Techno knew as soon as he heard people approaching that something had gone wrong.

Ranboo hadn't been taken away that long ago, an hour or two at most. It was too early for Mel to pick him up. Besides, he never made that much noise when coming down the hallway. Whoever it was making their way to the cell had lighter steps, but faltered as if carrying something heavy or pulling somebody along who stumbled after, with a third person following them.

He got off the bed and knelt down to drag Ranboo's chest from beneath the cot. There was no time to decide or second-guess if there was anything else they needed more, so Techno got the communicator and slipped it in his pocket. Mere seconds after he had kicked the chest back in place the door opened.

The first thing Technoblade noticed was that Blond's face was as red as a tomato, a vein visibly bulging in their throat as they yelled erratically. The second and to Techno far more pressing issue was the way they were dragging Ranboo around as if he were a rag doll. If it weren't for his enderman genetics, Ranboo's arm would have been forced out of its socket by such manhandling.

Techno kept calm – it was in their best interest to defuse the situation. But what he wouldn't give to bash their head into the wall.

"He doesn't know!" Ranboo said suddenly, seemingly coming back to himself a little. His eyes were wide, pupils narrowed to thin slits. Terrified.

Chat didn't like that one bit and neither did Techno. He forced himself to remain calm.

They checked the chest and Technoblade was glad he'd taken the communicator when he had the chance. While this would throw a wrench in their escape plan for sure, at least they wouldn't need to start from scratch. As Blond emptied Ranboo's chest and pocketed all that he'd managed to gather over the past weeks, Techno made eye contact with him instead.

Barely, he moved his wrist, putting his fingers over his pocket casually. He couldn't tell if Ranboo had gotten the message.

"Check the other one."

Techno moved aside, allowing the other handler he didn't recognize to look under his bed. They never moved any of the supplies – never had any reason to – and apparently, that was paying off.

"He didn't know," Ranboo said again. Blond side-eyed him, doubtful. Then as if deciding they didn't care either way, they grabbed Ranboo's arm again. The enderman flinched but didn't wrench loose or defend himself, resigned to his fate. They started leaving the room.

Techno didn't need to be a genius to have an incredibly bad feeling about this.

"Where are you taking him?" If he failed to sound as calm any longer, that would be for him to deal with later.

"That's none of your concern," Blond answered. They already had their back turned on Techno.

And he spent a spare thought on imagining what he'd do if they'd come alone. Techno would not have to hesitate before grabbing them by the collar and showing them in no uncertain terms what he thought of that.

Naturally, they were a coward and hadn't come alone. When Techno advanced on them the other handler was quick to bar his way. "I say it is!" he tried, knowing it wouldn't help. Ignoring him, the blond man left the room with Ranboo firmly in his grip.

The unknown handler stood still waiting for what Techno would do, position overly defensive. Techno stared them down for a moment.

He raised his arms with a sarcastic "boo" but they didn't look to be appreciating his dry sense of humor. They closed the door behind them when they left and just like that Techno was all by himself. With not a clue where they had taken Ranboo or when he'd be brought back.

And worse, what they would do to him in the meantime.

"This will be your last fight," Mel said. "The auction is the day after tomorrow."

As much as Technoblade was grateful to have the warning, he couldn't muster up the appropriate reaction. He didn't know where Ranboo was, Chat wouldn't stop pestering him about it. His own worried thoughts wouldn't stop pestering him about it either.

He told Ranboo they needed more supplies. Did they really though? Couldn't they have managed with what they already had? He hadn't weighted the potential gains with the very real risks and now Ranboo was paying the price.

Technoblade might have ruined their best shot at getting the heck out of there.

He didn't bother going through with his initial plan to smuggle a weapon back to their cell either. Not only was it doubtful they'd have a second chance to break out, Techno knew he'd be more closely watched now than he had been before. They probably didn't believe Ranboo's insistence that the escape plan was a solo endeavor. They simply hadn't seen the point in punishing both of them when this was just as effective.

His opponent was a challenger. Techno didn't recognize her. He couldn't tell if he should.

Her face was a blur to him, her voice static. It was impossible to concentrate with his mind someplace else. When their cue for the battle to start reached Techno through the haze, he made an effort to pull back to the present, to the situation at hand. Deal with this fight first, then figure out what to do about Ranboo.

There had to be something he could do.

protect Ranboo
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pretty sure he needs your help asap actually
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I vote we just leave him
wow rude
shut the fuck up for real
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what do you think these folks' idea of a punishment is?
major L for Ranboo
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Helpful as usual. Techno tuned Chat out, readjusted the sword in his grip. The woman moved slowly, calculated. She had the more patient fighting style you'd expect to find in a tactician, but when she struck she did so unrelentingly. Techno blocked her attacks with some difficulty, a gap in her defense would be harder to find compared to others. He needed to really concentrate.

Why couldn't he?

His first attempt at a counter was deflected. His second attempt never got close to hitting home. The crowd was getting louder as the fight dragged on, the voices were getting more frantic. His head pounded with their combined clamor.

Physical sanctions would probably be avoided if Ranboo was to be sold as an exhibit. A possession you'd show off to get bragging rights. Techno was sickened by the idea – but maybe it would play into their advantage this once. They wouldn't want to inflict any visible injuries on valuable merchandise.

what about invisible injuries?
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you'd be surprised what a good shirt can hide
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psychological torture pog?
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we know how good memory boy deals with mental warfare

Isolation? It was possible. Confine their prized showpiece to a small, dark room where he'd have no chance to run away before they'd make the bucks they were looking for.

But where then-

Techno's train of thought hit a roadblock when his opponent lodged her sword in his shoulder.

And he couldn't be angry, since it was his own fault he got distracted. He couldn't be entirely bothered either. The burning pinch where the blade dug into him was a faster way to drag him down to reality than anything else. She moved up and towards his armpit when she drew back, making sure to carry through a bigger target. If she'd done a better job at it, she might have even been able to sever the tendons needed for Technoblade to move his arm.

(Compared to what Ranboo could be going through at this very moment, it was nothing)

It did help him focus, long enough to finally slip between her attacks. When she raised again – finding false confidence in drawing his blood and getting sloppy – Techno moved. It was over before she could react.

Today, he didn't wait for the referee to name him a victor. He didn't wait for the audience applause to die out nor give the customary post-match respect to the fallen fighter. Techno walked back to the armory and then straight through it and past whoever called out his name. He didn't stop walking until he reached his cell again and could sit down.

The cot opposite his was empty and his victory had never felt as hollow before.

The person who had called after him had followed him. Mel, carrying a roll of gauze and a stern expression of pitiful reproach. And Techno didn't respond but sat there dutifully to receive his scolding for misbehaving – or for putting himself in danger. He couldn't tell which.

He sat there and allowed the bandage to be applied to his bleeding shoulder and acknowledged Mel's prompting to keep some pressure on the wound only with a nod. But he didn't move as the handler left the room again in a hurry.

(You promised to keep Ranboo safe, one of the voices reminded him. More vindictive and tainted than its brethren. There were always a few like that, but usually Techno had an easier time keeping them out. For some reason, he listened to it now. Perhaps because it was right.

He had promised to keep Ranboo safe.)

Techno sat there and watched red start seeping through the bandage, unable to bring himself to do anything about it, wondering what the point of it all had been if he couldn't make true on that promise.