Based on a Tumblr art I saw with reincarnated!Techno. Basically, every time he dies, Techno reincarnates as a baby piglin because he is the blood God's vessel. When this happens he loses most of his memories. Phil is immortal and the only one who knows.
"Pull the lever, big Q!"
Phil could hear Tubbo's voice clearly over the increasing chaos beneath him, watching in confusion as pandemonium broke out among the crowd when Punz made his surprise appearance, weapon drawn and potions at the ready. Phil's fingers clenched around the balustrade of his balcony, heart running rampant in his chest seeing Quackity make good on his threat, throwing the switch without hesitation. Technoblade made a noise of shock as the anvil started its rapid descent towards him.
Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Some small internal part of Phil was waiting for the telltale green glow of a totem being used, any indication that one of his worst fears wasn't being realized right before his eyes. Instead, Technoblade did not move an inch - all muscles tensed in expectation of the crushing blow.
Phil watched in horrified helplessness as the heavy block of metal reduced him to nothing but a broken mess of flesh and bones.
Technoblade was squashed by a falling anvil
Bile rose up in Phil's throat, threatening to choke him with nausea. Most of the crowd seemed to experience a similar reaction, frozen in shock at the gnarly sight. Even Quackity, hand still clasped tightly around the lever, had his eyes wide open as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just done. All of them were waiting for Technoblade's mutilated corpse to disappear into a puff of smoke as he was sent off to the respawn point.
But nothing happened.
Disturbed murmurs broke out – uncertainty and disgust mingling into a tide. Phil noticed Tubbo saying something to Quackity, who shook his head numbly in response. Then Punz was suddenly moving again, pulling out a crossbow and firing it at the nearest member of the Butcher Army, which happened to be Fundy. The guy barely had time to raise his shield and avoid catching a bolt to the face. The fighting resumed, with Phil still unable to tear his eyes off the stage. Blood was pooling from beneath the improvised cage they had built to keep Techno contained, staining the wood and dripping down onto the stones in wet patches.
He blinked and shook himself from his daze, knowing what had to happen next.
Reaching down, Phil easily snapped open the tracking bracelet fastened around his ankle with brute force. He threw it onto the balcony, unfurling his wings to their full span with a small hiss. Being as he hadn't stretched them in forever, he couldn't help feeling the soreness from disuse set in. He couldn't afford to waste any time though. After a few experimental flaps to make sure he had a proper range of motion, he took off.
A cry below him meant his escape hadn't gone unnoticed by the city officials, but Phil ignored it in favor of gaining more height. The one arrow they sent after him missed by a long shot. With eyes scanning for the nearest Nether portal, he dove towards it and left the havoc far behind him.
He passed through the portal quickly, feeling the sweltering heat of the Nether nestle into his bones. The outcrop was luckily deserted, a small patch of rocky surface stretching in both directions before sloping downward. A bridge spanning the gap had been built to lead onto the hub.
Looking around desperately, Phil couldn't find what he had been searching for right away. But then his eyes landed on a shifting in the pool of lava merely ten blocks ahead of him and he rushed forwards. A small hand extended from the depths of the boiling liquid, clawing at the netherite to find purchase and pull its owner onto solid ground. Phil fell to his knees to reach out, careful not to burn himself on the molten rock as he helped the tiny creature climb its way up.
The baby piglin quivered violently, flecks of lava trickling from their fur. Their crimson eyes were still glassy and unfocused as Phil grabbed the back of their shirt and hauled them the rest of the distance out of the pool. When it had managed to stumble upright on unsteady hooves, it shook its head while its gaze cleared.
"You doing okay, mate?" Phil asked.
Technoblade launched into his arms with a high-pitched squeal, rubbing his snout against Phil's shoulder. He brought up his hands to cup the child's head, feeling the pricking warmth of residue lava in Techno's fur. It was hard not to laugh at how excited the little piglin was to see him. But then again, from Techno's perspective, it had certainly been a while.
Reincarnation was messy and took time, even if not much of it would have passed in the real world by comparison.
Phil sighed, simply allowing Techno to soak in his presence for a second. Then he reluctantly pulled back and straightened his back. "It's time to go," he said.
Techno titled his head, ears perking up. "Home?" he asked, one of the few words in the common language currently in his vocabulary. Phil knew from past experience that Techno was a fast learner though. He would regain his grasp quickly.
"Yes, but…" Phil came to the stupid realization that he wouldn't be able to find Techno's cabin without the compass. Presumably, that was still within Tubbo's possession.
And while there were a few ways he could go about this, Phil had come to the conclusion many eons ago that the most straightforward solution was often the one that would save him the most headaches down the line.
That's how Phil found himself marching back into L'manberg two hours after breaking his house arrest, a curious Techno trailing in tow and holding his hand.
Whether it was the absolute murderous look on his face or a general aura that told them the first person who messed with him would find out exactly why Phil was known as the angel of death, nobody stopped them. The pure fright displayed by Quackity as Phil strolled into the room almost made them coming back worth it.
"Phil!?" He couldn't tell from Tubbo's tone if the boy was happy to see him or deeply afraid. Perhaps a bit of both. "Where did you go, do you know why-" Tubbo faltered upon seeing his charge, puzzled at the piglin child still attached to Phil's hand.
"I would like to get my stuff back now," Phil said calmly. Techno stood close at his side, the other fist curled into the fabric of Phil's coat.
Tubbo tore his eyes from the mob, leveling them on Phil instead. "Stuff?"
"What you took from me when you ransacked my house. I'm assuming that since the compass has served its purpose, you won't refuse to hand it back."
"Phil…" Tubbo repeated, softer this time. He bit at his lip, looking younger and more hesitant than Phil had seen him since taking office. Since the job was basically forced on him against his wishes. It painted him in regret. "What happened to Techno, we… he was supposed to have three lives-"
He was interrupted once again. "Holy fucking shit!"
Phil turned around to watch Techno glaring daggers at Quackity, who had crouched down in front of him.
"The kid! It's him, it's Technoblade, wait, how?!"
"it's a long story," Phil granted, feeling what must be the beginning of the world's worst migraine forming in his head. It wasn't like he was naive enough to think he'd be able to keep Techno's current state a secret for long but he had no idea how Quackity was able to figure it out that quickly.
Maybe Phil should have given the guy some more credit for how perceptive he could be.
"What?" Fundy piped up, approaching as well and Techno took a step back while baring his teeth. He growled slightly at the two, ill at ease with strangers being so close to him.
"Careful," Phil warned half-heartedly, "he bites." He had been on the wrong end of those sharp little tusks himself a couple of times too often.
Quackity drew his hand back with a small yelp, seconds away from finding out for himself.
"You're going to have to explain this to us," Tubbo said, crossing his trembling hands on the desk in front of him. He lacked any of the presidential authority he had been trying to emanate before and Phil could see the blood still stuck under his fingernails. They had to clean the stage after the execution, he remembered.
He wondered what they had done with Technoblade's mangled body.
"Techno does not have three lives," he said - ignoring the way it made them exchange nervous glances. "He has only one, which cycles endlessly."
The three stared at him in confusion, until Ranboo spoke up. Phil hadn't noticed him in the corner of the room, wondering if he had been there all along. The enderman hybrid seemed like a hard person to miss yet somehow managed to blend in with his surroundings, unassuming as he faded into the shadows.
"Reincarnation," he had said. Not a question but an inference.
Phil nodded. "When he does die, he is almost instantly reborn in… this state." He gestured at the child idly. Technoblade had seemingly checked out of the conversation, probably not caring much for what they were discussing. He was busy poking around Tubbo's desk, playing with a golden paperweight. "He loses most of his memories when it happens."
"He seems to remember you," Fundy observed, watching Techno hold out the paperweight to Phil with a soft snort, trying to get the older man to comment on his acquisition of the golden item and pouting when he didn't do so.
"It's different. I'm one of the only constants through the cycles so he doesn't completely forget me. Doesn't completely remember either though."
Ranboo's hands flitted nervously. "When you say cycles, do you mean, uh. I just- just am wondering how often this has happened before?"
Phil gave him a thin, tired smile in lieu of an answer. Ranboo shriveled slightly.
"That's insane!" Quackity was rubbing his hand down his face, almost slapping himself as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. "I mean, we just killed him like, two hours ago. And now he's a fucking toddler?"
Starting to lose his patience, Phil tugged Techno back to his side. The piglin let out a discontented huff at being manhandled but was still distracted by the golden item he was turning around in his hand, admiring it from all sight. His tail flicked side to side quickly, happy with his treasure. "I answered your questions. Can I have the compass now?"
Tubbo's hands were raised again, still shaking. "Hold on, technically you're still under house arrest Phil, we can't just-"
"I was under house arrest because you were busy harassing my best friend over old war crimes," Phil cut in. "Which you've successfully done now. There is no reason to keep me here, and neither is there any reason to keep Techno here since his trial is over, I presume? You've already sentenced him and carried out the execution."
The last words were almost a challenge, as if Phil were asking them if the mockery of a government L'manberg currently had would be bold enough to put a five-year-old on trial again. If they would dare put a child to death for an offense he couldn't even remember committing.
No, while Phil might not have seen eye to eye with all of these people, he knew they were not that cruel.
Tubbo's expression seemed to imply as much. He had paled slightly, the burn scars across his face intensifying the stark contrast of discoloration they made on his skin. He gave the tiniest nod, retrieving the compass from his inventory. Phil hadn't realized he'd been holding on to it all this time.
"If you want to stay in L'manberg, you can," Tubbo started, but Phil snatched the compass from his desk before he could finish his offer.
"No thanks, we'll see ourselves out."
They arrived at the tundra with Technoblade bundled up in Phil's cloak.
If they were going to live in this biome, he would need to acquire some better-suited clothes for Techno as soon as possible. The poor guy always reincarnated in the simple linen shirt seen on all baby piglins in the Nether.
Phil opened the door with eager relief, glad to get out of the snow himself. That relief was quickly squashed at the sight he was met with inside.
Tommy, sitting cross-legged on the floor, attempting to scarf down two gapples at the same time.
Their eyes met in surprised silence for barely a second before they were both talking at the same time, even speaking the very same words.
"What the fuck happened to you?!"
Tommy looked miles away from the last time Phil had seen him, and not in a good way. Phil's mind reeled at how strongly he had changed, how gaunt his face was and the way his thin frame curved in on itself. His blonde hair was longer than usual and a straight mess, and if his clothes were any indication Tommy had spent the last few weeks living in the forest being raised by a pack of feral wolves.
For his own part, Tommy was staring at the child Phil still held in his arms.
Techno squirmed out of Phil's grip, landing nimbly on his hooves as he jumped down. He trotted over to Tommy with all the confidence in the world and held out an expectant hand. "Give," he grunted simply.
Tommy stared at it as if Techno was speaking another language. Ironically, Techno proceeded to say some more but in piglin this time. Dumbfounded as he was, Tommy did slowly put one of the gapples in the child's hand. He received the paperweight Techno had stolen from Tubbo's desk in return.
Then Techno sat down on the floor next to him to consume his treat.
Tommy snapped his jaw shut with an audible click. "Technoblade?!"
"Yeah," Phil said. He didn't have the energy to go over the entire explanation a second time. At least not until he could have a decent night's sleep. So he was glad Tommy didn't seem to expect one. "It's a long story."
"No shit."
"Tommy, not that I'm not glad to see you but what are you doing here?"
His words had the unintended effect of making the younger tense, shoulders hunching into his own body to make himself smaller. The dark circles under Tommy's eyes only became that much more obvious when his face fell and defensiveness slipped into his stance. "I'm not doing anything, I live here."
"Since when?"
Pursing his lips, Tommy looked away. "A while."
Whatever Phil would have liked to respond to that fell short when there was a knocking on the door. Or more accurately, a banging. Dream's voice carried through the woodwork.
"Phil, I know you're in there!"
Tommy stiffened even more, as far as that was still possible. His body went rigid, chest rising and falling too quickly as his breathing grew more shallow, more panicked. Phil had no idea what was happening, but he didn't like it one bit. Instinctively, he nudged Tommy towards the hatch that led into the basement. "Get down there, now."
It said a lot about Tommy's current state of mind that he obeyed without backtalk.
Dream's banging returned, more insistent. Phil opened the door a crack as soon as he was certain Tommy was out of sight. "Sorry, can I help you?" Dream did not make note of his sarcastic tone.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"I wasn't planning to," Phil answered. His hand was curled around the frame, wings flared to keep Dream from peeking inside. A pointless gesture because Technoblade was already poking his way around Phil's legs, glaring at the intruder.
From behind his mask, Phil could feel Dream's eyes shift to the child at his feet. There was no other movement from him. Phil was put even more on edge by the lack of external reaction, a swirl of unease in his gut.
Eventually, Dream tilted his head back to look at him. "Tell me what happened in L'manberg."
"I'm sure they'll tell you themselves if you ask nicely. I've already explained it to them," Phil said, attempting to close the door only for it to meet the resistance of Dream's boot. He had stuck his foot in the opening.
"I don't know if you're aware of it, Phil, but I'm not exactly well-liked there at the moment." Dream laughed as if it was a joke they could share. Phil remained stone-faced, putting the faintest pressure against the door while the other man refused to budge.
"Perhaps. But I'm sure you have plenty of people on the inside who are still glad to play your little earpiece and clue you in."
Phil was a bit distracted by the way Techno was fussing around his legs. Clearly, he was feeling the tension carried within the conversation, even if he might not be able to understand the intricacies of what they were discussing.
Techno could tell Phil did not like this man he was talking to. And in typical piglin fashion, he decided to show Dream exactly what he thought about his presence.
The sound Dream made as a small hoof connected rather forcefully with his exposed shin was nothing short of undignified. Phil bit his tongue to keep from laughing, because he was sure the other would not appreciate it. "I suggest you leave now," he said instead, allowing no room for discussion. He closed the door before Dream could reply, sure that they hadn't seen the last of him but unwilling to deal with him for the moment.
After several minutes of Phil holding his breath and Technoblade going back to eating his gapple without a care in the world, Tommy's head popped back up from the basement. "Is he gone?"
"I think so." Phil tried rolling his shoulders, but they hurt too much. He really was getting too old for this. Tommy nodded, climbing up again with undue care. Technoblade handed him the leftovers of his own gapple, which he had abandoned on the floor when Dream started knocking.
As unnerving as that was - he had never known Tommy to willingly stop eating unless you pried the food from him like a dog - Phil didn't have the energy to think about it tonight.
"If you're living here, I guess we need to make two more beds," he said, bending over to start scouring Technoblade's supplies. His hoarding would come in handy for once, as Phil really rather not need to head out for more materials.
Tommy's eyes widened as he registered Phil's words. "W-we do?"
"Yeah, there's three of us now. We need to rebuild this place too."
"Oh yeah." The meaning sunk in, resulting in a grin on Tommy's face that almost made him look like himself again, though the illusion was shaky at best. He jumped slightly when Technoblade crawled into his lap, making himself comfortable. Tommy looked spooked.
"He likes you," Phil commented.
Tommy sat still, looking like he had never been touched by another living being before. "You think?"
Phil laughed. "He likes everybody I like, usually." It was an inevitable consequence of the memory loss.
With a nod, Tommy took that at face value. He still didn't seem to know what to do though. Until a thought hit him and the grin was back, just south of being a little more sincere. "Wait, does that mean I'm the older brother now?! I'm not the baby in the family anymore."
"Not sure that's how it works," Phil snorted. He wasn't about to point out Techno was still technically several centuries older, give or take a few years.
"Okay kid," Tommy perked up. "You can call me Big Man Innit!" He thumped himself on the chest. Technoblade ignored him.
Phil finally managed to find the wool he was looking for, sitting down at the crafting table to start working on the beds. And as he did, he couldn't help but wonder how he had found himself accidentally in charge of two children once again.