The crows had begun to tell him his efforts were meaningless.

Phil shooed them away these days more often than not, but there was a truth to their words that he needed to start acknowledging. He had spent too much time scrolling down messages on his communicator, getting in touch with people who were on other servers, searching for any leads he could think of.

Perhaps immortality had made him biased and Phil was not adept at admitting when he was at a loss. Or maybe it was that aimlessness had seemed so enjoyable before, that he could not recognize the harm in it now. He was used to structured tactics, to the ends justifying the means. To pushing himself until the result he wanted presented itself, no matter how much broken skin and sleepless nights it would take for him to get there.

Thus when somebody had hurt Techno, that meant Phil would not rest until not only they were destroyed, but also all that they stood for. He would find the very origin of their thoughts – the source of an idea planted in their mind that had deluded them into thinking it possible or wise to lay a finger on what Phil held dear.

He would find their reasons for doing it and destroy those too.

Except what he had found was nothing. Not a single thread for him to pull. There was no reason for this man to have done what they did except pure happenstance. Coincidence. They had wanted to make a statement and in Techno had found a convenient mouthpiece. Nothing more, nothing less. When they died, all their reasons had died with them.

There wasn't anything for Phil to chase. Nowhere for his anger to go.

Phil sighed, turned the communicator over in his palm. He could feel the telltale stinging sensation in his eyes which meant he'd been staring at the screen too long, especially since the room wasn't illuminated by anything besides the almost burned out embers in the fireplace. The sun was rising outside, he hadn't slept. Phil stood up to open the window, not surprised when one of the crows perched on the roof immediately swooped down to sit on the windowsill.

It chirped at him and fluttered its black feathers. They had an almost unnoticeable purple sheen to them, more pronounced in the waning light of the sunrise. This peculiarity made it the only bird within the murder of crows Phil could actually tell apart from its flock, and as such the only one he had named.

"Good morning to you too, Twitch." The crow blinked its glistening beady eyes at him. "Don't tell me, you're here because she's concerned again right?" He held out his arm for the bird to jump onto, carrying it into the kitchen to give it a scrap or two he must have lying around. Phil couldn't remember the last time he had eaten either. He simply hadn't noticed his lacking appetite before.

Twitch gobbled up the treats it received, a few pieces of half stale bread that Phil found in his food chest, then cawed loudly.

"I know, I know. Tell her not to worry about me."

Words easier said than done. He knew the care with which his Lady watched over him – over all creatures. Often Phil longed to be able to see her, touch her, speak to her more freely. But her love for him was felt in many other ways, even if the cruel laws of the universe would keep them apart.

Twitch bopped up and down a little, sharp nails digging into the cloth of Phil's sleeves. He petted its head a few times. Then he went back to the window, sticking his arm outside again. "Be off then, you little shit. You know how busy I am."

The crow screeched in outrage but then took flight to settle back amongst its kin. Phil shook his head at them, aware of how much the pests loved bothering him, but he didn't have time to waste on their antics.

His decision had already been made.

There was no reason to be found, no purpose for him to avenge. All that was left for him to do was make good on the promise he had made to himself at the start when his heartbeat was running rampant in his chest and the smallest notion of not getting Technoblade back alive had wrung itself into his deepest fears.

The air outside was crisp with early morning, but it hadn't snowed yet. The walkway was still mostly cleared. The light in Techno's house was on, though Phil knew better than to think that meant his friend was awake. Only a few days ago he had learned of Techno's strange new habit in the worst of ways.

Phil had spent another evening trying to track down where the stranger had come from. His head was starting to feel stuffed with cotton, however. The dull thrumming in the back of his skull was a clear sign he needed a break. He rubbed at his cheeks, attempting to wake himself up with the press of cold fingers.

He should prep himself a cup of tea before getting some shut-eye.

Before he could get that far he heard it. It wasn't so much a scream as it was a horrible noise that cut into his very soul, as if a dying animal was close to imitating what a person should sound like.

Phil was outside and at Techno's door in a flash, throwing it open.

The piglin was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. Protecting himself with arms wrapped tightly around them, claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. As far as nightmares went neither Phil nor Techno was a stranger to bad dreams, with Techno's in particular having a tendency to be more volatile.

This was worse than Phil had ever seen it before.

And without thinking – without stopping to even consider things might be different now – he went over to comfort Techno as he had done a hundred times before.

Techno flinched away from his touch violently enough for the couch to bang into the wall, scrambling and slipping, wheezing. Phill realized he had been inches away from losing a finger if his reflexes were any slower than they were.

Red eyes settled on him and almost instantly softened with recognition, but that didn't take away the edges of weariness, of fright.

"Phil..." Techno exhaled, said his name as if it was a surprise.

"Hey." Phil curled his fingers. "Did you-"

"It's fine, just uh... dreams, ya know. You can go now. Please."

And it wasn't a question. It was a demand, thinly veiled under friendly deference. Phil had never felt as if Techno minded being in his presence. Now, he could tell how badly Techno wanted to run away from him as if it were a physical pull ripping his heart to shreds.

Techno didn't want him here.

"Yeah," he said, drew back his hand to scratch his shoulder as if they didn't both know where else it was supposed to go – where Phil wanted it to go. But Techno had rejected his comfort. "Yeah, I'll just check on you in the morning."

He went back to his house and stared at the communicator's screen for the remainder of the night.

Standing in front of the same door again, the memories of that night crept into Phil's mind.

This time there were no noises, though the lights were still on. Phil was surprised to find Ranboo inside in addition to Techno, both of them sitting on the couch. The sight was a little comical, with how Ranboo had folded himself to fit and was leaning almost entirely into Techno's side despite being so much taller, using the piglin as a glorified pillow as he slept. Techno was pressed against the armrest in what looked to be an uncomfortable position but he too was sleeping.

For a moment Phil simply stood there and appreciated how absolutely mundane this scene was. He had missed it in the past weeks.

It was painful, but not in a bad way. Like how old scars itch sometimes even when the weapons of the wounds that caused them had long since been reduced to rust. Phil knew he hadn't been the most pleasant to be around lately either, trying to find something that didn't even exist. Obsessing with revenge when he should be focussing on healing. He should apologize to Ranboo later for putting him through the wringer like that.

Perhaps they were all ready to let that part go.

So he woke them up and told them of his plan.

The walk over to that place passed in tense silence.

Phil only told the other two he was going because it would have felt wrong not to, he hadn't expected either of them to say yes. Techno being... well, Techno, maybe it shouldn't have surprised him at all.

When its dark towers finally peeked out from between densely packed trees, Phil couldn't help but stare. It hadn't sunk in how he had only seen the base from above when he first came here – hardly sparing it a second glance when leaving. Walking up to it now felt akin to approaching a beast lying in wait, jaw spread wide in greeting.

Ready to swallow them whole.

He spared a glance towards Techno, Carl's reins clasped tightly in his hand. If returning left any such negative impression on him, he wasn't letting it show. Not to the average person. Phil could read the small tells that betrayed him.

A tail curled tighter than usual, ears pinned back the slightest amount. Techno held his arms too close to his side, wanting to cover for some invisible vulnerability.

Phil narrowed his eyes at him. "We're doing this?"

Techno turned his head. His heels dug into Carl's flank, bringing the horse to a stop a decent walking distance from the makeshift castle they were approaching. When he stepped off, he looped the lead around a tree and wordlessly both Phil and Ranboo followed his example.

"We're doing this," Techno said.

Together, they entered the beast's lair.