A Gentle Soul (Technoblade x reader)

LXVII

A sudden blow to the back of his head sent Philza sprawling to the ground. Darkness enveloped his consciousness as he fought to remain vigilant. The villagers, outnumbered and overwhelmed, could only watch helplessly as the flames danced higher, casting an eerie glow on the unfolding tragedy.

"Philza!" (Y/n) screamed. (y/n), bound and restrained, felt the heat of the flames inching closer. The pillagers, heedless of her pleas, reveled in the destruction they wrought. The village, once a haven of serenity, was now a smoldering ruin.

As Philza struggled to regain his senses, the pillagers intensified their assault. The air was thick with acrid smoke, and the crackling of flames drowned out all other sounds. The battle had taken a dire turn, and the fate of the village hung in a precarious balance.

In the midst of the chaos, (y/n) endured the chains that bound her, her eyes desperately searching for a glimmer of hope. The cloaked stranger, whose presence had lingered on the edge of perception, remained unseen, leaving the unfolding tragedy shrouded in uncertainty.

(y/n) fought with every ounce of strength, thrashing against the chains that bound her. However, the pillagers, driven by a ruthless determination, showed no mercy. In a brutal and swift move, one of them delivered a powerful blow, rendering her unconscious.

As her vision blurred and the world faded into darkness, (y/n) could feel the cold embrace of unconsciousness taking hold. The echoes of the village's destruction and the distant cries of the remaining inhabitants became distant murmurs, eventually succumbing to the silence of unconsciousness. The flames continued to dance, casting eerie shadows on the chaos that had unfolded.

In this state of vulnerability, (y/n) was at the mercy of those who had brought chaos to the peaceful village. The air hung heavy with despair as the pillagers reveled in their destructive conquest, leaving behind a once-thriving community reduced to ashes and sorrow.

...~<<<()>>>~...

Philza's eyes fluttered open, the dim light of the tent revealing the unfamiliar surroundings. A sense of disorientation washed over him as he tried to piece together the events that led him here. The soft rustling of the tent fabric hinted at the presence of someone nearby.

A weary voice, belonging to a doctor, spoke gently as Philza became more aware of his surroundings. "You've been unconscious for a week. A nasty concussion, but you're lucky to be alive."

Philza's hand instinctively went to his head, feeling the dull ache that accompanied a head injury. "What happened? Where am I?"

The doctor explained the grim events that transpired in the village—the ruthless pillagers, the destruction, and the capture of (y/n). The weight of the information sank in, and Philza's thoughts turned to (y/n). He needed to know if she was safe.

"Is (y/n) alright? What happened to her?" Philza's voice held a mix of concern and urgency.

The doctor hesitated before delivering the news, "I'm afraid they took her. The pillagers, they... took her captive."

A heavy silence settled over the tent as Philza processed the devastating reality. The once-peaceful village now lay in ruins, and the fate of (y/n) hung in the balance. The weight of the situation pressed upon Philza as he contemplated the path ahead, his thoughts consumed by a burning determination to rescue (y/n) and bring justice to those who had wrought such destruction.