They didn't take Ranboo up right away.

Something about keeping the best for last, perhaps. He shifted, fidgeted in place but with nowhere to go. Technoblade had gone and been sold. Sold to the man in the uniform who Ranboo could tell was bad news, he just couldn't tell why. After they brought him back they took some other slaves from the arena. And Ranboo was left standing, standing, standing.

"Listen Ranboo," Techno said once the handlers were gone again and they had a short moment of peace before the next person would be fetched and brought forward for sale. Only a few seconds to talk – only a few seconds to spare. "When you're up there I need you to cause a distraction. I don't really care what you do, just make everybody look at you."

Ranboo nodded, stopped. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to break these shackles." Techno pulled up his arms, the few inches of leeway he had until the chain that attached them to their display stand pulled taut.

"T-they're curse of unbinding, how're you going to-"

"Force."

"That's..." And Ranboo stopped. Because normally this would be where he protests, where he told Techno not to do something that could harm him. Common sense and all that. Except Technoblade's been sold and Ranboo will soon be as well and then they'll never see each other again. What other options did they have? "That's probably gonna hurt," he decided on.

"Probably," Technoblade agreed. "And it's going to be obvious what I'm doing, so I need you to cover for me."

They didn't get the chance to say anything else. The four other slaves from the arena were sold and then the handler came back and grabbed Ranboo's chain and he didn't know what to do, couldn't really do anything before he was being pulled along. And if earlier had been bad, with all the people standing around him and inspecting him like a cut of meat they'd want to feed to their children, then this would be about a million times worse.

People stared at him.

Their eyes burned holes in his skin, set it aflame with horrifying itches and Ranboo wanted to shrink back or run or hide but they'd attached the chain to the auctioneer's podium instead. He could only take a single step any which way.

"Now this one's a treat, folks. I'm sure many of you already got a good look at it on the sale's floor," the man selling him began, gesturing with their gavel in Ranboo's direction. "A real rare specimen. Ideal for any collector looking to take their collection to the next level. Or perhaps a special curiosity for the peculiars wanting to outdo their friends in uncommon finds. You can really pick apart this one!"

Some scattered laughter rose from the crowd. Ranboo didn't get the joke – hopefully, he'd never get it.

"Not that sitting around and looking pretty is all it can do." They referred to their sheets of paper for the next part. "The arena reports lots of potential for future growth in combat skills and notes the possible discovery of other abilities not yet seen due to its heritage. Quite a mouthful if you ask me. Can we get an opening bid?"

The crowd was clamoring, screams ringing out from several different corners. The price rose higher than what any of the other slaves had been sold for in a matter of minutes and Ranboo couldn't do anything but dumbly stand there. Should he take it as a compliment? He didn't and it wasn't really. If anything it left a bad taste in his mouth. It did mean a lot of attention was on him already though, there wasn't much he'd need to do to create Techno's diversion. Just something to get the few remaining heads turning.

"Uh, I can do this?" Nobody was listening to him. Ranboo bend down and exhaled. He hadn't been practicing as much – and it came more easily to him with some blocks as opposed to others. But he knew it would draw attention. With no tools, only his bare hands and a little concentration, he picked up a part of the wooden stage.

Ranboo held it tightly to his chest, almost cradling it. Even under these rather bizarre circumstances, the action brought him satisfaction, it always made a burst of warm comfort break out in his chest. The block felt as if it belonged there, as if he'd done well in picking it up. He looked around for somewhere to put it down again.

Between more bidding, people finally started to notice what he'd done. The auctioneer gasped and muttered a half-smothered 'oh my' but recovered quickly. "I'd say you can expect some surprises with this one," they said, their voice carried across the room.

Ranboo smiled politely. He could put the wood back where he got it, but that'd just feel wrong. He put it behind him, scooting to the side to avoid the gap he'd created in the stage. There. Much better.

"Double!" somebody yelled across the room. "I'll double whatever they're offering!"

More noise, more outcries. Ranboo was getting dizzy trying to follow what he was being sold for. It sounded like a large enough sum to buy half a server. Why did these people want to spend that on him? What could he possibly have to offer them that'd make him worth that much?

What would happen if he couldn't satisfy their needs?

It had worked, however. Even those not interested in bidding on him were watching the spectacle that was devolving. Nobody was paying any mind to the other slaves in the room. Ranboo stared in the opposite direction, not wanting to accidentally give Technoblade away by being too obvious in where he was looking.

Gradually, the rate at which people were bidding slowed down to a trickle, then just two people. The man who was part of the couple that had been staring at Ranboo earlier and a rather gruff older man who didn't raise his hand to bid but instead gestured with an ornate steel cane that had a ruby set into the top. They went back and forth a bit, before the couple finally had to give up – presumably not able to top the newest offer. The woman looked very disappointed by this.

Ranboo thought about how she had begged her husband to get him for her, like begging for a puppy. A small cute animal for her to fawn over until inevitably growing sick of it and discarding it in a corner when it started to bore her. He shuddered.

"Sold!" The auctioneer smacked their gavel down onto the wood in front of them. "Looks like Sir cane has earned himself the privilege to take this one home." They turned their paper over, finding no more underneath. "And with that, we'll conclude the auction. Return customers will know the deal, you'll clear your bill and all particularities at the store's upstairs arrangement first and they'll tell you how to retrieve your items."

Ranboo was led off-stage and back to the spot he had occupied earlier. Clearly, it was the intention that the slaves would remain while the customers who had bought them took care of the financial side of things before being allowed to take them home. How long that would take – if it were a matter of minutes or hours – Ranboo had no idea.

And he'd never find out.

The handler had just crouched down to reattach his shackles to the small podium when Techno jumped on them. The tethers between his hands had been snapped, the iron hanging loosely around his wrists. Ranboo could see the burn marks of the enchantment etched into the skin of Techno's palms and wrists. He had brute-forced them, the expected last ditch resort.

Techno wrapped his arms around the handler's unsuspecting throat and punched them, leaving their body crumpled onto the ground. Then he grabbed Ranboo's hand. "Run!"

People were yelling. Somebody made a grab for Ranboo's shoulder but he ducked beneath it. They dashed towards the door and Techno stopped, pushing Ranboo up in front of him. "Go, go!" He turned around and took the chain off his arms, wrapping it around the door's closed handle and a torch bracket in the wall. There was no telling how long it would hold, but it'd buy them a few extra minutes.

Ranboo was already near the top of the stairs. They could either try the front of the store – risky, unknown to them, might be busy – or flee through the back. Ranboo went ahead, hearing Techno's hooves on the wood behind him. They burst into the backroom almost in tandem, only one more door separating them from the outside, from freedom.

Two men stood guard there.

Mel made eye contact with Ranboo, sea-green widening. His chin tilted upward, fingers tightening around the spear he was leaning on. The other guard shifted when they saw them, expression darkening.

"What the hell d-"

They didn't get to finish their sentence. Mel had used the spear to swipe their feet from under them then used it to knock them out. He stood there, looking surprised by his own actions. As if he'd done it before reason could catch up to conscious thought.

Ranboo knew the gratefulness was plain to see on his own face.

The door downstairs was slammed into by a shoulder. Somebody was throwing their whole weight into bursting it open. It wouldn't take long for them to accomplish their goal.

"Hurry!" Mel opened the outside door for them, shoved them through. At the last moment, he hesitated and retrieved something from his belt. He pushed it into Ranboo's hand. His brother's knife. "Go! Don't look back!"

Ranboo only had time for a hurried nod and then they were running again, fleeing into the fading light.