Summery: you fallow a piglin's life up to death. Then you watch as the people he loves plan their revenge.
Setting: the nether, their past homes, Pogtopia, his cottage.
Tw: small amounts of violence and kinda vague details of blood and gore.
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He doesn't remember his long forgotten beginnings.
He does remember long and quiet days sitting in his room. Occupied by a fat book or the sharpening his blade as he sits by the tinted window showing his red tinted world.
He would listen peacefully as his parents taught the language of their land. Watching as people walk busily in the town square.
After a short time of blissfulness in his memory, he sits alone in a aria not so far off from his home.
He sits their, a knife gripped in his hand, unprepared.
Then he hears footsteps, a boy, no older then he spots him.
The young boy runs up to him with a smile as wide as a ghast. The boy said something, jiberesh to the boys ears.
After an short interaction, the boy left the now content and quite confused boy on the ground.
Fast forward in time, the small boy becoming a little taller.
While he hunts he can't help but listen into what some voices are saying.
However useless the task, he finds it quite funny.
They talk about different topics, strange topics to him, but none the less he listens on as he hunts, cause that's what he knows best.
Someone says something making him turn around, startled.
That's the day he met his best friend, the day he first stepped foot onto the over-world. He can still picture his amazed face as he looks at its bright purple swirls, that color foreign to him until now.
He and his best friend would play, joke about the most stupidest of stuff.
Eventually they came across some old swords, and as if on instinct the piglin grabbed its hilt.
They fought till he and his friend was too tired to fight.
They traveled together, worked any job that would allow them.
A blur, nothing really happening, but a distinct feeling of loneliness lingered.
Then he sees his best friend, at a bar. He might have squealed seeing his friend. It didn't matter to him at the moment, all that mattered at that moment was the bear hug he gave his friend.
If a few feathers fell of his friend's mysteriously black wings, no one mentioned it.
That was the day he learned of his friend's deal with the goddess of death.
After that the piglin and his winged friend went on many adventures, Meeting new people and exploring new areas.
After a while his friend proposed an idea he would have never imagined, settling down.
He would never understand until years later why his friend so desperately wanted to stop joining in other's battles.
He fallowed his best friend, believing if his friend wanted to settle down, he would fallow. They made a place in the Arctic and lived their best lives.
It was a cold day when his friend came back from the town, out to get groceries.
He came back with his hands full of bags and a little child. No older then 10.
The piglin remembers fondly as the kid looked at him, pure joy in his eyes. He jumped up to him curiously, a million questions asked.
Two million questions where answered in one evening.
The two raised that boy, together. Sharing cold moments by the fireplace in the middle of a blizzard or tuning around the house playing some obscure game.
That child grew up to be very charming and charismatic. He loved to play guitar, often singing to them in the living room.
After a long time of just them two, Technoblade got a phone call, it was from that kid, but it wasn't that kid he raised when he put his phone to his ear.
The person on the line sounded much too young to be his friend's child, plus too loud and spontaneous.
Sometime after that call he got on a train to a different country, a whole other continent. Promising his winged friend he would call every day.
He doesn't remember much of that time, only remembering grinding for a war. All the while trying to keep this new kid and his friend's kid in check.
Gradually, very gradually, their army grew and before he knew it he was facing against the enemy line, in his element.
And then he was in a cabin, his friend by his side. His friend stayed by his side, the piglin was overjoyed, but lingering feelings of betrayal stayed.
The two sought out a world where all governments where destroyed, anarchy remaining. Others joined, a half enderman boy and a brunette woman who often died her hair.
Many times he would see his friend's ghost son, wandering the aria and he would smile and wave at him as he went by.
While he was away, the blond boy snooped into his house, making a small hole for himself.
Reluctantly he let the blond raccoon stay.
They spent many nights together, him, his best friend, and his raccoon like friend. Often the ghost would come to visit, but would never stay long.
Then it was just him, the ghost, and the blond child.
On more then one occasion he would sneak into his best friend's house, just to see him. Times his friend would come see him.
He doesn't remember how, or when, but he, a man with a strange smiling mask, and his best friend blew up a nation. He could hear the distant shouts of disappointment in the townsfolk's eyes, be he laughed it off.
Instead he would listen to the booms of the tnt shoot off in furies of smoke and powder.
There's is big blank where he didn't do anything, just sleeping.
When he woke up there was a big party, his friends celebrating his birthday had a big shock when they saw him up and moving.
A week later and a distant friend suggested he go visit the prison, he happily obliged after giving his friend a joking will.
He got stuck in that prison, the guard locking him in.
So he laughed it off, joking to his now smiling roommate.
His roommate didn't like that, his friend didn't enjoy his jokes and laughs, he especially didn't like it when the god came and granted him one wish.
Which he used for a bell.
Tw blood
One night, he was awoken to being beaten, his roommate assumedly having enough of his jokes.
His roommate shouts filled his ears 'you like that hub? You just love to make me mad!' 'It's just a bell! Why need a bell when you could've wished for freedom!'
The two's blood smear the walls of the prison. Self defense can really go a long way.
He once said: 'treat me with kindness and I'll return it tenfold. Treat me with and injustice, and I'll return it a million times over.' Or at least something like that.
He couldn't, however, fulfill that saying this time.
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As the prison guards run around with the news of a new death, people become more greedy.
Wanting more land and power, all to themselves.
Weeks went by, people start growing empires, but that friend, the piglin's best friend, the one with the black wings and a ring showing of deaths deal, he grew more and more aggravated, 'how dare you even say that!' He once shouted at a woman who didn't say the nicest things about his best friend.
It seemed at any moment, he would snap. That is if he hadn't already.
His now revived son, in hopes of calming the grieving man, decided to live with him.
Right now they walk through the icy biome exchanging of plan ideas between one another.
Trying my hardest not to be seen, I fallow them from the trees.
Their conversation was most interesting, although, something was different about his best friend's son.
He sounded older, his voice wasn't as rusty as his ghost, but, it was older. His stance was weaker as well
Snap, I step on a twig, oh god why did I do that.
My old friend turns to face the sound. Freezing in his spot. Our eyes met, my red with his blue.
His son, noticing the lack of his father by his side, turns around, tracing his line of sight.
His eyes widen visibly and mouth hung open. That shock turns into a smile.
"T-echno-Technoblade?" Philza stammered, stepping forward.
I smile cheerfully, stepping away from the line of trees.
"Philza!" My ghostly voice gasps. My old friend takes a step closer.
"H-" he starts.
"Oh hey, ghost buddies!" Wilbur exclaims.
I look up at him in confusion, he's clearly alive. His skin wasn't ghostly white and his voice wasn't scratchy and ghost like as mine is.
"OoO do you not remember? I died and came back to life." Wilbur starts, I tune him out, however.
"Philza, where are you two going?" I ask.
"The Dream SMP" he mumbles, looking behind them.
"Can I come with?" I ask.
Philza shuffles, shrugging, "sure I don't see why not."
I skip idly up to them, "then let's go!"
Philza and his son walk closely behind the ghostly piglin. Their plan ready to be executed.
If everything goes smoothly, there will be no more prison, no more prison guards, and especially, no more smiling masks.
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Requested by Netheriea go check them out! Also thanks for the request it was really fun brainstorming different ideas. :)
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