Work Text:
The life of a king is one filled with difficult decisions.
Not only does Techno have the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders, but also thousands of lives that rest in his hands.
He knew that being king would be far from easy, knew that there would be tough call after tough call that he had to make.
He didn’t realize though that one of the most difficult tasks would be deciding who to trust.
Because everyone wants something, especially from a king, one who could perhaps grant them untold riches if only they could gain his trust.
Countless people have tried, but only one has managed to gain his trust: Ranboo, a kid that Techno found in a tough spot and helped get back on their feet again, and now they’re his most trusted advisor despite only being sixteen years old.
He’s perfectly content to keep everyone but Ranboo at arm’s length, because not only will that protect his kingdom, but his heart as well.
Somehow though, that changes when a man with wings dark as the night itself breaks down Techno’s walls and finds a place to settle in the king’s heart.
“Techno!” Ranboo shouts as they come barreling into the throne room, and Techno’s thankful that only a few guards are around right now to hear the teen use a nickname instead of his proper title. “We have a big problem!”
“Great, that’s what I love hearin’,” Techno sarcastically says, momentarily taking off his crown to drag a hand through his hair, messing up his braid, but he can’t bring himself to care. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a carriage coming from Essempi right now, they’ll be here in a few minutes,” Ranboo informs him, the enderman hybrid’s words causing Techno to groan.
While wishing that he could just kill Dream and be done with the annoying king, Techno dismissively says, “I don’ care what he wants, send ‘em away.”
“I…” Ranboo starts to say, but then they stop, wringing their hands nervously together, because even after all the times that Techno has said he wants Ranboo’s honest opinion, they still have trouble directly contradicting the king.
But Techno just gives them a gentle smile and asks, “Whatcha thinkin’?”
After taking a deep breath to steel themself, Ranboo bites the bullet and says, “I don’t think we should send them away. It’s not like the other carriages we’ve had. There’s still some guards, but they’ve also got a man with wings.”
And Techno perks up at that, sitting more upright on his throne as he encourages, “Go on…”
“The messenger who delivered this news told me that the winged man was kneeling on the floor of the carriage rather than sitting in the seats like the 3 guards with him,” Ranboo shares, their words causing a feeling of dread to start building in Techno’s stomach. “He also had chains on his wrists and a collar around his neck, so either he’s some kind of prisoner of war or… he’s a slave.”
Techno full-blown growls at that, a deep, angry snarl, because the piglin has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t tolerate slavery of any form, so how dare Dream bring one to his kingdom.
“Cancel all my meetings for today and anything else there is,” Techno commands through gritted teeth, because he’s gotta deal with this now, no way is he sending this winged guy back to whatever hell he might’ve come from.
While nodding their head in acknowledgment, Ranboo makes their way toward the door to inform the others about the change in plans for the day.
Before they can leave though, Techno calls out to them with a soft, “Come back you’re done, okay, Boo? Think I might need ya here.”
With a fond smile, Ranboo promises, “Of course, I’ll be back before they even reach the castle.”
After murmuring a thanks to the teen, Techno is left alone, the only ones around now being the guards stationed along the wall by the door, but they’re so silent and unmoving that they might as well not even be there.
“I’m gonna kill Dream if he really did this,” Techno murmurs to himself, already imagining all the ways he’ll make the king pay if he dared not only enslave a winged hybrid, but then bring the man into Techno’s own land.
Time passes quickly as Techno fantasizes about tearing Dream limb from limb, and soon Ranboo is back, their arrival being marked by soft knocking on the door to the throne room before they open it and come inside.
“They’ll be here in about 2 minutes,” Ranboo wastes no time for greetings, simply informing Techno of the impending carriage’s arrival time.
As he sighs heavily, Techno can’t help but ask, “Can you remind me how bad it would be if I killed these guys?”
With a slight smile, Ranboo rolls their eyes before honestly saying, “Killing Dream’s men would give him every right to declare war on us, which could lead to numerous citizens dying on both sides, not to mention all those who would die in battle.”
And all Techno does is sigh again, really wishing that he could just do it regardless, but he won’t put his people in unnecessary danger like that.
The next couple minutes pass by quickly, and then suddenly there’s a knock on the throne room’s entrance, one of his guards announcing that there’s a delegation here on behalf of King Dream.
Even though he really, really doesn’t want to, he tells them to come inside.
When the door opens, two of Dream’s guards enter first, the hideous lime-green uniforms just as disgustingly eye-catching as usual.
But Techno’s gaze just glances at them before moving away, instead trying to see what’s behind them, because no doubt is it the winged man even if Techno can’t see him.
That changes though when, upon entering the middle of the room, the two guards in front step to the sides, something that should’ve given him full view of the man, but Techno doesn’t get a very good look at him.
The third guard who had been standing behind the winged man kicks the back of the hybrid’s legs, sending him down onto his knees, Techno having to hold back a sympathetic wince at the loud crack they make when hitting the polished quartz floors.
Without having to be told, the winged man leans forward, pressing his chained hands to the ground out in front of him, then resting his forehead on the floor in a bow that makes Techno’s skin crawl, especially since it gives him full view of the harsh collar that’s now visible on the back of the man’s neck.
And it only gets worse when one of the guards places his foot on the man’s back, his dirty shoe pressing into the space in between where the man’s wings are, something that causes him to flinch, but he doesn’t move otherwise.
Only when one of them speaks does Techno finally tear his gaze away from the winged man, the churning in his stomach growing worse when he hears their words.
“On behalf of King Dream of Essempi, we are here to offer you a gift,” One of the guards says as he bows slightly in respect, the other two following suit. “This is the Angel of Death, known for being able to win any battle. It has even defeated entire armies without help.”
Techno doesn’t say anything, the king just glancing at the disheveled form on the ground as he tries to picture the man killing entire armies, because surely this is some kind of sick joke, right?
Mistaking his gaze for interest, the one behind the winged man chimes in, digging his foot a little deeper and eliciting a small whine from the man as he asks, “It’s quite special, isn’t it? It’ll serve you well, Your Majesty, especially since we heard of your desires for further expansion.”
And oh.
Oh, now this whole thing makes sense.
Dream learned that Techno was planning on going to war with some neighboring nations soon and, in order to protect himself, he’s sending a gift in the form of a slave who--supposedly at least--could take down an entire army alone.
Even though it pains him to say the words, Techno asks, “And what would I need to do in exchange for this generous gift?”
With a too-wide smile, eager that Techno seems to be agreeing, the guard who spoke first excitedly says, “Your Majesty, King Dream doesn’t ask for much. All he wants is a written agreement of allyship and that, during your upcoming conquest, you won’t take your fights onto any of Essempi’s land.”
Techno can’t say he’s surprised by those words, but he doesn’t like them, not one bit.
He might have to agree anyway though, for the winged man’s sake.
“And if I refuse?” Techno asks, because he has to know what life will be like for the man if he’s not in Techno’s care. “What happens to the gift you brought?”
With a sinister smile, the guard takes his foot off of the winged man’s back, instead crouching down and beginning to pet one of his wings while saying, “A pretty little birdie like this one? I’m sure we could find some other use for it. King Dream has no use for a weapon anymore, but it could be good for other things too.”
The winged man shudders violently at both those words and the greasy hand on his wing, and the guard just laughs at his discomfort, the sight making Techno feel like he’s gonna be sick.
But he holds it together, just like he always does.
Because being a king is all about making tough decisions, minimizing casualties, and putting aside your own pride when needed.
So, even though he hates Dream with a burning passion, Techno agrees to be allies and signs the agreement with his official seal, because that’s the only way to save the winged man without creating an all-out war.
When everything’s all said and done, Dream’s guards bow to him one more time, then make their leave.
Once they’re gone, they’re replaced by three of Techno’s own guards, and normally he would send them away, but there’s validity in being wary of this so-called Angel of Death.
Techno knows that he should address the winged man, should assure him that he’s safe now that Techno is the one who holds custody of his slave papers, but he can’t, not just yet.
So he takes a few moments to collect himself, then turns toward Ranboo, gently asking the teen, “You okay? It’s alright if you wanna leave.”
“N-No, I’m alright,” They shakily say, and while Techno knows they’re certainly not alright, he doesn’t push, allowing Ranboo to continue staying in here.
Techno smiles encouragingly at Ranboo, getting a shy one in return, and that’s what gives the king the strength to stand and approach the winged man.
His guards protest him getting so close, but Techno waves them off, knowing that they’ll never get anywhere if he just leaves the man chained and bowing like he is now.
“Hey there,” Techno murmurs as he crouches in front of the man, and other than a flinch at their proximity, he doesn’t acknowledge Techno being close enough to touch him. “Can you sit up for me? I’d like ya to stop bowin’.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, the man rises so that he’s on his knees, placing his scarred, shaking hands on his thighs and tucking his wings in close as he stares at the ground.
“Good, that’s really good,” Techno praises, feeling terribly overwhelmed by this, but he doesn’t let it show, knowing that he needs to stay calm and un-threatening for this man. “Think you can look at me now?”
The man raises his head, but just ever so slightly, now looking at Techno’s boots instead of the floor, and that’s not much better, but at least the man’s trying.
And Techno’s heart aches for him, because he’s so scared that, even after being directly told to look at him, he can’t manage to look any higher than his shoes.
“Okay, so, here’s how this is gonna go-” Techno starts to say in that same soothing tone, but he’s interrupted by several things happening all at once.
One minute the winged man is just sitting there, still staring at his boots.
Then he’s suddenly lunging toward Techno.
Techno raises his arms to protect his face from the man’s attack, but no blow comes.
Instead, the dagger that was hidden in his boot for emergencies is now in the winged man’s hands.
Rather than stabbing Techno though, the winged man leaps to his feet, pressing the dagger against his own throat, just above where the metal of his collar hugs his neck, his gaze frantic as he looks around the room.
Because, instead of passively watching the scene unfold, all five of his guards are now holding crossbows, each one of them trained on the winged man, poised to kill.
Ever so slowly, Techno rises to his feet, raising his hands in surrender when a pair of terrified blue eyes land on him, the dagger drawing a bit of blood from where he presses it to his own throat in a white-knuckled grip.
While staring intently at Techno, the winged man speaks for the first time, his voice a broken, garbled mess as he commands, “Call off your guards or I’ll fucking do it.”
“Easy there,” Techno gently placates, but the man isn’t looking at him, instead his eyes are darting around from guard to guard, his hands shaking so badly that Techno’s worried he’s gonna seriously hurt himself. “They’re not gonna hurt you.”
“Then call them off!” He shouts as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and Techno’s close enough to see the tears that are starting to slip down his cheeks. “Tell them to drop their fucking weapons!”
And Techno knows that his guards won’t shoot, not unless he gives the order, but the winged man doesn’t know that.
So Techno looks away from the winged man to address his guards, commanding them to unload the crossbows and set them on the ground.
A couple of them try to protest, but a pointed look from their king is all it takes for them to comply.
Once there’s no longer any weapons pointed at him, the winged man orders, “Tell them to leave the room.”
“Why do you want them gone?” Techno asks, because even though he knows he can protect himself against virtually any threat, this guy is desperate, and that makes him dangerous.
“Just fucking do it!” The man demands, his voice a little less panicked than before, but that’s not really saying much, especially when he tilts his chin up and presses the dagger against his jugular.
So Techno does, he tells the guards and Ranboo to leave, but the winged man stops him by firmly saying, “The kid stays. I just want the guards gone.”
And Techno doesn’t like that one bit, doesn’t want Ranboo anywhere near this dangerous man, but he doesn’t protest, worried that doing so might set the man off and cause him to do something he’ll regret.
Once all the guards are gone--although Techno’s sensitive piglin ears can hear their hushed and worried conversation just outside the door--the king patiently says, “Alright, they’re gone. Just you, me, and Ranboo here. You gonna try and kill us now?”
The winged man barks out a harsh, bitter laugh at that, thankfully moving the dagger away slightly so he doesn’t cut open his own throat, his words somber and sarcastic as he asks, “You think I’d try and kill King Technoblade? I don’t have a fucking death wish.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Techno says back, because the guy sure seemed like he wasn’t too scared of dying a few moments ago. “Kinda weird puttin’ a dagger to your throat if you wanna live.”
With a wry smile, Phil finally moves the dagger completely away from his throat and says, “Well either it was putting the dagger to your throat or mine, and I knew one of those would get me killed instantly.”
And Techno can’t help but hum thoughtfully at that, because the guy’s right.
While Techno thought the man was staring at his boots out of fear, he must’ve been looking at the dagger and calculating how he could use it without getting killed.
“You’re smart,” Techno praises, and it’s not often that someone impresses him, but he’s feeling quite intrigued by this man. “So what’s the plan now?”
“I-I don’t know,” The man sincerely murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle escaping him as he continues, “I really didn’t think I’d make it this far.”
“Well, how about this?” Techno asks, noticing the way the winged man tenses, but he doesn’t draw any attention to it. “I could tell you a bit about where you are now and what’s gonna happen to you.”
“O-Okay,” He weakly agrees while staring down at the ground, his wings wrapping around himself like a shield, as if trying to protect himself from Techno’s words.
With a small smile, Techno informs him, “You’re now in my kingdom, the Antarctic Empire. I could tell you more, but I think Ranboo’s better suited for that.”
When he glances at the enderman hybrid, they seem startled by the sudden attention, but then a look of understanding passes over their features.
“Of course,” Ranboo says a bit shyly at first, but their words grow stronger as they continue, “Not only is the Antarctic Empire the only nation with a hybrid ruler, but it’s also become a safe haven for hybrids like you and me.”
Hesitantly, the winged man glances up at the kid and softly says, “That sounds nice.”
“It is,” Ranboo agrees, a smile tugging at their lips as they share, “That’s not even the best part though. Not only is it hybrid friendly, but it’s also 100 percent anti-slavery, enslaving humans or hybrids is strictly prohibited.”
“W-What?” The winged man asks as he jerks backward, his blue eyes wide as he glances between Ranboo and Techno, seeming like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
While taking over the conversation again, Techno confirms Ranboo’s words to be true, telling the man that, “The second that carriage crossed into my borders, you became a free man. Last thing to do is burn your slave papers that they gave me.”
“You… You’re serious?” He asks in a voice oh so filled with hope that it breaks Techno’s heart. “You really mean it? I… I’m free now?”
As he takes the papers and sets them on the ground, then steps back a few feet, Techno promises, “You are. See that fireplace over there? Go throw those papers into it.”
When the winged man makes no move to pick up the papers, Ranboo steps toward him and gently says, “I know this is all so overwhelming, but Techno’s telling the truth. I’ve been here before and it’s terrifying, but this really is a safe place.”
And that shocks the winged man so badly that he takes a step back, his eyes wide and searching as he looks at Ranboo a bit closer and asks them, “You’re a slave too?”
“I was,” Ranboo confirms, and then they pull down the collar of their shirt, revealing the star tattoo on their collarbone but, unlike any of the ones that Phil has seen before, the kid’s is filled in entirely, signifying that they’re free.
When the winged man doesn’t say anything to that, Techno gently adds on, “We’ve got a guy right here in the palace who fills those in, so we could do that now if you wanna.”
As tears slip freely down his cheeks, the winged man begs, “Pl-Please. I… Please.”
While wishing that he could reach out and hug the man, Techno gently says, “How about you burn those, then we’ll head on over there?”
The man’s only response is a jerky nod, his movements slow and cautious as he approaches the stack of papers on the ground, taking a few moments to read the contents and confirm that they really are that.
And then he makes his way toward the fireplace, furtively glancing over his shoulder to see if the king is watching him, but instead he’s softly talking to Ranboo about king stuff that Phil can’t bring himself to care about.
Instead, his sole attention is on the papers in his hands, on the way they writhe and shrivel up in the flames, his eyes wide as he watches the root of all his torment be eaten entirely by the fire.
Without conscious thought, Phil’s hand strays to the collar around his throat as he continues to watch the fire burn bright.
Because even if his papers are gone, he still isn’t free yet, not when he can feel the mark of ownership every time he swallows a bit too deeply, can feel the hum of electricity thrumming within the metal, ready to unleash agony upon him at the slightest press of a button.
But watching the papers burn does bring him great comfort, more than he’s felt in a long, long time.
Only when nothing of those papers remain does Phil turn back to the two, smiling shakily when he’s met with two beaming grins directed at him.
With his smile still in place, Techno beckons the man over with a wave while asking, “Would you mind tellin’ me your name? Kinda cringe to keep thinking of you as ‘the winged man’ in my head y’know.”
And Phil can’t help but release a huff of laughter at that, but there’s no amusement in his voice when he says, “You already know my name, it was on my papers.”
“What papers?” Techno asks with a smirk, his words causing Ranboo to giggle beside him. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about man. Do you see any papers, Boo?”
“Nope, no papers here,” Ranboo agrees in between giggles, winking at the winged man when his confused gaze turns to them.
But then he seems to understand what the two of them are doing, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as he shares, “I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil.”
“Nice to meet ya, Phil,” Techno happily says, relieved to not only be able to put a name to the man, but that this has gone really well.
Sure, the first few minutes were a total disaster, but now Phil knows he’s free, Techno knows the guy’s name, and really what more do they need?
Well, they do need to get that tattoo filled in and his chains off, which is why Techno asks, “Wanna go to our tattoo guy now? And we can get the chains and collar off ya too.”
“Y-Yeah, that sounds nice,” Phil hesitantly says as he approaches them, not quite trusting that this is real, but he really wants to, especially since he knows that Dream’s guards only had one copy of his slave papers, those papers that he just watched burn.
“Let’s go then,” Techno says as he begins making his way toward the door, calling out to the guards before opening it to let them know that everything is under control and that they’re coming out now.
When all three of them are out in the hallway, Phil can’t help but notice that the guards are once again armed, but they aren’t pointing their weapons at him, instead holding them loosely at their sides, just in case.
But Phil doesn’t plan on causing any more trouble, his gaze locked onto the ground below as he murmurs, “I’m sorry everyone. I-I didn’t mean to cause such a scene, I… was just scared. Wasn’t thinking right.”
“Hey, it’s okay, Phil,” Techno softly assures the man, and when Phil dares to glance up at him, it’s to see nothing but sincerity and kindness in his eyes.
And Phil can’t help but breathe out a heavy sigh of relief after hearing that, so much of the tension dropping away from his shoulders.
He’s certain that there still will be consequences for his little stunt, but it seems like, at least for now, he isn’t going to be punished, which Phil is incredibly grateful for.
He even manages another small smile, one that causes Techno to grin widely at him.
But those smiles fade when one of the guards grabs Techno’s attention by informing him that, “Before we came into the room to join you, Dream’s men gave us something. We weren’t sure what it was for, but they told us that you would need it.”
“What is it?” Techno cautiously asks, feeling a mix of both curiosity and dread, because he doesn’t trust Dream or his men, not one bit.
When the guard pulls a little remote out of his pocket, Techno can’t help but feel terribly confused, because why would they be given this?
Before Techno can ask the guard what he thinks it’s for, there’s a sudden commotion to his right that steals away his attention, his heart beating much faster in his chest when he takes in the scene that unfolded without him realizing it.
Moments ago, Phil had been standing there silently, his hands nervously fiddling with his chains as they spoke, but he seemed fine.
What’s happening right now is anything but fine though.
Because Phil’s chains are now wrapped around the neck of one of his guards, the harsh metal cutting off the man’s airway as his fingers scrabble at the chains uselessly, the winged man’s strength far more powerful than Techno would’ve expected after all his mistreatment.
“Phil,” Techno says the name with urgency, and the winged man flinches, but he doesn’t look at the king, his gaze focused on the three guards who are pointing crossbows at him but not daring to fire in case they hit their friend. “If he dies, so do you. My guards will kill you if you do this.”
After hearing that, Phil relaxes his grip, still keeping his chains around the guard’s throat, but he’s no longer actively cutting off his airway, allowing the guard to gasp in broken, wheezing breaths.
“What are you doing?” Techno harshly questions as Phil finally looks at him, and the king loathes the way some of the betrayal he feels leaks into his voice. “You’re free now, Phil, you don’t have to do this.”
He really thought that Phil believed him when he said that he wouldn’t hurt the winged man, believed him when he said that he was free now, but he must not have if he’s attacking one of his guards.
And while Techno is all for helping those who need it, these guards have been with him for years, have been keeping him safe for years, he’s not gonna let one of their lives be thrown away because of Phil.
“Not with this fucking collar on I’m not,” Phil spits with venom in his voice, glaring daggers at Techno as he speaks, but some of his resolve fizzles out as he looks at the remote one of the guards hold.
Despite being furious with the winged man right now, he doesn’t discount Phil’s words, doesn’t write him off as someone who’s lashing out simply because he’s powerful enough to do so.
He was fine just a few moments ago, so what happened?
What changed to make Phil attack one of his guards for seemingly no reason?
And then it hits him.
The remote.
The remote that Phil keeps staring at, and past the tough facade that the man is trying to put on, Techno can see the fear.
Things start to click into place with sickening clarity, the remote, the way Phil’s gaze is locked on it, the comment he made about his collar.
While turning his gaze to the guard beside him, Techno demands, “Give me the remote. Now.”
Though they seem confused, his guards know better than to argue against a direct order from him during times of distress, so he hands Techno the remote with only a little hesitation.
If Techno didn’t have such sensitive hearing, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the way Phil’s breath hitches in fear once the remote is in his hand.
With slow, telegraphed movements, Techno bends down and sets the remote on the ground, Phil’s gaze on his every move feeling like a physical weight to the king, but he takes it in stride, certain that this is what caused everything to go so wrong.
“Watch,” is all Techno says.
Then he pulls out his sword, raising the netherite blade up high before slamming it down where the remote is.
He does it again.
And again.
And again.
And again, until the remote is nothing but a pile of rubble, an unrecognizable mess that can never hurt Phil again.
For the first time since wearing this collar, Phil no longer feels the constant thrum of electricity against his throat, can no longer feel the warning buzz that each and every mistake will lead to thousands of bolts of lightning coursing through his veins.
His collar doesn’t work anymore.
Techno broke it.
The man who promised he was free, who let Phil burn his papers, and has now rendered his collar useless.
The man whose guard he just attacked, almost killed.
What has he done…
Shaking from the weight of his actions, from the knowledge that he's ruined Techno's kindness, Phil releases the guard.
Immediately, Phil raises his chained, trembling hands in surrender, a pathetic little keen escaping him as he waits for the pain of a crossbow bolt piercing his skin, because now there’s nothing preventing them from killing him.
Instead of being shot though, Techno approaches him, and for the first time Phil realizes just how large the man is, how he could snap Phil like a twig and he’s coming closer now and his sword is still in his hand and he's going to kill him-
Phil knows that he should just stand here and take it, that he should accept his fate with what little dignity he has left, but he can’t.
He doesn’t wanna die…
So Phil collapses to his knees the second Techno is within arm’s reach, his shaking hands gripping tightly to the man’s pants as he presses his forehead to the king’s boots.
And then he begs.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I’ll be good I swear I’ll never hurt anyone again I'm sorry please I’ll behave please I don’t wanna die-”
When a hand touches the back of his head, Phil’s words die out, instead replaced by a loud, distressed keen, and in any other situation Phil would be mortified of making such a sound, but he’s so fucking scared.
He can’t help but sob as he’s pulled upright, the winged man squeezing his eyes shut tightly as tears stream down his face, as petrified chirps escape him in between the sobs that wrack his body.
Phil expects to feel a sword ram through him at any second, because even though he begged and pleaded for his life, he knows that he’s proved that he’s more trouble than he’s worth, that he can’t be trusted not to attack others when he gets the slightest bit scared.
Instead of the pain of a blade, he feels hands on his back, and another distressed keen escapes him, because this is so much worse, the king is going to destroy his wings and rip out his feathers and only when he’s lying in a pool of his bloody feathers will he be granted the mercy of death-
And then he’s pulled against a strong, broad chest, his intense panic clearing enough that he hears Techno’s gentle murmuring of, “Shhhhh, Phil, shhh, I’m not gonna hurt ya. You’re safe, I promise. Not doin’ anythin’ to ya.”
Phil doesn’t believe him, not for a single second, but he’s exhausted, the kind of weariness of spending day after day fighting just to survive, not knowing if each one could be your last.
So he slumps in Techno’s embrace, his panicked chirps and sobs dying down until he’s only sniffling every so often, his still-shaking hands coming up to clutch at Techno’s shirt.
That’s how time passes for a while, Techno just holding the winged man close and gently shushing him when the occasional whimper escapes him as his panic tries to take hold once more.
When he finally feels more collected, Phil softly and sincerely apologizes, “Your Majesty, I’m so sorry-”
“Hey, none of that,” Techno gently chastises him, and despite his soft tone, it pulls a fearful whine from Phil. “You’re okay, promise. I can’t even imagine how scary this must be for ya.”
Phil opens his mouth to lie, to say that he’s fine, that he’s used to this.
Instead what comes out is a weak little: “I’m so tired.”
“Rest now, I’ve got you,” Techno promises, and while Phil doesn’t believe him, he finds his eyes slipping shut of their own accord.
When he feels a hand on his shoulder though, Phil pulls back from Techno’s chest and peers up at Ranboo with half-open eyes.
While giving Phil’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, Ranboo smiles softly and repeats the words that Techno told them when they first arrived, “Welcome to the Antarctic Empire. You’re free now.”
Techno holds Phil a bit tighter after hearing that, the king looking at Ranboo and giving them a wide smile, because he remembers those words too.
And that smile is the last thing Phil sees as he falls asleep in the Antarctic Empire, his new home.
