The darkness has started to feel cloying more than anything, choking him.
Sleep shouldn't be like this. Not even hibernation, which pulls him deeper down than usual and leaves Techno disoriented when he wakes up, never throws his thoughts into this much disarray. Techno's eyelids are glued together, and all the effort he puts into opening them only rewards him with a light stutter, the smallest fluttering of his lashes peeling away.
Techno is warm. Not comfortably so, reminiscent of the blankets on his couch that Niki embroidered or the fire burning in Phil's cabin as he makes tea. This is a heat stuck under his skin, crawling through his veins with a squirming sensation. He feels sick, unable to think. What happened? How did he get here?
His head is yanked back by his hair, neck protesting at the sudden jerk. Techno's mouth opens automatically, but no sound comes out. It's as if his vocal cords were paralyzed with the rest of his body. Whatever took a hold of him scoffs and shoves him down. Techno's face hits the ground chin first, the pain of the impact dull and far away.
Oh. He drank the stew that had a potion mixed in.
"Turn over." The voice is accompanied by a shoe nudging his side, the toe digging into the soft spot between his ribs. When Techno isn't fast enough to react, they kick him instead.
Techno curls around his side with a groan. Another nudge, firmer this time, rolls him onto his back. He blinks, vision too unfocused to make out their facial expression. The man looking down at him smirks, then kneels.
"That did more of a number on you than I expected," they say, grabbing his chin roughly to angle his face back and get a better look at him. "Maybe I mixed in too much…" Techno tries to speak, but is prevented from doing so by their fingers digging into his cheeks harsher, keeping his mouth shut. "Easier to handle, though."
Despite everything, Techno attempts to force out words. "Screw y-"
Their other hand wraps around his throat, inches above the collar, pressing down hard. Techno chokes on the exhale, arms jolting to come up so he can push them off but unable to muster up more than a spasm because of the drugs. A potion of Weakness, most likely. Techno feels as if all the energy was drained out of him.
"Hush, hush." They press down a little harder, enough for him to start coughing as he struggles for air. "I don't want to hear any words out of your mouth unless they show me that you've learned your lesson."
After a few tense seconds, right as Techno's lungs start to burn too much for him to take, the man releases him.
"Now, where were we? Ah yes, you calling me Sir." They stand and walk over to the bracket in the wall, taking the torch out.
"You're still going on about that?" Techno asks hoarsely, throat raw.
"You know, when I came up with this plan, your stubbornness was almost endearing to me. But it's quickly growing stale." Kneeling at his side once more, the flame flickers into Techno's field of vision, a swaying motion as they wave it around carelessly. "You need to know how to pick your battles, Blood God."
Techno chuckles. He should start charging his patron some kind of commission based on how often he's been mistaken for the guy. Chat jeers, adding fuel to the fire. Techno is no god. He is so painfully mortal that his insides cringe at it, hoarding totems into chests and hidden compartments for a splinter of safety. Technoblade never dies.
He weakly flinches back when the torch is held inches from his face, sparks hitting his cheek.
The heat prickles across his skin, not helping with the fever brewing in his veins. Probably because the injuries he got so far weren't treated even once by his kidnapper. The back of Techno's head itches and if the concussion wasn't concerning him as much, he'd probably be worried about getting an infection so close to his brain. Techno is no medical expert but that seems... Not ideal.
"Let me help you with that," the man says, jerking on his hair so he's looking up at the stone ceiling. Techno didn't notice the blood that was dripping from his chin ever since hitting the ground, since the cut is shallow. They press the flame against his face to cauterize the wound. For a bare moment, Techno wrenches away from their grip, trying to escape the pain. Not that it's much use.
The man laughs, pinning him against the ground with a knee putting pressure on his chest.
"Sit still or this is going to scar ugly," they say.
If Techno wasn't grinding his teeth to keep his screaming at bay, he'd respond with a quip. The pain starts before he can come up with one.
When he's done, the man returns the torch to the bracket. Techno tries to track them with his eyes, blinking slow and lethargic. What he wouldn't give for a little bit of murder right now. Just a smidge.
"Get up," the man says, standing before him again.
Techno stares up at them, still prone on the ground. See, the thing is, getting up was on the agenda anyway. Techno isn't one for lounging around, and he also realizes it's not a good position to be in. Lying down with this guy ominously hovering. But now that he's been told to do something, he kind of wants to refuse just for the heck of it.
Then they take the leash attached to the collar in hand again.
The chain is already stretched about as far as it can go without the enchantment sending its fiery agony all through Techno's body. And all they need to do is tug it up the slightest amount, a little flick of their wrist.
Techno's back bends upward, but he's not quick enough, arms scrambling to push himself up against the wall. The purple glow comes alive, and with it the sensation of liquid fire in his bloodstream. Techno does screams this time before he manages to swallow it down. The man releases the leash, allowing him to sag against the bricks.
"Don't make me ask again. Get up."
Swallowing away the taste of blood in his mouth, Techno splays his fingers against the wall and manages to make it up on his shaking legs. Maybe gravity is kept at bay mostly by the leaning, but it's better than nothing. And it allows him to be eye to eye with his torturer.
"You wouldn't even be able to fight a child in this state," the man says with an odd mixture of glee and disgust in their voice. As if they're simultaneously revolted by Techno's struggle as a sign he's not strong enough for their tastes, and excited about it because they love feeling like they're besting him.
"Wouldn't be a fair fight," Techno slurs. He can practically feel his blood running into his extremities, making him more dizzy. His vision refuses to focus again.
"Hm, perhaps." The man shrugs. "A rare sight it is. The Blood God on his knees."
"I'm quite literally standing right now," Techno replies.
A kick is aimed at his kneecap next. Under any normal circumstances, his reflexes would be quick enough to sidestep the attack, but with the potion dragging him down, Techno can't react before he's already sinking onto one knee. He catches himself with his hands, wrist bones clicking from the force of it.
"Bruh, why did you ask me to get up if you're going to kick me down anyway?"
The leash is tugged again, causing another brief burst of fiery pain sparking alive every nerve of his body. Techno pitches forward, but they keep pulling the leash up, up, up, until the overwhelming torment becomes so bad he has to get on his hands and knees again just to make it stop, biting his tongue until it bleeds so he can move through the pain.
"I'm doing it to show you your place, pet. Do you understand?"
Techno doesn't answer, heaving deep breaths to bear the enchantment's fire. The man keeps it there for seconds that drag into minutes, until Techno is shaking and his exhales are closer to gags.
When they let go, he collapses onto the ground.
"Do you understand?" the man asks again, raising their voice.
"I understand you're a tryhard," Techno mumbles, not sure they can even hear him when his face presses into the floor. The cold stone against his forehead feels almost soothing, rubbing the sweat over his brow.
He expects more pain. But the man simply sighs. He grabs Techno's shoulders and turns him over, so there he is again looking up at their annoying face. Techno would love to punch a few teeth out.
"You really are something else," they say. "I tested this enchantment on a few different people before coming here. Most of them gave up a lot quicker than you."
"Don't flatter me," Techno grunts.
They lean over him and take something out of their pocket. It's a bottle of water. But one with a light glimmer to it, betraying that there is potion mixed in.
"I was going to give this to you for good behavior," the man says. "But I think you earned it purely for your pigheadedness." They laugh at their own joke and flick one of his ears, making Techno flinch. They put the bottle to his lips and tip it over. Techno can't refuse to swallow, not at the speed they're going, unless he wants to drown. He feels the Weakness enter his system almost immediately.
His vision wavers more, the lethargy returning tenfold. His ears are ringing too though, so at least it's drawing out their annoying chirping.
"You're simply making this too much fun."
The days after that are a blur of agony.
Or Techno assumes it's days. He honestly wouldn't know, and this time it has nothing to do with being locked in a windowless cell. Every hour and minute and second just blends together when he's drugged constantly, sluggish, thoughts too fluid to string together. He wakes up and then there is pain - so much pain he can hardly breathe - and then the stranger shoves something down his throat and it drains him until he can't do anything but sleep again. Rinse and repeat.
He wakes up.
The stranger pulls on the leash again and again, filling him with nothing but pain.
He sleeps.
He wakes up.
A hand wraps around his throat and squeezes, Techno's feeble twitching making them laugh, making them grip harder so he gasps for air.
He sleeps.
He wakes up.
He is put on his knees, his hands tied up and pulled behind his body so the muscles strain from the overextension. Then he is left that way long enough for the joints of his shoulders to pop out of the sockets. He screams.
He passes out.
He wakes up.
They have his hair in one hand and the leash in the other, not pulling it completely taut this time but threatening to. The sparks burn beneath his skin, not fully ablaze to submerge him with pain. Close enough to give a taste. Techno's mouth is too dry to make more noises. He can't talk back anymore, or fight this, or even bear it. He needs it to stop. Chat is doing the screeching for him and it makes his brain feel as if it's being stabbed by a million needles.
"St-Stop-" His voice breaks on the singular plea.
The man ignores it, yanking on the chain again. Reigniting the fire.
That pain is the only thing Techno has felt in days. His every nerve is dulled and the flames are the sole thing that filter through anymore.
Another croak bubbles up, his eyelashes sticking together with something almost moist before he pops them open, a haggard breath that tears through him like a gasp.
"Please," he begs. Not caring anymore. Chat can make fun of him later, when the suffering is over. He's not going to get anywhere if he dies here.
"That's not how we ask for things, pet," the man hisses, plunging him into agony again with another short yank on the leash.
"Stop it, please," Techno says between pants.
"No!" they roar, in his ear, bouncing around his skull, joining the chorus. "Ask properly!"
"Please," Techno chokes out, "Sir."
The pain stops abruptly, instantly, almost sudden enough that its absence comes as a shock to him as much as the days, hours, minutes of suffering did. Techno falls completely limp, the position terribly vulnerable in a way he would normally loathe. But he can't move, expending all the energy that remains to keep breathing.
And the man strokes his hair.
"You did well," they say softly, so very gentle. "I hope it will stick, or we'll need to repeat the lesson until it does."
Something cold is pressed to his lips again. The bottle, Techno doesn't hesitate to swallow it down this time. Drinking up the water and the potion both.
When Weakness pulls his brain into blessed numbness this time, it feels almost like a reward.
Techno wakes up finally able to pull himself back to awareness, and also finally alone.
His shoulders and back hurt, he's cold to his very core. The first trickles of consciousness bring the dim sensation of something sickening in his gut. Techno turns his head, dry retches twice, then pukes out a liquid vomit onto the stones. There is nothing in his stomach to expel aside from water and acid.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Techno sits up and leans against the wall, closing his eyes.
He doesn't open them even when he hears the door creak, and the footsteps of the stranger coming down the stairs. Only when something licks his hands does he stir, petting the dog's soft snout.
For a moment, Techno almost smiles.
He really hopes the hound army is okay. Ranboo must have noticed his absence by now? Maybe Phil is back. Maybe-
"You need to eat," the man says. "You look pathetic. Can't parade you around if you look one windfall from blowing away."
Techno scoffs, the noise soft and contained. "And whose fault is that?"
The dog that they brought returns to their heels, eagerly circling its master. Techno notices now that the man is carrying a bowl of stew again. He automatically scrunches his face up at it, the smell mouth-watering but the memory unpleasant. Seeing his reaction, the stranger grins.
"No tricks this time, I promise. You need to get your strength back. If we continued this way, I might kill you by accident. Wouldn't that be a shame?" They hold the bowl out to him.
Techno wordlessly reaches for it, which leads them to snatch it away before his fingers can graze it.
"That was a question," they say, voice patient yet stern.
Almost, he refuses. Or says something mindless, an angry retort. But the man is right. Techno needs to get his strength back, something starvation won't allow. Would it not be better to swallow a small amount of pride in return for a chance to escape later? Techno won't run very far in his current health. He needs food.
He needs to play along, for a little bit.
"Yes sir," he says, insides seething.
Their grin grows wider, and if Techno wasn't already sick to his stomach maybe the sight would have nauseated him. He reaches for the bowl again, but the man still doesn't allow him to take it.
Instead, they turn it over so the stew spills over the ground.
The dog leaps forward, licking at cobblestone. Techno frowns and looks at it, glancing up at the man who is simply staring at him expectantly. Waiting for their pets to eat. He sighs, and reaches out to take one of the bigger chunks of meat. Five second rule and all, though he doubts this crappy cell is cleaned often enough to justify the excuse.
The man nods with satisfaction before walking away.
Phil loves his trips, but it's always the last few days that are the hardest.
When he's loaded down with gifts, homesickness is at its worst, and he longs for the comfort of his familiar bed. He misses his friends, obviously. Wandering is in his nature too as an Elytrian, but he hasn't seen Techno and the others for close to three weeks. So he's looking forward to the reunion.
Maybe that is why the silence concerns him. The commune looks almost dead when he looks at it from a distance.
Phil shakes his head and trudges through the snow towards his own cabin first. He is being fucking ridiculous. Ranboo and Techno might just be out, or sleeping. None of their homes has a fire burning, but that doesn't mean anything. Ranboo often forgets to light his, and Techno sometimes doesn't keep track of fueling fresh logs when he's working on a project. Phil is being silly.
The dogs start baying as soon as he's on the porch, restless. None of the other pets make a single noise. Carl's paddock is empty.
Ignoring it, pushing away the tiny amount of worry gnawing at the corner of his mind, Phil enters his cabin and starts putting away his supplies. He's not super meticulous when it comes to organizing, but he wants to get rid of all the shit he's been lugging around first. His poor shoulders will thank him, as will his wings. They never fully recovered from the explosion. Phil has only just been able to start gliding with them again, putting any weight on them is ill-advised.
When he's done, he cleans up the rest of his house, where dust has gathered on practically every surface. Distantly, this also does register as odd to Phil. Usually, Techno will at least be inside his house often enough to grab stuff to keep the place from getting this grimy. And the flower on Phil's desk has died. Techno didn't remember to water it?
It nags worse and worse.
Phil checks his communicator. He sent a message to Techno when he arrived at the server, not getting any response. Again, this didn't seem wholly unusual to Phil. Techno wasn't always the most punctual in responding, or perhaps he was busy with something.
Combined with everything else, it only leads to Phil being more restless.
Eventually, he decides to simply cross the small wooden walkway and check for himself. Worst case scenario Techno is out somewhere, and Phil will just have to busy himself until he gets back. No harm.
And it's not as if Phil doesn't have an extensive to-do list to get to while waiting for Techno's return.