The taste of blood lingered in his mouth for days.

Where his tusks used to be were now just two small gaps. Technoblade was acutely aware of the loss, pushing against the bared gum with his tongue and reopening the wounds over and over again. They would grow back in time, as would his claws that the stranger had clipped short out of some sick sense of sadistic pleasure. They had held his hands down firmly, knee planted on his forearm to keep it in place as they cut his nails. The procedure was not done with any required attention or care, often cutting into the tips of his fingers and tearing the flesh open.

Techno felt weirdly vulnerable without them. Even shedding all armor and weapons had always left him with a sense of dignity, the idea that they were merely tools used as a means to an end. He did not need them to overcome whatever foes the world dare throw at him. But what the man had taken were parts of his body, they were parts of him. And having them stolen so easily was loathsome, regardless of if the mutilation was temporary.

What's worse, the same could not be said for the brand.

As badly as Technoblade wanted to forget it was there, its placement would not allow him to. The skin was still tender, blistering red and oozing a clear liquid. Damage wrought deep into the tissue. Moving his chest aggravated it, but moving his arm was even worse when it caused his hand to brush into the mark accidentally and send fresh shivers of pain through him. It didn't help that the man refused to let it heal properly. No medical supplies had been provided, leaving it to fester openly against the dirt of his clothing. Whenever they came by to deliver food they checked on the brand, smiling at how profoundly it would scar.

Techno hated it.

He was pulling on the chain again, the already laborious undertaking slowed down further by his injuries. But each inch of traction gained was a small victory, one Techno could harbor like a flame against the storm. This torture was bearable if he held the promise of future release. When he heard the man's footsteps, at this point recognizable enough for Techno to become second nature, he stopped what he was doing to kneel. Strangely enough, the sound was different this time and he realized the reason why at the same time the door of the cell opened.

They had not come alone.

They were dragging another person behind them, distractedly pulling that person down the stairs like an afterthought. Technoblade waited to see where this would go, looking curiously at the newcomer.

It was a boy, maybe barely fifteen years old with short blonde hair and a wiry frame. His hands had been tied behind his back, eyes downcast as the man hauled him around. His cheeks were hollow and sunken, ribs standing out against a thin linen shirt.

"I brought you another present." They pushed the boy forward, wrenching on his arm to throw him onto the floor. With his hands tied behind his back, he landed on the stones cheek first, whimpering in pain. "Or perhaps with your nature it'd be more accurate to call it a treat?"

Technoblade didn't move, muscles tensed in anticipation

"No, That's not quite right either. Consider it a test." They rounded him, hand reaching out to pet his head, fingers moving through his hair briefly. They had grown fond of the long pink strands maybe, touching them whenever the opportunity arose. Or perhaps they knew the pride Technoblade was used to taking in them and this was just another part of their power play. Making him feel helpless, without control over something as simple as who could put their hands on him. "I want to see your famed skill. Think you can do that, pet?"

Technoblade looked up at them. "Depends on what you want me to do... sir." If his answer was more brazen than usual, if the honorific came a few seconds too late, the man was not mentioning it. They gestured at the kid they had thrown onto the floor.

"I want you to kill him."

Implausibly tensing up more than he already had, some distant part of Technoblade flared alive at the mention of a fight. The voices stirred in mild interest, dulled through captivity and monotony but peaked by promises of future bloodshed. "Why?"

The man put his boot down on the back of Techno's heel for a moment, pushing it into the floor painfully - a warning. "It's not a pet's place to question their master. You should need no more reason than that I want him dead."

"If I'm going to kill him I want to know why."

Technoblade braced himself for rebuttal, for discipline. Instead, the man sighed, weary and complacent. Having them relent so easily sent a whole new dread into him. But there was no time to dwell on it as they walked towards the kid on the ground. "Very well. This person has stolen from my land. Has tried to take what is rightfully mine. As a result, he has been sentenced to death."

Technoblade made a low sound, something between a grunt and a scoff. "Doesn't seem like the punishment fits the crime on that one."

"That's not for you to decide. But if it makes you any happier-" They pulled a sword out of their inventory suddenly, the metal reflecting the torchlight. Techno's eyes were caught on it, unable to be torn away as they held it in a loose fist. "-we can raise the stakes."

Using the sword, they cut through the ropes tied to the boy's wrists. The kid wasted no time crawling onto his knees and huddling into the nearest corner. The man ignored his sniffling as they threw the sword at the boy's feet.

"We'll make this about survival instead. Whoever kills the other gets to live." Their grin was terrible, sharp edges and twisted pleasure.

Technoblade's mouth felt dry. "Wait what?"

The boy had snapped out of his daze at those words, eyeing the blade in front of him. He reached out for it tentatively, casting a glance at the man. For a moment Techno thought the kid was smart and about to do the logical thing: kill the bastard that was the entire reason either of them was here. But then wide, desperate eyes settled on him, they were filled with a deep fear for the man who was watching this unfold from the stairs.

Slowly, the boy got onto his feet.

Technoblade barely had time to react then. He rolled out of the way to evade the sloppy downward strike aimed at him, hissing when the movement pulled the chain on the collar and made it shoot pain through his veins.

With no hesitation, the boy tried slicing him again and Techno caught their wrist easily. He twisted it and made them drop the blade, pushing them back and off, with them stumbling onto the floor. Grabbing the hilt felt like coming home.

He pounced to straddle the kid's chest, knees on either side of their arms keeping them pinned effortlessly. The voices roared, praise and excitement, craving this like air. It felt liberating. Finally something he could be in control of again. The boy looked up at him in utter petrification, blue eyes welled with tears.

Technoblade froze.

Beneath him, blonde hair was streaked with blood. Pale skin dusted with freckles. He couldn't be more than fifteen years old.

"You're cheating," Tommy whined. His curled-up fists were pushing at Techno's shoulders, trying to get him off. Techno laughed at the futile attempts from his little brother to get out from under him.

"Not cheating, just better than you." He playfully bonked Tommy on the top of his head with the wooden practice sword. "If you allow your opponent to pin you down you've already lost."

"Yeah, I get it. Now get off before you crush me, you ass."

Techno rolled his eyes but got up, extending his hand to Tommy so he could pull the kid to his feet. Tommy pouted, but after a moment he took the offered hand.

The sword was hovering inches above the kid's chest but Technoblade couldn't move. What held him back could only be described as a mental weight, the hesitance of regret in every bone.

The boy lashed out with his hands in a blind panic, pushing at air and then making contact with Techno's side by lucky chance. He could feel something vital tear as the punches clawed into the brand mark. It hurt badly, the instinct for survival driving him to retaliate and Techno watched with odd detachment as his blade sunk into the boy's throat – not entirely by his own volition.

A small choked gasp escaped the boy, blood bubbling on the surface of his lips as he seized beneath Techno, sputtering in anguish. The tears were flowing down his face freely. Techno twisted the handle to slit through and grant them a quick death. A release from the pain.

The boy gasped once before he went still, blue eyes wide open and emptily staring at the ceiling.

The man clapped.

"As expected from the great blood god. That was quite the performance." Techno's head shot up to look at them, disgust and nausea mingling in his gut. He could feel blood pouring from the wound in his side, torn open and the skin around the injury felt heated, off. Technoblade was dizzy. "Then again," the man went on with a little shrug, "he wasn't a real opponent for you, right? Just a little something to whet the appetite. I'll bring you a more challenging prey next time."

"Next time?" Techno echoed numbly. His head swam with too much to process, throbbing in tune to his rapid heartbeat that refused to slow down. Something was wrong with his body.

"Of course. Good pets make themselves useful for their masters." The man relaxed their arms, opened their hands and spread their fingers wide and Techno couldn't look away, mesmerized. He wanted to get up and kill them so badly, but his muscles were too strained, worn thin. "You'll be a good pet for me, won't you?"

"I-" His vision grew blurry and distantly Techno was aware that what he was feeling was the onset of infection. The wound never being cleaned properly, reopened and exacerbated by the fight, was bound to be inflamed. That couldn't be healthy. The world fell away into a fever pitch. "I don't want to-"

The man cupped his cheek. Techno hadn't even heard them approach, hadn't even sensed them move. He was shivering, the air colder than he thought possible. Or his skin warm and sticky with sweat. "It doesn't matter what you want, does it."

Tired dredges of reason cried out for him to strike. To stab into the man who had ruined him, who was inches away and not wearing any armor while the sword was still in Techno's trembling hands.

Instead, Techno felt himself pitch backward and didn't even mind when darkness swallowed his consciousness.