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Ch. 6—withdrawal

After stepping over the barrier, everything seemed to come back to him at once. His senses, coordination, the air in his lungs, it all returned to Tubbo in one fell swoop. He gulped up fresh breaths like water. The air tasted almost sweet and far better than whatever the hell he was breathing in back when he was underground.

He was on a hilltop overlooking the kingdom. If it weren't for the moon hanging above him, a halo wedged between two clouds, he'd believe it was still daytime just by the sheer activity of the capital that he looked down on and began hurriedly walking towards, in hopes of finding Tommy among the humans that bustled to and fro. 

All of them, Tubbo noticed, seemed to be on edge to some degree. Some—mages, he assumed, still had hands that smoked from magical attacks, others were curtly bandaging wounds and he was sure he caught sight of a lizardlike beast that was around the size of a donkey being fed a slab of meat, perhaps as a reward for its efforts in the recent battle. 

Nobody paid him any mind as he slipped onto the cobblestone streets and began to make his way towards the castle, they were all busy talking about oncoming war, how they planned to train even more vigorously if the demons persisted. They were all seeking victory, victory and bloodshed. They didn't seem to care that it was immoral, they didn't seem to care that the All-Knowing had initially forbidden it—they just wanted to please their leader. 

Either that, or the humans really were more violent than he thought they'd be. 

He stepped easily past the guards at the gate, who scrunched their noses and glared at him in distaste as he passed. He tried knocking at the doors into the entry hall, but it seemed as if Technoblade had been anticipating his arrival for some time, because the doors swung open the moment his hand met the oak. 

His eyes were cold for a few moments before he fully registered Tubbo. Techno's gaze softened for a few seconds. "Oh. I was about to kick your ass under the assumption that you were Jschlatt or something—I take you're looking for Tommy?" 

He was being suspiciously hospitable for Tubbo's tastes, the normal Technoblade was blunt and cut right to the chase without any formalities, but that was the last of his worries when he pushed past the pink-haired man and tanked a tackle-hug from his brother with a soft oof. 

Well, at least until he started cursing him out. 

"Tubbo, might I ask, where the fuck were you? Just a question. Do you have any goddamn clue how worried I was? You almost gave me a heart attack, idiot, and that shouldn't even be possible." Tubbo shrank under his sapphire gaze, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing nervously. 

"Yeah, um- about that, I gotta tell you something—Techno, do you mind?" He glanced back, feeling kind of bad seeing as it was his castle that he just waltzed into. The Blade seemed indifferent and waved them away with a shrug. 

The way he looked at him, though, with narrowed eyes that were but icy red pinpricks, eyes that made him shiver even though they probably didn't mean any harm towards him specifically. 

Tubbo was beginning to think that he knew a lot more than he was letting on.

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When it comes to defending his pride, Technoblade was never one to fuck around. He had forged his crown with nothing but his own blood and sweat. The Demon King was stupid to believe that he, the cold and ruthless militarist ruler of the north, wasn't on guard for an attack. He learned a long, long time ago that those who weren't always vigilant died in one way or another. Resting easy was but a weakness, and weakness always leads to nothing but failure. 

So, when Dream and his forces rushed the border, they asked for a bloodbath. 

They were all dazed initially, the attack took even him by surprise, but they made haste with regrouping from there. His unforgiving training system proved efficient when the Demons made their retreat after around fifteen minutes of battle. Neither side had any casualties as far as he could tell, and Technoblade had gained a valuable pawn amidst the bloodshed. 

The weak died. Such was the truth of this world. 

And when he drove his opposers back, the slowest just got caught in the crossfire. In the moment, everyone was seeking only to survive, there was no such thing as searching for fallen allies or trying to make peace. When Dream fled, the rest at his heels, they left behind not only a rather embarrassing loss, but another loaded gun for his enemies. 

Technoblade didn't really want to take war captives, he was interested in taking George specifically because of how close he, Dream, and...what was his name? Snapmap? Something along those lines, he was bad with names. Anyways,  the three were practically inseparable from when he saw them chatting with his border scouts. For a time, even he grew friendly towards them and welcomed the trio into the capital with open arms, but even close ties like those grew thin when politics were thrown into the mix. He couldn't care less for friendships if it meant stepping down against an opponent. 

He had called to speak with Jschlatt under the threat that if he didn't show up, he would mail him George's head in a cardboard box with all the shipping information written in blood (he was only half-joking). But Techno didn't really expect him to actually arrive, the bastard wouldn't give a flying fuck unless he personally went down and dragged him to the overworld by the ear—which he definitely was not doing. 

So when Tubbo appeared at his doorstep instead of the goat-man, he wasn't exactly surprised. There was something that worried him, ever so slightly, however. It was either the fact that the kid reeked of sulfur or that he was anxiously pulling at his fingers. Whether it be him asking first for Tommy, the mentioned having caused more havoc than Schlatt did when he came storming to him first in search of his brother. It took a bit more than just eloquence to calm him down enough for him to sit still and stop pacing the floor which in turn got mud all over his carpets. 

Techno didn't want any part in whatever they were discussing but by how they were urgently whispering to each other in low, tense spurts of words that he didn't care to comprehend, there was certainly something going on that he had no insight on. 

But Technoblade wasn't stupid, either. He knew from the moment Tubbo turned up instead of Jschlatt that the twins had turned on them at last. The smell of sulfur, the same smell that followed the Demon King wherever he went. 

He thought—no, he knew for a fact that, if it wasn't by force then by sweet words and kind offers, Jschlatt was planning to gain the favor of not one but two divine beings. 

And when he did, all hell would break loose upon them. Literally.