Things That Need To Pass (passerine!Technoblade x OC) {COMPLETED}

The Closing Curtain

(3rd person POV)

"What are you doing?" Wilbur repeated.

Philza turned slowly towards the tower's threshold, where Wilbur stood with one hand on the jamb and the other around Techno's shoulders. Wilbur was the only force keeping Techno upright at the moment;

By the look on Philza's face, he must have expected Techno to weigh Wilbur down more with the novelty of his mortality, ignorant to the fact that Techno's sheer stubbornness was more than enough fuel to get him up that torturous flight of stairs.

Sure, Techno felt as if each step had been hewn into this damned tower with every intent to antagonize him and him specifically, but he was here now, witnessing Philza about to make another undoubtedly big mistake, and that was all that mattered.

"Yes," Dream said, all former smugness wiped clean from his face. "Tell him exactly what you're doing, Philza, where you're about to go—"

"Shut up," Wilbur snapped, his eyes never wavering from his father. "This doesn't concern you, you nosy piece of shit. Father." Philza, a god among gods among men, flinched at the harshness in Wilbur's tone. "What did he mean? Where are you going?"

When Philza didn't respond, a look of horrified fury dawned on Wilbur's face.

"You're leaving," Wilbur said, as if the act of saying it might make it false. "You're actually leaving me again."

"Wil—" Philza began, loosening his grip on Dream for just one second.

Techno knew a thing or two about stupid mistakes. That was one of them.

The moment Philza's hands slackened, Dream pulled free and was gone, taking to the skies on his invisible wings. It was almost comical, really, to think that the god that had stood over them so arrogantly just hours before would now scramble to escape the second everyone's backs were turned.

If it was Philza's ascension had been the cause of the shift, then Techno would gladly sacrifice his immortality ten times over just to see the green bastard scared shitless.

"Fuck," Philza cursed under his breath as he spread his own wings, about to give chase, but before he could even lift one foot off the tower floor, Wilbur and Techno had already taken their positions.

It took four seconds.

One. Wilbur nocked an obsidian-fletched arrow into his bow, drawing his arm back as he aimed towards the lone figure in the burning sky.

Two. The linked iron chains of Techno's whip rattled as it unfurled from his hand like a metal ribbon. He took one end of it and spun it in a vicious circle, the wind whirling around him, lifting his hair from his face.

He was almost delirious with pain, and he did not have a fraction of the strength he used to have, but if Wilbur was still standing, then Techno would be right beside him. 

Three. Wilbur breathed in, out. His hands were steady and sure.

He was a king, and he would surrender to no god.

Four. Wilbur let the arrow fly.

It sang through the air, sang past the Green God's head, not close enough to make him bleed, but close enough to make him pause. It was all they needed. In that moment of his foolish hesitation, Technoblade swung his whip out like a fisherman casting a hook into the deep dark.

It blazed like a comet in reverse, arching up into the shattered sky instead of towards the burning ground, justice made metal. It caught around the heel of a god and made him mortal in his fear.