If the stranger thinks that leaving Techno alone is a form of punishment, they have another thing coming.
Techno doesn't really enjoy their company, he thinks he has made that abundantly clear. His entire body hurts, he's so dehydrated he can barely think straight, and every second without them is a second Techno can use to get his bearings. If anything, he's glad they're gone.
After they leave, he spends some time just sitting there. Slowly allowing every tense muscle inside him to unwind, trying to ride out the small spasms of pain still running through him. The darkness might be a reward more than anything. Techno finds it easier to focus on breathing when he doesn't have to deal with other stimuli. The collar sits so tight around his throat that it's impossible not to notice with every inhale.
Techno is no stranger to others comparing him to a weapon, a convenient tool to use when their goals align but not one that holds any agency. He's pretty certain this server has finally gotten the memo on his feelings about that.
To be compared to an animal? A dog that can be trained to do tricks on command?
That allows for a fresh sort of anger to build in his gut.
With the mention of dogs, Chat starts to wonder if Ranboo will be taking care of the dog army and Techno's other pets. Probably not. Techno likes the guy, he'd even go so far as to say he trusts Ranboo. But his memory issues mean he's not always the most perceptive person around. With Phil gone for weeks and Ranboo most likely not even noticing he's missing for the longest time, Techno can't rely on them to get him out. He'll have to escape on his own somehow. Well, that was the plan anyway. But now he has an additional reason to hurry up with it: he doesn't want Steve to eat any more of his foxes.
Techno blinks his eyes open when the pain isn't as bad anymore. He can't see a thing. The room has no windows, not even a crack in the foundation to let light through. Slowly, he stands. One hand against the wall allows him to feel the rough texture beneath his palm. His fingers press into a wet spot of blood, where his captor cracked Techno's head against the stones. Techno can blame the dizziness either on that, or on the fact he hasn't had anything to drink or eat in what must be coming up on two or three days. He can't keep track properly in here.
Walking along the wall, Techno tests the length of the collar's chain. He figured it wouldn't be long enough to get him to the door. The stranger is smarter than that. Besides, when Techno steps far enough to make the chain pull taut, he can feel the burning sensation rise in his veins again. But he can reach either wall, left and right. In one corner, his shin bumps into something cold and metallic. Techno crouches next to it, discovering it's a faucet. He grabs it in a fist but finds it firmly attached. Which makes sense, but it's always good to check stuff like that. He's mildly surprised that water does come out and disappears into a little grate set into the floor below the faucet - the grate is also tested for looseness bringing no result.
Techno cups his hands to wash his face from the sticky blood clinging to it, and then drinks some of the cold liquid. His throat burns, the water settles uncomfortably in his empty stomach. The nausea might mean Techno has a concussion. It would also explain why he has such a hard time keeping his balance. He leans against the wall again when getting up. The bricks are crumbly. Techno scratches slightly at one of them, wondering if he can break them with his bare hands. While it's a long shot, it might be his only option.
He walks to the back of the room first.
The collar's chain is attached to a peg in the wall. Techno can't see it in the dark, but he knows that's where the construction would be at its weakest. He instinctively tries to wrap his hand around the chain to give it a firm pull, but flinches when touching the metal burns his hand. Techno frowns. This enchantment is really something next level. He tries to think back to his days in Hypixel, whether he has ever heard of or seen anything similar. Imbuing the collar and chain with a burning effect is simple enough, but his captor was able to touch them without being hurt before. And it also automatically activates in certain circumstances.
Maybe that's why they seemed so sure of themselves without any weapons or obvious strength. They prefer to play dirty.
Techno is getting a really bad feeling about this entire thing.
The peg itself isn't much better as an option, Techno wiggles it around and finds that it digs a lot deeper into the bricks than he expected. He sits back against the wall for a moment, too dizzy to keep standing. It could take days if not weeks of effort on his part if he wants to get through the wall itself, not exactly time he has to spare.
Maybe he should just wait for the stranger to come back and try to get out then? If Techno can lure them into getting close enough and overpower them, he should be able to steal the keys and simply walk out of here.
Resting his head back against the wall, Techno closes his eyes. It makes no difference with how dark it is. The pounding between his temples hasn't stopped despite him drinking some water - another clue pointing towards concussion rather than dehydration. He probably shouldn't go to sleep.
"How about a story, Chat?"
Boredom makes them restless. Boredom makes Techno restless too, honestly. He'd rather sit here and try to recite the Iliad from heart than have nothing to do. And the voices like listening to his voice. It calms them down.
"Sing, oh goddess, about the anger of Achilles, son of Peleus…"
In the quiet darkness of the cell, time becomes almost fluid.
Techno sleeps, and he drinks water from the faucet, and he tells stories from the Iliad all the way to Patroclus' untimely demise. He thinks about Phil a lot, about Ranboo and Niki sometimes. He thinks about his foxes, and Steve. He returns to a routine of physical exercise just so he doesn't have to feel like his muscles are atrophying into weak tissue. Techno must pace the length of the cell a million times over.
He vomits up the water twice.
A concussion will do that. The skin around the wound itches, tight and heated. Sometimes, Techno feels more blood dripping down the back of his neck. He falls asleep easily and wakes up slowly, crawling from the depth of slumber. The room is so dark, Techno can't see a thing. Chat gets restless. Techno starts recounting the myths of Odysseus instead. The journey is endless. Techno doesn't know how much time passes in the cell.
After a while, he starts to wrench the peg again just because it's better than waiting around. He uses his fingernails to scratch and claw at the bricks. His fingers bleed, but the pain is easy to ignore. He can't see if he's making any progress. Techno remembers the tale of Sisyphus. He doesn't tell Chat that one. They've probably heard it before. When he gets too dizzy to keep standing, he drinks some more water and goes to sleep again.
He wakes up with vomit staining the front of his shirt, the acidic smell lingering in his nostrils.
His hands are slick with blood by now. Techno digs his fingers into the cracks he has created deeper, uncaring of the cuts he'll get. Or maybe they'll break. Techno wants to get out. He's sick of being here.
Chat urges him on, a choir of blood for the blood god, and they never much cared whose blood Techno spilled as long as it would flow freely. Techno grunts when a whole brick comes loose and he throws it to the ground. The peg is attached to another layer of the construction. Techno can't see in the pitch black of the cell, something he has come to hate. So he runs his fingers over it, into the sharp edges of the gap he has created.
Obsidian.
Only the outer layer is brick. The inside is made of obsidian.
"Heh…" Turning around, Techno sinks down until he's sitting against the wall again. "Chat, do you want to hear another story?"
He starts on the myth of Pandora that time, locked in a box from which there is no escaping. It seems only appropriate.
When the door opens, a sliver of light falls right into Techno's eyes. He flinches. The brightness is enough to sting after the long while he has been secluded in the dark. He pushes upright with his weakly shaking arms, pressing his spine into the wall to keep from falling over.
The stranger smirks at him from the stairway.
"Now, how has your stay been treating you, my dear?" Their steps are small, measured. Approaching him at a leisurely pace that allows them to drink in the sight of him properly.
They're enjoying this. Of course they are.
Techno waits for them to cross the distance, so he can smile up at them when they're trying to pull their whole 'menacingly hovering over him' schtick. "I've had worse," he says.
"I don't doubt it," the stranger says, eyes half-lidded in amusement. "I told you I did my research. I know all about you."
"You think you do," Techno corrects. The stranger keeps staring for a moment. Techno shrugs, looking up at where he ruined the wall. "Your interior design could use some work."
Their eyes flick up. With a deceptively neutral expression, they nod. "It seems so." When they look back down, they scrunch up their nose in disgust. "Not the only thing in need of some tidying up, I'd say. You look a mess."
"Thanks."
The stranger walks over to the faucet and wets something under the running water, something Techno realizes is a piece of cloth when they return to throw it into his lap. "Clean yourself up," they order. "I can't have my pet in such a state." They promptly turn to leave the room, though they return the torch to the bracket before they leave so Techno isn't left to suffer darkness again. He also decides not to put up a fight this time. Better to go along with it for now.
He presses the wet cloth to his forehead, cringing as some greasy hair flaps into his face. Techno is glad there is no mirror around because he probably looks terrible. He wipes the corners of his mouth and cleans the puke from his shirt, throwing the rag down when he's done. He reaches up to redo the braid in his hair, deciding to make it a bun instead when he notices how matted and dirty his hair is. Ugh, that's the worst. Chat laughs at him.
Techno was almost starting to enjoy their company. Fool he is.
The stranger returns a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup in their hands. They get close to Techno again and kneel in front of him. Techno's eyes are drawn to the stew, empty stomach clenching around nothing as the appetizing smell fills the room. He has known hunger before - starvation even - but he blames this distraction for the reason why he doesn't react in time before the stranger has their fingers curled in his hair again.
"Fuck, can't trust you to do even this much properly, can I?" they say. The wet cloth is swiped from the ground, as they wrench his head down. They scrub roughly at the wound at the back of Techno's head, uncaring for the low growl of pain Techno bites down. He instinctively pushes them off. But they hardly seem to mind.
They roll their eyes at him while stepping out of reach again before Techno has a chance to do more.
"Whatever. Eat your food, there's no point to you if you wither away."
Techno bites his tongue on the first few responses that pop up in his head at that. Briefly, he has half a mind to throw the damn food in their face out of pure pettiness. But he knows this will only serve to provoke them. And if they're right about one thing, it's that he needs to eat to keep his strength up.
"If you don't want me to wither, maybe don't shove me in a tiny, dark cell somewhere," Techno tells them as he brings the bowl to his lips. "That's not really a thriving environment."
The stranger grins thinly at his continued obstinance. "Didn't you say you've had worse?"
Techno hums, swallowing down a few mouthfuls of the stew eagerly. Hunger can quickly lead to desperation, the bowl is empty before he can blink. Techno licks his lips, the lingering taste overly saccharine and unpleasant. He's nauseous again.
"What is the point?" he asks.
The stranger continues to smile, the stretch of their skin almost obscene in nature. Techno feels like there's a joke he's not in on. He doesn't like the feeling much. "People know about you, since you're so powerful. They respect you. Or they fear you."
"Mostly the second one," Techno says.
"So then, how would they feel about the one who manages to beat you?"
Techno frowns at that. The reasoning doesn't make a lot of sense to him, it's not like nobody has ever beaten him before. Rarely, sure, but it does happen. What this guy is talking about goes beyond a sparring match or a potato war though, this-
A slow blink has the world spinning around him. Techno rubs at his face, but it doesn't chase away the lightheadedness that settles over his brain like a fog. Chat jeers loudly, making fun of him for falling for the same trick twice in a row.
The stew shouldn't have tasted that sweet.
"Nobody is going to be impressed if you're snarling and biting like a mindless animal the whole time. That's what the training is for," the stranger says. They kneel before him once more, though this time they only reach out to cup his cheek gently. Techno looks up at them, movement lethargic due to the drugs. "Anybody could get the blood god to kneel if they punch him down hard enough. But only I will make you bow your head voluntarily."