Chapter Text
The potion may have been gentle, but the flurry of voices spamming TECHNOLATE and PHILZA MINECRAFT as Techno reaches awareness are anything but. He groans and curls into himself at the pressure, and Phil automatically reaches over from his vigil at Techno's side to brush some hair from his forehead and shush him gently. Techno leans into the touch automatically, only bothering to crack his eyes open after a minute or so.
The Egg watches from... well, everywhere. He directs Philza to start to make that calming cooing noise he's heard a few times when Techno wakes up in the middle of the night. Calm, gentle, quiet. He feels the being that is Techno, and feels the Chat, and how it's separate. Feels the connection between them, sees the string. He holds a knife up to it for a moment before putting it down. Later.
Calm him. He directs Philza.
Easy enough. Philza feels the strange (natural?) superposition of the Egg's urging over his own decisions, but it's fine. He would have done so either way.
"Hey mate," Phil greets with a gentle grin. The same way he's always woken Techno in the absence of an emergency. "How you feeling?"
"Same as usual," Techno replies, rubbing his eyes. "Mm, Chat's loud for some reason. Where are we?" He sits up and casts a tense glance around the unfamiliar surroundings. Chat seems to have mostly settled from waking up, a good 80% of it is yelling NO EGG, RUN loudly while another 10% yells YES EGG. It's all such a muddle he can hardly make anything out.
"Somewhere safe," Philza replies easily, supporting Techno's shoulders. Any minute thing to make him happier, as ordered. "A new base, I guess you could say."
The Egg sends a surge of pride to Philza. He's doing well, and should be rewarded for it. Wrap him in your wings. Do not let him leave.
Philza's glad to oblige (is he?). He sits beside Techno and wraps him in a big hug, tucking his head into his shoulder and putting his wings as a barrier between them and the rest of the world. He lets a contented sigh and smile escape.
Techno is a bit surprised and unnerved... Phil doesn't usually do this without reason, whether for his comfort or the hug's target. And since Techno is fine... "You alright?" Techno asks, patting Phil's back tentatively. Phil just nods and totally relaxes, basking in the comfort of Techno in his arms and The Egg’s approval.
The Egg moves closer, sending his core essence to be sitting beside them, though neither of them can see it, he suspects Philza will know he is near, and that he is watching.
Keep him safe. Keep him happy.
The wing closer to The Egg's core twitches slightly, though Phil doesn't consciously react. He's content to just keep Techno as-is. Techno, on the other hand, is getting a little concerned. He pulls back from the hug and presses a hand to Phil's forehead to check for any signs of sickness, maybe? There's nothing, though...
"You feelin' ok?" He asks tentatively. "We should uh... probably get somethin' to eat. Come on."
Phil frowns and gives a sad little chirp as Techno moves out of his grip. That's not right, that's not what the Egg said—
Oh, he's hungry? Of course! Phil can fix that at least—he produces a golden carrot from his inventory and presses it into Techno's hands, who's a bit confused. Phil usually prefers to make breakfasts rather than using rations like the golden carrots.
"There you go!" Phil chirps. "Just fine."
The Egg's core pulses slightly in disapproval.
Potatoes, not carrots. You know better. I want him happy, not suspicious. He's suspicious. Make him comfortable.
Phil sulks at The Egg's disapproval, wings drooping. "Oh, did you want something else? Sorry mate, but I don't have anything on me..."
Techno takes him by the shoulders firmly, frowning. "No, it's—where are we? How did we get here?"
"I told you, a new base. I brought you while you were sleeping," Phil explains, and it's not a total lie. Chat knows better, though, and erupts in a chorus of SUSZA?? Techno winces but frowns, squinting down at Phil.
The Egg decides to show himself by then, but not as a person, of course. Another voice will do. He brings the knife up to the connection between Techno and Chat once again.
Shall I silence them for you, Chosen?
Techno jerks back, looking around for any source of the strange, distorted voice which he could feel sat distinct while also being drowned out by the flurry of commotion, of honest-to-god fear from most of Chat. "What?" He asks, on edge. Phil makes a sound of dismay and puts a hand to Techno's cheek, patting it softly and cooing reassuringly. It's okay, it's okay.
Shall I silence... what do you call them... Chat? The Egg asks again, but more firmly this time. He wants an answer. He sends another wave of calm to Philza, to hope to show that, well, if Phil is calm and relaxed, then it must be safe.
Phil responds instantly, easily. He gives Techno another hug, feathers rustling as they flutter contentedly. Techno frowns but pulls him close, protective. Something is clearly off. "What? I—what are you?"
Safety. Protection. I'm many things. You're safe here, though. Did I miss someone, another person you care for? I can have them brought, if you require.
At the mention of "someone you care for", Techno tenses and holds Phil even tighter. "What did you do to him?" He demands.
Phil reaches up to cup Techno's face in his hands. "Sh sh sh sh," he soothes. "It's okay, I'm okay, Tech. You're safe."
"Phil—" Techno responds, nervous now. Chat is still 60% EGG BAD, RUN, though some have pivoted to DADZA. "What did you do to him?" He repeats, voice sharp.
I've brought him to you. The Egg responds placatingly. He's here, and he's safe. Isn't that what you would want for him? Safety?
"We were just fine," Techno snaps, removing Phil's hands from his face and squeezing them reassuringly. The look of pure concern on Phil's face makes his heart hurt. "We're not interested in whatever you're selling. Let him go and let us out."
The Egg sends another wave of happiness and comfort to Phil— it's— these are good emotions. His Chosen is very confusing. It's alright though. Maybe Chat is being too loud for him to understand that this is a good thing for them both— that they're safe now.
Is Chat being mean again? Do I need to quiet them so you can think, first?
Phil practically melts at the wave of strong comfort, purring and leaning into Techno. Techno catches him easily but grits his teeth. This is wrong.
"No," he snaps. "Don't touch them. I've got a lot more trust in 'em than I ever could in... you."
The Egg laughs. More trust in Chat than him? Someone Technoblade would give anything to?
I find that hard to believe. You've chosen my guidance over theirs multiple times.
"What are you?" Techno demands.
The Egg hums to himself, trying to decide how much he will tell, and how much he even knows. He's never cared for the type of answer Techno wants, he simply is.
A friend of one of your ancestors, He offers, to start, an acquaintance of yours, he adds before pausing, and perhaps someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
Techno lets out a legit growl. He's fed up with this, he doesn't have anything to stab BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD that will fix it— he doesn't know what's wrong with Phil—
"And what—" he snaps, "would you claim to know better than I do."
The Egg chuckles. How about the fact that you'd die for Tommy without a second thought, even though he's betrayed you at every turn?
Techno sucks in a breath and wraps an arm around Phil possessively. "What do you even want," he deadpans.
You. The Egg responds. Your safety and comfort with me. Why do you think I brought you Philza to comfort you, when I could have just as easily sent him away for good?
Phil coos reassuringly at the sound of his name, content as he is against Techno's chest, and Techno glances down at him briefly. "No," Techno rebuts. "That's the hook, I know how deals like this work. What do you actually want? My blade? Do you want me to be your weapon like—" welel, that wasn't important now. "Do you need power? Blood?"
Nothing like that. The only "catch" is that you stay.
"Why?" Techno demands. "What good does that do you?"
Oh, nothing. The Egg laughs. I don't need you, I just want you. Consider it... a debt repaid to your ancestor.
"A pet then?" Techno exclaims, suddenly queasy. "A trophy?! You want to stick me on a shelf somewhere due to the actions of someone I've never heard of?"
I'm not quite sure what you'd be. Maybe a pet, but not a trophy. Trophies just sit and do nothing, you'll be showered in everything you could ever want. For example, I could bring you your brothers. I am bringing you your brothers.
It feels like his throat has shut itself, suddenly. "Wilbur is dead," he forces out. "Tommy hates me. There's nothing you can do about that."
The Egg laughs. The utter amusement at the concept seeps over to Techno's mind.
"Wilbur is dead," Techno repeats, more thoughtfully this time. "To reverse that... you'd have to have power such as a god. Are you a god?" He pauses again. "And you clearly have mind control of some sort. Phil's a clear enough example—any apology you make him give doesn't count, y'know. I won't accept it."
I never said they would apologize. The Egg chuckles, entirely ignoring Techno's first question. And would it make you feel better if I gave Phil a looser leash? I can— easily.
"Just—let him go," Techno responds, something akin to—not defeat, never defeat, but... something resigned. Despairing. "He doesn't—this isn't right. This isn't him. And he doesn't... deserve this because of me."
The Egg hums. He won't let Philza go— Philza took far too long to even get in the first place. But he'll loosen the leash anyways. He can tighten it back up just as easily as he loosened it.
Calm him. The Egg orders before letting the leash go slack.
It's a strange shift, in that it doesn't totally feel like a shift until Phil blinks and suddenly he knows that his previous thoughts had been syrupy. Not bad, but... definitely affected.
Still, there's one last impulse rattling around, and it's one he agrees with. "Mate—hey, hey, Techno..." he addresses gently, taking Techno by the hands and looking up at him. His expression is a careful mix of concern and analysis, and that hidden sharpness is exactly what had been lacking before. "It's okay..."
Techno's shoulders fall as he barely chokes down a sob of relief. "Phil... are you—?"
"I'm fine," he assures softly. "Honest. It was a bit weird, sure, but not... in a bad way? It didn't hurt or anything."
"It was wrong," Techno insists.
Phil shrugs. He presses a gentle hand to Techno's temple. "Can you still hear him?" He asks, careful. "Is Chat still giving you hell?"
"Chat's fine," he whispers. "They don't like it. Him? What is it, Phil?"
The Egg watches the two with interest and looks back towards the tether between Techno and Chat. He takes it in his metaphorical hands and carefully shaves some of it away— not severing, just... quieting. Calming.
"He's the Crimson Egg," Phil replies simply, brushing a bit of Techno's hair to the side. "He's powerful, and he cares about you for some reason."
"The Egg..." Techno repeats. "That's the thing BadBoyHalo's obsessed with. It tried to hurt the kid."
Phil hums. "I dunno. I doubt it, though. Definitely could, but he doesn't want to make you mad at him, so I don't think he'd..."
"Why?" Techno asks, frustrated. "Why so much effort for—for no reason?! I've never even met it. It—" he freezes suddenly, glancing around as he listens to Chat—significantly more palatable Chat. What's wrong with them. "You messed with them," he accuses.
I calmed them down, that's all. They're alright. It's so much easier to think now, isn't it? I could make it even easier, if you want.
"You messed with them," Techno repeats, clutching onto that anger because he does not want to admit how much clearer it is like this.
"We've never met someone who can affect Chat before, not really," Phil muses, hand on his chin. "Maybe he knows more about them."
Techno sighs, drawing a hand across his face. "I'm not going to just be—a pet or, or put in a gilded cage just for some answers, Phil! I won't!" He insists. Phil hums and tilts his head noncommittally, and Techno looks at him in shock. "You don't—you don't think I should. Right, Phil?" There's a note of desperation in that last question.
Phil shrugs, leaning back and rustling his feathers. "I can't give you an unbiased opinion, mate. He's powerful, though. Stubborn. It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to you, I'd say."
"Phil..."
The Egg purrs to himself, pleased. Even with such a weak tether Phil is still so suggestable.
It would be safe here, Phil's right. I'm not even making him say it.
"Oh because I trust your word so much," Techno grumbles. Phil gives something between a sigh and laugh, shaking his head.
"If it would make you unhappy, it's a different story. But I honestly think you'd be fine, Techno. And we both know that most of your time recently hasn't been... great." He nudges Techno lightly with a wing. "You need to give it some thought, I think. Actually get to know him. You're making an incomplete judgement."
"I feel like getting kidnapped and being told to stay put and look pretty is a pretty reasonable judgement in and of itself, Phil," Techno points out. Phil just laughs.
The Egg laughs as well. What if I brought you this one?
As he says that, Bad walks in with a happy Ghostbur chatting with him. The blue in his hands has turned red and instead of the soft blue light he emanates, it looks more like a purple.
"Techno, Phil!" Ghostbur chirps happily. "Here, here, have some red. How are you?"
"Hello, Ghostbur," Phil greets with the melancholy smile he always gets around the ghost, accepting the red. "We're doin' alright mate, how about you?"
Techno stares at the fragment of Wilbur for a long moment, feeling a unique sort of despair set in at the glimpse of the changes. "Hey, Ghostbur," he eventually returns after a good few seconds, voice a bit faint.
Leave, The Egg sends to Bad, who waves at a corner of the room—seemingly at random—before bouncing out, his little wings fluttering behind him.
"Hi Techno! Take some red, you look like you need it!" Ghostbur smiles.
Would you stay if I fixed him?
Techno just looks at his twin's ghost for a long few seconds. A hand absentmindedly comes up to brush through the shoulder-length cut of his hair before he catches himself and wrenches his hand down, snapping his gaze away.
"Why do you even want... me so bad? There's no reasoning to it," Techno complains.
Do I need a reason? I simply am, I simply do.
"A lotta effort for no reason."
You think this is effort? The Egg laughs. You think I've had to even lift a finger for this?
"You..." it really is such a unique sense of despair, of futility brought forth by such a simple sentence. He feels so lost, because he can tell... it would be so easy to agree. He doesn't want to... but it would be so easy.
Would you listen to me if I had a human body? Would you take me more seriously if you had something to stab?
Techno crosses his arms. He's loath to answer at all, at this point, but... "Yeah," he allows. Chat whips into their usual frenzy at any even brief mention of fighting.
The Egg thinks over his options for a moment before making a decision, how fitting that he take the form of the man he's admiring.
Out from the shadows of the room comes an eerily accurate recreation of one Sir Billiam, in all his glory.
"Is this better, ~Commoner~? Haha, oh the things Sir Billiam used to say."
Techno takes a scrutinizing glance over the form. "Billiam?" He repeats.
Phil leans forward, hand on his chin as he inspects and compares the form himself. "You look like Techno, in a way... I guess this is the "ancestor" you were talking about?"
"Yes indeed— you needn't see my main human form yet. Well, stab away if you must!" 'Sir Billiam' offers, opening his hands out wide to reveal his body.
Chat roars in approval at the gesture, but when Techno's hand subconsciously moves to where his sword's hilt should be—there's a chill that wracks him as he realizes his complete lack of weapons. Not that he's defenseless, but—that's—
He turns to Phil after a breath. "Do you have..."
Phil shakes his head and gives an apologetic smile. "Wasn't allowed to bring it here, sorry."
Techno stands stock still for a long second, connecting the dots of what the Egg is expecting here.
'Sir Billiam' keeps his arms wide and raises a brow. "Well? Blood for the Blood God, no? That's what they're saying, unless you want me to quiet them for good."
Techno takes a long, deep breath. Stop. Consider. Figure something out.
And then in a flurry of movement he breaks off the wooden leg of the bed with a well-placed kick and swings the makeshift weapon—still with a couple nails poking out the end—at the form.
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD
'Sir Billiam' chuckles. "Resourceful." He says as the broken leg stabs into his chest. No blood comes out, just a puff of red-tinted gas that Techno can barely see. Phil relaxes noticeably as he takes a deep breath in.
"Would you like some blood?" 'Sir Billiam' jokes as a small stream of lava starts to pool out from the wound, setting the wooden leg ablaze.
Techno growls and batters him repeatedly with the flaming makeshift maul until the flames lick too close to his hand. At the point he chucks the remainder of the weapon at 'Billiam's' head at full force before pulling another leg off the bed and attacking again in a fit of fury.
'Sir Billiam' lets Techno go, though with each stab another puff of gas expands into the room. By the time Techno tires himself out (or, more accurately, runs out of legs to stab 'Sir Billiam' with), both Phil and Ghostbur are sitting on the floor, leaning up against one another, nearly asleep from the comfort and relaxation.
As the last makeshift weapon crumbles in his grip Techno steps back, teeth gritted as he paces the room like a caged predator, gaze locked on 'Billiam' and searching for any sign of weakness. He notices his family leaning against each other after a moment and immediately drops next to them, hovering and looking for any sign of harm with wide eyes. "What did you do to them?" He demands.
"Oh, not much." 'Sir Billiam' shrugs. "Every attack you made gave them a boost of comfort. They're just happy and relaxed."
Techno turns to 'Billiam' with a stricken look on his face. "The—" He cuts himself off and turns back to Phil, shaking his shoulders with a barely-concealed desperation. "Phil?"
Phil leans into Techno's touch, attaching himself to his chest like an urchin and making a flurry of contented chirps, barely conscious. Techno curls around him protectively, helpless anger beating against his chest, trying to escape but having nothing to do. So he just curls around Phil and shakes a little bit, unable to do anything with his anger but fanning the embers in his chest regardless. Refusing to let go of that feeling.
"Shall I wake them up?" He asks. "I saw no reason for them to worry while you fought, but if you're done for now..." 'Sir Billiam' offers.
"Why can't you just leave us alone?!" Techno snaps. "There's no point to this!"
'Sir Billiam' fondly rolls his eyes. "Oh come on now, we already had this conversation. I don't need a reason for my actions."
"Well I need a reason!" Techno yells. "I'm gonna let you Helen of Troy me just because you—" his words catch in his throat and he pulls Phil tighter, pressing his forehead against his blonde hair to ground himself.
'Sir Billiam' tuts. "I have told you, your ancestor was good to me, so now I will repay the care he gave me to you. You're too interesting to be in constant danger."
"So, what, this is a favor? I don't want it," Techno rebuts.
"Not a favor—not anymore. I've had many ancestors to choose from, and I chose you. This may have started as a favor to Sir Billiam but it has become much more. Since the moment you stepped onto this server you have been mine."
"No."
'Sir Billiam' laughs. "No? Really? You owe me your life, Technoblade."
"I owe you nothing of the sort," Techno replies stiffly.
'Sir Billiam' raises a brow. "No? But what if I looked like this..." He hums before the pig-esque form melts away revealing a near perfect replication of Dream, though he is wearing red rather than green.
Techno still and looks over the form before huffing. "I owe you nothing. Just because you can shapeshift to look like Dream means nothing."
Dream chuckles. "So you admit you owe him a silly life debt? If he cashed it in, you would have to stay?"
"Favors are funny things..." Techno replies carefully. "Their value lies entirely within the eye of the beholder. A favor like that may buy you time, but it could not make me forfeit my life. It would make the entire thing pointless in the first place, in that case."
"Hm." Dream chuckles. "How about a challenge, then? I'll get you an opponent, and if you can beat them in a fight, you're free to go. For now, at least."
Techno considers Dream carefully. Glances down at the winged hybrid in his arms, and the ghost curled against the wall. "What about Philza and Ghostbur?"
"They'll be the audience. Make sure nothing funny happens."
"And if I win, they come with me?"
"Their bodies will. As for their minds, you don't know." Dream shrugs evilly. "I might keep their leash, I might drop it, I might give it to you."
Techno grits his teeth but knows this is the best deal he's likely to get. "Return me my weapons and armor, and fine. I'll spar your little 'opponent'."
"Oh no, I'm getting you new materials. You and your opponent will both have full diamond. Sound familiar?"
"Fine," Techno deadpans, pulling his will tighter to himself. He has a goal now, focus on that. Blood for the blood god.
Dream laughs, and he snaps his fingers. Techno's body is instantly covered in diamond, and materials appear in his inventory.
"Now then, time to meet your opponent." Dream laughs before he snaps again, and they appear in an arena.
Techno stands in the center, and Phil and Ghostbur—awake, one more—sit in the stands. Vines tie them to their chairs.
The door across from where Techno stands opens, and Dream walks out, but... he's different.
His mask is nowhere to be seen, and instead of whites and green irises, his eyes are solid red.
Techno smooshes the urge to call, to try and gauge whether his opponent is Dream or just another illusion of the egg. His grip on the diamond sword tightens and he flicks it once as a test while stepping back into a ready stance. (It's perfectly just weighted like he likes, what—)
Dream raises a diamond axe towards Techno.
"I'm not going to let you leave, Technoblade." He calls. "You're going to stay."
He hasn't done any stretches or anything. Ah, well—he's done worse before.
He narrows his eyes and slowly advances, beginning to circle slightly and watching Dream for a first move. "I won't," he promises.
Dream continues to stand where he is. This isn't how he normally fights... Normal Dream is all motion, all the time. This Egg version of him is just... still.
"I find it hard to believe. You won't be able to kill me."
"I don't have to," Techno replies, swapping out for a fishing rod and aiming to hook this wrong-Dream from a distance. "I just have to beat you."
"No." Dream says, side-stepping the rod. "You cannot leave until I am dead. Until I am dead for good."
"What?" Techno asks, snapping the rod back to his side and taking a slight step back. He didn't really internalize the lack of a mask until he realizes just how open his expressions feel now and he quickly schools it back to determined. Angry. "That was not the agreement."
"You never set an end condition. You left that to me."
"And I agreed to spar. You said I had to 'beat' you. Neither of those equate to permadeath."
Dream chuckles, and sends a crossbow bolt towards Techno, grazing his cheek. "You think you've beaten me when you put me down once? How weak do you think I am?"
Techno grimaces and glances up at the stands. At Phil and Ghostbur, both of whom are leaning forward trying to watch curiously. Ghostbur seems just content to watch the show, but Phil looks to be analyzing, that clever spark in his eyes.
Techno turns back to Dream with a renewed determination and rushes him, going for another couple tries with the rod before switching to the sword to follow up.
Dream let's his arm get hit before sending a slash of his own.
He dents the armor Techno is wearing.
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD is all Techno can hear, although the majority of the voices are still muffled from whatever the Egg pulled earlier. He doesn't let the dent faze him and presses his attack, leaning into the haze of bloodlust and letting his strikes get faster, harder.
Dream hardly flinches with each attack made against him, holding up a shield to block easily. Each strike of his own is made with precision, speed, and power, denting Techno's armour each time and leaving him weaker and weaker. Techno only now notices that, even though he's hit Dream many times, his blade is clear of blood.
Techno honest-to-god growls at that realization, bringing down a heavy vertical strike which Dream parries seemingly effortlessly. This clash locks them in a stalemate for a second, Techno shaking slightly from the exertion as he tries to overpower Dream's grip.
Dream's grip never wavers.
"What's wrong, ready to admit that you're fighting a losing battle?" Dream taunts.
Techno says nothing, just continuing to try and press Dream's blade out of his hands. He doesn't quite hear Dream at all, really, between the clamoring from Chat and his own mind desperately trying to put together a solution. (Let's not even mention the tears beginning to prick at the backs of his eyes, which he resolutely forces back down. He's not going to cry, no matter how hopeless, useless the situation seems—)
Dream's blade doesn't even twitch.
He sighs.
"I'm getting bored of this. The Egg has decided that you will stay. But perhaps..." Dream mutters before flicking his own blade and sending Techno's across the room. "You can have a compromise."
Techno stumbles back out of swinging range automatically at the disarm, tracking his blade as it's flung across the arena. There's no way he could get to it in time, and anyway... it's not like it was doing him much good, was it?
He drags his gaze back to meet Dream's eyes. "What," he asks, flatly. Tired. Frustrated.
"You'll leave. The egg will hand you a new leash. If you can protect them all, and prove that you can sit pretty in your own home, then you can move as you please." Dream says, monotone. It's clearly not him speaking on his own anymore. "Otherwise, you return to our protection with your family. And we mean all of them, this time. It wouldn't do good to have people you care for threatened."
Techno grits his teeth, glaring at Dream but... there's also a resignation in that face. "...what do you mean, leash?" He asks quietly.
Leave.
Dream form turns, and exits the arena. Shortly after, another version of Dream—the same one the Egg took earlier, with the red cloak, returns.
You will hold the same leash I do. Dream says, before snapping his fingers. Ghostbur and Philza appear next to him, but this time Techno can see the faintest line of red weaving around their throats, connected to a string grasped tightly in Dream's palm.
Techno lets out a long breath, feeling distinctly sick at the visual of the Egg's control over them. "And, what. I just have to 'protect them'?"
And yourself. Your job is to prove to me that you can be allowed freedom of movement while still being my prize. I won't be leaving you alone, of course, but you will be allowed to move as you please.
"'Prize'..." Techno repeats under his breath. He crosses his arms and curls into himself just a little bit, glaring at nothing in particular. "Fine. Whatever."
Dream smirks with a smile and extends his hand, waiting for it to be shook.
Techno takes a breath and hesitantly reaches out, pulling his hand back halfway with a glare before sealing the deal. "What's the end date? What's the failure condition?"
You'll know.
"Nope, nuh-uh, gonna need something more concrete than that."
Dream chuckles. When they cry in pain, you have failed.
"Oh, joy," Techno mutters. "And you're not gonna interfere?"
Not in the way you worry I will.
Techno rolls his eyes, bringing a hand to rub at his forehead. "And how long do I need to do this for it to be 'proven'?"
For each month you pass, you get one chance to fail.
Techno freezes at that, sending Dream a stricken look. "What does that—you want me to sign onto this indefinitely?"
Would you prefer I keep you here indefinitely?
"That's—" Techno looks at Phil helplessly, as though he would have some magical answer to fix it all. "This is bullshit."
And?
Techno looks between his family locked in the Egg's grip and thinks about himself, utterly unable to make any effect on Dream in battle and feels himself despair. His arms go lax, and he stares at the ground numbly.
"...you said somethin' about resurrectin' Wilbur."
Yes. I can.
"Elaborate."
What more is there to say? I will merge Ghostbur and Deadbur back together and give them life.
"Do you know if... he even wants that?" Techno asks dully.
Ghostbur doesn't know any better. Deadbur would do it for you.
Technoblade drags his gaze back up to meet Dream's again. He's tired. "I'll think about it," he replies. He extends his hand. "Freedom," he deadpans in a reminder of the established agreement.
Dream nods, and shakes Techno's hand firmly.
Three distinct strands of red wrap tightly around his hand before sinking under the skin with a flash. Techno can feel three minds exist parallel to his own, though he can't quite tell which is which yet, he knows it would be effortless to bend them.
Techno's mind blanks a little bit at the sudden connection, losing his grip on his body and stumbling some as it reorientation itself. The panic and the last concrete wish combine to tug at the strings without thinking, and Phil has caught him in an instant, pulling Techno into his chest and running a hand through his hair soothingly.
"Phil?"
"You're okay, mate," Phil assures, lowering them to kneeling carefully. "I've got you. You're fine."
Dream watches them smugly, feeling Techno pull at his father for comfort without thinking.
Soon enough he will get used to the feeling, and he will accept when Dream hands him more red strings.
Techno blinks, lax against Phil's chest, trying to clear out his mind without bumping into the strings (as he has thoroughly visualized them as). He turns his gaze back to Dream after a few moments.
"What was... there are three. Why."
I gave you the leashes attached to your family.
"But that's..."
"One of them'll be Tommy's then, shouldn't it?" Phil fills in. Techno looks at him for a long moment before dragging his gaze back to Dream's questioningly.
Dream chuckles. Not yet. I'm still working on him. No, no. This family member was much easier to ensnare.
"What...?" Techno mutters, trying to sort through the links and figure it out. They're hard to focus on, though, like trying to grab onto a piece of melting ice.
Phil tugs Techno a bit closer and rests his chin on the top of his head soothingly, wrapping his wings around them loosely. Ghostbur floats over after a moment and tucks himself into Techno's other side wordlessly.
How adorable, all cuddled up. Now isn't that the life, Chosen. Dream chuckles. You can have this forever now.
Techno glowers at Dream. You're being mean, he doesn't want to be here anymore...
Phil laughs and picks Techno up, standing and keeping him tight and secure to his chest. "C'mon mate, lets get home."
Ghostbur keeps a hand in Techno's, floating alongside the two cheerfully.
Dream waves mockingly before vanishing into the shadows.