Day 7 - Used as an experiment with hurt!Techno
Other tags: Piglin!Techno, extreme dehumanization, unethical science, forced drowning, muzzles, hurt/no comfort
Summary: Research on how a piglin subject survives in the Overworld, test 1
Technoblade had found himself in shitty situations before, but this one had to take the cake. The two men who had brought him there were talking, and ignoring how Techno struggled against the restraints keeping him locked in a heavy, iron chair.
"Its intelligence seems to be quite advanced, nearly on par with human levels." The older man looked at their companion, who nodded and wrote something down. "Certainly far more than what we expect from their species."
"Could exposure to the Overworld have led to a rapid increase of cognitive functions?" the other asked.
"It's a possible theory. But the fact that its brain is able to even reach such advanced faculty is a surprise. We've tested with exposing Piglins to our technology and culture before, even going so far as to send researchers to live among their sounders. Some progress was made in teaching them, yet they remained animals at best. Smart animals, but animals still."
"Then it can be assumed that whatever has allowed this one to develop higher intelligence might be tied to the same thing that makes it able to survive outside the Nether at all."
"That would be the most likely explanation." They turned around, eyes fixing on Techno with a cold, clinical ambiguity. "It also presented linguistic abilities far beyond the expected scope of Piglin language. Somebody taught it to talk, if not have comprehension for what it's saying."
Techno grunted behind the muzzle. Maybe if they'd take it off, he'd show them a linguistic ability or two. He already had a few choice words in mind.
"The key is figuring out how its body appears to avoid the zombification process." They picked up a small, glass vial. A dark purple liquid moved around inside, catching the light. "Let's start with a basic test."
They popped the cork. Techno started to struggle more, flinching away from the bottle as it was upturned over his arm. The potion of harming that spilled out sunk into his skin like acid, the sound of his fur burning away and melting into the flesh beneath. He screamed - though hardly a sound could escape past the leather forcing his jaw shut. He bucked against the chair, once, twice, before the worst of it passed and he was left with the fiery pain a constant throbbing.
"Interesting. Note down that its body reacts as one would expect from a living being to harming potions."
Another nod, more scribbling.
"We'll test the Smite enchantment next."
They picked a dagger up from the table, iridescent sheen betraying it had been enchanted - as if Techno couldn't tell from the runes etched into the blade. They considered him for a second, deliberating where to cut. Techno stared back at them, hoping they could tell from his eyes that he was silently planning their demise. If they did, they ignored it as they decided that his other arm would have to do.
Compared to the potion of harming, this was a lot less hurtful. They sunk the blade in just below his elbow, tracing a firm line along his outer arm to his wrist. When they drew back, they seemed thoughtful, and poked around the open injury with the steel tip. "No extraneous bleeding or destroying of tissue. The cut reacts as if made on living tissue."
"So its body truly is alive. How is that possible?" the one taking notes hadn't looked at Techno once. They only kept staring at their superior with awestruck adoration, like they had accomplished some amazing, impressive feat.
Techno thought he knew before what the urge to destroy somebody to their very core was. He was wrong.
"Let's not jump to any conclusions, no matter how likely they seem." They wiped the blade with a pristine white cloth, getting red splotches of Techno's blood all over the fabric. "We have only established its body does not share the same properties as an undead's would."
"What's the difference?"
The man smiled, patiently. "It could very much still be dead, just mimicking living reactions in its tissue. There's only one way to find out."
Techno's heart stopped in his chest as they pushed the tub of water forward. His struggling had halted at the realization that they weren't fruitful and he'd do better conserving his energy, but the prospect of what they were planning to test next made it hard not to pull at the restraints. Even with his full body weight, the chair was bolted to the floor and escape impossible.
This was going to happen.
"Put some gold on you. We don't want it to get ravenous." They each donned a gold helmet, and it looked so ridiculous Techno wanted to laugh.
Did they really think that was going to make a difference? Did they really think he would hesitate to tear their throats out given the chance?
The man pulled out another vial, much bigger this time. They smashed it on the ground next to the chair, standing back and covering their own mouth while waiting for the fumes to take effect and dissipate. Techno still couldn't move, so he had no choice but to breathe in the weakness potion, feeling the automatic slackening of his muscles in response.
He sagged back in the chair, unable to keep upright.
They unbuckled the muzzle first and Techno took in a few deep breathes, knowing he should probably spare the oxygen while he could. "Don't do this," he said.
"You have to time for three minutes. In the case that the results are favorable, we don't want accidental brain damage. That would ruin the entire experiment going forward." They were undoing the straps, but Techno couldn't lift a finger no matter how badly he wanted to.
"Stop! Don't do this," he pleaded.
And then two hands found his shoulders, pushed him out of the chair and onto his knees. Techno swore he could see his own reflection in the water.
"Time?"
The person taking notes nodded, communicator in hand. "Go."
They shoved him under. The water was cold, forcing its way up his nostrils almost immediately. No matter how much Techno tried to get up, the arm pressing down on the back of his neck was a solid weight, an anchor looped around and forcing him down. Or maybe it was more accurate to say the weakness potion made it have the same strength in keeping him pinned. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't see anything-
He couldn't breathe.
His lungs hurt from how badly Techno was trying to keep the air inside him, but eventually it became impossible and the pressure escaped in a rupture of bubbles. Then there was nothing and he tried to resist but he could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, instinct forcing him to try and inhale, to survive.
The only thing that happened was him inhaling a mouthful of water, coughing yet unable to dispel it again.
His claws swung at the tub, at the man's arms keeping him down, but through the potion's effect Techno could barely lift them, let alone have them be of any use. His lungs were bursting, entire chest compressing with a need for oxygen that couldn't come.
He was dying.
Then the arm moved and lifted him and Techno was on the ground, rolling into his side, retching out mucus and water from some deep part of him it never belonged at and every breathe hurt so much he wanted to cry, while simultaneously feeling like the most heavenly pleasure the world had to offer.
The man hovered over him. Techno lacked the energy to glare at them anymore.
"Fascinating. It truly is alive then."
"How? It's a piglin, it shouldn't… how?"
They bent down to pull him up again, put him back in the chair and refasten the straps. Techno was too busy heaving to fight back, even if the potion had allowed him to (which it didn't).
"That's what we'll have to find out." They turned, starting to leave the room without a second glance at Techno now soaked and trembling, barely able to keep his eyes open. "We'll run a series of tests tomorrow. I want to rule out causes related to blood, brain matter, and genetics first. We should also test poison effects."
Their voices faded away with their departure. And Techno, left alone, did not fight the temptation of unconsciousness any longer.
