Technoblade’s mother. They spent their days in the luxurious greenhouses June kept on their property, inviting them to join her whenever she went to assist the servants. Scott spent the entire winter there, tilling and planting and pruning, he truly found a love for the plants as well as marvelled under the glass ceilings at night when the stars were clear and visible. 

Jack and Niki spent their days in the lavish pool room. Just having a space for themselves with room to do as they pleased when they wanted was enough for them, getting to spend time together after being torn apart by the poachers. It seemed they never ran out of topics to discuss as Techno found himself often bringing them their meals when Jack wouldn’t show up to eat. 

Sparklez spent his days in rest. He loved loafing about, finding the high vantage points of the House the best. He especially loved the upstairs study where Technoblade and his brothers had been taught by their tutors. He would spend hours reading about the world, spinning the makeshift globe and watching the stars through the telescope. 

And then there was Philza who often went on flights. He stayed with the Syndicates, as did everyone, but Technoblade didn’t blame the Elytra for not wanting to stay within the home that once entrapped him. He was nervous, and it was plain to see. He didn’t enter any rooms where he couldn’t extent his wings, he avoided any long corridors or rooms without windows. He often requested for windows to be opened, even though it was the dead of winter. It allowed his crows to not only come in, but for him to fly out if he needed to. 

He needed to escape. 

He needed to know this was not like before. 

Technoblade couldn’t forget one of the first nights the hybrids had spent in the House of Syndicate. Techno had come downstairs late one evening, almost stepping on Fundy who had decided the stairs were the perfect spot to sleep. 

As he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, he caught sight of Philza. The Endborn hybrid was standing before two familiar grand doors, his talons lightly touching the handles as if debating if he wanted to open them. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed. When Techno had proposed his idea to his mother, June was quick to welcome them all into their home. Nothing was off-limits. She insisted they treat the place as if it were their own, but that wasn’t the issue here tonight. The issue was the room that Philza was currently standing before. 

Billium’s office. The one with the golden cage. 

The hybrids had seen it. After a whole winter, curiosity got the better of one or the other and they would open the always-closed doors to peek inside; quickly shutting it when the skulls stared back at them. 

Techno had on more than one occasion had to calm someone down, explain that that was his father’s office, and while it wasn’t off-limits, it was going to contain a lot of disturbing artifacts from his time in the trade. 

They never touched the office when they returned from their excursion–the memories being painful reminders of the man who raised them–they simply closed the doors and left that piece of their lives behind them. 

Easier said than done, of course. Trade partners were not pleased when they found out the Syndicates were dropping out of partnerships, no longer supplying to the rings nor purchasing from licenced poachers. 

“Phil?” 

Philza had jumped at the sudden intrusion of another living being, turning so quickly that he had smacked his wrist against the door handles. 

“Technoblade,” he said, because Techno looked so much like his father. Their eyes were one thing but he would always be his father’s son; he would always carry that shadow with him, and right now, Philza almost had a heart attack to see his old abuser emerge from the shadows of the hallway. “It’s only you.” 

Techno looked at Philza’s pale face before looking at the sturdy oak doors that opened to his father’s study. “Do you want to go in?” 

Philza looked at Technoblade incredulously, then back at the doors. He looked to be mulling it over in his mind, debating the possibility that yes he wanted to go in. But why? To relieve that same trauma? To be faced with that godforsaken cage? 

Philza didn’t have the words, but that didn’t matter. Technoblade felt he knew the other, knew him for far longer than they actually had. Beyond that day in the cave, Techno felt he always had something to do with the brilliant hybrid before him, even when bars of gold separated them and their worlds. 

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. 

Techno reached forward, brushing against Philza’s knuckles, and opened the doors. 

Tentatively, Philza walked into the room, eyes wide at the skulls that watched his every move, of the dead hybrids from a past Techno was ashamed to be a part of. The generous length of the office gave way to the adornment of trophies his father had kept so dear; the Pearls of Enderian lost to the rings, scales from a Merling on the wall, an assortment of feathers gathered in a vase from various Avians, a lucky rabbit’s foot over the fireplace. 

And that damned golden cage.

Philza stopped before it, not daring to touch the metal as if it were gold that burned him and not iron. 

“I wanted to die,” Philza suddenly said and Techno felt his chest constrict at that. “For so long I wanted to die. I wanted to see her again, just even for a moment, but every time I tried Death rejected me. Then I was here, and I’d never wanted to die more, except I knew I couldn’t. I knew I was stuck in a nightmare.” Philza looked away from the cage, looking towards the door they had just entered from; the shadows of the hallway pooling into the cold room. “And then a child with a key walked in.” 

“I’ve always hated this room,” Techno replied. He could still hear the echoes of his father within the walls. Sometimes, if Techno was quiet enough, he swore he could hear his father crawling through these very walls. So many nights he had woken up in a cold sweat because he swore Billium had whispered into his ear. Impossible, he would remind himself. “Every time I got scolded it would be in this damned office.”

But his father was dead. Had surely bled out in a forest ditch. How was it that even when the body was gone, the person’s presence never seemed to leave? He had ensured the body would stay gone. 

“I never imagined to be back here,” Philza continued, now looking up at Techno. Those eyes were devoid of that pain, fear and curiosity they had held the last time they were here–this time shining with an emotion Techno couldn’t place. Hope? Gratefulness? “And with my rescuer.” 

“Were you really going to kill me in the cave?” Techno asked because that meeting felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Of course,” Philza said easily, as if Techno had asked something as simple as his favourite colour. “I was going to rip your intestines from your throat.” 

Technoblade found himself laughing. “Well. That’s a nice mental image.” 

The memory was cold but clear in Techno’s mind. How then Philza had been asked to be left alone in the office, and Techno surmised it was some kind of exposure therapy, to see that the office was just a room, no more and no less but a room that held no real power over him. But that was for Philza to learn himself, for him to come to those terms, so Techno had obeyed. He left the room with a quiet ‘goodnight’. 

The smell of breakfast was strong as Techno moved towards the dining area, opening the door only to immediately be impacted by both Hamilton and George as they barreled into him. He hardly had the time to ask before Tommy skidded to a halt just before colliding into the humans as well. 

“Blade!” 

Techno rolled his eyes. “What happened?” 

“Nothing–”

“George ate the last pancake and Tommy threatened to eat us!” 

“He said Avians are carnivorous!” 

Technoblade looked at Tommy who began to whistle in feign ignorance. Techno knelt down to be at level with his younger brothers. 

“Don’t you two know to never steal food from a hybrid? Especially an Avian? They dine on our flesh and drink our blood, intermix or not. You two better run, and I’m sure Tommy will give you a headstart.” 

The twins’ eyes widened as they shoved past Technoblade and ran screaming down the hallway. 

Tommy gave a pump into the air before giving an exaggerated growl and chased the twins down. Techno laughed as they ran off, turning towards the table where everyone else was either still eating or helping to clear their plates, laughing or rolling their eyes at the display. 

“Oh sweetheart,” his mother chided from her spot, “be nice to your brothers.” 

Techno gave her a kiss on the cheek before taking a seat next to her. 

“Morning, mother. Have you seen Philza yet?” Techno asked, noting the Elytra’s absence from the table. 

“Oh, these cookies are delicious!” Aimsey suddenly exclaimed, shoving a whole one into their mouth. “You say this is just sugar?” 

“Processed sugar, and surely artificial flavour crap.” Scott said casually from across the table. 

“Amazing!” They reached for another. “I love it!” 

“Oh, Techie,” Wilbur called, floating over with a cup in hand. “I used that funny little machine in the kitchen. I hope it’s to your liking.” 

The Phantom placed down a cup of steaming coffee before ‘sitting’ in the chair next to him. Techno’s eyes went wide, almost forgetting to thank the ghost before taking a gulp of the delicious beverage. 

Man he had enjoyed every cup of coffee he has gotten since he got back. 

“You need Phil?” Wilbur piped up, his legs half-phased through the piece of furniture. 

“Yes, I have something for him,” Techno answered. 

“He should be back soon. Went on an early morning fly.” Wilbur held up a hand palm-down and thumb out, whisking it through the air with a whispered ‘ whoosh ’. 

“Why are the twins using my room as refuge?” Cyber asked as he turned the corner to enter the dining area. 

“Oh, sweetie,” June smiled, running her fingers through her own hair. “I love the colour.” 

Cyberknife’s face went red as his hands subconsciously brushing his hair back that was now neatly brushed and pulled into a low ponytail. “Thanks. Just wanted a change, I guess.” 

Their mother nodded, motioning for Cyber to come sit next to her. “Well, I think it looks lovely.” 

“Now see, that’s what I said!” laughed Wilbur. 

Cyber’s red face deepened. “You need to adhere to the physics of walls and doors!” 

“You’re just mad I saw you in a less-than-perfect state,” Wilbur said, sticking his tongue out. 

“How dare–” 

“Well, breakfast has been great, as always.” Techno stood to his feet, making to leave. 

“Honey, you haven’t eaten anything.” 

“I’ll eat after, I’m going to prepare our leave.” 

“Have a multivitamin then, at least.” 

“What? You guys just eat vitamins?” Aimsey asked with a mouthful of cookies. “Humans really are the strangest! I love it.” 

Techno didn’t stay for much else. He excused himself and headed towards the écurie to request two draught horses. He wasn’t going to need a rider, he knew the way by heart at this point, and he didn’t want anyone waiting on him and Philza. He’d much rather it just be the two of them. So, he attained the horses and then picked a book to read on the front steps while he waited. 

He got through a good five chapters before he heard the chorus of caws. Wherever Philza tended to go, the murder of crows were never far behind. It was almost a comfort these past few months, the caws and clicking and chirps always letting him know Philza was about to show; about to round a corner or sitting there with that easy smile on his face. 

Philza spotted him. He raised a hand, the sun catching off the surface of the ring, gleaming like it was the most priceless artifacts in the world. 

Perhaps it was. 

Techno raised a hand back in greeting. 

“I apologise, mate,” Philza said as he touched the ground in a graceful landing. “I hadn’t known anyone would be waiting for me.” 

“Well, I know you just got back but, wanna go for a ride?” 

Philza did that head tilt, the one he (and his birds) did when they were curious about something. A clicking came from his throat, the feathers along his face ruffling as he eyed the Clydesdales. 

Techno nodded his head towards the horses. “You ever ridden one?” 

Philza scoffed, placing a hand on his hips. “I was alive when they bred these things for human work, yet you think I’ve never ridden one?” 

“Alright then, that’s Percy, and that’s Lacey. Take your pick.” 

Philza went over to the one with the white spotting. “Lacey, was it?” 

Techno grabbed onto the reins, mounting onto Percy the horse. He turned to face Philza, making sure he could climb on okay. To Techno’s genuine surprise, Philza effortlessly mounted onto the horse, grabbing onto the mane before moving to the reins. Philza kept his wings drawn in, close to his body and away from the ground and Lacey’s hooves. 

Philza looked at Techno, sharp but playful. “Where are we going?” 

“Follow me. It’s a bit off but it’ll be worth it.” 

And so they rode. Philza cracked a few jokes as they did, asking Techno if he was finally going to kill him, or if he meant to go to the commune he made the wrong turn. Techno was amused by them all, refuting back that he wouldn’t dare go up against Philza, knowing very well what the Elytra is capable of. 

“You’d win and it wouldn’t even be a fair fight.” 

“Nonsense, you can hold your own.” Philza gave a shrug. “But you are right, I’d be the victor.” 

Techno just laughed. 

They rode in silence after that for a while. They had already gone through Techno’s hometown and the upper town, now inching further to the east side, eating the day until it was well into the afternoon. By now, the sun was basking down on them, the cool spring breeze blowing through their hair. 

They had gotten a lot of stares on their way. Though much has changed over the course of the last few months, it still wasn’t enough for the public to witness a hybrid ride a noble horse. They passed many hybrids still wearing name plates, but much to Techno’s gratefulness, he did see some hybrids without name plates cleaning the streets and fixing up the outdoor patios. It was baby steps, but it was steps towards a more inclusive future for them all. 

But to see not only a hybrid riding a draught horse with a noble, it was the crest displayed on the horses that surely gained attention, too. 

Everyone knew about the missing noble Billium III. Everyone knew of how he went on an expedition to find his missing son, only to go missing himself. It was pretty hot news when they first got back. Along with the sympathies there were also the snoops who just wanted the next big headline for their printing press. Billium’s disappearance was quite the public discussion especially among ring-goers.

“It’s nice the weather is turning warm again,” Philza started. 

Techno could only laugh. 

“What?” Philza asked, perplexed.

“You just commented on the weather. You really are old.” 

“Hey,” Philza pulled up until he was right beside Techno and Percy, “respect your elders, youngin.” 

“I do!” Techno laughed, shielding himself as Philza lightly punched him in the bicep. “I do respect you! That’s why I even planned this outing.” 

“Speaking off, I’m getting sore just sitting here. Wouldn’t it have been easier to fly?” 

“For you.” Technoblade smirked. “I’m the one dangling like a ragdoll.” 

Philza laughed at that. “Well, my point still stands. Just where are we going?” 

“I’ve been working on something important,” Techno stated. “Speaking of, it’s in this town. Keep close.” 

Techno sped it up, Philza having no issue keeping up. Just like the previous towns, they received their looks. It seems news spread as wide as his father’s reach in the trade, which made sense. With every partner they notified, rumours seemed to circulate. 

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was them coming upon a gated area, the gate left wide open to encourage people through if it weren’t for the watchman standing guard. Techno pulled his horse to a halt, dismounting and tying Percy off by the trough left by the entrance. 

He looked up to Philza. “No horses allowed past the gate.” 

Philza raised a brow but complied. He dismounted, allowing Techno to take over in tying Lacey up. The watchmen narrowed his eyes before catching sight of the crest embellished on the side of the horses. He scrunched his nose up in clear disdain, eyeing Philza with a look of disgust. Techno said nothing to him, however, only giving him a glare in return that promised problems if the man did anything. 

When the horses were safely tied by the water and helping themselves, Techno motioned for Philza to continue following him through. 

“You…” Philza grimaced as he looked about the area, “...brought me to a cemetery?” 

At the rolling hills, they passed headstones of all types. Many were disturbingly new with upturned dirt. As it was the beginning of the spring season, the dirt was becoming malleable again, and so was the preparations of burying all the bodies who passed during the cold time. It was a disturbing sight that Techno had not taken into consideration. In his excitement of the surprise, he had disregarded that fact which was not a comforting welcome. 

Even so, they managed through the sites of new graves, coming up towards what Techno was waiting nearly two months to reveal. 

“Okay, okay, Philza–close your eyes.” 

Philza tilted his head again. “Really?” 

Techno sighed dramatically. “Can you just?” 

“Alright, alright,” Philza agreed, shielding his eyes with his feathers. Techno stared him down. 

“Are they closed under there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” Techno took hold of Philza’s hand, guiding him further down the pathway, warning him of his steps and when a sizeable rock came in their path. He gave it a kick off the pathway. “Okay. Ready?” 

“Yes, mate. What is so important?” 

“Open!” 

Philza opened his eyes, seeing the recently planted rose bushes that had clearly been grown in a greenhouse, as the buds were already blooming. 

“Oh,” Philza nodded, “wow they’re…pretty. Very pretty.” 

Techno could’ve laughed. The way the hybrid was treating him as if he were an excitable kid. But Techno knew better. Philza was still trying to keep the hype, even though he hadn’t yet seen the surprise yet. 

“Go closer.” 

Philza sighed kindly, giving a soft smile before he ventured closer. He admired the colourful roses, touching each one like it was as delicate as glass, even the baby buds, careful to not pinch himself on the thorns.

Red, white, pink, yellow–they were gorgeous, all in full bloom, encircling the gazebo like a brilliant snake.

“Someone once told me, ‘people can complain because rose bushes grow thorns–’”

“–‘or we may rejoice because the thorn bushes grow roses’,” Philza finished. “Karr.”

“You’ve heard it.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Someone once told me that, too,” Philza said, his voice cracking. 

Techno leaned forward, noting the way Philza had completely tensed up. He expected this. He expected the tears, maybe even screams–but he knew it was for the best. He had promised Philza, and even without the ring, he intended to keep that promise. He wasn’t, however, expecting the still silence, the coldness of it. 

“Phil?” 

“You found her.” 

Murder. Human girl. Hybrid partner. Not-guilty. Hanged. 

“I’m sorry it took so long. But, yeah. I did. I found her.”

Philza sniffed, a poor attempt at keeping the inevitable at bay as he brushed his hands over the carved words in the raised plaque. 

“How?” 

“Well, it took awhile. I contacted a lot of cemeteries in a few towns and, honestly, lucky for me they keep a damn good record. It took searching but finally one got back to me that they had a positive for her name and time of burial. She, uh,” Techno coughed awkwardly, chewing on the inside of his lip, “didn’t have a headstone. I’m sorry, I should have asked you before but, I can change it. Anything you want it can be changed.”

Philza didn’t reply. Techno watched; his excitement falling away to nerves. He had waited for this specific moment, feeling almost too overwhelmed when he had gotten the call from the cemetery. He remembered the first time he ventured out here, minutes after receiving that call he had set out for the cemetery. He met with a young staff member, a name of which escaped him right now; but she had kindly shown him their records. The fragile papers from years of wear felt fragile between his fingertips as he examined the name and the date of burial as well as information of the burial itself. 

She was buried without a coffin, simply wrapped in a linen cloth and placed into the earth. Techno wasn’t about to disturb the dead, but when he was brought to the spot where a shovel had upturned a scoop of dirt to indicate the plot, he knew he had to put money down for a proper gravestone. He had consulted Niki in her thoughts. Nothing extravagant. Philza wasn’t like that. He was a simple soul, so a plaque would do, but he still ensured the plaque’s durability. He had paid for a granite plaque, a coral rose colour as Techno thought would suit best, and it had taken some time to construct and carve his message. 

But seeing the tears run freely down Philza’s face as he stared down at it, he felt he had made the right choice. 

Philza didn’t even bother wiping his face, looking up at Techno with wide, blue eyes. They looked so similar to that night when he was ten–the golden door swinging open and the cuffs falling from his joints. That look of disbelief. 

This plaque is did dedicate to the mem’ry of Kristin Rosales,

who is’t hadst h’r nameth, family, and tale taken from h’r. 

Victim of an unlawful murd’r,

of which incit’d the infamous trial. 

The townsfolk condemn’d h’r f’r h’r affection towards h’r hybrid partn’r,

of whom wast wrongfully did convict of the crime and hang’d. 

The burial sites of h’r partn’r and their son has’t not yet been recov’r’d

Philza couldn’t bring himself to take his hand off the stone, brushing it with his fingers so delicately like it would crumble beneath his touch. 

“You did this?” Philza asked. It was so soft Techno had almost missed it, the words almost swallowed by the breeze that ruffled through the grass. 

“I promised you I’d keep your family safe. I apologise if I crossed a line, but I wanted everything to be perfect before I brought you here. Niki helped me construct the message.”

“You really found her.” 

“The cemetery has the papers to prove it. It’s her. Buried by her mother. Since her father…passed, the town sent her body to her next of kin during the trial. It was a pauper’s grave, but the cemetery kept record of her plot.” He paused. “I’m still looking for Wilbur’s but…”

It didn’t need to be said. Kristin was human, she was permitted to be buried in a proper cemetery no matter the credits to her family’s name. Wilbur, hybrids, weren’t so lucky. They were either buried where they fell, mutilated beyond recognition, or sold for parts; discarded because nobody cared if a hybrid died. 

‘Used. Dead. Buried in unmarked graves.’

“Technoblade,” Philza started, but closed his mouth. Techno said nothing, waiting patiently as Philza tried to find the right words, mulling over them with his tongue before swallowing the bitter taste of them. Finally, he opened his mouth, looking at Techno with eyes so wide, so helpless, “I don’t know what to say.” 

Techno shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone.” 

Techno walked past a few of the rolling hills, putting distance between himself and Philza so the Elytra could have his privacy. It wasn’t long before the crying could be heard, the desperate apologies being whispered to the dirt, for taking so long to visit her despite that everything in this world and the next was keeping Philza and Kristin apart. 

Techno waited. He let Philza have his time with Kristin, to talk to her, tell her about everything she missed. And Techno waited and said nothing. He waited quietly until Philza approached him, the two walking in silence back towards the gate where a new watchman was standing guard. 

They mounted and headed back towards the House, the sun beginning to lower itself behind them in late afternoon. Their ride back was slow and quiet, the sounds of the bustling towns around them being the only sound accompanying their journey. And that was fine with Techno. He knew Philza must have a multitude of thoughts rushing through his head and he was fine waiting until the other was ready to speak. 

“You planted the rose bushes?” 

Techno nodded. “I did.” 

“She loved roses.” 

“There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about.” Techno began, easing Percy so that he was at a more lenient pace beside his friend. “A few months back. When everything happened at the summerhouse–” Philza failed to hide the face he made, grimacing at a terrible memory “–I fell down a ditch.” 

“Did you?” 

“I did. And, I thought at the time it was a dream or a hallucination from hitting my head–I cracked it on a sizeable rock–”

“You cracked your head open?” Philza asked, almost horrified at the notion as if he hadn’t experienced worse. 

“I woke up with blood but the wound repaired itself.” 

“I don’t understand.” Philza admitted, eyes furrowed as he tried to piece together what Techno was telling him. “Are you telling me you heal?” 

“My wounds–being hit over the head by Wilbur, the bite from Tommy, the burn from Jack, even the knife…” he reflexively had a hand go to his side, the scar beneath holding one of the most painful memories Techno had in his short life, “they’ve all healed. Cyber and I always healed quickly–we always were pitted to fight as practice. But this instance is when it really clicked for me because I think I died or something. Or would it be near-death?”

Philza fell quiet, face scrunched in thought. “And…you’re certain it wasn’t a hallucination?” 

“I spoke to Kristin.” 

Philza almost fell off his horse at that, gripping the reins so tightly he almost cut into his own skin with his talons. He looked over to Techno, eyes now wide with that look of disbelief again, but something else was there, too. 

“I tried telling Cy, but he didn’t understand. But, she was there. She knew me, she told me about the rose bushes.” 

“You spoke to her?” Philza asked, as if he needed to repeat the words to believe them. Maybe he did. “How? How is that possible?” 

“She’s waiting for you,” Techno said, keeping his voice steady. He could almost see Kristin again; her long black hair that fell down to her skirt, her gentle brown eyes peeking from beneath the brim of a sun hat with roses sewn into the band. She had been a beautiful woman inside and out. “She saved me. She had me turn back.” 

Philza didn’t reply. Techno looked over, wanting to be sure he wasn’t crossing a line here, only to see Philza was silently crying. Tears swelled and ran down his cheeks freely, his eyes bright with a new kind of glow. It wasn’t that piercing kind, the type that told you you were prey, but now something akin to when Techno had opened the window that night to a sky full of stars. 

Techno wanted to say more, but all the words suddenly dried on his tongue when he heard Philza. It started off as a low hum , a rattling click coming up from his chest. The timbre started off airy, the tone lilting as it gained a more tender note. Techno said nothing, listening to the floating melody that was as light and delicate as a bird’s bones. 

Philza was singing. 

The Elytra never sang. 

Techno listened, although he couldn’t make out the words. They had harsh consonants and it was clear this was not Common. Nonetheless, Techno listened. He revered in the passion delivered, the way he couldn’t understand the words but knew in his chest that this was a broken song, something lost, something short but meaningful. 

When Philza was done, he simply sighed, his wings lowering ever so slightly but still mindful of the horse hooves. 

“What did that mean?” 

“A love song,” Philza said quietly, “a goodbye song.” 

“It’s nice.” 

Philza smirked, eyes watery with unshed tears. “Elytrians are known for their song.” 

“I’d never heard you. I just assumed you had a horrible singing voice.” 

That got Philza to laugh, and Techno decided his laughter was the more rewarding song. 

They returned to the House, dismounting their horses and handing them off to one of the servants to return them to the écurie. Philza followed after Techno up the steps to the House, reaching for him just before he opened the doors. 

“Technoblade.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I didn’t properly thank you.” He said. “For keeping your promise.” 

“For you Phil, the world.” 

“I was truly wrong about you.” He squeezed Techno’s arm, almost shaking. “Thank you for keeping my family safe.” 

“I’d wish you’d stay here.” 

Philza shook his head. “We need to return to the commune. It’s thanks to you we even can. But whistle whenever you wish to visit and one of my crows will lead you through the forest.” 

“Whenever I wish, huh?” 

Philza smirked, releasing his hold on Techno. “I mean that. You will always have a home with us. You’re family.” 

“Thank you, Phil.” Techno said, because what else could he say to that? He could barely find the words to express his gratitude on the regular, nevermind now knowing he had a permanent olive branch extended towards him for whenever he desired.

Philza stared at him, his feathers shifting as he watched Techno’s demeanor. Techno stared back, suddenly all-too aware of his sagging shoulders and strained expression. 

Philza frowned. “Do you think of him?” 

Techno didn’t need to ask. They both knew who he meant. 

“Do you?” 

“All the time.” Philza’s gaze shifted up towards the sky. “He haunts me.”

Techno wanted to say he was sorry; sorry that his father had done so much harm, had uprooted countless hybrid lives, had caused so much damage and trauma, but that didn’t seem like enough. 

“Me too.” Techno wasn’t sure if he should tell Philza he thinks he hears his father, that he knows it’s impossible but feels he is actually haunted. “But he’s gone now.” 

Philza smiled sadly, almost like he didn’t believe it. “Good riddance.” He paused. “You’re different from him, you know.” 

“Am I?” Techno asked, because every time he looked in the mirror his father’s eyes stared back at him. “Sometimes I worry he’s influenced me more than I realise.” 

“Oh, Tech,” Philza reached out a hand, firmly placing it on Techno’s shoulder, “everyone carries with them the influences of those they meet. But it’s not what you carry with you, it’s how. You understand?” 

He did. He feared sometimes that he would be forced to be like his father, his youth filled with being told of these shoes he was expected to fill, how he tried to prove that he was not what his father needed him to be. But did he not show his own father the same cruelty when he left him there to die? He tries to assure himself that he wasn’t his father’s copy; but his just karma. It was assuring to be told he was his own person with his own choices given the tools he had in life.

“I am grateful,” Philza suddenly said, a weak smile on his weathered face, “of what you did today. For myself and for Kristin.” 

“Of course.” 

“Really, Tech. For years I’ve wondered where she was. I thought I would never see her again. I thought she was gone.” Philza gave a meek sigh. “I can’t express how grateful I am that you found her.” 

“I made you a promise. And I always deliver my promises.” 

Techno opened the door, moving aside so Philza could go in first. He raised a hand, shaking his head. “I think I’m going to go for a fly.” 

“Alright, return for dinner?” 

“Depends what it is.” 

“I think tonight is pasta with bolognese sauce.” 

“Then I will return for dinner.”

Philza spread out his wings, lifting off into the air with a single flap. Techno watched, seeing  as Philza flew into the direction of the setting sun. He sighed, that joyous feeling returning to his chest. He felt he owed his life to Philza, a debt he knew he could never pay off. But today he managed to find Kristin, to bring her home, and that was probably more than Philza had ever thought possible after all these years. 

“We’re having bologna?” 

Techno looked over, seeing Tommy standing on the inside of the door’s threshold, still wearing that sweater Techno had given him at the summerhouse. It had become one of the Avian’s favourite items, especially during the winter months. Standing next to him were Tubbo and Ranboo; the three seeming to have been walking down the hall before stopping by the door to eavesdrop. Techno vaguely wondered how long they had been listening for. 

Techno scoffed playfully. “Bolonese.” 

Tommy gave a little chirrup. “Sounds fancy!” 

“Leave it to you to be impressed by pasta.” 

“I am! I love living the rich life!” Tommy laughed at Tubbo’s comment. “The indoor plumbing is my favourite! Not always having to run to the lake for water? Peak shit.” 

“Not ideal for me,” Ranboo reminded. “I prefer the water kept in one place.” 

Techno rolled his eyes as he let himself into the House, ruffling Tommy’s hair as he walked past. Tommy attempted to bite at his hand, fending off the offending gesture as he ‘smoothed’ down his unruly curls. 

“Blade?” Tommy asked, following after the other as they made their way down the front hall. 

“Yeah?” 

“You are coming back with us, aren’t you?” 

Techno had been thinking about that. Honestly, the irony wasn’t lost on him, when he stared at the mountains within the commune, all he could think of was his mother and his books and how he missed the familiarity of home. Now, he was back home, and his mind was on the commune and everything that needed to be rebuilt. More than anything, he had offered more than once for his new friends to stay here; but that wasn’t ideal for them. This wasn’t their world. Not yet. That fell on Techno, to make this world habitable for everyone. But for now, Niki couldn’t continue swimming in the pool; Scott needed endless fields and countless stars, Tubbo needed his trinkets, and Jack needed the open space. 

Tommy had what he needed though.

“He can’t come back with us, Toms.” That was Tubbo, but his tone was surprisingly devoid of his usually snippy attitude. “He’s not one of us.” 

Technoblade had been honest with everyone about his intermix heritage soon after their temporary arrangement. It had been a very interesting discussion; opening a level of trust that wasn’t previously there but also created a false pretence of being a ‘better hybrid’ (as Tubbo had noted bitterly at the time). Eventually it had become the norm, Techno even being teased for not having abilities like the rest of them. 

It had though created a bridge of trust with June as the hybrids felt her intentions for them were honest as they came from such a personal place. She was kind to all of them and they never pointed out her lack of abilities. 

“You remember when we met?” Techno suddenly asked the three, gaining their interest. He looked to Tommy. “You were only worth three pieces of gold.” 

Tommy cackled at the crude memory. “You remember that? Hell, I was underpriced!” 

“You definitely were,” Techno agreed. With everything the Avian had put him through he had been worth every single credit Techno had put down that day in the market. When he really thought about these last few months, it came down to these three. These three hybrid kids that caused a ruckus he couldn’t ignore in the marketplace, garnering his attention and sympathy like he hadn’t experienced before. Just the way Tommy had yelled, the fierceness in his blue eyes despite being tied down–it gave Techno that strength to finally be that reason again; to put forward his actions like he had when he took the key. 

It was Tommy’s choice to go to the human village to begin with; the one who had stood his ground against the poachers that Techno had admired. The way he disregarded Techno’s warnings and stayed in the next village, ultimately getting tripped up in the bread scandal that got Techno to chase him down. Even when he was finally able to walk away, Techno didn’t. He followed the hybrid into the forest that had brought him before Philza. 

“Uh, Blade?”

Techno blinked, realising he had been staring at the kids for an abnormal amount of time. 

“Sorry,” he held up a weak hand apologetically, “just thinking.” 

Tommy suddenly closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Technoblade tightly, burying his face into Techno’s shirt. His small wings fell limp down his back as he furrowed his talons into the fabric. 

“Please come back with us.” 

Techno, mindful of the smaller’s feathers and wings, held him close. He knew he still had a lot of work to do here, but he couldn’t deny how much he missed the commune. He hadn’t belonged there at the time. He was an outcast, they were wary of him, but he had a home there now. They were family now. He had a home with Tommy and Niki and Philza and thinking he would go days without seeing them was a pressure that was ever so slowly crushing him. 

“I will.” 

Tommy looked up at him, blue eyes wide. “You mean that?” 

“I’d miss the chance of you three landing me in more trouble.”  

“You mean it!” Tommy broke out into a grin, his talons nearly tearing at the fabric the way he grasped onto it like a lifeline.

Tubbo crossed his arms. “We don’t need a babysitter.” 

“No, but I’m sure you could use a duel partner. And someone to cover for when you do get in trouble.” 

Ranboo snorted in amusement. “Trouble does seem to follow us.” 

Tubbo raised a brow at Techno before giving his own smirk. “You’re finally gonna have that duel with me?” 

“I’d have to come back to the commune.” 

“What? You don’t have–” Tubbo got cut off by Ranboo sneaking an elbow into his side. He wheezed a huff before glaring up at the other. “Yeah. Okay.” 

“Yeah!” Tommy cheered, wings flapping excitedly. “Blade’s gonna come back with us!” 

“Well, I’m not gonna let you guys have all the fun with rebuilding the place. My chance to put my own spin on it.” 

“Better chipper up! Not many survived a duel with me.” Tubbo boasted cheerfully, wings buzzing in excitement. “My title of Reigning Champion precedes me.” 

“It is an impressive title,” Techno agreed. “You’ll have to go easy on me.” 

“Nah, I want a real fight!” Tubbo exclaimed happily, wings fanning out. “No going easy!” 

Techno gave a smirk. “Alright. Deal. It’ll be the first thing we do when we head back.” Techno held out a pinky to the bee, an offering he hoped the other to take. 

Tubbo stared and scoffed. “I’m not a child.” 

Techno wanted to retort that no, the Bumblebee very much was a child no matter how the events in his life may have aged him; he wanted the three to be able to finally slow down and not be rushed to grow up. If he had his way, they could enjoy being children. 

“You’re not,” Techno relented, because he knew all too well about the frustration of being infantalised, “but humour me. This is an important human tradition. It’s unbreakable.” 

Tubbo looked stoic, refusing to give in before Ranboo gave him a soft nudge. With a sigh and the ghost of a smile, Tubbo linked pinkies with Techno. 

“There. Happy?” 

“Immensely.” Techno stared at the bee. How small he was compared to the other two teens. “Thank you.” 

He pulled away from Tubbo, the bee looking satisfied in their promised duel. He looked towards the other two, suddenly wondering whereabouts the House they were going. 

“We’re off to the pool room to see Niki,” Ranboo suddenly informed as if they could read Techno’s mind. “Care to join?” 

Techno did need to see Niki. She had, aside from his mother, known of Philza’s surprise. After all, she had helped him draft the message for the plaque. But Techno didn’t want an audience when he spoke to the Merling; best to keep that private. He would get to see her when he brought her her dinner. 

“Thank you, but tell Niki I will see her later. I need to speak to my mother first.” 

He bid the three a brief goodbye as he would see them again shortly for dinner before making his way towards the library. He was sure he’d find his mother in there, if not then it would be the greenhouse. It was her two favourite places to spend her time, and just as he expected, she was there. 

His mother sat on one of the sofas before the grand fireplace, a small fire crackling. The lamps in the room were alight, washing the room in a warm yellow glow. She was wrapped in a simple black gown; a colour she was often wearing during the search for her missing husband; her mourning broadcasted to the public. 

A book sat open on her lap, the beginning pages folded over, evident that she had recently started this read. She seemed engrossed in it; her long hair braided and falling down next to her on the sofa.

“Mom?” 

“Technoblade.” His mother closed the book she was currently reading, placing it on her lap as she gestured for her son to enter the room. “Are you fetching me for dinner?” 

“I don’t think the kitchen is ready yet.” 

His mother hummed, looking at him as if she could already tell what was on his mind. “Something is troubling you.” 

“You know me too well.” 

“I better! I’m your mother! You came from me.” 

“Mother.” 

“Well it’s true!” June laughed as Techno took his place next to her on the sofa. She smiled at him, reaching out to lift his chin. “What is it, darling?” 

“It’s not right keeping it from you. About what happened to father.” 

His mother said nothing. Her hands fell to her lap, clasping together atop the book cover. Techno had her undivided attention, looking at him to continue. He sighed, not exactly sure how he was going to say this. He did have guilt for what he did, but it was outweighed by his morals. He knows it was the right decision, that it was his father or them. He had protected his mother and brothers and Techno would never apologise for that. But he was lying to his mother. 

“I told father we were intermix.” 

His mother gave no indication of her true feelings. She sat, rigid and silent as she let Techno speak. 

“He was so mad. He…tried to kill me and…he threatened to do the same to everyone else. To you and I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t let him come back.” Techno ran a hand through his hair, his nails scratching at his scalp, brushing over where the gash had fully healed. “We didn’t lose him. We left him.” 

June was never one to lash out. She had always been the opposite of Billium; quiet, reserved, preferring to stay in the background. His mother had always anchored his father when he’d lose himself to his anger, had always looked the other way to his dealings. But even with that, Techno wondered if this would be the thing to get her to finally yell. To learn that her sons had abandoned her injured husband and left him for dead. Who wouldn’t be horrified and furious to learn that? 

His mother gripped the book in her lap, her nerves showing through with the way she chewed the inside of her lip. Techno expected tears; but none fell. 

June swallowed, blinking quickly as she eyed her son again. 

“I figured something of an indeterminate nature happened. Afterall, becoming separated? That was extremely vague.” 

“Wait,” Techno paused, studying his mother, her lack of expression giving away more than intended, “you knew?” 

June gave a smile, one that was small and sad, a depressing sight. “You were never good at lying, sweetie.” 

Techno dug his nails into his palm, hearing his father’s mocking tone in his head of the same thing. A terrible liar. That he couldn’t tell a lie to save his life. And it seemed he couldn’t even tell a lie to put his mother at ease. 

“I don’t–why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.” 

“But, you send a search team every day into the mountains. You’re adamant about finding him.” 

“Your father isn’t the only one who knows how to look presentable in front of the public.” His mother fiddled with the book in her lap, a clear sign of her nerves at her dark admittance. “I need to play the part. I loved your father, know that I did. I still do. But the safety of my children is my priority. I know for you two to have returned without him, something happened. Something you couldn’t tell me.” 

“So, you knew? This whole time? And yet you send parties to search the mountains.” 

“Technoblade. I send them because I know they won’t find anything.” 

“How are you so sure–?” Techno asked just as the answer popped into his head. He had communicated with his mother prior to this happening. They had spoken and Cyber and himself had told their mother as much. “The phone.” 

His mother nodded. “You called me. And unless they have phones in the mountains, I know your father isn’t there.” 

Techno sat there, speechless. He had never realised just how cunning his mother was; how suited she was for this lifestyle. The way she managed to adapt and blend in like a chameleon, become whatever was needed of her. It was something frightening but admittedly admirable. From the way his mother had suspected it was him all those years ago who had let the Elytra free – to have even placed the key where he would find it; and now sending servants to find nothing. 

His mother sighed, running her fingers down the length of the book spine. 

“You must see me differently. After everything I kept hidden. Trust me when I say my priority was always you boys.” 

Techno nodded, because that had been his priority too. When his father had threatened their family; had openly stated how he was willing to clean the slate of them, Techno had seen red. Did he have remorse for leaving his father behind? It was difficult.

At times he did. When he remembered how his father talked of him one day taking his place within the business, his eagerness to bring Techno to his first fight at the rings, the way he had taught him to ride a horse–but it was the same man who led him close with a false sense of security only to literally stab him. 

And he had the faint scar to prove it. The length of that iron blade that was now safely tucked atop the mantle in his room. 

“Techno? What is it?” 

Techno blinked. His mother was staring at him, looking worried. He wasn’t sure how long he had been quiet for, maybe an abnormal amount of time. But he gave her a smile, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. 

“I was just thinking.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“About what?” 

“Philza told me I had a place within the commune. And when I was there, I just wanted to come home. I wanted you to know I was fine, and now that you do…” 

His mother was nodding, a small smile pulling at her lips. “You want to go back.” 

“I know there’s much to do. I’m the one who started the coalition. I don’t want to stop my work with integrating hybrids and intermix individuals into society. But, maybe I can still do that. Do both?” 

“Techno. This life was right for me. I made the choice to come here. If you feel there is a different place where you fit, you follow that. I’ll always be here if you need me. Don’t stay here if you’re unhappy.” 

“It’s not that I’m unhappy–” 

His mother shushed him then, giving a wave with her hand. “You go where you need to be.” 

“Thank you, Mom.” Techno stood up, running his hands over his shirt. “I’m going to wash up before dinner.” 

“Alright, dear.” 

Techno moved to leave the library with the intent to go to his room. As he moved down the hall he passed those heavy oak doors; pausing in his steps as he neared them. Strange. One of the doors was left ajar. Not even a little like someone hadn’t closed the door behind them, but with a notable gap as if leaving it open was the intention. 

Techno didn’t know anyone to enter this room. Philza had been out all day, he had just seen his mother and no one else was partial to it, unless Cyberknife had gone in. But, as Techno neared the doors, the office lights were shut meaning no one was in there and Cyber wasn’t one to carelessly leave their father’s office doors open like this. 

Techno stuck his head in, almost immediately smacked with a faceful of feathers. He shouted in surprise, hand reaching for the light switch. 

It was a crow. In fact, the room was full of them. An entire murder was lingering, clicking and chittering as Techno stepped into the room. It wasn’t a question of how the crows got in as the large window that framed his father’s desk was wide open. The real question was why they were in here. 

Techno moved towards the window, reaching for the latch and locked it, eyes staring up at the late afternoon sky. He remembered when he longed to see Philza fly that high. 

A glint caught his eye. It was funny how perceptive people really were especially in familiar environments. His father kept Merling scales on the walls but nothing that had caught the light at the window like this. 

He turned, seeing something shine from between the pages left on his father’s desk. 

As Techno lifted the papers, a small item fell from between the pages, clattering onto his desk. 

He paused, looking at the item as if it had personally offended him, the nearest two crows giving a hiss. There, somehow tucked between the pages of forgotten work was a familiar pendulum.

Tentatively, Technoblade placed the papers down in favour of grabbing the chain of the pendulum. Carefully he lifted the item, almost surprised when it began to move in a gradual circle. He dropped it back onto the desk, eyeing the item suspiciously. 

Now how the hell did that get in here?