Archive of Our Own ^beta

Uneasiness runs through the herd, filling the air with huffs and nervous stomps. The anxiety spills into Techno, buzzing within his veins. He tries to stand up straighter, broaden his shoulders, and present a front that won’t be knocked over and gutted immediately by whatever threat is privy to present itself. But his insides jitter all the faster, tripping over themselves at what could happen.

There’s not too many things that can be a marked threat to the entire herd. After all, ravagers don’t have many predators. Not when they’re all together like this.

But Techno’s not exactly as big or strong as a ravager. And being among them almost makes him more of a target than if he wasn’t. The weakest link by a long shot, far too close to human than a ravager should be. Most threats to humans probably don’t even register to ravagers.

Being alone is far more dangerous than being with them, though. And in a way, they’re his family. For as long as he can remember, he’s lived with them. They take care of him, in some ways.

Techno will do his best to pull his weight, because he has to. He’ll also try to protect his herd, any way that he can. Because he wants to.

Before the threat, whatever it is, presents itself fully, Techno stands up and starts squinting around. Humans are at least smarter than ravagers, that’s fair to say. If he can figure out what’s happening before it happens, maybe the danger can be circumvented.

That would be best. Obviously Techno doesn’t want anyone in the herd getting hurt or something. There’s not much they can do if that happens. It’s survival of the fittest…

Nothing seems to be wrong around the little clearing. Techno’s come to trust the instincts of the ravagers though. If something is making all of their hackles rise like this, scaring them out of their nests, it’s not nothing. 

But there’s no obvious footsteps that often precede pillager raids. No grunting of wild animals, aside from those in his own herd. Not even the clomping of rival ravagers trying to get into their territory. As far as Techno can tell, everything is fine.

Nervously, he blows his bushy bangs out of his eyes. They fall right back into place, stuck slightly poofy because of the horns sticking out of either side of his head. That doesn’t stop him from wanting to do it again and again, a pointless, nervous gesture.

Instead, a loud screeching rises up from behind him, sounding like nothing he’s ever heard before. He jumps, before whirling around, searching for whatever the heck could be making that. It’s not a stone’s throw from the clearing, but definitely not far either. Too close.

Just as the sound starts to die off, the sky cracks with an explosion. There’s an orb of color and light spraying around it, red and blue and yellow. Techno is frozen for a second, mesmerized by the astounding sight and ringing in his ears. 

The herd around him obviously doesn’t feel the same way. Before the explosion begins to fade, every single one is up and taking off in the opposite direction.

One of the nearby ravagers bumps into him in their haste, nearly knocking him to the ground. Techno stumbles as he attempts to turn on his heel and take off with his herd. But it’s difficult with the large beasts running so quickly, so spooked.

The ravagers around him aren’t exactly gentle in their rampage either. When they’re scared, that’s when they seem to forget about him. Or at least, forget that he can’t take the same treatment as the others in the herd. Half of his attention has to be cast on the other ravagers, preparing to jump out of the way if any of them run in his direction. Techno has seen those horns pierce through a proper ravager when wielded by a strong enough bull. He has no plans to see himself going up against them.

One of the kinder ravagers gallops at his side, huffing something urgent. Techno reaches out and sinks his fingers into the fur on her neck. Her pace is hard to keep up with, leaving his feet stumbling in their haste, but it’s better than trying to keep up with the others on his own.

It’s still a challenge though. Almost more than he can manage, and that’s when he’s not reeling in confusion and fear. What is happening around them? Is it pillagers? It doesn’t seem like them.

His mind screams of danger, fueling the absolute flood of adrenaline within his body. The fact that he can’t see where the threat is makes it worse. He has no clue where to run, if he even can fight. Techno nearly trips and falls on his face, dragged along by the ravager he’s still holding on to.

Faintly, Techno can hear some more of the shrieking and explosions behind him. This time he doesn’t dare to look though, simply running with the herd. Being left behind or losing them would likely be disastrous at this point, with whatever is hunting them right now. Already, Techno feels far too small between the tromping bodies.

A glint of something shiny catches the corner of his eye then. He can barely turn to see what it is, running too quickly still. It didn’t seem like the strange colored explosions, but instead the shine of metal. What could—?

Thin, nearly clear strings hang through the air ahead of them, sparkling in the sunlight. Techno has enough time to be confused, before the ground suddenly gives out below the ravagers at the front of the herd.

With a gasp, Techno tries to dig his heels into the ground and stop. But the ravager at his side can’t slow down so quickly, momentum so much more powerful. Both of them skid before tumbling over the crumbling edge of the ground.

Wind grabs at Techno’s face and hair as he falls, fumbling through the air desperately. The fall is quite a ways, but there’s not enough time for him to try and catch himself on his feet. 

Instead, his hand smacks into the ground roughly, before bending below his weight. A loud snap rings out, rivaling the explosions from before. But then his head and body are following the trajectory into the ground, and the world wicks away to black.

—

Everything warps and fades strangely around Techno for a short eternity. There’s strange flashing lights, floods of startlingly hot and then cold, a million different whiplashes even when he’s barely aware of them.

It brings to mind the short images of the exploding colors. Pretty. And terrifying. Techno forces down a whine as he curls into a ball, confused by the pain bleeding back into his body.

Throbbing, that he had at first attributed to the movement and rocking around him, grabs at his limbs and head. He tries to lift his hand to prod at his temples, disarmed by the pain, but that draws a proper gasp out of him. Because his right arm is engulfed in fire.

A snuffling noise by his ear makes him flinch minutely, before realizing that it’s just a ravager. And considering that they’re not attacking him, one from his herd.

While that thread of panic leaves him, the pounding within his arm simply rises up more and more. Techno can’t help hissing as he squints his eyes open and tries to figure out what’s happening. Not that that’s an easy feat.

The space around him is dark. Not like night time, but more like he’s inside something. Where could he be? There’s not a lot of places big enough for ravagers to fit, and a couple are here with him.

Delicately, Techno dusts his fingers over his screaming arm while trying to make sense of where he is. The increased pain at even a light touch on his injured limb pretty thoroughly snags his attention though. Breath stuttering over itself, Techno tries to make out his arm in the darkness.

His eyes adjust a little bit, enough to make out the vague shape of the arm. Though, he blinks and rubs at his eyes a few times in shock. Because the indistinct dark blob of his arm is shaped wrong.

The clothes he’s wearing are overly large and not exactly in good condition, since he’s snagged most of them off of dead pillagers, which at least makes brushing the cloth back a bit easier. But that only makes the outline of his arm easier to see.

It’s bent awkwardly, curved where it shouldn’t be. As though he’s grown some new joints in his sleep. Except, when he tries to move it a single inch, the entire thing stays limp and burns worse than the sun.

When a pained noise escapes him, one of the ravagers nearby grumbles. He feels more than hears them approach, and they poke their head forwards with a gentleness they don’t carry often. It’s still rough enough to jostle his arm and head, hurting them slightly. But he swallows down the yelp that wants to pop out, instead huffing shakily.

As the ravager lays down at his side, letting Techno lean against them, he tucks his arm to his chest while looking around more carefully. Small patches of the ceiling give off a bit of light, illuminating the dark, cool colors of the walls and floor around them. It seems to be a curved room, though he can see areas that lead somewhere else. It looks like a cave of some kind.

With his side pressed to the ravager, he notices how warm they are. And, by extension, how cold the air around him is. It’s nearly freezing, far more than it was when they were outside. The walls and floor near him exude the chill just as much. The whole place seems frozen.

How did they get here? Obviously the ravagers couldn’t have accidentally ended up here, and they wouldn’t have dragged Techno all this way. It seems like they’re underground or something.

Could pillagers have captured them? Techno’s heart flips over at the thought, side aching with a memory of an injury, just as sharp as his current ones.

They never did anything so sophisticated before. Their attacks are quite rudimentary, depending on numbers. Which is why the herd has stood up to them decently. There’s a lot of them, enough to fend off nets and chains decently enough.

And, Techno also finds it unrealistic that he would still be alive if it was the pillagers. They always seem set on killing him, even when trying to take the other ravagers alive. No need for something only half ravager, and not the most useful half at that.

But Techno is alive and with some of his herd. Not sure where they are or what’s happening. And injured.

This situation isn’t good…

Tired, his body falls fully against the ravager. They don’t react, probably barely even feeling him. From the way that all of his injuries scream, Techno definitely notices.

Despite how it hurts, he pets his injured arm over and over. The crooked bones are obvious, bulging against his bare skin. The intimate knowledge of how wrong they are makes him feel sick. Or, sicker than he already felt.

Techno needs to fix it. No matter what situation is going on here, no one else is going to fix his broken arm. And if he leaves it be—he frowns at the memories of reeking infections and untreated wounds from when he was younger. He got off lucky, keeping his life from those injuries. But he knows better now than to let nature take its course. Techno is firmly at the bottom of the pecking order and nature will happily take him, cruel and quick.

That doesn’t make him eager to try and fix his arm. It hurts terribly, enough for his body to shake at the smallest amount of pressure. His panting is echoing off the walls, even faster and louder than how they’re coming out of him.

Pinching his eyes shut, Techno forces himself to firmly grasp his forearm right where it bends in the middle. Then, he sucks in a breath while wrenching backward, as hard and fast as he can.

A shriek, far too close to the sound of a dying animal, escapes him. It plays a thousand times on the resounding walls. In fact, as Techno’s head snaps backwards, he swears that the screaming is repeating. Echoing over and over.

Or, it’s not quite his scream. It sounds too shrill, too high pitched and distorted. More strange than even a bird could make.

The ravager at his back shifts, nervous and annoyed by his noises probably. 

With a hiccup, Techno pinches his lips together and listens as the sound clicks and growls further and further away. By the time that it falls silent again, his skin is cold, slicked in sweat. A violent shiver runs through him, shaking his bones.

It’s too bad that it’s his bones being shaken up, since the ones in his arm protest angrily. His other hand jerks and trembles as he tries to feel his injury again. The pain is still awful, maybe even worse. He can’t tell if he put the bones back in place properly.

His skin is slightly bumpy, swollen and hot. The only hot part of his body probably. Wounds being hot is never good.

There’s no obvious crooks or edges of his bones unaligned though, so he stifles the unpleasantness and instead grabs onto the ragged end of one of his shirts. It’s thin and tears easily. He tries to keep the strip of cloth thin and long, so that it can be looped around his shoulder and hold his arm still against his chest.

Even that hurts. The feeling of cloth and his chest on his arm, and even holding it slightly upwards. A jolt of electricity runs away from it, directly into his neck. It leaves him feeling horribly weak after, barely able to hold up his head. 

Techno coughs around a growl, pained.

He’s useless like this. He really needs to get up and figure out where he is, try to find the rest of the herd. They need to get out of here and back to their territory, or at least to somewhere safer.

Regardless of if Techno could ignore his arm well enough to stand, his brain feels just as broken. Probably, he’d fall down if he tried to walk around. And with his luck, he’d probably get hurt worse. Closing his eyes, Techno curls as close to the ravager as he’s able, nuzzling into the warmth.

It’s naive, he knows. Has known for a long while it can’t be that way. But, Techno can’t help drifting off a bit and hoping that somehow he’ll wake up to this solved and his herd back around him, protecting him…

—

The thirst gets to him first.

There’s a dripping sound from somewhere within the caves, but not close enough for Techno to see any water. It’s not like he’s been walking about trying to find it. But he knows it’s somewhere within the walls.

He’s waited too long to try and find it though. Usually the ravagers find their food and water sources. They bring the whole herd down to the water hole for drinks and most of them hunt together too. Aside from the small bits and bobs that Techno finds on his own, most of those needs come from his herd.

But they’re not around here, not really. Only four ravagers have found them within the little room, curling up here for now. That’s not even a fraction of their normal numbers, and it doesn’t seem like the biggest and strongest of them have made it here.

Which doesn't inspire good things. If the best of them haven’t managed to find them, it’s likely they haven’t survived. Unless they somehow fully escaped whatever captured them to begin with. Techno supposes that’s possible, there’s not much they could do against something able to transport them into a cave. 

That just means that Techno is very thirsty on top of his injuries, and no solutions are presenting themselves. There’s nothing to do but get up and find water so he doesn't die of thirst.

It’s easier said than done with his injuries. His arm has gone kind of funny, in the last little while. At least it’s less painful, most of the time. Except when it flares in absolute agony, but hopefully that won’t happen when he’s walking around alone.

Stumbling upwards, his head sways and spins. Even in the darkness of the room, he can tell that his eyes get covered in black splotches. If not for the wall ramming into his shoulder, he likely would have collapsed right back to the ground.

So far, so good.

Slowly, Techno begins inching towards the closest opening within the cave. It’s slightly lighter outside, which will hopefully help him find some things. Maybe he’ll even discover a way out and this can all be over with. The sunlight alone would likely help. Surely that would put some heat back into his frozen skin…

For a second, he can’t help pausing at the opening. A glance backwards shows that the ravagers are laying down, curled together. Probably for warmth and out of exhaustion. Techno wishes one would come with him. But he doubts anything aside from true danger could make them budge.

With a short huff, he pushes off of the wall and staggers down the small slope.

It’s slippery below his feet and he thinks it might even grow colder. The room grows a cooler shade altogether. It almost looks like ice.

Is it? 

Techno walks up to one of the walls and runs his fingers over it, face pinched in confusion. It’s wet almost, and freezing. It doesn’t feel like stone. But how could there be ice in a cave? It’s almost as freezing as winter. And Techno doesn’t have any scrapes or extra clothes to pile onto himself.

He needs to get back to the others quickly.

But his throat is still spasming around every swallow, taking far too much effort to even manage it. Soon, his esophagus might pinch shut completely, no spit left to keep his tongue from gluing it all together. 

Shuddering at the thought and nearly falling from how it makes his head spin, Techno hurriedly leans on a wall and walks wherever it leads him.

By what could be called luck in the most ironic sense, Techno very nearly trips right into a small lake of water. It’s only the faint lapping noises rising up from it that has him snapping back to awareness. The little body of water doesn’t quite seem natural, but as he licks his cracked lips, he doesn’t care.

Techno kneels at the edge of the water, bracing his hand on the ground to keep his balance. A challenge, especially when he has to lean over to scoop up some water into his palm. It’s freezing enough to make him flinch at the first touch. But as his fingertips drip with moisture, he eagerly dips his hand back in.

Most of the water splatters back onto the ground as he lifts it shakily to his lips. The tiny mouthful burns, terribly cold, and nearly makes his tongue too numb to swallow. But it’s also blessedly wet, so he doesn’t care. Already he’s reaching for another handful.

After a few desperate sips that clear his mind the smallest amount, Techno has enough sense to slow down and actually try to take a proper drink. Or at least make it so his hand isn’t spilling water all over himself. That would be useful, considering how little his dry clothes were doing to keep his body heat in to begin with.

Carefully cupping his palm, Techno lets the water collect in his hand for a second.

Before violently jerking backwards with a shout. It gives him the perfect view of the lake being entirely engulfed in ice in the single blink of an eye.

What? What just happened?

His hand is shaking worse now, but there’s no doubt that it’s the burning cold that’s sunk deep into his finger bones this time. The rest of his good limb is numb, but the hand itself hurts.

A glance down shows that it’s discolored, red, even in the dim light.

Techno tentatively taps his heel against the magic ice. It’s as solid as the ground below him. But that just makes its sudden appearance more strange. How could that have happened? Is it really magic?

Techno supposes that's not far-fetched. After all, some of the pillagers can use strange powers and things that he’s never seen anywhere else in nature. Maybe this place is made by the pillagers and they’ve somehow grown much smarter.

That thought makes him frown. All he knows is that getting captured by the pillagers is bad. But he might already be there. Does it really make a difference at this point?

He’s able to swallow a bit easier, but he’s still thirsty.

Before he can reformulate his plan, a shrieking noise fills the entirety of the cavern. Techno looks up, panicked as it morphs into undeniable cracking noises. It sounds like the ceiling is breaking apart and shattering down.

It’s loud enough to make his ears hurt, even when pressed to his skull. And he’s suddenly filled with a potent sort of dread, the gut feeling he gets when the entire herd is on their feet, ready to fight. Except Techno can’t see anyone around to fight, even if he was in the state to.

Which really only leaves one thing to do: run.

It’s harder than it should be. His bound arm messes up his balance, and his churning head isn’t helping either. Every step is overbalanced, wobbly, or ends up with his knees hitting the ground. Techno’s certain that he’s going to end up killed by whatever this is, since somehow he’s escaped the rightful death that should have taken him a hundred times in the past couple minutes. There’s no such forgiveness in nature.

And yet, he somehow manages to make it back to the small room where what’s left of his herd has been resting. His burning fingers smack into the ground as he trips up the little slope, but his eyes are only set on picking out the forms of the other ravagers.

But they’re not here.

The panic within him somehow finds a way to shine brighter. Every breath is a challenge, coming too quickly but stalling within his throat. Every shadow within the darkness sings only of threats and violence. 

Techno has never felt more exposed than he does now, not even when a pillager was sending an arrow right into his side. At least then he had his herd around him, even if they could do nothing.

As quickly as the sounds started, they die off. Techno once again looks up, confused and unnerved further. There had been no shaking or breeze to suggest that something around him had broken. He doesn’t even think he sees any more cracks in the ceiling. Is it another trick? Like the water freezing over? But the ice had been real, so does that even count as a trick?

Before Techno can sort through it all, the sounds smash back into existence.

He flinches closer to the ground, as though bracing for impact, but nothing hits him. It’s just his bones knocking into the hard floor with how badly they’re trembling. Humiliating, almost enough for him to think he deserves a bite to his neck, or whatever other threat is presenting itself.

But both the cowardly and stubborn parts of Techno refuses to quite lay down and take whatever is coming. The noises have changed in quality, but not in loudness or direction. It’s jingly now, almost musical, but not quite. Dangerous, but different.

Techno forces himself to stand, swaying, as he takes off in a random direction. Surely, his herd has run off at the first sign of danger. So they’ll just be somewhere else in the cavern. Techno has to find them.

He clutches his arm, only to gasp as a blinding shock of pain runs all throughout it. His stomach drops down into his toes and his knees do their best to fall out from below him. It’s only momentum that keeps him doing anything close to walking forward, but it’s a near thing.

Now’s not the time for that! The useless arm had slipped his mind in the whirl of adrenaline, but now it is firmly back within it. And somehow, the urgency to get the hell away from danger isn’t enough to dull the agony of it.

Forcing a growl out instead of a whine, Techno latches on to the lightest path before him and staggers down it. At this point he’s just fueled by the survival instincts trying to get him through whatever attack this is alive. But the sounds seem to follow him, creaking and crackling all over the place. If something doesn’t jump out to kill him, his injured body parts might split apart on their own.

Finally, the hallway spills into another little room. This one seems to be a dead end, but Techno can’t care because there’s a ravager pacing back and forth against the wall. 

Overwhelmed by the relief, Techno calls out to them. It’s a bit too close to human noises than the ravager grunt he should have made, but it’s close enough. It has to be. All of his vision flickers to black for a second, prompting Techno to stumble in their direction.

Except, he receives an agitated snort in response. 

Techno snaps back to attention, as much as he can. Which isn’t as much as he should be, but he tries. Tries to huff passively at them, loud enough to be heard over all the wailing. 

But the ravager simply snorts again, racing back and forth a couple more times.

Nervously, Techno watches from the entryway. Obviously the other ravager is afraid. Which perhaps makes this situation more perilous. The rest of the herd isn’t around. Ravagers don’t do so well on their own, even if they’re not useless half breeds like Techno.

The noises all around them pause for a second, almost long enough to breathe. Only for a loud crack to take its place, making them both flinch. 

The ravager recovers quicker than him, rearing onto its hind legs briefly before charging right towards the opening to the room. Which Techno is still standing in front of.

Eyes widening, Techno throws himself to the side. But it’s not quite strong enough of a lunge, since the ravager’s side clips him as he falls. It sends him hurtling quicker into the ground. He tries to catch himself on his shoulder, but enough of his injured arm hits the ground to set his limb ablaze.

Choked gasps escape Techno as he lays paralyzed on the ground. If he didn’t already know that his arm was broken, he’d think that it shattered right then and there. Though it’s honestly not far fetched that the break has shoved back out of place again. It certainly feels like all the delicate tissues within his forearm are being stabbed into and sliced up.

But the strange, echoing noises are still continuing. Techno doesn’t know if the overwhelming sounds or the pain is more tormenting. Maybe it’s the simultaneousness of them.

All of him is still singing of danger though. Enough that he pushes himself off of the ground before the ravager’s footsteps fully fade. Being around one other is better than being alone. Right? 

The deep knowledge that he would die alone fuels him to follow after the ravager despite their rampage. Being behind a furious beast is better than standing alone when facing them.

—

Techno can’t tell if the tips of his fingers are stained red from the cold and damage, or the juice of the knobbly little berries. He’s found a few bushes shoved into corners and nooks scattered around the cavern. As far as he can tell, they’re the only living things within the place other than him and the ravagers. Which makes finding anything to eat difficult. For him and the ravagers.

At least Techno can eat the berries. There aren’t many and they’re not exactly filling, but it’s food. Enough to keep him conscious most of the time. And honestly he’s not even being bothered by hunger like he often is in the colder months. Instead his stomach seems to be lined with a stubborn nausea.

The ravagers on the other hand…

Techno watches as one snorts and jolts another with their horn. It earns angry noises from everyone, leaving Techno to freeze and watch with bated breath to see if a fight is going to break out. That wouldn’t be good in this situation. Even in their territory in the forest, Techno does his best to avoid the scuffles for power that sometimes happen in the herd.

Luckily, one of the ravagers backs off of the patch of moss the other apparently wanted to lay on. A relieved sigh leaves Techno a bit breathless. The scarcity isn’t doing good things for any of them.

His sloping posture makes his elbow dip down slightly, sending burning and pounding pain down to his fingertips and up to his shoulder. It takes a lot of effort to swallow down a growl at the consistent aching. But no one around him needs that.

Tentatively, Techno rubs at his shoulder. Even touching that area decently far above the breaks chews on his angry nerves. But massaging the actual injury seems like such a bad idea when it can’t even hang untouched without agony, so he doesn’t bother.

More guttural growls fill the air, ping ponging between the tiny herd. As much as Techno wants to curl away from it, even hide from the ire turning on him, he instead waits for his pain to wane enough for him to be able to stand. Then, he quickly creeps out of the room, heading deeper into the cavern.

If there’s berries dotted around, maybe there’s other food he can find. The ravagers aren’t the best at finding things that are hidden, so maybe there’s some animals somewhere around here. Surely a bit of meat would help the others feel better, just as the berries kind of had for him. Relatively…

Some rattling coughs escape his chest to echo around the halls and rooms, scratching up his throat along the way. He feels thirsty again, even though he’s been drinking water every few hours when he can manage to get up. Instead of following the path towards the water, he peels away down an unfamiliar hall. The hair on the back of his neck stands up as he assesses the new terrain. Who knows what will be down these winding, unstable paths. 

Mostly unconsciously, Techno curls around his injured arm a bit more. The ache it causes makes him want to protect it all the more, his obvious weakness.

It’s a good thing, because his gait isn’t the most steady thing in the world right now. Every few feet he drifts to the side, hitting the wall. Usually with his uninjured arm at least. Passing out in a random hall without even a couple ravagers around feels far too dangerous. No matter how empty they’ve remained thus far. Something might pop up. Or someone...

The sound of running water perks his ears up, literally, as his tail whips with some nervous energy. Running water might be good. Something more than the strange little lakes. If there’s life to be found in here, surely it would surround that.

Hurrying into the open room, Techno is momentarily stunned by the bright sight before him. There’s definitely more light than the rest of the cave, enough to easily see a river running through the entirety of the large space. And, as he walks further in, there seems to be some sort of structure at the back of the room too.

Techno spares the stone bricks and lanterns a few seconds of probing with his eyes, before turning back the river. It’s small, but not so much that life couldn’t exist within it.

Except, as he kneels by the edge, the water is crystal clear and bubbling over cut stone and glowing rocks. Not a single piece of plant life or fish to be seen. Techno’s not totally sure how he would have caught them, but it would have been better than nothing.

As is, he can only sigh and mentally note the placement of the river for water if need be. Maybe it’ll be more convenient than the freezing pond. But it’s also quite a bit further away. Walking this far, even for water, seems horribly tiring suddenly.

He’s already here though, and if nothing else, the structure at the far side of the room is markedly different from anything else he’s seen in the cavern. Which means there might be something within there. Food? Or even a way out?

Techno tries not to hope. He’s not in much state to have anything more dashed.

Case in point, he’s pretty sure that if he tries to jump over this river, he’s going to fall in and probably crack his head open. His brains are scrambled and pounding enough without any of that.

Slowly, Techno practically crab walks across the edge of the river, trying to find a part where he can walk across. The slippery ice lining it doesn’t help either. He’s been spending enough time sitting and laying on the ice that his skin is basically numb to it all, but seemingly it’s even more cold here, since it burns on his exposed fingers. Maybe the water drops jumping off of the river are helping to wick away at his heat.

Regardless, there’s not a pause in his searching until he comes across a thin offshoot on the water’s edge. Metal, Techno thinks. Which strikes him as slightly odd. But there’s another one on the other side, so it’s about half a bridge. Better than no bridge. And the best Techno will find probably.

So he tentatively places his weight onto the chunk of metal till he’s sure it will hold him. Then he takes a very deep breath and leaps across the little gap.

It should be easy, but Techno somehow manages to instantly lose his balance and start windmilling his only free arm to try and get it back. Which is just barely successful. He shivers at the imagery of falling back first into the water, already present chill sinking deep into his bones. 

Pushing past the urge to turn around and disappear into the warm side of a ravager, Techno crawls off of the piece of metal towards the brick entryway. Though as draws near and catches sight of flickering blue fires, he slows as his chest fills with a thick hesitation. It coats the back of his throat like day’s old blood.

The feelings of unease only get worse as he steps onto the carved stone floor, his ears flicking flat against his head. The closest similarities he can compare to this space is the pillager structures he’s seen from afar a few times. But even then, this seems much more imposing and crafted. There’s nothing natural about this.

It makes sense, considering the unnatural situation. But Techno still frowns at the realization.

There’s really nothing to do but explore further. Even if he feels a bit like an animal walking into a trap. If there’s a chance he can find something useful, then he has to do this. No matter how badly he hurts and fears. At least it will keep him on edge and ready if something does happen.

The fanciful decorations and format of the room try to grab at that attention. It’s almost like sensory overload, with so many things he’s never seen before snatching at his eyes. What type of place is this?

Shaking his head to knock those thoughts out, Techno turns his attention to the stairs going up and down. There’s a couple sets of each, hinting that this place may be much bigger than he thought. Not exactly good.

The way down is much darker, setting an agitated flicker to his tail. If the cave feels like being swallowed, walking down there must be getting digested.

With a dismissive huff, Techno sets off to the stairs leading upwards. The sights are no less odd, even the stairs themself feel strange and wobbly beneath his hooves, like nothing he’s ever walked on before. But as a jolt of pain stabs through his arm as a reminder, he hurries on.

There’s even more options when he gets up to the higher level. Different halls and rooms, filled with things he can’t place. Techno walks through them all with a mixture of confusion and discomfort. 

It’s all just pieces of stone and metal and different formations. Nothing that could be twisted as food or a weapon or way out. It’s as bare as the rest of the cave. 

This entire place is a maddening mixture of chocked full of sights and blaringly empty.

In that way, it’s basically the opposite of the forests. Trees and plants and rivers, all of that Techno knows like the back of his hand. But it’s also full of life and all the things one needs to live. Not like here. This place is like the deepest recesses of winter. Maybe that’s why it’s so cold.

There must be something within here though. Some purpose for the herd to be taken to this place in particular and left to wander about. The pillagers use the ravagers as weapons, Techno knows that much. Nothing quite hinting to that has shown itself here though. It’s almost like a normal cave they’ve found themselves stranded in.

But it’s not. 

The strange sounds and carved structures, it all screams that this is something unnatural. Techno turns into a room and stumbles to a stop at a surprising sight and a wall of heat barreling into him.

Lowered into two holes in the ground is a glowing liquid, seemingly hot like fire. Small bubbles rise to the top of the orange substance and pop with a loud, wet noise. It’s a sight only comparable to the sun, and even then, not very closely.

His skin stings terribly as he creeps closer, enough for Techno to fear that the pits are giving off a noxious poison, similar to the plants that make his skin curdle and itch. The burning feeling eventually gives way for a tingling though. He realizes that it’s just his frozen skin rapidly thawing. Not a good feeling, but perhaps the warmth will help him feel better. The persistent chill is leaving him fuzzy and aching to the bone.

A few inches away from the edge of the glowing pit, Techno can feel a flush rise to his cheeks from his hot blood boiling upwards. It’s almost like a head rush, leaving him dizzy, but in a more pleasant way than the pain and weakness does.

Rubbing his burning, numb fingers together, Techno reaches out his free hand in search of more relief. However, the second that they touch a column of shimmering air above the glowing liquid, he jerks backwards with a gasp.

Techno shoves the tips of his sizzling fingers into his mouth while backing away. The entire surface of his skin feels like it’s been peeled back the second it touched the air above the pit. He swears he can taste iron in his mouth too as he licks at the tender skin.

When his back hits the edge of the doorway, he turns and hurries out of the room. The blistering cold makes him shiver, the quick change in temperature slapping him. But it’s better than whatever the caustic liquid is. He doesn’t trust it.

Techno is just about ready to retreat back to the herd, when a crackling echo runs through the entirety of the space. He instantly crouches down slightly, looking around through squinted eyes. But it simply cuts away to the weird noises that keep playing at random times.

He doesn’t like it. The loud volume and suddenness of it all, it leaves his heart racing. 

Breath stuttering, Techno’s eyes suddenly cut to the side as a high pitched laughter emanates out of the nearest wall. That sound drenches his body in more cold than the ice around him. Because he does know this one sound.

It’s the vexes.

Techno turns on his heel and runs as quickly as he can. The laughter seems to follow behind him, taunting and clawing into his ears. The little stabbing creatures, flitting all around like flies over a corpse. Except, Techno’s still alive and he can feel the biting. He swats around his head, trying to flick away the memories of the monsters.

Originally, he had been trying to find the stairs again. Hurry back to the herd. But somehow he’s turned himself around, since they’re nowhere in sight. Probably, he’s even deeper upstairs than before.

A whine slips out of his lips, a little desperate, as he slides into a crack in the stone wall. It’s a tight squeeze, but his small size, especially compared to the ravagers, makes hiding his only advantage sometimes. Most of the time…

Biting down on his tongue to stop any noises, Techno holds himself as still as possible. It’s hard, because once he’s stopped running, the violent churning of his blood begins to settle within his head and arm. It pounds there, angry and wanting to be heard. The pain twists up, worse and worse the longer he stands like that. If not out of fear of missing something, he would have to blink the moisture from his eyes.

The buzzing and giggles of the vex fade and grow beneath the constant racket from above. At any moment, they could zip through a wall and stab into Techno. He bites down harder to avoid a shiver, ears and tail tucking in more. He wishes he could tuck his large horns in too.

Instead he just tries to stand as still as possible. Or he would, if his muscles weren’t covered in minute shaking all over. Shivers, but more. They kind of hurt.

Techno just about swears that the vexes are right around the corner, noises drawing close enough to cut into him, when a distinct, rhythmic tapping noise makes them all suddenly scatter. It’s a familiar type of thing, nearly hoof beats or galloping. Slightly too sharp and light for any of those things though, even of a light animal like a deer, and certainly not a ravager. If anything, it sounds closer to Techno’s hooves against the ground, which—

Eyes jerking wide and agape, Techno hardly holds himself back from making a sound or giving away his hiding spot. Which would have been very bad, but justified. Because the figure that turns the corner is like nothing Techno has ever seen up close. The closest comparison would be to himself. 

The thing stands upright and walks on two legs, and they’re swinging something long and shiny around in their hand. Not quite a pillager, despite the strange squawking noises they’re making. In fact, the more Techno stares, the more he thinks that they’re a human.

Techno’s only seen them in snatches here and there, from afar. When they strayed too close to their forest or got locked up by the pillagers. Though he’s always had a vague understanding of what a human is, almost like innate knowledge. Techno shares too many traits with them not to, maybe. Or perhaps somewhere beyond his memory, he met them more close up.

This one is strange, even compared to vague remembrances. Their hair is blue and shining, like the flames of the torches scattered around. And their features and clothes are odd. Perhaps they aren’t fully human, like Techno. 

Definitely no ravager in them though.

Which is about all Techno needs to know. Regardless of the vexes flitting around the human, his heart is suddenly rushing very hard for a new reason. If possible, he wedges himself even further into the hidden corner he’s found.

That just makes his ears flicker, picking up the exclamations and yells that they’re letting out where he can’t see. The vexes are screaming too, seemingly a battle going on. Not a very conclusive one considering how screechy the human is. Perhaps they’re even losing. Will they die? Does Techno want them to?

But the blue human lets out a squabbling cry, and then the vex giggles fizzle out to nothing. It’s only when there’s silence, aside from the continued babbling of the human, that Techno decides the vexes are fully dead.

Well, that’s one issue solved. The human’s footsteps are growing closer.

If Techno could hold his breath twice, surely he would. If he could cup his hand over his mouth without rendering his only defense useless, he would do that too. Instead he just wills himself stiller and stiller, despite the riot rising up within him.

“Dangnabbit! These gosh darned—”

When the human’s words begin to steady into something proper, it only confuses Techno further. For one, he hardly understands quite what the person means, though the tone comes across well enough. And the fragments, words, Techno's ears catch on them like it's natural.

Somehow, the person sounds annoyed and amused at the same time.

“I swear I’ve got to change their spots or something, it’s every time!”

A frown pulls at Techno’s lips as the voice and human grow close. They actually give off some light too, with their hair and such. Techno shies away from it.

Just from the corner of his eye, Techno is able to make out the shiny thing better. It’s long, and sharp enough to catch on all the light till it hurts. Techno can imagine how it would slide through even the toughest hide of a ravager in a second. Human skin probably wouldn’t even hold up against it long enough to flinch.

They pass by Techno’s hiding space, not noticing the minute jerk that goes through his body. Or, it seems not, except that the human pauses a few paces past the spot. Probably, if they turned around right now, they could see Techno clear as day.

His body switches into high gear at the realization. Preparing to fight, to run, to probably freeze up within the icy nook even further and accept the swift death coming towards him. There’s a sharp pain within his chest as his heart flips over, drumming impossibly faster.

With a few more murmured words from the blue person, they slide their hand into a bag before pulling something out. From the angle, and with his eyes stuck to the threat before him, Techno can’t quite make out what it is. But the human throws it onto the floor before walking off, leaving behind echoes of their strange sounds.

For a long while, Techno really is frozen in place. Though there’s nothing for him to even be looking at any more, his eyes are stuck alongside his whole body. 

Eventually, a raspy gasp yanks itself into Techno’s lungs, stuttering and stabbing ice into his chest. If nothing else, it makes him finally blink as his whole body curdles inwards. 

Each tiny breath makes his body shake and sputter. The pain seems to stem from the center of his chest, branching out all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Every spasm spends special time caressing his right arm. From how tightly it’s bundled to his chest, he’d expect it to be impossible for his bones and skin to feel like it’s exploding outwards. And yet, he’s forced to clutch onto his shoulder to try and hold it in.

Breathing through it shakily, Techno sets about unwedging himself from the tiny corner. Maybe the sweat coating his body is trying to help him out. There’s definitely no other purpose for it. He’s cold enough without it. And colder with it.

Techno just about stops himself from smacking into the ground as he frees himself. After a far too long few seconds, he glances around the area to double check that he really is alone and safe. At the very least, no beings seem to be around, which is better than the alternative. 

He’s still hesitant as he creeps closer to whatever was left on the ground by the humans. Who knows what sort of tricky thing could have been thrown down. A weapon? Or trap? Techno can’t even begin to imagine.

Which just leaves him more shocked as he steps close enough to the strange lump to make out the pale pink color and squishy appearance. 

Is it… meat?

Why did the human leave meat on the ground? Is it some sort of attempt to hide it for later? It’s not a very good hiding spot if so.

The cut of the meat is strange too. It looks clean despite laying on the ground. All glistening and shiny pink, cleanly cut. Maybe the human flayed whatever thing the meat came from with their blue weapon.

An entire carcass would obviously be better, but there’s not an insignificant amount of meat here. At the very least, it will help the herd a bit. And Techno suspects that the human must have some involvement with this whole place anyway, so stealing from them hardly makes the herd a bigger enemy than they already are. Even if Techno doesn’t like their chances against such an unnatural being with threatening tools.

They need food. Techno grapples with the chunk of meat till it’s clutched within his elbow before trying to retrace his steps.

It’s a bit difficult trying to figure out the winding halls, though he swears he didn’t walk that far within the structure. Maybe part of it is the fact that his head is pounding and horribly off balance. That and the threat of the human around every corner.

Techno hunches into himself more and scurries on.

The stairs practically fly below his feet and the winding halls blur. Techno is almost running by the time that he happens across the little room that the herd is settled in. Relief falls over him, close to warmth cutting through the endless chill, as he catches sight of them.

All of the ravagers look up at him, huffing and grunting. He slows and tries to make his form smaller, exuding that he’s not a threat. It always takes the herd longer to recognize him than any of the others. But it’s fine.

When the hackles lower on one of the ravagers, Techno heads over to them, almost smiling at the ease. He still feels slightly dizzy, but it’s better. A bit.

Falling onto his knees, Techno holds a chunk of the meat out towards the ravager. They sniff at it inquisitively, trying to figure out what it is probably. It’s not very bloody, so it makes sense.

But obviously it smells meaty enough, since the ravager growls loudly enough for Techno to flinch. The moment of pause is enough for the ravager to bar forwards and snatch the food from his hand with their teeth, still growling up a storm. And not so kindly, the side of the animal’s horn smacks into Techno and sends him falling backwards.

All the air within his lungs bursts out of him, dragging along a garbled noise with it. Every single bone within his body echoes with pain, feeling like those shrieking things within the walls. It hurts. Breathlessly, he flails on the ground.

At the continued aggressive growls that the ravager makes while shredding the meat, the others in the room seem to perk up as well, snorting derisively. They’ve figured out that it’s food too. And from how they start charging closer, Techno being in the way is only a hindrance.

It’s hard to move away when he’s still reeling. Automatically, he tries to scrabble with his right arm, but that just makes him fall again as a bolt of pain smashes through him. 

Wheezing, Techno curls onto his side and kicks futily at the ground to try and get away. He feels distinctly like a useless dying animal about to be gutted by his herd for food. He’s seen it a million times, but he was always one of the ones standing around hunting, even when he couldn’t do much. Now he can do nothing at all. That almost feels worse than the pain.

The hooves of the ravagers smash into the ground over his body, too close to his head. If they stepped on him, his bones would be crushed instantly, pains a million times worse than his arm. And the squishy organs underneath would pop like over ripened fruit. If possible, his stupid body tries to curl smaller.

Maybe it does something, or maybe not. But either way the ravagers miss him as they hurtle forwards and start fighting over the piece of meat.

The sounds are disastrous. They almost scare Techno as much as the turbulent state of his being. Usually, such violent noises would only arise if someone was trying to hurt them. Even the rare scuffles for power never got so virulent. 

Now, it’s a fight for their lives. But not against outside invaders. From each other.

Techno inches further away, heels digging into the ground over and over till his back hits a wall. Then all the tendons in his body snap and leave him falling limp, panting quickly. It feels as though he was a part of the fight, full of teeth and horns, despite only brushing it. 

All of him feels gutted and shattered regardless. Useless as a dead thing, Techno stares at the battle between his herd unmoving.

—

The sounds are endless, over and over. 

They get worse whenever anyone within the herd makes a racket, which they’ve been doing plenty. Angry at each other, at anything…

A shriek sounds right next to Techno’s ear, making him flinch away. It simply layers on top of the cracking and creaking all around. A million echoes. He can’t even tell if the echoing is bouncing off the walls of the caves or his ear canals at this point.

It must be the walls, since his ears are pressed flat to his head, but…

His foot slides on the icy ground, very nearly sending him flat. He only stays upright by smacking his hand into the wall. It’s his uninjured hand, but an ache still peels out from it, all over his body. 

Pinching his eyes shut at the pain, Techno stumbles off of the wall and tries to keep walking forwards.

There’s gotta be more food somewhere within the cavern. The herd needs it and obviously they don’t know where it is. They’re not as smart as Techno, so he has to find it for them. It’s the least he can do. All he can do.

Though, had the food really been inside a building? That’s what he remembers, but how could a building be in a cave? That doesn’t make sense…

His knees buckle too far, he only manages to straighten them out with some flailing. But it leaves him breathless, wheezing. The air seems to fill his lungs with ice instead of oxygen.

The food can’t be too far, right? It had been close the first time, he thinks. If he sees the building, then surely he’ll know…

Know that—

The smell of burning suddenly reaches Techno’s nose, bitter at the back of his throat. It reminds him of flickering blue flames and glowing liquid. Heat. He must be getting close.

In a haste to get closer to the lifeline, Techno trips over his feet and sprawls onto slush. It sticks to his skin immediately, not melting but feeling a bit like snow. Snow but sharper, less soft. Isn’t everything here? In the depths of winter, where there’s no food or sunshine.

Techno rubs absently at his eyes, finding his eyelids fluttering. He hadn’t noticed them closing.

The ground starts to push on his body uncomfortably, enough that he tries to stand up from it. Except, his shaky body doesn’t quite obey. Not until he presses his hand into the ground and strains with all his might. And even then, the floor is so shaky below him. He half thinks that he’s stepped onto a pond, bobbing on the water’s surface.

Breathing heavily, Techno shakes his head and walks forward. He has things he needs to do. None of his weakness or pain will change that. He just has to get over it all.

Techno realizes suddenly that his eyes are squinted nearly shut. And as he looks up, it becomes obvious that it’s due to the light. Right beyond the entrance to another room, there’s a slightly brighter glow. Nothing compared to the sun, but it rings as familiar.

The structure must be beyond.

Hurrying his steps, Techno passes through the entryway and is relieved to see the torches and brick on the far side of the space. He had been right.

Except, in the middle of the room is a ravager, pawing at the edge of the river.

Techno frowns, unsure how to advance. They look aggravated, huffing in annoyance. Techno doesn’t know how to help them other than looking for food, but he’s not so sure that getting close to them is the best idea right now.

As he shuffles in place, the ice below Techno’s feet cracks slightly, somehow filling the large space.

Instantly, the ravager spins around with a snort. Techno is quick to make himself smaller, as little a threat as possible. It’s slightly difficult to keep his balance with his spinning head, but he manages. And it should add to the image anyway.

But, for some reason the ravager just snarls and growls some more, stalking closer.

Techno is trapped between a hundred impulses. Most of them are lost to him, out of reach or overshadowed by his churning insides. Little snippets urge him to run, even though he’d surely be caught instantly. Or fight, which is an even stupider impulse.

Clumsily, he takes a single step backwards.

The ravager snorts before instantly charging towards him.

There’s nothing else for Techno to do but turn and run. His feet slide over the iced ground, making him stall in place for far too long considering the yelling beast at his back. He gets a single step, then another, before the weight of the world smacks into his shoulder.

There’s a moment of silence and weightlessness, where Techno tumbles through the air. It’s almost painless too, his nerves shocked still. 

Then his elbow clips on the edge of the icy shore. All of the pain and gasping and desperation floods back into him, all the way to his core. But he can do nothing but flail within it as his body bounces and drops past the jagged teeth right into the swirling waters below.

The hands of the waves yank on every part of him, tugging on his hair and clothes and limbs. While he tries to shove himself upwards through the frozen paralysis, the rushing water is just too quick and cold. Instead his struggling just sends the fingers into his chest all the quicker, wrapped around his lungs. More than anything, Techno feels bubbles float over his lips. 

Then, the entire might of the rapids invade his lungs.

The river is no more gentle within him, pushing and pulling on the edges of his lungs. His diaphragm folds in on itself and the cracks between his ribs bulge out. The tiniest ringing noise runs along Techno’s ear bones, just about the only thing that he can make out from all the agony.

Then, even the screaming within him is knocked out as his bound up arm smacks into one of the hard edges crowding around him. All of him blots away to nothing in the center of a collapsing star of agony.

—

Tango exhales roughly, making the flames around his head dance. They don’t actually grow bigger when fueled by his emotions, but his image mirrors his frustration pretty well right this second.

No matter what he tries, something within the first floor of Decked Out keeps malfunctioning. The clank and hazard keeps skyrocketing the second that he switches the game on, sometimes before he takes a single step within the dungeon. He swears he’s been over the redstone a million times, so it must be something within. Something misplaced? Or broken?

As Tango stalks through the familiar halls of the dungeon, nothing appears out of place. Even the ravagers have begun to spread out properly, which is a relief. He’d hate to have to manually lure them into place. Even if his whole persona is the dungeon keeper or master or whatever, he’s really not the best at avoiding them.

The issues with the game seem to have arisen after the ravagers were transferred in, so he fears he might have to do something with them anyway.

For now he simply looks for anything suspicious or out of place. Which is easier said than done. Usually if something is going off track, it means he’s being pranked. But considering no one has come by laughing with all the subtlety of a, well, ravager, he can check that one off.

That thought is not so gently thrown from his head as his foot lands on the trap door over the river and it snaps shut.

“What the— Aaaah!”

The icy water that immediately soaks him up to his elbows earns a loud shout from him. It’s cold! Not as much as it would be without the magma spots keeping it liquid, but it’s anything but pleasant. 

“This one’s not even supposed to be a trap, what gives?” Tango says, slightly exasperated.

But, before he can start pulling himself out of the water towards the shore, a soft growling noise catches his attention. Looking down the river, he pauses at the strange lump clinging half out of the water. The browns and faded pink color of it is distinctly not in line with the building palette for this floor.

“Someone better not have released pigs in here…” Tango starts while walking closer. He only trails off as he grows closer and something starts to seem wrong.

For one, the thing on the ground lets out another rumble. Then, just the smallest amount, it moves. It curls inwards.

“Umm,” He slows, crouching and reaching out slightly. 

Tango's face is twisted up, enough that it nearly hurts. But it hardly reflects the hesitance welling up within him. Because as he draws near, the snippets of tan begin to look like limbs, and the dirty pink looks like hair, and just about peeking out are the curves of a face—

“What the what?” Tango hisses while very quickly rolling the thing, that he is almost certain is a person, over. “What? What?”

The repetitions feel stupid, but he starts to feel much stupider at what is most definitely a face. A face attached to a body, dirty and broken on the edge of the water. Some liquid drips out of their mouth as an instinctive sort of grumble leaves them.

“At least they’re alive!” Tango squeaks to himself, heart in his throat. “But how—”

His questions are cut off as he finally has the sense to bundle the person to his chest and start dragging them out of the river. Their skin is cold, nearly freezing even when compared to the water. Hypothermia? Or frostbite? Maybe both! That's the opposite of good.

Tango absently notices a tail with fluff at the end swing down from the body, and the hard edge of a horn press on his shoulder. As the features come together and click in his head, his heart flips over and sinks to his toes. The realization is colder than anything imaginable.

A ravager hybrid.

“Crud…” Tango growls as he finally hefts them over the edge of the river.

The stranger isn’t difficult to carry, or not as difficult as they should be. The thinness of their limbs and frame. And he doesn’t even let himself think about how they’re certainly shorter than him by quite a bit, almost more than they should be. It makes Tango feel all the more like he’s going to break them.

Break them further. Obviously the dungeon has broken them enough already and— Tango’s the dungeon master.

With far too little care, Tango hustles through the halls back the way he came. He’s thankful that the end of the game isn't complete yet and any snides on his behalf about procrastination will never be heard ever again. His skin burns as he quickly transitions out of the frozen caves.

Obviously the warm, humid air doesn’t feel much more pleasant to the person in his arms. They begin to stir a bit, face rolling closer to Tango. It must feel like being dropped straight into lava after so long in the cold. But a bit of warm air probably won’t be enough to revive them completely.

As Tango runs through the mess of redstone and shulkers, he searches for something to help. It’s just as pointless as most of his hours combing through the coding, but this time the body twitching in his arms forces him to slide to a stop inside his little storage area. There’s no time to wait around for a perfect solution to pop up.

Still, rolling the person on the ground feels slightly wrong. The same sort of wrong he’s felt since seeing them to begin with. Splayed out, they just look worse off than when they were obscured.

Tango also realizes that he has no clue where to start or what he is doing. 

In one motion, he yanks his cloak off and throws it over the scrawny form on the ground. Then he pulls out his communicator and starts furiously typing a message that’s as close to screaming “HELP” as he can get without having the entire server barrel in with swords and tnt.

Still enough urgency that hopefully someone with enough medical training to know how to search for injuries will show up though. Tango obviously knows first aid, but that relies on a lot of asking someone where it hurts and then looking at that place, usually to shove whatever is bleeding full of gauze. Anything could be wrong with this person and he has no clue where to start.

Carefully, Tango swipes their hair out of their face before tilting it to the side. Just barely, their lips move with each inhale, so at least he can keep track of their breathing.

Every couple of seconds, Tango's eyes will flicker up to check that they haven’t stopped breathing, all the while peeling back the cloak to make sure nothing is bleeding out. It’s then that he notices that one of the ki—person’s arms are bound to their chest in cloth. Some sort of makeshift brace or sling maybe?

Tango is able to tear the bindings easily enough with how tattered the cloth is. But he almost wishes that it had held up better so he doesn’t have to see what lies beneath.

A choked sort of gasp leaves his lips as he flinches backwards.

The limb that should match the pale, slim form of their left side is instead a shocking myriad of reds and purples, and even some blacks in the darkest areas. Tango almost thinks that the arm has no skin on it, peeled away to show off the battered insides. But a second more of shocked staring makes it quite obvious that the puffy shine over the expanse must be skin, damaged as it is.

With all the swelling, anything beneath the surface is near impossible to make out. But, Tango can still tell that there must be some broken bones in there. An injury like this couldn’t have happened without it. Not that he would feel comfortable moving the terrible injury if there weren’t any, but as is, even breathing near it feels wrong. Like somehow he’ll hurt it worse.

Which— Tango’s eyes flicker up, anxious and suddenly convinced that the kid’s chest will be breathless. But, their injured arm slides downwards slightly, pulled on by gravity, and with it their features all wrinkle with tension as a tiny pained whine escapes them.

Still breathing. Tango releases his own breath that he was holding.

“Good gracious.”

He’s a bit more tentative as he pokes over their other limbs and their abdomen. None of them looks good, that’s for sure. There’s bruises and scrapes and a bunch of things that just look pretty bad. A slight purpling and scabby spot below one of their horns makes him frown in a bit more worry. But, their arm seems to be their worst injury, at least visibly. Perhaps the kid’s head is worse, considering they’re unconscious, or if they inhaled a lot of water…

“TANGO!”

“Wha—” The distant yell makes Tango jolt and swing around, though no one is actually in the room with them. Obviously. Considering that the yell was distant.

Still, it was close enough for them to obviously be somewhere within the inner-workings of the dungeon. Probably more lost in the redstone than he gets.

“WE’RE IN MY STORAGE ROOM!” Tango shouts, not exactly keen on leaving the injured person unattended.

“WHERE IS THAT— Oh, never mind…”

Considering that Tango can even hear their grumbling, they’re probably not far. And, if he’s not mistaken, it sounds like Doc. Which is probably the best he can hope for in this situation. Doc has some experience with mutilated arms and all that…

Tango notes to himself not to say that out loud.

“It might be hypocritical to complain about you not having living quarters, but I’m going to,” At Doc’s voice steadily growing closer, Tango lets out an anxious breath and turns towards the doorway. He’s ready to deflate to the floor at the sight of the tall man storming in. “What did you—”

Doc pauses when he catches sight of the stranger splayed out on the floor. Probably because they’re a stranger, which shouldn’t be possible on this server. Or the fact that they’re obviously injured and unconscious. Or maybe he’s judging Tango for depositing an injured person on the ground, but that’s not his fault! He never planned to need a treatment table in his storage room!

“Doc!” Tango calls out.

“What the—what?” Doc sounds flabbergasted.

“I have no idea, really. But they’re injured. So. Please?”

“R-right.” Doc shakes his head. “You’re explaining this to Xisuma.”

As if that was ever off the table.

But the creeper hybrid strides over, so he doesn’t care. Tango gives the extremely short list of what he knows about the injuries before gratefully scooching back. Though his eyes continue to stick to the person's chest and mouth, checking that they’re still breathing despite how they look like death.

“Oh my— Their arm,” Doc murmurs, hand hovering over the disfigured limb in question.

“Mhm. It does not look… good.” Tango creaks nervously.

“Not good is an understatement,” Doc says.

“Yeah, it. Yeah.”

Taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself for the pain, Doc gently peels the curled up arm into a slightly straighter position. Or at least he tries to. The limb is obviously stiff from swelling and brokenness, but the real trouble is when the kid attached to it lets out a yelp and starts weakly kicking away.

Slightly delayed, their eyelids flutter open, revealing a sheen over their pale blue eyes that is so thick it might as well be eyelids. It does not help with the whole drowned, well, child look. Especially when the only emotion getting through the grogginess is fear.

“Don’t move, you’re hurt,” Doc says lowly, in a way that’s meant to be calm. 

Tango doesn’t have the best bedside manner, so he’s not judging, but there are many reasons that Doc isn’t exactly a proper doctor and the terrifying vibes when you’ve got a head wound might be one.

As menacingly as the kid can manage, they bar their slightly pointed teeth and let out a growl. It’s meant to resemble a ravager’s for sure, and gets closer than most people can manage. But it mostly just makes them look like a feral kitten who’s been hit by a car. Doc raises his hands in surrender anyway.

“Bet that arm hurts. I can fix it, see?” Doc says, doing his darnedest. ”And anything else that hurts too.”

The blue eyes flicker over to Tango for a second, squinting slightly—which Tango certainly deserves—before snapping right back over to Doc. Seems that giant creeper cyborg looming over you earns a bit more attention. Probably a good call.

Or it’s a good call until there’s a familiar thunking noise of metal plodding closer that drops more tension over the stranger, bewilderment making them look close to fainting.

“ ‘ello, Tango? What are you needing help with?” Xisuma’s oblivious voice filters through just as he steps into the room, though there’s obviously some concern coating his tone.

Not that it matters. The injured kid tilts their head back to look at the newcomer, seemingly making eye contact with him considering Xisuma’s “oh,” before the tension in the kid's body seems to snap. Then their head keeps tipping back, back, back, nearly smacking into the ground as they fall limp. Luckily, Doc’s jolting forward is the most productive of the three of them, since he actually catches them.

“They’re unconscious,” Doc says, and he sounds a bit relieved. 

So hopefully that doesn’t mean the fainting is due to anything too terrible. Or maybe he’s just glad to be done with the tense social interaction, who can say.

“... I was not expecting this. Doc—?” Xisuma starts before being cut off.

“Nope. This is all Tango, I’m just doing medical,” Doc says firmly.

“Tango?” Xisuma turns to him.

“I have no idea!” Tango squawks. 

“There’s a person in your base. And I’m certain I would remember them joining.” Tango can’t tell if Xisuma is being sarcastic or not, but neither option helps his franticness.

“I just found them all beat up while walking around Decked Out!” Tango says, exasperated.

“Hey, speaking of medical, can we go somewhere sterile and preferably with medicine? Their pulse is fluttery and I’m not liking the chances of their arm, even without possible amputation on your dirty floor,” Doc cuts in.

“Amputation,” Tango whispers.

“Right. Where?” Xisuma asks, snapping into focus.

The armored man crouches beside the limp kid, hovering his hands over them till Doc waves them off. Obviously the man is fine to carry them alone if Tango could. Though it’s with an almost juxtaposing gentleness that Doc leans forward and sandwiches the broken arm to his chest so that it won’t be jostled with elevation.

“My place, I suppose. I have tools to treat their arm at least. But I’d like a second set of hands to do it,” Doc says smoothly as he hoists the kid up. Then he glances at Tango: “Useful hands.”

It’s not a slight, but Tango still hisses in a bit of offense. He’s far more focused on leading the group out of the underground labyrinth. It seems like Xisuma is busy trying to corral someone semi-useful at medicine and some supplies over to their destination with his communicator, so Tango forces out a steadying breath and yanks his sword out.

Doc’s place isn’t far, but it also isn’t close. But he’ll get them there in one piece. Or as few pieces as they’re in right now.

The night sky greets them as they jog out of one of the openings. Once again, Tango’s glad he hasn’t quite finished anything yet. It’d be far harder to somehow get above ground without flying through the scaffolding and work holes. Which they definitely shouldn’t do with someone who’s so injured.

Doc’s flag pole is visible over the forest between them. But considering the mobs dotted around the open field, it won’t be an easy run over.

With a swallowed sigh, Tango lifts his sword before him and sets out slightly before the others, slashing anything that comes close. He can see Xisuma from the corner of his eye, hitting stragglers so that Doc doesn’t have to move too much. 

The image of sickly darkness snaking up a misshapen arm and blue lips on a still, small frame pushes Tango onwards. Every slash of the blade is fueled by that fear, uncaring of how his arms start to ache with exhaustion. Honestly the fact that it’s in his arms just makes the guilt within him stir higher. Couldn’t be his legs hurting right now, huh?

Well, they do start to hurt a bit as they run on through the woods and across shallow rivers. It’s silent between them all, but not quite comfortable. The more time that passes, the more the tension grows. Tango is scared to turn and see what’s on Doc’s face, to see how bad it’s gotten. 

There’s been no more noises from the kid.

As the Hall of Goat draws close, Doc suddenly bustles to the front of the group, coat billowing behind him. The space is mostly wide open, so it’s not difficult to follow the man to the large, not totally safe looking, elevator. Doc is punching buttons before Tango and Xisuma fully step on.

“Is anyone here?” Doc asks, looking towards Xisuma.

“Most of the hermits are actually sleeping tonight, somehow, so there aren’t many people around. Cleo said she would wake up Joe for potions and bring them over, but I don’t know when they’ll be here. Apparently he has to brew them.”

Doc grunts. “Fine. They’re not worth waiting for, you can help me.”

His face isn’t visible through his visor, but Tango can still tell that Xisuma cringes at the command. But, out of the two of them, Xisuma would be better. He has more experience and is better at staying calm when he absolutely has to. It’s not like Cleo or Joe would know much more than Tango either, so it’s really their best bet if they want to treat the kid with less of a delay than there's already been.

Doc’s lab is shoved into a random floor in the side of the perimeter. At least it’s not overseeing any cliff edges, which is a feat with Doc’s base this season. The sharp fluorescent lights shining down on the tables of tools doesn’t exactly feel comforting though.

“Clear off that table,” Doc jerks his chin towards one of the metal slabs. “And grab my first aid kit off that shelf, Tango.”

He nearly trips over himself to comply. Xisuma walks closer to him with an armful of half finished gadgets, depositing them onto a different bench.

“They look like a ravager hybrid,” Xisuma says, eyeing him.

“I know,” Tango says. “But I don’t know how. Really.”

Seeing the kid all splayed out on a work table isn’t much better than on the floor. But maybe a little bit better. Now would be a good time for Tango to leave, maybe try to find some sort of supplies before the others can bring them. But he feels glued to the room and the unconscious resident. Like if he peels away, something will happen.

Doc is prodding through a slightly more detailed checklist of vitals on the kid. Pulling their eyelids back and listening to different parts of them. Xisuma dips out of the room for a bit, returning with tools that Tango doesn’t know the names of.

“What do you think?” He asks, handing Doc a bottle of antiseptic, if Tango had to guess.

“The arm looks bad. The tips of their fingers are necrotic, I don’t think I can save it.”

Tango’s heart flips over in his chest, so violent that it makes him feel close to vomiting. The pain that it fills his body with feels like a betrayal. He’s not the one that’s hurt.

“What happened?” Tango asks, sounding a bit too frantic.

Doc raises an eyebrow at him, obviously trying to hint that he should calm down. “The bones are shattered and displaced. It damaged the surrounding tissues too much, which causes swelling, and pressure, and lack of blood flow. Honestly they’re lucky they didn’t tear an artery and bleed to death.”

A sound between a cough and a wheeze leaves Tango against his will. Could that have happened if Tango didn’t find them? He only went into the dungeon on a whim.

“That kills the arm?” Xisuma asks, sounding far closer to calm. Tango doesn’t know how.

“Mm. It’s called compartment syndrome. Pretty nasty. I’d like the potions first, but I’m not going to wait long to take off at least the forearm. Let’s start warming them up now,” Doc says.

That, Tango actually does know about, working with ice enchantments and such this season. Signs of frostbite and hypothermia. Tango realizes that the kid wasn’t shaking when he first picked them up. That’s bad.

He’s at least able to collect some blankets and warm water bottles. It would be good to get the warm liquids inside of them, but Doc shoves the warmth closer to the non-injured limbs, muttering something about cold blood and heart attacks. Which is as horrifying to think about as anything else tonight.

Which doesn’t mean much when Doc starts obviously measuring up the mangled arm for the best place to cut it.

“There’s no other options? Than amputation?” Tango can’t help asking.

“Maybe at one point. Not now.” Doc turns to him, looks him in the eyes. “Their skin is rotting off.”

Well, that’s. Well, it sure is something.

“At least you’ve got experience doing this before, right?” Xisuma says, aloof as ever.

“Eh,” Doc shakes his metal hand noncommittally. “I didn’t do the cutting off part, but I know what to do after. I’m sure it’ll be easier on someone else.”

“That is better than nothing,” Xisuma says.

“Oh, Nether…” Tango sinks towards the floor.

“Just stand in the corner in case we need anything. And don’t sneeze into any open wounds or anything, you know,” Doc says.

Easy enough. Easier than being Doc or Xisuma pulling on gloves and grabbing way too sharp objects that Tango’s not totally sure are for medical use. Easier than the small body passed out and about to be cut open with only the suspicious potions laying around Doc’s lab.

It’s one of those times where Tango really should not be complaining, though he really really wants to.

That feeling doubles as a tourniquet is tied into place and the first cut is drawn across the center of their upper arm. The bright red that bubbles up feels like something that can’t be taken back. 

There’s something in there about red ink. Or pens? Is it red ink or red pens? 

There’s ink in pens.

Doc and Xisuma almost look calm as they work, with Doc giving short commands and Xisuma following them quickly. It could almost be professional, not emergency surgery. But then the blood starts dripping off the edge of the table, hitting the ground with a pattering that sounds like a leaky faucet. It shatters the scene terribly.

At least that noise is better than the others. The sound of tools clinking together and tearing through flesh. It shouldn’t be so audible. And yet, Tango can hear them all. The squishing invades his ears and mixes up in his brain.

He quite badly wants to flee the room again. There’s no room for him here and the sickness wavering within his stomach at the sounds prove that. Tango should never be allowed within a surgery room and he will stand by that.

Plus, the person responsible probably shouldn’t be involved anyway. That must be a law, right? Like, a universal law? If you trap someone in a death trap and then their arm gets mangled, you’re not allowed to be there when they chop off the rotting flesh?

Tango bites his tongue hard enough that he tastes blood to go with the growing smell.

Something that buzzes is flicked on and shoved into the pared bicep. An arch of blood shoots through the air, seemingly in response, far enough that Tango flinches. That doesn’t seem good. Doc is silent as he stabs into them with the tool all the harder. Some blood splatters across Xisuma’s face plate, which he goes to wick away before stopping himself, leaving the crimson liquid to drip downwards like tears.

Before whatever is happening can be resolved, an even worse noise floats through the air, quiet as it is terrifying. A light, raspy whine leaves the kid on the table.

At that, Doc lets out a grumble that sounds less than friendly enough for the probably not adult he’s cutting into. Which is the thing to worry about here of course. It’s better than Tango digging his fingernails into his forearms and leaning forward, like he could do literally anything here. Everything within him is urging him to jump forwards. Except the parts urging him still and very far away.

The long mechanical tool is pulled out finally, steaming slightly in a way that makes Tango think that it’s hot. Cauterizing? That’s probably good, for bleeding and all that. Tango hopes it’s good.

“I need to get through the bone. I’ll clamp the veins, but you have to hold them,” Doc says to Xisuma.

Then he picks up what is very obviously a spinning saw. Even Xisuma glances up at the tool with what seems to be a sigh, before he leans forward and holds his hands out in preparation to presumably hold the blood within the kid’s body.

With a click, the saw is switched on, letting out an oppressive drone. Though it’s nothing compared to when Doc shoves the limb down and presses the cutting blade firmly into the open wound. Then, the real noise begins.

It’s as though the bone is screaming in pain, splintering and shattering apart below the saw. A tiny, screeching animal within the jaws of churning metal. The force of it is enough to make the limp body below shake slightly.

At least until the pink haired kid grows tense, knees hitching and free hand twisting into a fist. Even through the mechanical buzzing, groans and a failing growl begin to grumble through the air.

“Shoot— Tango, come hold down their shoulders,” Doc says.

“Are they not asleep?” Tango asks, scandalized.

“I can’t exactly knock them out with drugs like this, their heart will give out,” Doc says. “Hurry up!”

Giving the end of the table a wide berth, Tango skirts around to the kid’s head. Their face is screwed up, twitching as though they’re struggling back to consciousness. Tango wants to grab their head and yell into their ear to run the other way, that it’ll really be more pleasant. But he’s pretty sure they have a concussion or brain damage of some sort, and yelling into his ears seems inadvisable.

With tentative fingers, Tango presses his hands down on their shoulders. If anything, it seems to make them stir more, a whine rolling out of their nose. It takes everything within Tango not to recoil away and hope them back to sleep.

But the last thing that Tango is having tonight on this grand evening is luck, so those pale blue eyes peel open sluggishly, irises rolled slightly back so that they meet Tango’s face. Then, the whole bone saw situation must strike the marrow in their arm, since they violently jerk before screaming.

His hold wasn’t tight enough, obvious in the fact that the kid manages to sit up a few inches and start clawing at them. Mostly, they target Doc and Xisuma, likely because of the pain is stemming from them. But there’s a nasty squelching noise as they rip their sliced open arm backwards, tearing everything further.

“Tango!” Doc shouts, knocking him into action.

With all of his weight, Tango shoves the kid down onto the table. Or their upper body at least, since they’re still bucking and kicking up a storm. But Tango is more focused on keeping them for pulling the arteries out of the operation site. A few small flecks of viscera dot Tango’s face just from the initial fight alone.

A few times, they almost sound like they’re saying no or pleading, but mostly their yells are wordless. Wordless and warped, trying to be growls of some kind. But they sound far more like a wounded animal than the scary beast they’re trying to be.

As the kid's free fingers fly too close to the tools, Tango snags their wrist out of the air and holds that too. It seems only to increase their panic, wild, sloppy hits falling out of them. 

It looks like as much of a murder scene as it could. Probably that’s what they think it is. Injured and trapped in a dungeon and nearly dying till they wake up in a lab under a blade. Swallowing thickly, Tango leans more heavily on their shoulders and tries to fully block off their sight.

“H-hey, it’s alright. We’re not trying to hurt you,” Tango tries.

The kid barely glances at Tango, still focused on trying to get away from or somehow attack Doc and Xisuma. It seems like they’re growing weaker though as the adrenaline drains from them, or maybe the blood.

“You’re alright. I’m sorry. But it’s okay, I promise,” Tango says uselessly, talking to no one at this point.

Except, for a scant second, those pale eyes flicker upwards and seemingly search over Tango’s face. They’re still shaking violently, teeth chattering around growls, but they stop trying to free their uninjured arm at least. Is he getting through, or is the kid just fainting?

Tango tries to exude as much calm as he can, but he’s pretty sure his own features are shaking a bit. The kid’s lips part a little, almost forming something. Maybe more screams or a word.

But their eyelids just droop back down as their body sputters limp again, seemingly exhausted.

A breath escapes Tango, though it’s more of a gasp. Somehow, he feels more exhausted than after the sprint across the entire forest between the bases. Though, he doesn’t dare let up his hold now, even as there’s an obvious clicking sound, bone snapping, and then the saw turns off. Every once in a while, a jerk will run through the kid even in their unconscious state.

It’s almost relieving. They’re so pale. They could be dead.

A wet sound rings out, and as Tango glances up on reflex, he very quickly regrets it. The arm that hardly looks like an arm flops weakly to the side, nearly rolling off of the table into the growing puddle of blood. The nothingness below the operating site makes everything within him curdle, more than anything.

Tango hopes they live. He doesn’t quite know what he’ll do if they don’t, this probably kid that ended up here somehow, that they know nothing about. But even if they do, there’s no way to give them back that.

And, no matter the ignorance Tango held on the matter, his part in it all is solid within his mind.

—

Doc has many labs and work areas strewn throughout the perimeter, all of which seem to have half abandoned and forgotten projects within them. Not like Tango’s in a place to judge, even with his single-minded focus this season. No, he doesn’t think he’s going to be judging many people for a while.

One of the labs has a couch shoved against one of the walls and is clean enough for Doc to declare it good enough for their “patient” to rest within. There’s also a work table bolted to the floor, which Tango suspects might be important in case they need to do CPR.

But Cleo and Joe were by with their potions a few hours ago, and only bullied their way into seeing the stranger for a couple minutes. Tango decided that that was an ideal time to give Xisuma the full, but admittedly short, run down on every single thing that happened leading up to the kid being here. Facing their admin with a possible threat is less intimidating than Cleo’s silent judgement, and Joe’s far better concealed, but all the sharper, judgement.

Not that anyone is really pointing fingers at Tango, it was an awful mistake that this could have happened. An automated system that wasn’t made to weed out players, because why would it be?

A player couldn’t survive in a group of ravagers. And why would they even be there, off in a random part of the forest? It makes no sense. Not that Tango even thought he would be able to safeguard for anyone but the hermits, cause no one else should be on the server…

It doesn’t make sense. Not really. Xisuma has begun shifting through things, trying to find something out on the back end, but that doesn’t really change the facts here and now.

Which is a small person curled up on half of a couch, missing an arm and shivering like the saw is still running through them.

At the very least, the shivering is good. Doc said they shockingly only had mild frostbite—and a few strange burns Tango can’t wrap his mind around—probably from how worn and calloused their extremities are. The hypothermia too is on the way out, and apparently they’re past the part where they have to worry about organs shutting down or shocking them or whatever.

They’ve been slightly cleaned up and bundled up with clothes, which makes them look only the smallest ounce better. Their hair is still a wreck and the thinness of their frame is more than could have happened in even weeks, Doc says. 

If Tango thinks about it, the kid must have been living with the wild herd of ravagers. For a while.

Which raises more how’s and why’s. Tango’s brain is turning to goo between his ears at this point as he tries desperately to make sense of the situation while also helping keep track of the kid’s vitals.

Not that he’s doing a great job of that, since it’s a sputtering growl that makes him snap out of a trance—totally not sleep—and nearly fall off of a stool in the corner.

“Hey, you are doing okay,” Doc’s calm grumble fills the room, almost deeper than the growling. “Try not to move, you’re injured.”

Freezing where he’s perched, Tango takes in how the kid is propped on their remaining elbow, glaring down Doc who has his hands up right at the bedside. Despite the snarl of their lips and the dangerous sound leaving them, Tango mostly notices how wide their pupils are as they occasionally flicker around. All of them screams of fear, like a cornered animal.

“Look, I’ll take a step back for you. Just don’t move too much,” Doc bargains.

Tango doesn’t know if it’s getting through to the kid. Their ears are twitching slightly, so they’re obviously hearing him. Their hand is also snaking over to the stump, slight confusion falling over them. Wait, do they even know Common? That could be an issue—

“ ‘ello, I brought some food.” Xisuma’s voice precedes him plodding into the room, seemingly oblivious to the threads of tension he’s easily slashing through. “Oh? You’re up?”

The kid’s glare thwips over to Xisuma, only for their eyes to grow wide and openly fearful for a second. Then they go back over to Doc, then Xisuma, then Doc. Over and over, quick enough to dizzy even Tango.

The growls in their throat stumble, then stop with a squeak. Their lips press together as their chest over-expands with every inhale. They look close to hyperventilating as they curl into themself.

“Okay, look, I’m stepping back,” Doc says, moving away to try and get them to calm some.

It seems to be no use, since the movement simply makes them whine and look around the room with more fear. The weight of the horns sticking widely out of their temple areas seems to make their head wobble slightly, as though barely able to support it. Tango fears that they will fall flat on themself at this rate.

“Uhm, is it—?” Xisuma starts to ask as he takes a step backwards, perhaps to leave the room again.

But, again, the movement just makes the little ravager hybrid flinch, eyes moving desperately till they land on Tango.

Then, the kid is jumping up off the couch.

Everyone in the room exclaims loudly, stumbling to catch them when they collapse, or at least before they can hurt themselves further. It ends up being Tango that comes the closest, solely because the kid runs at him.

“Wait—wah!” Tango shouts as he tries to grab their shoulders, only to fully fall off the stool onto the floor.

Which is perhaps good. The kid is also falling onto the floor, though slightly more controlled. They do land hard on their good hand, nearly overbalancing, but managing to stay upright enough to crawl into the corner.

Directly behind Tango.

In fact, they’re barely behind Tango at all. They’re nearly at his side, hiding behind him.

“Ah–um,” Tango stutters, very eloquent. “Uhhh, hey?”

A weak growl escapes the kid, though Tango’s not sure if it’s aimed at him or the others. Doc and Xisuma are both staring down at them with looks of shock, though he swears there’s something edging on amusement in Doc’s face. The man deserves to have all his stupid redstone blown up again if that’s so.

As the pink haired child tries to hide themself behind Tango better, they lean on their right side a bit too much and start to slip. Tango tries to whirl around and grab them, but the kid luckily catches themself. By grabbing onto Tango’s sleeve and falling towards him.

“Okay. C-careful there,” Tango says, arms held up awkwardly and unsure.

The kid simply leans their face against his arm, glaring out at the room with tired, glazed eyes. But they’re still clinging to Tango. Even as they sway with quick exhaustion, their hand stays tight in his sleeve.

Doc makes a purposefully quiet noise behind them, before motioning something indeterminate. Then the man grabs Xisuma and pulls them out of the room. Tango knows they’re just outside, a call away if the kid starts getting sick or something. But being alone with them makes Tango feel equally as out of his depth as if this was a medical situation.

Good gracious, what does he say? What does he do? The kid obviously doesn’t know that Tango’s responsible for all their injuries, but Tango is and that’s plenty!

The warning noises from the kid die down as they look anxiously at the door for a few more seconds. Then, their eyes slide back over to Tango.

Very obviously, they curl downwards a bit. But they still don’t let go. They just watch Tango, a couple inches away.

“Hi,” Tango says.

He wants to knock himself over the head. The hazy blue eyes blink at him.

“My name is Tango, I found you in the dungeon. Er— the cave place? You were hurt, and—”

Tango unwittingly looks down at the missing arm, and it seems like the kid follows his line of sight. Maybe it’s the potions in their system now, or just the shock, but they don’t seem to react enough. There’s just a bit of confusion. And fear.

When they shrug their shoulder, obviously trying to move the hurt stump, and hurting themself in the process, Tango lightly grabs their good elbow and forces as soft of a look onto his face as he can manage.

“Your arm was broken. We couldn’t fix it, so it had to come off.” Tango takes a deep breath, chest aching. “I’m sorry.”

Now seems like an appropriate time for them to start screaming again. Panicking and clawing at Tango and screaming.

But instead their face furrows up, before they turn back to Tango. And just. 

Frown.

It’s so much worse. Worse than if the kid tore his throat out or gutted him with a sword right now. At least that would be justified. And make a bit of sense within Tango’s squirming guts.

But instead they look confused and scared and sad, before leaning slightly more towards Tango.

Tango draws in a very sharp breath, feeling like he’s drowning in the emotions right now. It’s trying to drag him below, icy and violent. Then he remembers that there’s still some water in the kid’s lungs, not yet safe from that yet.

So he forces himself to squeeze the kid’s arm as lightly as he can and smile.

“What’s your name? Can I call you something?”

He thinks it’s fruitless. Maybe they don’t even understand him fully and they haven’t spoken a word yet. But Tango suddenly wants to know very badly what their name is. So he can have something to pair with the kid before him. And the guilt tearing his insides to shreds.

Enough time passes that Tango thinks he’s right. The kid wilts towards him more and more, till their weight is fully leaning against him. And Tango just loosely wraps an arm around them to keep them in place.

An indistinct murmur rises up from where the kid’s face is buried in his shoulder, almost making him jump.

“What was that?” Tango asks.

The kid leans his head back, just a bit.

“T-Tech-no.”

A sad smile crosses Tango’s face, and he rubs the kid’s back as they fall against him again.

“Nice to meet you, Techno.”