Notes & Disclaimers:

1) I don't own Minecraft, or the people these characters are based on.

2) This is a Hermitcraft/DreamSMP crossover.

3) This is Hermit Tubbo & Techno AU.


Author's Note

I am aware of the news from yesterday. Even with Techno gone, I felt that it was still best to continue updating this story, though that may take some time. I'm currently updating the story on here, up to the point where it has the same amount of chapters on Tumblr and AO3. Once that's done, updates will slow down as writing is... complicated.

As they say: Techno never dies.


Description

There are two newcomers on the server, and no one knows how they got there. The trauma that they have, especially the child, concerns the many members of Hermitcraft and their chats to no end, wondering just how that had happened.
Or…
Techno regrets shooting those rockets at Tubbo. As the piglin hybrid tightly hugs the bleeding teen to his chest, a flash of white engulfs the two and they disappear. The fading white reveals a world neither recognizes.


Chapter Four

Philza stares at where the duo had disappeared, the frown clear on his face easily masking the pain he feels. There was no warning for the flash of light, only anger displayed on the faces of his oldest son and Dream paired with the pain on Tubbo's burned features. The memory of that festival has his burned wings curling tightly to his back, aching to be let out of the dimension he had hastily shoved them into. They shiver and fluff up at the thought of his other son, of how he begged to be killed.

Even with the urge to spread his wings, the avian shakes his head and sets off for Techno's home. Despite the lack of its main owner, the building is still a place of safety for him. Besides, Dream wouldn't suspect him to go there, let alone know where it is. The being wouldn't know that he had hidden several things in and around his eldest's home.

With a small grin that doesn't reach his eyes, Philza heads to the nearest nether portal. While there isn't one at Techno's home, not with the hybrid's paranoia of being found, he'll be able to get close enough with the ones already existing. Even then, he doesn't need the nether to find his way.

•~=~•

The light tap on his helmet draws the being back to the land of waking, shaking away the drowsiness that clouds his thoughts. The admin shoots a questioning look in the direction of his friend's breathing, hoping that she's standing there. He's been wrong before, and the other gets a kick out of it when it's not done during stressful moments.

"He'll be fine," Cleo states, her voice followed by the sound of her settling in a chair. "Prophecies rarely harm those who tell them. Joe's never had to deal with that kind. Golden carrot?"

Xisuma huffs at the abrupt change of topic but accepts the carrot either way. It's given to him with ease, the being having no issue working with and even around her admin's lack of sight. Some of the others sometimes act weird when they remember it, and it always causes him to sigh, usually with a bit of annoyance. Maybe it's due to Cleo figuring it out not long after she joined the group, and her realizing that he can work just as well as they can despite lacking something considered important.

Maybe it's too soon for some of them, the majority of them having learned his secret right after Bdubs rejoined their group in the last world. Doc and Iskall have the least issue with it, both having some idea of what it's like due to being partially blind. False knew long before he had even joined Hermitcraft, having helped him learn English Braille. They had bumped into each other in one of the many hubs' libraries, returning from adventures to unknown worlds with questions and confusion. And Biffa… Well, he needed help fixing his helmet during the times it broke, and Biffa was the best of them for mechanical work. At least that was before Doc joined and challenged the cyborg with the chaos that he would create.

"What happens when it's a prophecy that harms the seer?" Xisuma asks, curious as to how it works. The silence he gets is telling, and his thoughts turn to what he heard. "Any idea as to what it means?"

"Play it for me again?" She asks in response, fingernails tapping against the table. Her voice sounds closer than before like she's leaning toward him.

With a tap against his helmet, Echo replays the recording several hours earlier. With bated breath and probably a frown on her face, Cleo listens as closely and carefully as possible.