"Since I met him, he carries more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear," His voice was solemn as he spoke, "He was betrayed, deceived, hurt. Believe me when I say he has already crossed hell, been through it and back. And the only t...
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TECHNOBLADE WAS ALWAYS THE PERSON WHO KEEPS HIS EMOTIONS under a tight lock and key, never the one to show his true emotions due to his reserved personality, and his mask being part of the play. He never showed his true feelings to anyone as to those he considered a friend.
He was always a tough nut to crack.
But in times like these where blood sheds the floor, the very land he stands on covered in everyone's blood but his, he showed his true feelings with no remorse after all he was never one to be dishonest with in the first place.
Thirsty for blood. Just the same color as the ruthlessness of his eyes.
Each praise from the voices comes and goes, always thirsting for more, always craving for more. And he knew there was no stopping it until he succumbs to the desire. He was craving for it too after all.
Now, it seems the voices weren't there anymore. Silent, it was unnerving. Why aren't they saying anything?
Was it because they had enough?
Was it because once in his lifetime, they were speechless?
Or was it because despite all of the blood and chaos around him, the blood in his hands wasn't his?
He should be happy, for once the voices finally gave him the solitude he wanted, the silence he yearned that made him feel he could clear his mind and settle down trying to compose his life back on track again. Seeing where he went wrong.
Or freely bathe in blood without the voices telling him what to do - he should be unfazed while bathing in it like it was only droplets of rain damping his whole body, he should shower in it with such glee.
But it wasn't the case, however.
For the blood on his hands is - for once, something he didn't want to be basking on whether it be on his hands and clothes or being anywhere near it. It made his stomach churn as he stared at the pool of blood around him. For once in his life, he felt sick at the sight of it.
He didn't like seeing the familiar color of red dripping down his fingers, nor the smell of metal.
As the blood and body on his hands belonged to someone he deeply cared about.
And despite the protest that rung around him and his mind, he knew that he was part of the reason why.
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WELCOME TO THIS BOOK !
Thank you for taking your time upon reading the prologue, your audience is quite appreciated.
As for this book, I want to say that this will contain very heavy themes circulating around ANGST so please if you aren't comfortable with the topics partaking to death, violence, and anything to related to as such I suggest you leave now. Please heed my warning.
This book is centered around the DreamSMP with a twist of Greek Mythology. Though faint topics will be included since I will try my best to stick to the original plot. (And might be adding bits of Passerine! Technoblade).
Until further notice, this book is only published here in Wattpad and Archive of Our Own, both by @lunaireee. So if anyone tries to plagiarize my work, please tell me immediately. And if any of the said content creators on this book (specifically Technoblade or any people part of the SMP) wants to get this taken down then I will do so immediately.
Without further adieu, please wait until the next chapters are released! (I'm very busy with school work as of late.)
