Time has an annoying tendency to slip away from you when you spend several days stuck in a windowless room chained to the wall.
Technoblade has no way of knowing how long ago the stranger who kidnapped him left. He counted the minutes for a while, but gave up on it after the two-hour mark, both because it was starting to bore him and because Chat was being annoying. Not that they're ever not annoying him to some extent, it's their favorite activity. But repetitive numbers do not mix well with their endless chatter. So Techno resigns to waiting without tracking the time.
Techno is going to assume the stranger knows that he needs water as much as the average human. Piglin genes or not, dehydration is no joke. Techno can feel the groggy sensation of the potion's aftereffect fade and be replaced by a dull pounding between his temples. He's not as disoriented anymore, the echoes of the sluggish way his brain operated before and the blurred edges of his vision lift as the drug works its way out of his system. The headache stays. Maybe that's also because of the possible concussion, but Techno is very certain dehydration is a factor too. His throat hurts a little, dry and aching. His tongue feels slightly too swollen for his mouth.
Maybe it's a good thing he has a much bigger issue to worry about.
Pain isn't great, but it's familiar. Techno knows how to handle pain. At some point, his shoulders and arms stopped hurting as bad and started to tingle unpleasantly. Either the blood flow has been cut off too long or his nerves just got numb to it. Neither is a great option. If Techno is forced to keep this position much longer, it might do permanent damage to his muscles and joints.
He sighs and pulls his legs back, awkwardly shifting them under himself to take some of the pressure off. It means he has to put his entire weight onto his shins for a moment, as he drags his ankles over the ground. Techno pushes up on his knees and it's enough to almost make him tip forward, though the chains prevent that. Techno hisses when his arms extend again, shoulders angled up unnaturally. He carefully tries to stand, only for one of his hoofs to slide out from under him and he falls against the wall again, hitting his tailbone on the brick. A strangled gasp escapes him, but he has the foresight to land on his hip and not his spine. His head bounces against the wall, the sticky blood there keeping his hair all matted together in a disgusting lump that cushions some of the blow.
Would you look at that? Who knew an open head wound would have its advantages after all?
Chat seems amused at that, though Techno has half a feeling they're amused at his suffering. He's getting a lot of L's and not much compassion - which is about the usual for them. Maybe it's a good thing. The last thing he needs is their pity. They're clearly not very worried about him getting out of this eventually, so Techno is not concerned about the situation either.
But when he tries to swallow away the dry, scratchy feeling in his throat, he finds it hard not to notice the collar sitting snugly around his neck.
The stranger's arrival is once again foreshadowed by the sound of a door slamming further along in the building, then a few seconds of silence. Techno wishes he could get a better lay of the land up there, it would go a long way in him figuring out an escape plan. There are too many unknown factors for him to confidently come up with anything. When the door at the top of the staircase opens, Techno once more finds himself looking up at their smug expression. He's already sick of them.
"There we are! I hope the accommodation has been treating you well?" They descend the stairs two at a time, humming as they go. The veneer of fake giddiness that hangs around them pisses Techno off, but it's interesting too. He wonders what he can find if he dissects it. If this is all part of their grand master plan, whatever that is. Or if they are relying on an overblown persona to hide their apprehension.
"Yeah, it's pretty cozy," Techno says evenly, sarcasm dripping from every word. They have to be clever enough to notice, though their unwavering grin betrays no hard feelings.
Technoblade knows they have a vicious streak. The blood drying on the nape of his neck can attest to this.
"Good. I want you to feel comfortable, since you'll be staying here for a while."
Like the day before, they are dressed in simple clothes with no armor or weapons. Underestimating the enemy is one of the easiest mistakes to make though, and it's a blade that cuts both ways. They're familiar enough with him to know who he is. They had to have observed the commune a while to know which cabin was Techno's, to determine how best to sneak inside unnoticed, to see when both Phil and Ranboo left so Techno was alone. All of this is heading towards a conclusion that Techno doesn't like.
There are no coincidences.
"I'd be a lot more comfortable without these," Techno says, rattling the chains. If it's more like a sad little twitch of his arms, neither of them mentions it. He's not certain he can even move his fingers right now.
The man squints at him a moment, not losing the insufferable smile but maybe there's a glint of something to their eyes. If they truly did their homework on Technoblade, they are wise to be careful.
"Fine," they say. "Wouldn't want my new toy to get damaged already."
Techno scowls again. They really know how to get on his nerves, he's not appreciating their word choice at all. He doesn't get a ton of time to dwell on it because they step forward then, raising their leg to plant the heel of their shoe on Techno's left shoulder.
He screams, the sharp wave of pain bright enough to override the numbness, swallowing his thoughts whole. The man grinds their foot down into the overstretched muscle more, simultaneously pushing Techno's upper body back into the wall and crudely pinning him in place.
"Hope you don't mind, but I'm just taking my precautions here. You're feisty enough that I could see you trying to cause problems." Their tone is playful, Techno has a hard time catching it through the intense pain blotting out his senses. He barely notices the man bending down and putting a hand on the back of his head. "That's okay, though. Your feistiness is what I like about you."
They push it forward, fingers roughly prying his hair out of the way. If their nails scratch into the open wound during their journey to his neck, they do not seem to care. Once there, they brush his loosened braid aside to attach something at the back of his collar. They reach up and Techno has a very brief but frightening moment of feeling choked.
Some kind of chain. They connected a leash to the collar.
They hook the other end to the ring in the wall, the one that the wrist shackles are also looped through. Swiftly, without lifting their foot an inch and giving Techno any reprieve from the pain of his shoulder, they unlatch the shackles. Techno feels the chain lower, his arms falling limply into his own lap. The man is smart enough to move away before he can take a breath or recover. Techno can't blame them, they both know attacking the stranger would be the first thing he does.
Or it might be the first thing he would have tried normally. Techno doesn't know how successful it would have been. The stress position did a number on his muscles, so even moving his shoulders an inch is agony right now. Maybe it's fine if he just… sits there for a moment.
"Good," the man says. Techno tips his head back a little to stare at them.
His wrists are still attached to each other with the shackles, but the chain is definitely a good fifteen inches in length. Enough for him to perform basic tasks with his hands. The leash that connects the collar to the wall too isn't exactly short, it only felt that way earlier because the stranger tugged on it while attaching it. Techno would need to get up to know for sure, but he'll be able to take a handful of steps forward.
Enough to kill them, definitely. Techno needs very little room for that.
It's a tempting notion, as soon as he has his strength back.
"Eat." They throw something at him and Techno admittedly fumbles a bit trying to catch it. It's a peach. He eyes them wearily, but they only keep smirking back.
Techno is parched, and being stubborn about this won't be very helpful in the long run.
He bites into the slightly overripe fruit, the sweetness a little too sharp to bear and stinging at his raw throat. The juice does go a long way in chasing the dehydration away, even if Techno would still prefer water at some point.
While a bitter pill to swallow, Techno has to admit he's completely reliant on this man's whims. He won't have water until they allow him to.
They watch him eat in silence, contemplative almost. Esurient, taking his demeanor in with greedy eyes and pleased at what they find there.
Techno finishes the fruit quickly, the pit sitting in his hand and he holds it a moment before tossing it into an opposite corner of the room. Perhaps only to be difficult.
"Isn't that much better?" the man asks with glee.
Techno doesn't answer, he's busy trying to see if his shaky arms will allow him to get up yet. His wrist bones click unpleasantly when he plants his palms on the ground, but they only wobble slightly as he goes about pushing upright.
He does not get very far before a sudden kick against his sternum makes him collapse.
Techno doubles over, instinctively pulling his elbows up and forward to protect his ribcage. Ironic, then, that the second kick aims lower and hits the soft flesh of his stomach. Techno winces in pain and once again feels those slender fingers wrap into his hair.
He's really starting to loathe that.
"We've wasted enough time, your training will begin now. And the first thing you should learn is that you will answer me when I speak to you, understand?" They yank his head back further. Techno opens his eyelids enough to glare at them. They don't appreciate that at all, pressing him into the wall harder, so the head wound flares with anguish, a fresh trickle of blood is felt against Techno's neck. "Do. You. Understand?"
"Yes," Techno grits out - more anger than obedience. They take it in stride, letting him go.
"You're a quick learner, this shouldn't be too hard for you." The man laughs as if it's a joke. Techno straightens his spine as much as the pain will allow him to.
None of it is really too bad, he's endured so much worse than this. But the concussion isn't helping matters and he knows he's weakened from having no food or water for a while. How many days has he been here?
Has anybody noticed he's gone?
A thought quickly discarded. Techno needs to focus on the present.
"Lesson number two," the man goes on unimpeded, pacing in front of him, oblivious to Techno's rising fury or perhaps finding it beneath them. "You will address me with a fitting title. Sir or Master, either will do."
"Oh, I see." Techno chuckles. "You're one of those weirdos."
The man stops. They don't turn, but their head tilts sideways in an almost grotesque craning of the neck as they look at him. "You really don't get it, do you?"
Techno exhales. "Get what?"
"You seem to think this is some sort of game. You're mistaken." They swoop forward, Techno curling up defensively in anticipation of another kick but they have closed their fist around the leash of the collar instead, pulling it up and then holding it in place so it comes dangerously close to cutting off his airway again. "Whatever you were before doesn't matter. Because within these four walls, you're nothing but a pet for me to do what I want with. And you're going to behave as such."
Something bubbles up in Techno, breaking through his hurting chest with a guttural chuckle. "Not really beating the weirdo accusations right now, bro." He tilts his head back, and if that makes the sharp metal dig into the skin beneath his chin more, Techno ignores it. The surface feels heated, searing almost. The chain glows that same peculiar purple as the collar itself did. "I am not your pet."
The man steps back a pace, then two. They cross their arms, looking down at him. "You're already kneeling for me like one, pet."
That's what ignites the fire in Techno's gut, the anger sudden and heavy and enough for him to grab hold of. Emotions can fuel a lot of things, usually Techno tries to stay reasonable because it's what eliminates the most mistakes. Acting brash leads only to disaster.
He can only be successful at that so much of the time.
Movement surprisingly nimble for somebody who spent the past day or two chained to a wall, Technoblade shoots upright. His body hurts in so many different ways, he can practically feel the bruises forming. But adrenaline goes a long way in blotting out the pain and Techno does not buckle, nor does he hesitate. For a brief flash, he can see genuine shock on the stranger's face. They did not expect him to move this quickly, this smoothly.
Maybe they thought he was weaker. They underestimated him after all.
But they step back a bit more and as Techno surges forward he sees no true panic on their face.
He feels the leash on the collar grow taut.
He expects the snap of it pulling tight, since it's not hard to guess they were clever enough to step out of reach. What Techno could not have braced himself for is the sensation of liquid fire that fills his veins.
The heat starts where the metal of the collar sits snugly against his skin, burning bright enough Techno almost thinks he should smell the scent of searing meat tickling at his nostrils. Then it spreads through his body, leaving not an inch untouched in its relentless path to spread agony through him. Techno has had his fair share of injuries before, from simple cuts to near-amputations to one memorable time he got gored by a hoglin on an unfortunate trip to the nether. Nothing comes even close to this pain, to the feeling of having his blood boil inside him and burst into his extremities.
It's more the pull of the leash choking him than a conscious decision that makes Techno flinch back and against the wall. As soon as he does, the enchantment fades and leaves only his body trembling with the aftershock of the pain.
And the man in front of him laughs.
Techno is too busy panting and brushing the loose strands of hair out of his face to react right away. The braid he put into it the morning Phil left is pretty much gone, only halfway held together by the tie at the bottom. Techno breathes roughly, trying to draw air into his lungs while also convincing them that they're not on fire. His organs seem unwilling to believe him, and Techno can't tell if the little jolts of pain that continue to run through him are an actual aftereffect of the magic or his own imagination.
"You didn't think I was stupid enough to unchain your hands and not have another plan, were you?" the man asks. They're gloating, smug. They wanted Techno to attack them, so they could show off their wretched parlor trick.
Techno's knees are unsteady. He leans against the wall, too stubborn to sit down once more. Being on the same eye level as them is the only manner in which they don't currently have the upper hand.
"Answer me!" they demand, louder. Techno clenches his jaw until there's a small twinge of hurt, but does relent.
"I was kinda hoping you'd be that stupid, yeah."
They reach for him, and Techno moves his arms up. He'd take the satisfaction of breaking one of their fingers right now. But they curl their hand around the leash before Techno can and then the burning sensation is back, flooding every corner of his mind.
Techno doesn't feel the third kick, he only knows it happened because it knocks the last remaining oxygen out of him and he slides to the ground against the wall, desperately trying to breath again. Their foot slams into his face next. The room is filled with a resounding crack of breaking bone. Blood floods down Techno's face, his lips. The taste of it is the only thing sticking out over the continued burning all over.
Chat comes to life at the most unhelpful times.
They let the leash go, content to have Techno down beneath them again. That's what they take the most pleasure in, clearly. "It's a little enchantment of my own making. Combined with Unbreaking, it makes a fine tool for training pets, wouldn't you agree?"
The lack of weapons and armor is starting to make sense. Techno bites his tongue so hard more iron clogs his throat. "I'm not your pet," he repeats, twice as cold as before.
It falls just as flat.
"Maybe you're right," they say. They lean over him, confident the echoes of pain will keep Techno's muscles locked in place, too exhausted to move. Their palm pushes down on the chain leash so leisurely, as if hoping it will make him squirm. The fire of the enchantment is a prickle tracing along Techno's skin. "In here, you're less than that. You're nothing. You're a possession I own and deem worthy enough of my time to make something worthwhile of. And you will either accept that or pay the price."
Their teeth are much too sharp when they smile, pale gray eyes unreadable.
"Now, take to your second lesson. Will it be Sir or Master?"
"Neither of those sounds very appealing, I think I'm just going to kill you," Techno tells them, grinning at them with bloodied tusks.
He's tensing up in preparation for more pain. But they only stare at him, no longer smiling. Not looking disappointed either. They step away from them.
"We'll see how you'll feel after your first punishment," they say. Walking over to the wall, they lift the torch out of the bracket before heading for the door with the only light source the room had.
When the heavy door falls shut behind them this time, it leaves Techno in pitch-black darkness.