Soon it was every night that Technoblade was sneaking out to ease the tension that spilled from his nightmares. Instead of going into the forest, however, he found a chasm and explored that, dodging creepers and smashing skeletons. Zombies crumpled under the strokes of his blade and spiders lay in bleeding halves on the stone floor. He never actually brought back anything except his injuries.

Kai wanted to bind up his brother's wounds, but Techno refused, promising instead to let Kai braid his hair afterwards. "Well...okay," the avian acquiesced, "but you have to tell me what's wrong. Promise me, Tech. I want to know what's happening."

The request of a promise halted Technoblade as he was starting up the stairs. He looked back at Kai, who stood by the bannister, grey wings curled around himself, hands clasping the railing with the faintest signs of roughness appearing on the backs of them. Part of his avian maturity cycle, Philza said. Kai's violet eyes stared at him, but without their usual melancholy; concern and frustration filled them instead, hinting to Techno just how long Kai had been aware of his struggles. The piglin hybrid looked down at the steps. "Sure. I'll tell you later." Looking away, he continued up the stairs. But he didn't go to his room.

It was early in the morning; he knew Philza would be on the roof, caring for the flowers before the sun rose high enough to begin drying their soil again. Opening the door that led out onto the rooftop garden, Techno stepped into a grey-gold dawn that muted every color into a gentle glow. The Angel was kneeling among the daisies and tulips, a watering can in one hand, carefully holding the leaves of the flowers aside as he poured water over the dirt that kept them alive. He was humming something, a song Techno knew this time but wasn't inclined to identify. His green and white hat was laid on a chair nearby and both wings were unfurled, spread wide over nearly the whole garden.

Techno sat down where he was, gathering his hair into an impromptu bun to keep it out of the way. The leather thongs Ranboo had given him were used exclusively for this purpose. He waited, watching as Phil, profiled against the farther trees of the forest, attended to his plants with a care Techno found it rude to interrupt.

He didn't have to wait long. As usual, Phil must've heard the sound of his hooves on the wooden floor. "You're early, Techno." He commented. He got a grunt in response. Glancing towards the hybrid, he sighed at the sight of the bruises and the cuts that seeped blood through Techno's clothes. The Angel got to his feet. "Mate," he began, "what have you been doing?"

Techno's ears flopped downwards and he would not meet Philza's eyes. "Fightin'." He muttered. "In the woods."

"At night, or so it seems." Phil remarked, stepping past Techno and holding the door open for him. "Let's get you patched up." They headed downstairs to the living room again and then through the kitchen down to Philza's workshop, which had a section devoted to being something of a medicine pantry. Techno took off his shirt, put it next to him, and sat down silently on the table, tapping the edge of the wooden surface and watching Phil search for bandages and fill up a bowl with clean water from an installed pump. When he came back and set the bowl beside Techno, Philza paused, eyeing the sullen expression on the young man's face. "Mate, this is the third time in three days. Or nights. What's happened?"

At first Techno tapped his hooves on the ground and didn't answer. Then, when Philza didn't move, he said, "Was fightin', like I said."

"Techno, you're not even fighting like I know you can. You shouldn't have wounds at all. So why do you?"

Thoughts, both in pictures and words, trotted round and round in the hybrid's mind without him settling on any in particular. "I'm...I...." His fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

Phil laid a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me, mate. You're fighting something inside yourself and it's not going well. Tell me what you need." There was a persistence in his tone Techno knew wouldn't go away. He could feel his ears droop lower as he made up his mind.

"I've been...havin' dreams lately. Nightmares, more like." He confessed. Phil nodded and he saw the Angel straighten, beginning to work on his injuries while he talked. "They're not all that clear," Techno said, "and tryin' to piece them together in the day is harder than at night. But...they're nightmares, Phil. I don't know what to do with them, besides drive them off." A pain flared up in his side as Phil applied some liquid to one of the deeper cuts and he winced.

"Sorry, mate." Phil said quickly, covering the wound with a soft cloth. "I'll be done with it soon." Humming thoughtfully, he started wrapping a long white strip of wool around Techno's waist. "What're these nightmares about?"

"Promised I'd tell Kai." Technoblade replied. "And I don't wanna talk about it twice." At first he thought Phil would leave it there, but instead the Angel just walked to the door, opened it and called up the stairs.

"Kai? Kai, can you come down here a second? I need your help with something." Coming back, he ignored the look Techno gave him and continued cleaning his cuts.

Kai's footsteps were quiet, as usual, and neither actually heard him when the avian opened the door, only realizing his presence when he advanced a step or two into the room. Techno saw his movement and glanced up. The young man was somewhat pale, but he showed no sign of leaving. "Dad?" He asked quietly. "What is it?"

Without looking up, Philza spread out a wing to Kai, beckoning him forward. "Techno, apparently, has a story for us. There's a stool over there, if you'd like."

Techno shut his eyes. It was always easier for him to recall things in the dark, and though he hadn't wanted to tell Phil, or Kai, like this, nevertheless he didn't want to turn aside from it either. Images swirled in his mind and at first he was just trying to organize them, but after nearly half a minute they began to settle and he was able to begin. Without opening his eyes, he picked out a word and started there. "It's...it was...hard for me to understand the concept of individuality when I was young. People would say "I" or "me" and they just meant themselves, as a singular person. I couldn't understand how they contained all that was needed to make a real person in just one form, but...I got it eventually. But the reason I didn't understand...do either of you already know about the others of me?" Looking up now, he saw Kai, who'd put his stool against the farthest wall, swaying from side to side and watching the floor, his head tilted to the right.

"No." He said quietly. Techno wasn't sure if his little brother even knew what he was talking about; he could hardly remember exactly what he had or had not told any of them, especially Phil, but a starting point was at least helpful.

"I suppose," Phil remarked, "you mean Theseus." At first Techno couldn't remember when he'd told the Angel about that name, and he glanced at Phil in confusion. "You've said that name in your sleep before." Philza clarified.

"Oh. Well..." Techno drew in a breath. "Theseus was the last of my brothers. My first brothers, though we hardly thought of ourselves like that."

Philza nodded and kept on his work. The smell of the sour liquid he was using that stung in Technoblade's wounds sparked another memory, though faintly. Everything about that time was faint in the daylight, only coming back in darkness, when Techno's mind recalled what he suppressed when he could in his waking hours.

"Theseus was the last because he was the last survivor, besides me." It was already getting hard to breathe. Techno gripped the table until his knuckles turned white, forcing his eyes closed so he could see what he needed to. "Really, there were six of us, includin' me, though I'm the youngest. Even Theseus wasn't the eldest, he was more of a middle sibling. Fray was the oldest, and the first one to hear the Voices. Not all of us heard them. Just him, Tantalus and me. But after Fray was Virus, and then there was Tantalus, Theseus, Hearth and me. We named ourselves, they didn't see the use of names and called us by our order of creation."

Vaguely he felt the touch of Phil's hand, somewhere on his back. "They?" The question appeared and was absorbed almost as a matter of course.

Techno made an effort to anchor himself in the present, but it was difficult. Memories were always so vivid, which was why he tried blocking them in the first place. "The Faceless Men. I don't know who they were or...really what they were. They wanted Blood gods. The perfect one, really. Every day we were there, it was tests and tests and tests and tests. How strong will your rage make you? Can you still think? Distinguish friend from foe? How far will you go?" He was brought up sharp by another touch, this time on his chest. He didn't have to open his eyes to know Phil was standing in front of him, and that he'd been somehow walking around without realizing it.

Go on. Go on. -Maggieslarue
Yoooooo we get looooorrrrrrreeee! -Moss
The smell of angst is sweet. -whynotapinecone
Oh look! More enemies to kill! -miradragonz
Yes! A Voice like me! -Thorn
Hush it's blanket time now gimme. -Jerry

Techno sat down again, not exactly sure where he was. But he didn't want to stop talking now or he'd be drawn back out of it, that familiar feeling that was throbbing in his heart, the same feeling that had beaten like a heartbeat through his whole body when he was with the other parts of himself. "We hated them, in our own ways, and tried to outsmart them or kill them or fight back somehow. Fray was the strongest and could crush a man's head with his hands if he tried. Delight was...not really an emotion he felt, so much as satisfaction and fulfilment. To kill was to be who he was supposed to be, and it was in a fight that he was most at peace with those around him. None of the Faceless got that, though. They thought he was just a dumb brute."

There were scents now, added to the pounding within him. Techno could smell something absurdly clean...something he never smelled in this house. It smelled like white walls, like rubber gloves and shining needles. His muscles twitched as he held himself back from lashing out at that smell.

How dare they. -Rose
You have no power here!
Bump and crash and scrape and scratch.
Heehee underestimation, our beloved -Wasp81

"Virus fought..." Techno said, speaking slowly now, "mostly with his mind, deceiving his enemies into thinking they had him under control, into relaxing. Then he would bite and snatch and kill. He was the cleverest of us, but not the most intelligent, though he could still stump any who came across his little puzzles. He liked playing with people, working them out and finding their weaknesses. But Tantalus...he was very different."

Ew, that's not even stylish -StarRadahn
White looks like a grin. -Lemon
Ladybugs Flies June Bugs
How many of us are there? -Cloud_Sunset
Spinny spin spin spinny
Hey, what's lore plus trauma? Us! -RavishRider28

It was getting a little  easier to control the smells and images in his head. Techno tapped the floor over and over again, making himself remember where he was now. "Tantalus saw pain as a means to further strength at first, but over time he grew addicted to it. He started being the first to present himself when the Faceless came to us and he would use our link to draw all the pain we experienced from each of us to himself. He loved it, I guess. At least it helped us when they came. Then there was Theseus, and he...was also different. He actually didn't like fightin' as much as we others did, preferrin' instead to think out battles. He was our strategist, lookin' for weaknesses like Virus did, but not usin' them the same way." The stone under his fingers was cold. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. "Theseus was our leader because he was the smartest and always tried to lead. But then...there was Hearth."

A small creak let him know Kai had moved on his stool. The Voices still chattered in his mind, but they were getting confused with each other so he could hardly understand them. Older Voices, those without names, were resurfacing and the newer ones were being sidelined, though they still managed to make themselves heard, if not comprehended.

Techno brought to mind the face of Hearth, exactly like his own, but the expression was gentler. Red eyes. Small tusks. Red-pink hair, thick and tumbling. The snout of the animals he and his brothers were supposed to be. "He was so different, even more than Theseus or Tantalus. Hearth...was...kind, and of all of us, the smartest, the most intelligent. He saw...he saw us, all our monstrous selves, and he loved. Hearth loved like none of us could on our own, which made his anger and cruelty all the worse when he was provoked. Through our link, he spread his support, his affection. He helped us take things, humiliations and subjections, we would never have been able to stand otherwise. And when it was all over, when we were thrown back, he was our comforter." The recollections of this brother in particular, however, were a mistake. Technoblade realized that almost as soon as he spoke of Hearth's role in their lives, for these images led him straight past many, many other memories and into one that ignited a rage in his heart that had long been buried, and never answered.

For it was of that first day, when the Faceless Men first showed true fear. Back and forth they raced in the hallways outside our cell, voices shoutin' orders and panic seepin' into every word. We could smell it, as well as hear it, and it nearly drove us wild with excitement. What would they do, now that they were trapped too? It wasn't what we thought, that's for sure.

We could take a lot, but when they flooded our room with some kind of ruined air, we couldn't last for long. We woke without Hearth. At first, I beat all my hands against the door and used all my strength to find a way out, to get to who they had taken. But then came the agony. I felt it, runnin' down the halls and floors, straight into us. Into me. It was Hearth. Hearth, our love, hurtin' worse than we'd ever felt before.

"What have they done?" Was all Theseus could say before Tantalus could draw no more to himself. We all-I felt-everythin', every flickerin' flame lickin' up our bones as our love was consumed in a fire I could not control or affect. It ate my eyes away, roasted my tongue inside my mouth as I screamed....

We never let them take me without a fight after that. No sleep. No air poisonin' my mind. Our rage fell too quickly, rushin' our enemies, blood spurtin' from what remained of Fray's head as the Faceless Men brought out smokin' guns. We never saw Virus, for we tried our old tricks and our cleverness was snuffed by brute force and indifference. Only the snappin' of bones and the disintegratin' rendin' of our flesh told us of our fate.

I was maddened by all the death, the sunderin' of our selves from the one that was me. We were thrown away like dangerous secrets. Brutalized by the crushin' weight of what took Virus, ground us to pieces so small we could never live or think again.

Tantalus lost my mind after Virus's death, after losin' the part of me that so easily fitted with our pleasure in pain and blood. We couldn't take it, fallin' apart so quickly. There was so much blood when we decided to end it all. Who knew a throat was so easily torn, even by despair?

Theseus...I was taken away. Not Theseus, but Technoblade. Taken to a place like where I was born, filled with thick water and a hold where I could be kept away. I was trapped. And then Theseus came. Our mind came and saved us. For we were still us. Us. Not one, not alone. Not yet. We killed those Faceless Men, we found a way out, we had been lookin' for so long it was easy now. So easy now. But we couldn't make it together. I'm not a fighter, Technoblade. That's why I'm bleedin'. That's why I can't walk. Run. Run. Run.

Alone.

Technoblade reached out, grasping for the hand that even then had pushed him away. Everything hurt, everything was tearing itself apart, in his mind, in his body, in his heart. Theseus broke into pieces before his eyes and the world tipped, splitting under his feet and falling, falling down towards a large crossed-out grin that opened large crossed-out eyes to watch as he hurtled towards it, unable to stop himself. He was alone. Just one person. One of six and all, all alone.