𝕄ℂ𝕐𝕋 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

𝕋𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕟𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 ~ ℍ𝕠𝕘 ℍ𝕦𝕟𝕥

MCYT: Technoblade

Minecraft or Irl: Minecraft (Most of what I do now will be Minecraft or AUs)

Type: I literally don't know, cause it's not exactly platonic but still

Pronouns: He/They

Notes: Y/N = Your name

Premise: It's the SADIST animatic

Trigger warnings: Swearing and gore description (Don't worry, I'm not too good at that though, so it ain't exactly graphic)

Y/N's POV

I couldn't stand the silence. The anticipation. The ignorance.

Phil didn't spare me a second glance, staring intently at the harbour which we could just make out from the balcony of his house. Any second now, the self proclaimed "Butcher Army" would return in their wooden rowing boats. And they'd either have Techno, or they wouldn't. The wind appeared once or twice, its fluttering fingers caressing the faces of me and the man next to me, making us squint, closing our eyes against the sharp sting of air.

The air smelt of salt, the faint tinge of sea spray wafting up into the centre of L'manberg. The town square was gathered neatly below, the fabric covering of the stalls lining the side flapping aimlessly in the breeze. Everything else looked at peace, so why couldn't the people be?

Phil caught my arm, wordlessly pointing to a speck on the horizon. I frowned, focusing my view. Peering just offset to the left of Niki's bakery, there was movement. And as predicted, a small fleet of boats was cutting through the glassy water, headed to dock in L'manberg. I couldn't make out a wave of bright pink hair that denoted my friend, but there was little more than a shadow of those rowing to be seen.

My breath caught in my throat, a thousand words, a thousand questions blossoming in my mouth, but withering and dying on my lips. What was there to say? There are very few things in this world that are black and white, but the compromising of Techno's safety was one.

They'd ransacked Phil's house a few days prior, finding the fateful compass that would lead him to the retired Blood God's home. The Piglin-Halfling's father was powerless to resist or warn. He'd been ordered to stay put, under house arrest, and I with him, knowing of my ties to Technoblade. In situations like this before, when we'd been the rulers of an illustrious empire, the black wings curled on Phil's back could have ferried us there in a second. We could have gotten our friend out and ran. Not anymore. Ebony feathers were perpetually ruffled and unusable, courtesy of shielding Wilbur from L'manberg's explosion.

Techno wasn't quite defenseless, but the Butcher Army would have surprise to hold as an advantage.

"Get the potions." It was the first thing the Angel of Death had said to me all day. I hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, not quite expecting to be spoken to.

"Which ones?" I mustered myself to reply.

"Invisibility and swiftness. If this goes south, we need a reliable getaway." I nodded once, understanding. This was serious. Phil had tried to be cooperative, but when it came to his son, he would have no reservations in disobeying the orders of the President.

I turned inside from the balcony, finding my heart pounding against my chest. They weren't back yet, but I felt the need to sneak down the spruce stairs, eyes narrowed on the outline of the hidden chest, peeking into view. I headed straight for the bookcase, removing the fake spines of tattered novels, revealing the secret storage behind. The sunset didn't hit this side of the house, making it dark. I didn't dare light a torch or lantern, leaving me to root around in the oaken container until I grasped the two vials. But that was the problem, there were only two. One swiftness, one invisibility. I was about to go back up, inform Phil of the bad news, when a voice interrupted me.