we can all learn things(just maybe in different ways.)

In Which, Finally, There is Peace

As I'm writing this right now this story is currently not on AO3 anymore(why? There's so much shit on AO3 worse than a fucking minecraft youtuber fanfiction I made because I like anarchy and crave a good sbi family dynamic). I'm probably gonna repost it if it doesn't get put back up within a week(it's currently been about three days since it was taken down so we'll see). I'm gonna wait to post this chapter until either it's been put back up on AO3 or I'm reposting it.

Techno blinked open his eyes, hearing the distant chirping of the birds. He allowed himself a moment to relax and breathe in the warm air before he rose, pushing his blanket off of himself and taking the time to make his bed.

Finally, after almost a month of constant terror and pain, he had time to spare again.

His leg was mostly healed, the only remains of the deadly black poison that had interlaced under his skin the deep gash on his lower leg. He sat in the chair beside his bed and pulled a bandage from a drawer in his desk, quickly swapping it out with the dirty one that had covered the wound overnight.

Walking wasn't as much of a challenge as it had been a couple of days ago. Now that he could move his leg without feeling like he was about to pass out from burning, bone-shattering pain it was significantly easier to keep his balance, though he still struggled and when he had attempted to practice fighting he had tumbled to the ground, almost twisting his leg and feeling a sharp jolt of pain shoot up his muscles when he tried to stand again.

He stood and grabbed the thin strip of leather from his desk, tying his hair in a loose bun that fell against the back of his neck before splashing water on his face from the tub beside his bed. Limping only slightly, he pushed open the door.

A cold breeze greeted him and he shut it quickly, his warm breath puffing in the chilly air. Reaching to the hooks beside his door, he took his thick cloak and clasped it around his neck before pulling his boots on and sliding his dagger into the sheath at his belt. His axe laid on his desk, the spotless netherite blade glinting in the lantern light. Techno relished in the lightness of relinquishing the burden of carrying that thing around. Not only was it heavy, but it was powerful. And at this point, he wasn't interested in power.

He remembered how he had woken up days ago, his leg aching, gritting his teeth and bracing for a wave of poison that never came. It turned out that milk got rid of the sickness much more efficiently than literally slashing open your own skin, not surprisingly. He had let out a soft groan of pain and tried to sit up just to fall against the headboard of the bed he had slept in for most of his life. His blurry vision took a few moments to focus but he had instantly recognized Phil's voice and seconds later Wilbur's and Tommy's.

He had had a lot of time to think about what he wanted to do. Abolishing a tyrannical government that had stood for centuries wasn't a one-and-done job. Sure, the king was dead, but that left hundreds of people and soldiers without a ruler to follow. Maybe they weren't living in fear anymore, but they had no experience in living a life without strict laws governing their every move.

But even so, when Quackity had asked Techno what he planned to do about the fact that the people were without a government, he simply responded with, "Nothing."

Sooner or later, a government would always turn corrupt. No matter how modern or complicated or simple the system was, whether it took a decade or a millennium, there would always be people enslaved by the rulers. Everything would collapse eventually, and all that would be left would be a smoking ruin of what someone years ago had thought was invincible. Techno didn't want to be foolish about this.

He let the door creak open again and he stepped into the fresh snow, his boots crunching in the new flakes. A few inches had fallen last night and suddenly the world once again reminded him of the months he had spent in self-exile. The glinting of the sun on the icy cobbled walls of the now-free kingdom was almost bright enough to blind him. Techno had realized that though the king was dead, he still didn't feel safe trapped in those walls. Sure, the cracked streets contained some of the warmest memories of his childhood, but they also contained the remains of government and tyranny. If anything, Techno wanted to start over completely, not rebuild the kingdom.