Chapter Text
“Do I know you?” The egg asks. “You look familiar.”
Techno swallows back a lump in his throat. After all these years, the egg remembers him. Or rather, it remembers Sir Billiam. He did feed it so well, after all. It likely had the best meals of its life while it lived under his ancestor’s care, when his mansion stood on this very ground centuries ago.
Techno comes from a long line of piglins, all named Billiam. Sir Billiam was the furthest back his roots could be traced: an affluent but puny little man that couldn’t even do his own dirty work, instead relying on a butler to catch prey for the egg. He lived a long life and stayed devoted to the egg until his dying breath. The Billiam that followed ruled the skies. He headed armies that invaded island after island, stealing riches and slitting throats. It only took a few years of warfare till he had conquered every creature in his world, including a mystical black dragon on which he soared through the skies. However, battle became boring and he chose to spend his remaining days farming potatoes, which he also excelled in. The following Billiam was a ruthless gladiator with tactics to be feared. He never backed out of a fight and could make opponents tremble with a single pointed glare. Another Billiam down the line chose to conquer the Earth— first taking the Antarctic, then the rest of the globe. The empire he established was short-lived— ending with his power being forcefully and unfairly stripped from him— but legendary. Folk songs are still sung about him today. And Technoblade…
… he doesn’t know if he’s living up to the family name.
He too is named Billiam and he too is fierce and powerful, but that’s as far as the similarities go. At a young age, he rejected his inheritance and left the Antarctic Empire in search of something more. He saw how power had been misused to unjustly punish his predecessor. Technically there was no rule stating he couldn’t take over the world and a part of Techno still feels bitter about the treatment his ancestor received. It was his family’s history that sent him down the route of anarchism and towards a new land where he believed he could live in peace.
How wrong he was about that. While Techno knows he might not be as rich or noble as his ancestors, he’s certainly made a mark on the DreamSMP. The crater he created in L’Manberg was achieved through violent bloodshed, sacrifice and unimaginable effort. The hole goes all the way down to bedrock. It is his legacy. A symbol of Technoblade’s power.
And it can also easily be built over. Erased. Forgotten. All that trouble only to be an unremembered branch of his family tree.
Standing before the egg now, Techno has a feeling that he’s about to get into a lot more trouble than he ever was in when L’Manberg stood. He can feel energy and warmth radiating from the large red egg. It vibrates at a high frequency he’s not sure Puffy, Bad or Ranboo can hear.
You look familiar. Does he really look so similar to his ancestor Sir Billiam? Has nothing changed in the past few hundred years? Techno is not sure if the idea is comforting or not. On one hand, it feels good to have this physical connection to his ancestors. On the other, Sir Billiam was a snob.
Techno feels himself edge towards Ranboo. Despite his awkwardness, Ranboo is a comforting presence and someone he’s glad to have around. He is always very happy to accompany him on missions and even offers up expensive weapons and loot to him. He never hesitates to do it either. A part of Techno believes that if he demanded Ranboo hand over all of his armour and weapons, he would do it without a second thought.
Not like Techno would ever do that. He just thinks about it sometimes. The thought slips in there and pesters him for a while before eventually leaving and returning a few weeks later.
Techno looks at Ranboo nervously. If he tells him to run, will he do it? Follow the command as easily as any other he gives?
Techno briefly wonders what Ranboo’s ancestors were like. If they would be proud of who he was: an amnesiac teenager with a habit of sleepwalking and an alignment to anarchy. Techno thinks that if he were related to Ranboo, he would be very proud. He’s proud anyway.
“You know him.” The egg whispers. Its voice is ghostly, swimming among echoing cave sounds that make him shiver.
“Yeah, of course I know Ranboo.” Techno replies. He doesn’t miss how Bad’s eyes snap over to him excitedly.
“You know him, Billiam.”
He pauses for a moment. That name hasn’t been his since he was a young boy but… it makes his heart twinge. How odd.
Bad approaches Techno. Leaning down and clamping a hand on his shoulder, he blurts out, “The egg is talking to you? What is it saying?”
Bad looks almost maniacal. All colour has been drained from his body, leaving him a ghostly white version of himself. The only colour on him comes from the red light emitting from the egg. It illuminates the left side of his face. He still seems to be in a fit shape and stands tall over even Ranboo. The egg was able to corrupt someone as strong as him, huh?
“It, uh,” Techno’s eyes flicker up to Ranboo, then back to the egg, “said to subscribe to Technoblade.”
Something flashes behind Bad’s eyes and he recoils slightly. While he’s shown no anger yet, Techno has picked up on the restrained irritation he’s been experiencing in reaction to their cluelessness about the egg. To be fair, it is quite a hard concept to understand. An underground egg which was growing vines and slowly infecting the DreamSMP? It sounds like something out of a fiction novel.
“I’m sure it did, Techno. I’m sure it did.” Slyness trickles into Bad’s tone, “Because the egg wants you to succeed. The egg wants to help you succeed. You give the egg a little bit of love and it can give you all the power you need for world domination.”
“No offence to the egg or anything but I don’t think I need its help for any of that stuff- I’m doing pretty good on my own-”
“But imagine how different things would be with the egg on your side.” Bad puts his hands on Techno’s shoulder and leans down so they could look each other in the eye. “Techno, the Eggpire is calling your name.”
Egg..pire?
As he had felt the egg project its voice into his mind, he now feels it pushing images into his head. Images of… him? No, no- his ancestor. Billiam conquering the Antarctic, stabbing his flag into the snowy surface of the tallest mountain. Billiam soaring through the skies in an aeroplane, wearing a pair of aviator goggles and a wide grin. Billiam looking down upon the world he owned, chest swelling with pride. More flashing snapshots burst into his mind. Seeing his ancestor, knowing they look so similar with the same pointed ears and pink hair and piercing gaze… it fills Techno with a golden feeling of pride. There is also an accompanying need the colour of deep dark red.
“You can have this again. An empire.”
The red feeling of need spreads into Techno quickly, like a poison diluting into a chalice of water. He feels it entering his veins and coursing through his body. The egg can give him the connection to his ancestors he never had. They had all created such wonderful things— what had he done except destroy and marginally inconvenience?
“An empire?” Techno says between tight breaths. Ranboo is staring at him with wide eyes. He knows that the teenager will follow him to the end of the world, listening to his every order. It’s ancestral instinct, after all.
“What do you say, Technoblade?” Bad’s grin is devious. His forked tail coils and curls around the blood vines surrounding them. He holds one big hand out to Techno. “Does the egg have your love?”
Techno’s eyes flicker towards the egg. Red light pulsates from it. Is it just his imagination or have more vines grown since his arrival?
“Love is a big commitment. Let’s say… the egg has my loyalty.” Undying, ancestral loyalty.
Bad shakes his hand heartily. “That’s good enough!”