What was it that Philza had said the other day? "I can already tell what sort of person he is. Being wounded will only make him stronger. He has his pride to protect, and that gives him the strength to carry on."
We had known, and yet we had still brought the death weapon into our quarters.
We had known, and yet here we were, in the exact situation we knew would happen.
"Don't do it," I warned. My voice was a lot more level and calmer than I felt.
Smiley smirked, letting the metal strap that had once covered his eyes fall down to the ground with a clang. "Or what?" he teased. "You'll kill me? You can't do that, and you know it. The tragedies of a hero, I presume, along with the sorrowful backstory and pain embeded into every corner of your body."
He was covered in dried blood from our fight. His clothes were in need of repair and there was no way he wasn't uncomfortable, but that didn't seem to bother him.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my own thoughts. Of course. Because if villains stopped killing and terrorizing every time their clothes were uncomfortable or they were caked in itchy dried blood, there'd be a lot less deaths in the world.
Beside him, Niki made a quiet, whimpering sound. She stared down as best she could at the knife at her throat and tried not to swallow too hard.
I was sure that she was the accomplice. There was no one else. Niki had been heading downstairs, very suspiciously at that, with a mask and everything. She must've let out Smiley. She was the helper. And now, Smiley was using her against me.
"You know, you guys are really dumb," Smiley said with a dramatic sigh. "I'm sure you've already got a good read on my personality. You know how I act. I am sort of predictable, I suppose. And yet you still chose to bring me here." His smile widened. "To Tryxel, where most Gifted come to work. Where I could swing my knife left and right and take down those I hate."
"I won't let you do that."
He gave a delighted laugh. "Oh, really? What are you gonna do about it? You can't do anything, and you know it."
What was I supposed to do? He was right; I couldn't do anything. He had a hostage. I had nothing.
Nothing, the voices sang in my head. But you have a weapon. You have the desire to kill him. End his life. Who cares about the hostage?
A new, slightly less chaotic voice said, Use his code against him.
His code. That was right. He only killed Gifted, as if that somehow redeemed him from his slaughters. Niki was as far from being a Gifted as you could get.
"You can't hurt Niki," I said. "Your rules. She's an ordinary person. So let her go."
There was an awfully long pause as Smiley considered my words. His knife hovered right over Niki's throat, barely an inch away from ending her life right then and there.
Finally, he retracted his arm and stepped back. "You're right, Techno," he said with grudging admiration. "I nearly crossed the line."
"You've crossed multiple lines already," I said in mild annoyance.
"Fair." He watched as Niki slowly stepped away from him, then turned and started up the stairs as fast as she could, muffled sobs echoing through the room. Then he turned to me. "But I won't let you go so easily."
I tilted my head to one side, regarding him. "Oh, really? I'm sure you already know that such a threat is useless against me."
Smiley narrowed his eyes, then smirked. "Ah, yes, Mr Teleportation Gifted. You know, I really thought that you might be different from the rest. When I found out that you were one of them, sure, I was mad, but then I realized that you hadn't ever used your powers before. I thought that you were better than them." He waved his knife in the air, the way a conductor waved their baton half-consciously after a preformance. The dim light glinted off of its pristine surface. "In a different world, we might even be friends."
"Me? Friends with you? Not in a million years."
The killer put his hand to his chest, as is hurt by my words. "My heart, Techno. I'm wounded."
"Good."
He simply shook his head. "So harsh. Really, we would've been the best of friends. As rivals, we could help each other to grow. To learn how to improve upon ourselves."
I raised an eyebrow. "For you to improve would take a therapist, a healer Gifted, and a lot of prayers."
Smiley twirled his knife, beginning to pace around. He glanced over at the staircase, then back at me. "Don't think I'm oblivious to what you're doing, Technoblade. Quit stalling for time. Nobody's going to come rescue you." He scoffed. "They're all a bunch of cowards. Hiding behind powers they think will save them and the name of an organization they'll only ruin."
I knew that no one would come help me. Tubbo, maybe, or Phil, but they knew better than to rush into a slaughter. No, I'd be alone, but it was better that way anyway.
"Techno. You have a gift."
"Yeah, the gift of running away!"
"Is that really how you see it?"
Teleportation was useless. It was something only cowards used. Cowards like me, who ran when they faced death.
But that was only one way of viewing it. I might've been a coward, but I was also smart enough not to die in some stupid manner. There was no point in getting yourself into a fight you couldn't get out of, and after my last run-in with Smiley, I knew that any fight would only result in a stalemate.
I couldn't defeat him yet. I needed time. Another hundred years, hopefully. But I also didn't want to grab him and teleport somewhere else, letting him cause problems for others to deal with. As much as that would solve all of my problems, I still had a conscience.
A fight was inevitable. But I knew how to wait.
I teleported up onto the main floor. People had cleared out. Bodies were strewn all over the floor like rag dolls, both hunters and bounties alike laying wide-eyed and unmoving.
At the front, right next to the staircase, was Phil, his arms crossed, his bucket hat balanced on top of his head. He gave me a slight nod. "Did you see who let them out?"
Niki, I thought. Out loud I said, "No. Did you get the rest of the escapees?"
"Tubbo's leading a team right now," Phil replied. "Our worry at the moment is Smiley."
I looked at him. Just him, just me. Two people. Not nearly enough.
"There should be more," I said. "Are they all so cowardly to shy away from their responsibilities? So much for loyalty."
My adoptive father simply shook his head. "You judge them too harshly, Techno. Why do you think I didn't go down there, even though I knew you were? Why did you come up instead of facing him in a one-vs-one?"
Because we know it's suicide. Because we know that Smiley is still stronger. Still better.
Of course, because even if we were idiotic enough to let him into Tryxel, we can tell when the accidental bomb is about to go off.
The staircase seemed darker than ever. I couldn't see the base, nor could I hear any footsteps. He wasn't coming up.
But he'd have to. He was just waiting for his moment.
The sound of clattering sounded behind us. My eyes narrowed for a split second, then widened again as the front doors burst open with a bang. I turned around, pulling out my sword as I did so. My entire body hurt from my fight with Smiley, but as I took in the army of bones charging towards us, I could tell that I'd have to push it just a bit farther.
Skeletons.
"What the fu---" Phil began, only to be pushed down by the wave of undead. I knocked off the skulls of the skeletons closest to me and made my way towards the middle of indignant squawking.
Skeletons means one person.
Beside me, Philza was doing his best to try and ward off the sharpened bones the skeletons wielded as knives, though he were losing. He'd never fought a skeleton before. No one was supposed to have fought a skeleton before. It was just wrong.
Luckily enough for me, my life was messed up enough that I had more experience than the rest.
I slammed into the skeleton holding onto Phil with the flat of my blade, cracking its rib cage and sending it flying through the air. It hit the wall and shattered, falling down to the ground again. I watched it for a couple of seconds to see if the pile of bones would rearrange themselves back into skeletons, but they stayed inanimate.
Phil gave a huff, then a nod of acknowledgement to me. He ducked as a skeleton threw a punch at his head and punched right back.
It was too much. We were both excellent fighters, but sheer numbers was taking over the fight. Not only that, but the skeletons couldn't be knocked down forever.
I gritted my teeth as a skeleton grabbed my arm. Before I could shake it off, more clung on, ripping through the fabric of my clothes and piercing skin. My sword slipped out of my grip, clattering to the ground.
A growl of irritation escaped me. "No!" I shouted.
A flash of green and black caught my eye. I turned around just in time to see Smiley charge past me, flashing a winning grin in my direction as he did so. His knife was sheathed. He was running. Away.
Too late, I realized what was happening. I made a lunge towards him, but bony hands caught the ends of my cloak and pulled me back, preventing me from chasing after him. I looked around in desperation, but Phil, who was about as battle worn and experienced as you could get, was busy fending off skeletons trying to rip his wings out. Not even he could do anything about it. All I could do was watch as the killer slipped out from between my fingers.
I had been so close. Smiley had been unarmed and vulnerable. I could've ended his life right then and there.
But like an idiot, I had refrained. And now, everyone was going to die because of my conscience.
I could only hope that Wilbur had gotten to safety.
***
I stared at my phone screen, reading the different news articles. Different, but the same. All anyone could focus on anymore was Smiley.
No one even knew the total death count anymore. If I had to guess, it was probably in the hundreds. I didn't want to guess. It made it so much more real if I thought about it too much, and I was pretty happy living in my own illusions.
"You look guilty," Wilbur noted as he slid into the seat next to mine.
I gave him a dirty look. "Of course I'm guilty. I could've killed him. Every new death that gets reported now is because of me."
My adoptive brother shook his head. "No, Techno. You tried. It's not your fault."
"Oh, sure," I said sarcastically. "'Hey, you softened and let a serial killer escape. You could've killed him easily but it's okay, at least you tried to contain him later.' What a joke."
Wilbur was quiet for a second before speaking again. "That's not true. You tried more than anyone."
"I could've ended his life, Wilbur. I could've saved us all from this. I could've saved yo---"
I bit my lip, cutting myself off. Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes. I could taste the metallic scent of blood in my mouth.
"So that's why," Wilbur said, dropping his hands into his lap. He looked like a dejected puppy. "You were trying to save me. Of course."
He looked up at me again. Even though he wasn't crying, I could tell that he wanted to. "You didn't want to do anything about Smiley before. And honestly, I was glad. It meant that you'd be safe, even if it was stupid and selfish of me to want that. But now... you went after him. You almost died!"
His hands clenched into fists in his lap. Tears were running down his face now, unsupressed. My mind flashed back to the night before, when I had been laying in Philza's bed, Wilbur beside me. He was still ridden with guilt.
Typical Wilbur. He was too kind-hearted for his own good.
"You made me become a superhero," I said in a monotone voice, gazing out into the distance as best I could in a cramped house. "How dare you."
My brother whacked me on the head. "Stop it! Don't make fun of this!"
"Now I have to go find myself some cringy-looking spandex suit and jump around buildings, barely able to breathe."
"Stop! Leave Spiderman alone!"
I chuckled. Actually, the only reason why I was making fun of our situation was because it was the only way I could cope with it. If I focused on reality too much, it could threaten to take over. Easy ways to avoid losing your mind.
Wilbur quieted down. He propped up his chin with his hand and looked over at me, his piercing grey eyes staring right into mine. "So, what are you going to do now, Techno?"
Kill him. Take your revenge.
You can't let Smiley run rampant anymore. Who cares about Tryxel? You need to end his life.
"Techno?" Wilbur urged.
I closed my eyes. What was I going to do? I didn't know. Why would I? I wasn't the leader or the person in charge or anything like that. I only thought for myself, and yet people were beginning to count on me to solve the Smiley problem.
When compared with Smiley, I was the good guy. But when compared with anyone else, all I could ever be was an extra.
I was happy with letting other people solve the problem and be the hero.
Or at least, I would be, if it wasn't for one small detail.
"I will kill Wilbur Soot."
"I have a good idea as to who one of his associates are," I replied. "I'm gonna find him and see if he'll talk. He owes me, after all."
Wilbur blinked. "What? Since when did you start interacting with people?"
"I'm being the protagonist, Wilbur. Leave me alone."
I stood up and stretched, glancing down at my phone as I did so. The news articles were still streaming in, more popping up as the page refreshed every couple of seconds. With one hand, I reached over and turned off my phone.
"You'll be safe, right?" Wilbur asked worriedly, standing up as well. He followed me to the door, looking more nervous than usual.
Safe? Not usually.
Out loud I said, "Yeah, I'll be safe. Take care of yourself, okay, Wilbur? I'll be back soon."
He didn't look away as I shut the door, sealing him away from me. I turned around and stared up at the darkening night sky. Nighttime. The best time to go out finding your former bounties.
It was time to pay a certain necromancer Gifted a visit.