Chapter Text
The small mountain on the outskirts of the SMP territory was familiar as Techno waded out of the cold ocean shallows, wiping a dripping strand of hair from his eyes and clutching his trident in his free hand. It was the same small, idyllic, dramatic meeting place he’d met Dream twice prior, and he couldn’t find it in himself to really be surprised.
The warrior hummed contemplatively as he flicked his wrist, stepping up onto the sandy beach. A warmth flooded his body; comforting and smooth as a wave- a ripple of heat from deep within his core that raised the temperature of his skin and drove any dampness from his hair and clothes that remained from the watery trip.
Normally he wouldn’t bother, not caring for the small pit of sleepiness the action always left behind. But he was going to meet Dream after all; the most dramatic man that Techno knew. He could concede this for the sake of appearances.
Now dry to satisfaction, Technoblade slipped the trident into its rightful sling on his back, looking up at the mountain- a large, slightly cliffy hill if he was making a point to be accurate- and considered the best way to climb it. A mutual love for showmanship warred with laziness in his stomach as he sighed, grabbed a rock outcropping, and began to climb. Dream’s theatrics usually resulted in a need to scale some sort of grand structure, and Techno wasn’t sure if that was admirable or annoying.
If he ever made an impressive entrance or needed some wild meeting place- it was going to be on ground level. Or underground, Techno silently vowed, jamming a steel toed boot between two boulders and hoisting himself further up the small cliff side. After all, climbing in silence was quite boring. Nothing attention grabbing about five minutes of pausing to search for the next foothold or releasing the occasional annoyed grunt to his audience of open air and zero. No, the hidden igloo leading to the Syndicate meeting room was far superior.
His mind drifted, as it always did. Techno considered himself a very suspicious man. Maybe paranoid was a more accurate word. He did- in fact- think of every situation as more or less a potential threat. Now most of the time, that ‘threat’ he’d imagined and worried as being genuine turned out to be laughable at best. Technoblade was the definition of overprepared . But it had kept him alive this long, and he was proud of how untouchable a bit of planning made him.
This situation was odd, Techno decided as he swung himself up onto another ledge and glanced upwards. He was getting close now- he could see Dream’s small figure further up, cross legged in the grass, staring idly out to sea. No weapons in sight beside the sword sheathed at his hip. Techno relaxed a tiny bit. He’d be the first to admit- well no, that was definitely a lie. He’d be the last to admit it, but he was concerned. Dream’s favor haunted him at night. Technoblade detested being in debt. He was a man of ideals; followed his own moral code to the end of the earth. And despite holding his values in higher regard than friendships, Techno believed in giving what was owed.
And he owed his life to Dream.
That alone made his stomach twist. Not that it was Dream- the man was quite frankly, a great ally. Powerful, with similar goals, quick to offer supplies and plans and to carry his own weight. Not a friend, though. Techno didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, which was probably only a few feet. Regardless- Techno didn’t want to ever owe his life to anyone.
Not even Phil.
A life debt was something so dangerous, something that twisted his cold dead heart and made him feel so annoyingly small. It made him feel like he owed something big, and Techno despised guilt. Guilt was a weakness he couldn’t afford when his values lost him loyalties and had him fighting against the world. Guilt and anger rested exactly side by side in his limited pool of understandable emotions. Guilt made him leave himself vulnerable.
Guilt was looking at Phil on one life and handing over a totem- infinitely valuable, an entire life! And still forcing it into his hands.
Guilt was looking at Tommy in torn clothes, with darkened eyes and a bitter, cracking smile and fury in his clenched fists and offering a partnership despite their terribly clashing ideals.
Guilt was looking at a friendless ghost, too far gone to notice hurt and yet unfailingly optimistic and sighing and speaking back in turn. Offering fondness Techno had felt for the man that used to be.
(“That’s great Ghostbur.” exasperated despite himself, instead of furious like he should be. “I’m going to die, Ghostbur.” He leaned tiredly against cold iron bars, and his cold dead heart smiled despite itself when Ghostbur’s bright grin damped to something almost like concern; an uncertain puppy confusion.)
Techno would be the first to admit he’d expected Dream’s favor to involve Tommy. He had known, back in that showdown before the nether portal-
“UUUUH- Take some gaps, take some gaps!” Tommy’s eyes were blown wide as he unnecessarily shoved the golden fruit into Techno’s hand. Techno quirked a lip, amused despite the masked man who stood threateningly before them, despite the slightly more than mildly concerning situation.
He’d known Dream wouldn’t take him up on the ‘offer’ to cash in the favor. In fact, looking back on it- he’d really been threatening the man, hadn’t he? Techno winced as his shoulder popped and he raised himself up another few feet, seeking out another handhold. That probably hadn’t been wise, at the time. It had been worth it though, he’d decided. For Tommy.
Something uncomfortable twisted in his chest, and Techno came to the conclusion then that he didn’t have the time, or want, to think deeply about Tommy right now. L’manberg was gone, and Tommy had made his choice. Techno needed to stop dwelling on the stupid teenager.
He pulled his thoughts back on track. He’d expected Dream’s favor to have something to do with turning Tommy over. He was more than aware that for some reason, Dream seemed to obsess over the kid. To Techno, it seemed like an unnecessary waste of time and effort, to try so hard to thwart one kid. Really- he didn’t understand Dream’s game at all. The man had the majority of the server under his thumb and yet seemed to do nothing but try to keep one random, lanky teen out of the country that didn’t particularly like Tommy anyways.
It didn’t seem like the most strategic usage of time and resources.
It didn’t quite sit right with him either. Perhap if it had been an adult Dream had been terrorizing, Techno wouldn’t have cared. But Tommy was young. Disturbingly young. Hadn’t the child soldiers been through quite enough already?
Technoblade had been gearing himself up to have to choose. Choose between the favor and Tommy, choose between his values and ideals- and a relationship.
Like always, something in him whispered, and Techno suppressed a wince.
It kept him up at night, on the rare occasion he actually tried to get some sleep. Tommy was a liability at worst. A rather shit partner at best. Rude, loud, stole his stuff, left his doors open, broke his things. Gave away their positions, caused a ruckus, wouldn’t shut up about the disks and was prone to very inconveniently timed bouts of what Techno could only say were probably PTSD episodes.
Not a very advantageous ally. And Dream was everything Tommy was not.
But Tommy had been a friend, and those were so very rare.
Technoblade did not like moral dilemmas.
But that was all in the past now, he gladly decided as he finally- finally pulled himself up the final little lip of the small mountain and straightened, brushing the dirt from his sore hands off on the thighs of his pants, lifting his head against the strong ocean breeze to see Dream’s back. Tommy was long gone with his Tubbo, the favor hadn’t been called in at the time, and Techno was back to only worrying about his goals and Phil. As it should be.
“Hello,” Dream said calmly, not turning his head. Techno huffed a tiny laugh at the theatrics and made his way across the snowy, grassy mountain top, watching Dream roll his shoulders, crack his neck and climb to his feet.
The Admin looked as he always did- which was to say an odd mix between a fantasy warlord from Techno’s novels- and homeless.
Dream was dressed for camouflage, as always. An outfit of browns and greens; sturdy lace up leather boots (That Techno wasn’t jealous of) and most of his top disguised by the poncho-y cloak just a few shades too light to be described as moss, that draped over his shoulders, arms and front; trailed extra long in the back like a flowing cape and draped over his head in a hood, leaving only a few whispers of dirty blonde hair to peek out above the mask.
He looked more like someone who might be hermitting in the woods then a politician or warrior, and Techno knew Dream was both.
“Hullo,” Techno greeted back when their eyes finally met- or didn’t, really, because of the mask, but Dream’s head had tilted to imply eye contact and that was good enough for the piglin. “You quite like this mountain, don’t you? Just couldn’t pick a place that didn’ involve half an hour of climbing?”
Techno stared in amazement at the armful of valuables Dream was offering him. Netherite, diamonds- A god apple. Suspicion warred with gratitude as Techno slipped the invaluable resources into his bag, more than a little thrown by the unwarranted generosity. If Dream wanted to buy his hand in an alliance, he was certainly on the right path. Their first meeting and this was what the Admin offered already?
“Where would be the fun in that?” Dream laughed like they were old friends. “I think the climb is worth it for this view when we talk.” The man threw a gloved hand out towards the stretch of brilliantly blue sea behind him, the nearly completed sunrise still throwing flecks of gold and faded orange into the pale blue sky. It was quite pretty, Techno would admit. He could occasionally take a moment to look at the world through a poet's eye, and the mountain came straight from an artist's dream.
“Both times I’ve come here before, you’ve given me something,” Techno quirked an eyebrow curiously, and Dream smiled.
“Here.”
Curiously, Techno accepted the paper- the map, he realized, from Dream’s hand. His eyes swept across the pen sketched landscape, zeroing in on the area marked with a rough circle.
‘Woodland Mansion’
Techno’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyes snapped up. Dream grinned widely at him.
“Heard you were totem searching during raids,” he laughed. “The evokers don’t leave the mansions, not in these lands. You won’t find any with the pillagers. But here…” He trailed off with a small shrug.
“This is...this is quite acceptable,” Techno said, eyes trailing back down to the map despite himself. Totems. Gods he wanted them. “What do you want in return?”
Dream waved him away, posture uncaring. “Oh no- this is a gift. I’ve heard rumors there’s...a bounty, on your head. That people might be after it. I don’t want you to die, Techno.”
“How sweet,” Techno shot back sarcastically, tucking the map away securely at his side. But there was no heat, and Dream just laughed.
“That is true,” The Admin declared, motioning Techno a step closer, the sound of the wind lessening as the distance between them decreased. “And I have something for you again, actually.”
“No hard feelings about the- about Tommy?” Techno asked suspiciously, tilting his head. Though he and Dream had really been nothing but amicable, Techno knew they had never truly had mutual allies. Dream had hated Wilbur, Tommy.
“The Tommy thing fixed itself,” Dream replied with a small shrug, head tilting to imply he was staring off into the distance. “I’m slightly bitter you lied, though.”
“Sorry,” Techno said unapologetically. “Beneficial at the time.”
“That didn’t turn out so well in the end,” Dream said mildly, and ow. Okay. Didn’t need to rub salt in that still annoyingly open wound.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Techno’s voice went frigid, and far more bitter than he intended.
“Oh,” Dream replied, head moving back to face Techno completely, posture softening slightly. “I didn’t mean that as passive aggressively as it sounded.” He sounded annoyingly genuine, and Techno did not come here to have a heart to heart with the server Admin over the teenager’s betrayal. This was getting dangerously close to talking about emotions and Techno wasn’t sure he was to that level of friendship with anyone, least of all Dream.
“Are we done talking about Tommy?” Techno sighed instead of acknowledging the half-apology, shifting uncomfortably. Dream took pity on him and nodded.
“Yes- yes. Moving on from him. I think our business together is...drawing to an end? You seem like a man who likes mutual goals and with L’manberg gone- we’ve done what we needed to do.”
Techno paused, then nodded.
“That’s true,” He admitted.
“Let's cut to the chase,” Dream sighed, a hand rising to scratch at his head idly through the fabric of his hood. “That favor. I’m guessing you don’t like debt, Technoblade.”
Techno hummed noncommittally, not about to admit weakness. A bubble of thoroughly mixed curiosity and concern swirled up his gut and settled in his chest. That familiar blend of anticipation and also dread. “Are you cashing that in?”
“Yes,” Dream nodded, smiling faintly. “And then we both can move on from this, go about our own business.”
“A clean slate. Neither of us will owe the other anything, after this,” Techno said- a demand disguised as a slightly leading question. Dream nodded firmly, agreement etched into the determined tilt of his lips. He was a surprisingly emotive man.
“Neither of us will owe the other anything,” Dream echoed. “It has been a pleasure, Technoblade. Destroying L’manberg with you.”
“That was fun,” Techno chuckled, swiping away a strand of hair that had been dragged free by the sharp breeze. “Hit me up if you have any other governments to abolish.”
Dream smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The green-clothed man stretched and seemed to fight back a yawn before he shuffled his feet, shifting from relatively confident to something that seemed slightly...embarrassed. Huh. Techno’s eyes bored into Dream, curiosity peaked. It was perhaps the most uncertain he’d even seen the Admin look. Posture slightly closed, slightly unsure.
“So about that favor,” Dream chuckled, lips quirked. “This is, ah...well, anticlimactic, I supposed. I’ve created a lot of build up about this.”
“You have,” Techno agreed, resting a hand idly on the sword at his hip. It quite genuinely wasn’t meant as a threat- it was for comfort if anything. Techno didn’t like having to read people on a good day, and he was thoroughly confused. This mysterious meeting, the topic of the favor finally being breached, Dream’s odd, uncharacteristically….timid behavior.
It was all strange, and intriguing, and running his fingers over the worn leather of his sword brought a sense of grounding calm.
“Well...ah- well, I need you to be a guinea pig for me, Technoblade.”
A beat of silence, then two.
“....uh. What?” Techno said dumbly, blinking at the other man. “Like- literally? Cause I can’t shapeshift, man. Maybe ask the orange fox kid-”
“No, no,” Dream laughed, hand going to his hip. He had a belt of potions at all times- all of the people on the server prepared for combat did. Techno himself had a bag of them slung across his back. The bottle Dream lifted wasn’t a color Techno immediately recognized, and the piglin raised a curious eyebrow. If he knew anything, it was potions- he brewed them religiously. It was a dark, dull, blueish grey- something that would immediately put Techno on edge as perhaps being Weakness- but the color didn’t quite fit. The potion lacked saturation, bleached of hue.
“...what is that?” Techno asked, curiosity bleeding into his voice.
“This,” Dream said, and he sounded almost proud- “Is my creation.” The man’s smile turned more wide and genuine than perhaps Techno had ever seen. He seemed almost hyper, vibrating with energy.
“I’ve never seen a color like that,” Techno admitted, and Dream offered the bottle. After a second, Techno reached out, accepted it. The glass was cool to the touch- the potion wasn’t warm like Strength, or bubbling like a Potion of the Turtle Master. Nor did it faintly swirl as Slow Falling did. The potion was perfectly still, like completely stagnant water; that same deep, unsaturated blue. It was thoroughly unrecognizable. “Is this...a new potion?”
“You have no idea how long that took!” Dream laughed, sounding elated . He clapped his hands together once, clasped in front of him. “The trial and error- oh my god.”
“You made a new potion,” Techno repeated, deadpan. Stunned as he stared deep into the Admin’s white mask. “How- what- I thought people had already experimented to the max.”
“I did,” Dream nodded cheerily, ignoring the second comment, smile wide and toothy and the man seemed to nearly vibrate. Technoblade stared at the Admin, thoroughly shocked to see him display so much emotion. So much excitement. “And I want to test it on you.”
“Ummm...nahhh,” Techno replied doubtfully, staring at the bottle in his hand like it might bite him. “This looks like some sort of weird, unshiny oil, man. I don’t wanna drink your experiment. That doesn’t sound beneficial to my extended health. Like at all.”
“Oh come on,” Dream’s lips fell into a pout. “Don’t think I just gave you something straight off the brewing stand. It isn’t going to poison you, I tested it on myself enough to make sure of that. The last thing I want is you dead.”
“Gee, thanks.” Techno snorted, studying the bottle once more, swirling it idly with small circles of his wrist. “I’m glad this potion won’t kill me. What is it, anyways?”
“I haven’t named it,” Dream rubbed at his hood again, voice sheepish. “It has potential use in combat- that’s why I’m having you use it, Techno. I can try it on myself as much as I want, but I need a bigger sample pool and not only do you owe me a favor- you’re a warrior. Combat is your middle name.”
“It’s not, actually. I don’t have a middle name,” Techno blurted absently, looking down at the bottle. “Dream, you have to realize how disbelievable this is. You have a favor. From me. One you wanted to hold onto so bad you didn’t even use it to get Tommyinnit, the man you were putting all of your effort into hunting down and you’re using it now just to get me to drink a fringe potion?”
A moment of silence stretched between them, and the wind whistled absently, oblivious to the two men’s conversation. Techno’s mind weighed in at about equal parts curiosity and suspicion. This was a very sketchy situation. However, Techno had to admit that as far as behavior went- Dream had been more unconditionally accommodating to him then anyone else on the server, besides perhaps Phil. But Phil was the exception. Dream didn’t seem to have a reason to be as generous and helpful as he had this entire time. And for his favor he just wanted Techno to drink a potion?
To be quite honest, Techno was getting off light. Dream was being scammed , if this was truly what he was spending his favor on. Techno was in disbelief that Dream could possibly be using this to so little an advantage, and that should have been raising alarm bells. It was raising alarm bells.
Technoblade was also a very curious person, however.
“...Techno,” Dream started, and then sighed softly, turning his head away for a moment, shifting his feet. The picture of awkwardness. “I know our interactions have been nothing but business. Understandable. And I know we were at odds, over Tommy. And I know you are a man of few friends. I admire that. And even if you don’t return it- I consider us friends, Technoblade.”
Techno stared at the other man, thoroughly puzzled.
“...this sounds like emotion talk, Dream,” Techno blurted, voice just a tad frantic. “You know I don’t do friendship. Um. No offense.”
“That’s okay,” Dream hurried to say, a small smile on his lips. An expectant smile, a slightly...sad smile. Like he’d completely foreseen this, and was disappointed, yet accepting. “I’ll make this quick.”
Oh no. There was that dreaded fucking guilt, bubbling deep in Techno’s chest. A friend. Why would Dream consider him a friend? They’d dueled in the past, sure. Had a sort of joking rivalry. Had...blown up a country together.
Was mass terrorizm usually a term that signified friendship?
Techno was in very over his head. Dream was speaking again.
“I’m not asking friendship of you, Technoblade. I’m just...explaining where I stand, I suppose. And maybe this potion seems really insignificant to you, but...it means a lot to me. It does, really.”
“...oh,” Techno replied quietly. An embarrassed silence settled over the two of them, the mountain going quiet and still. “It’s...a combat potion?”
Dream nodded, energy picking back up, like an excited puppy. A giddy smile spread across his lips. “It’s definitely combat applicable,” He said, a vindictive edge slipping into his voice, competitive and satisfied. “Techno, if this works how I think it will…”
Techno raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the bottle once more. He sighed deeply, mind already made up despite himself.
“This won’t kill me? You’re sure?” He asked blandly, even as his fingers moved to pull the cork out of the bottle. He sniffed it curiously. No scent, just the tiniest wisp of steam-like flumes drifting up and dispersing into the wind.
“I could give you a totem to hold, if you’d like,” Dream chuckled, and Techno genuinely considered it for a moment. After a second, he shook his head however.
“Nah.” Techno looked down at the bottle once more, hesitating.
“Bottoms up,” Dream said. “All in one go.” Techno glanced to the side at the unreadable mask, sighed, lifted the bottle to his lips, and chugged.
The potion was the consistency of water; cool and soothing down his throat, with practically no taste. It was shockingly bland, for a magical elixir. He lowered the now empty bottle slowly, considering himself. He didn’t feel any different. He glanced up, and raised an eyebrow as Dream beamed back at him with the widest smile Techno had ever seen.
“I don’t feel anything,” Techno deadpanned.
“Just wait,” Dream laughed, and something twisted nervously in Techno’s stomach. Dream sounded way too pleased with himself. “It takes a few moments to kick in.”
“Did you poison me?” Techno replied, wincing at the faint edge of fear in his voice. Dream threw his head back and laughed, shaking his head.
“No, no,” Dream reassured, waving his hands. “That wouldn’t be any fun. And there would be far easier ways to poison you then trying to get you to down a bottle. I suggest you take a deep breath, by the way.”
“A deep breath-” Techno echoed, and he realized suddenly that this was probably a very, very bad decision.
The potion slammed him like a wall. A complete wave of vertigo that swept his entire body, caused him to stumble- and when the sensation passed Techno realized his entire body felt heavy. A weight like his limbs had been doused in iron, like the very action of lifting his arm was too much work-
Weakness.
The color was wrong. It wasn’t the right color. How could it be Weakness?
But it was.
“You fucker,” Techno snarled, gasping for air, wind knocked from his lungs. “You- you slimy green bitch-”
“Language,” Dream chuckled, and gone was any embarrassment, any warmth from his tone. “Oh Techno. Oh Techno.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in Techno’s throat, and he snarled, yanking his sword free from his sheath, brandishing it towards the admin with crimson eyes that promised pain.
It took a painful amount of effort, and his arm trembled slightly, struggling to support the weight of the sword that usually worked as an extension of his own arm.
“I’ve fought with Weakness before,” Techno laughed, a confidence he didn’t feel bleeding into his words. His heart was pounding, mind racing. That familiar, awful feeling of betrayal swirling through him like a raging storm. “This- this is why I don’t do friendship, Dream.” He spit the word like it left a foul taste in his mouth.
It did, at this point.
“I’m sure you have,” Dream nodded, laughing. He sounded so damn gleeful. So victorious. “But not like this. I wasn’t lying when I said I made this potion, Techno.”
Something that felt so dangerously close to fear flickered through Techno, and he knew the moment it showed on his face. Dream cackled . Laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, laughed until he was wiping tears from his eyes and Techno’s entire body felt like ice. He wasn’t sure he could swing his word without dropping it.
“Oh Techno you are fucked,” Dream giggled, smiling sugar sweet and ice cold.
His words reached Techno through a fog. The Piglin’s body was lead, heavy and stiff and unmoving. Moving his limbs was a near impossible chore, and he stumbled. His mind felt like a vat of bubbling molasses, and he couldn’t think straight. Dream had just drugged him. Drugged him. He needed to kill him. Needed to slam his sword through that masked man’s throat. He needed to run.
“What-” His breath hitched and he stumbled, not quite sure what had happened until his knees slammed into the snow. It crunched beneath him pleasantly, and his head spun. “The- potion-” his breath hitched, lips moving slow and clumsy like he'd been in the cold for far too long.
“A medley of things,” Dream’s voice replied; gleeful. Techno heard footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t quite lift his head enough to look up at the Admin. He was swaying slightly, balance failing. “Weakness. Slowness. Mining Fatigue. I designed it especially for you, you know. You should feel special.”
“...you’re dead,” Techno whispered, feeling the cold sinking through his pants. His head was spinning. He felt vaguely like throwing up, and maybe he needed to. Maybe that would fix this. He-
A boot collided with his stomach and Techno tumbled to the side, gasping for air; staring up at the sky that was blotted out by a figure in green and brown and white. His vision was spinning so bad that Dream was nothing but a blur. “I-I’m going to kill you,” Techno swore, coughing, trying to lift an arm and failing.
Dream laughed and the sound echoed like it was coming down a far, distant tunnel. Techno’s vision flickered from blurry to black and back to a smudge of green and blue.
“That’s what Tommy said,” Dream’s voice snickered. Slightly hysterical. Crazed. It reminded Techno so terribly of Wilbur. “I win, Technoblade.”
The spinning became too much, the buzzing in his ears reaching a crescendo.
He should have told Phil where he was going.
Techno’s eyes drooped closed as his body lost its battle with unconsciousness.