Loud House Experience Chapter 5

Chapter 13

Me (crying): Wow..... a... another t... t... techn....
Chase: Sorry about my dad he's crying because there's another Technoblade tribute
Me: Thanks, son
Chase: No problem

As the King watches the sun set over his enemies' camp, he realizes that this will test his very being.

“The odds are slim,” they tell him.

He smirks, a gleam in his eyes as the vermillion dusk light causes shards of lime, cyan, and violet light to reflect from his crown. He cries out in a loud voice: “There will be blood for the blood, god!”

A slash on his arm renders it useless.

The King keeps fighting.

A stab at the heart, deflected just in time.

The King keeps fighting.

He falls to dodge a blow. His helmet rolls away, revealing his crown.

The King keeps fighting.

He’s unsure of how much longer he can hold them off.

He is forced to kneel before the enemy. They laugh at him, mocking his weakness. “You say you never lose,” they taunt “well, what does it feel like?”

“I haven’t lost” he replies weakly. “This is merely a draw. I bought my people time. They will rally around my command, and you will be defeated by their efforts.”

“But what are they without a king? Their attacks will fail without you.”

“You may strike me down, but no one truly dies until their name is uttered the final time. And I have a feeling my name will long out live yours.”

“Shut up!” The enemy cries. The camp falls silent. “Any last words, oh king?”

“When my people come for you, tell them that having abolished all governments of men, I have ascended to Heaven to take on the Kingdom of God; and that if I had another hundred lives, I would choose to be their king, every single time.”

The King bows his head, accepting the punishment to be enacted. He feels the crown slide slightly upon his head.

The executioner chuckles. “Chin up, King.” He taunts, “Your crown is falling.”

The King nods and does just that. He looks to the clouds, where he will soon ascend. “So long nerds.”

In the vermillion dawning light, there is a soft * thud * combined with a heavier * thunk *. A golden, gem encrusted crown rolls a little ways down the hill. At the bottom, it comes to rest against an assortment of fragrant pink flowers. It’s gold glistens in the sunlight, and the emeralds, sapphires, and amethyst are gilded with reflect slivers of lime, cyan, and violet light upon the field

And so, for as long as the King’s name is uttered, that crown will rest, at peace, among the flowers of the field.

So let the mourners come and let them weep. But let them also remember this: that legends never die.

That TECHNOBLADE never dies.