#unfridging fanonQ!Techno respectfully

[alienwritestoo]

Legend Reborn

Technoblade is a legend on the QSMP. His deeds are ballads sung in the festive streets of the favela, chronicle of dedication inspiring the monumental stretch of potatoes growing on the wall and tales of hard-won battles uplifting the fight against the worst government known yet.

Sometimes, an unusually large Cucurucho can be found at the shrine dedicated to his memory, fingering a singular emerald earring.

The crown before him gleamed with familiar, unfulfilled purpose.

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Technoblade left the DSMP when he deemed Dream’s oppressive server free from the tyranny of governments, forever meant to be more than the sums of suppressive never meant to bes and unfinished symphonies. The tundra that once shielded armies of dogs and withers soon swarmed with the metaphorical winds of adventure, melting the cold heart he developed to survive on this server with its dangerous consequences, urging him onward to his next quest.

The piglin hybrid felt comfortable moving on, like his older brother had, towards an inexplicable future. He trusted his old man Philza to look after anyone who still stayed on the server, especially those who would no longer accept his help.

Philza stood with Steve at the gate to see him off, waving softly while his eyes burned with pride and unshed tears. The older warrior promised himself that he would make the old immortal never worry about one of his sons ever again, the only remaining to make it through the harrowing experience of DSMP mostly unscathed. His father surely trusted him, and only him, to survive despite all the world could throw at him. He would not let him down.

His fur prickled as he followed the warm breeze to warmer climates, ripping away government after government in his path onwards to an unknown ultimate prize. The governments there quickly realized he was coming, hastily setting up assassinations and armies to disway him. Yet Techno persisted, striding unceremoniously into rebellious camps who quickly accepted his tutelage to overthrow sure tyranny. It was a walk in the park after the annoyance it had been L’Manberg, that had been backed by an mask-cladded Admin until it miraculously switched to his side.And besides, even if Tubbo had been a weak president, the sting of Tommy betraying him stung like nothing else. 

The king of Antarctica wasn’t meant to get so close to the desert, but Technoblade would make the world realize otherwise. His quest lay south, and then someday he could retire to own a farm. 

In his uncomfortable state, he didn’t see it coming that he would be cowardly captured on an assuming night in a desert village near the sea. The anarchist had no time to react, huffing with outraged growls towards an unseeing assailant who didn’t react to a single hit from him as his humble lodgings wavered in his vision. Another Admin had taken interest in him, not even bothering to show its face as it continued to invisibly rain down potions of harming with impassioned precision. He continued to struggle for agonizing minutes with blood pouring out of his mouth and staining his tusks.

Technoblade’s face paled at the predicament he was in as he finally collapsed, lumbering form falling to his knees as his kidnapper removed the crown from his head like they were taking a toy from a toddler.

The piglin hybrid later woke to a cell of stark, lifeless quartz, with nothing but an orange jumpsuit to his name. Soon after, he lost himself to a haze of interrogations and treatments that turned him into something else, a creature with red eyes that eventually passed all the tests except-

He could never manage to speak, in support nor against the federation. It was the only rebellion he had left, as a duck creature handed him a clipboard and gave him his first task.

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Philza knew there were multiple Cucuruchos. The immortal had seen Chayanne slink back into the bunker from “night school” enough times, and glimpsed more than one of the white-furred creatures poking into the islanders’ business. Not the career path he would’ve encouraged for his adventurous egg, but the once-famed Angel of Death knew they had little choice in the matter.

Other than the times he saw Cucurucho-Chayanne, there was just one other that bothered him deep down.

One of the newer Cucuruchos was especially odd in comparison to the rest. The creature appeared when Luzu logged on with his binary code messages that oozed of sudden warnings, lumbering behind a pair of regular Cucuruchos with glinting red eyes. It towered over its cousins with muscle, wielding axes and crossbows rather than the classic gun. Tubbo, who was newer to the island but had managed to typically outmaneuver the creatures, had frozen inexplicably at the fireworks lining the crossbows it handled with ease.

Etoiles had gaped when the creature had joined the battle with an arsenal of old school vanilla weapons against three fake eggs, and carried.

“What the fuck?” Cellbit exclaimed as he examined the photo Pomme had taken of the newer creature. The detective looked like he wanted to drink vodka at its looming presence in PVP, only calming with Roier’s reassuring palm on his shoulder.

“No mames!” Roier shook his head in agreement. “This fucking sucks, man.”

“Why are there more of them?” Baghera questioned with a frown. “Why would they need one so big? Is it an intimidation tactic?”

Philza let the conversations wash over him as the order deliberated over what the new creature’s presence meant. The crow hybrid held a photograph in his hand, fingering the emerald earring it wore on its ear. It was the same exact style to his, a piece of jewelry that had been a mystery to him since his arrival to the island.

The old immortal remembered much of his past in comparison to the rest of the islanders. He was the only one to willingly volunteer, able to bargain with the foreboding federation to retain most of his memories.

Philza didn’t remember what he gave up, but he had his suspicions when his memories tried to tell him he never had any family. His heart pulsed with a heart thrumming with power his soul knew had been gifted, making him never age as long as he didn't die in combat. When he first joined the island, the man found a bag of blue dye tied together with a fancy ribbon and a note saying “calm yourself, have some blue”. None of these items had an explanation, especially the emerald earring that swung on his ear-

Until now. 

“Does he want to die?” Etoiles inserted as the group gravitated around the corpse of one of the codes, pulling Philza out of his thoughts. “I can give it the gift death if Cucurucho doesn’t want to live anymore?” 

His throat hissed automatically, eyes flashing as his mind keys in on the emerald the large creature wore somehow just right.

Multiple pairs of eyes whip over to him. “Woah there, what was that Philza?” Badboyhalo asked.

Philza blinked when he realized he had reacted instinctively to a threat against flock. He swallowed uselessly to calm himself down, angry clicks echoing up into the air instead. Unable to speak, he jerked his head towards the photograph and pointed a sharped clawed hand towards the creature.

“Oh shit guys.” Jaiden spoke up, a fellow bird hybrid. “Philza’s bird instincts think that the new Cucurucho is a part of his flock. Better not hurt the guy until we actually know he’s bad, if we don’t want the case of an angry crow hybrid on our hands.”

“If that’s the case, Maybe we shouldn’t attempt to attack or harm this Cucurucho until we know more about him.” Maximus concluded, looking at Cellbit who looked very tense but gave a reluctant nod.

The group eventually decided to only observe the new federation creature. The crow hybrid’s hackles raised when he noticed Cellbit, Etoiles, and Baghera didn’t explicitly agree to not harm it, but life soon went back to normal for a few weeks when nothing unusual happened. 

They noticed the creature had an weirdly normal and routine schedule, easily trackable in how it simply sparred in the middle of the battle dome every morning and built for the Federation in the afternoons following a checklist it regularly squinted at. Philza had to shove down the urge to hand it a pair of glasses when he occasionally approached on Cellbit's behalf to see its tasklist. It never tried to spy or speak to them, content to swing its archaic sword at practice dummies and occasionally amuse the eager Etoiles. 

“It's the best monster I’ve ever fought, Philza!” Etolies praised highly one day as they ran into each other at the front of what used to be Las Sacapuntas. “Battling with him is more interesting than anything else on the island except spending time with Pomme because she is my daughter and therefore automatically makes her the best thing to ever happen to anyone and I will kill anyone who says otherwise.” The French player grinned with teeth.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Philza laughed genuinely at his friend's strange humor, watching the warrior leave as quickly as he came with a fond shake to his head before he teleported to his own base on top of the wall.

That evening, Philza blinked when he spotted the creature outside of schedule by Techno’s shrine, wiping the dirt from his eyes as he stood up from his potato farm.

The hulking Cucurucho looked up from his vigil, turning away from where a crown sat in display on an armor stand. The creature's eyes glinted with a dark red color that strangely made him feel calm and collected.

“Hey mate.” Philza greeted him, wiping the dirt from his hands with spider silk. “Do you know who that is?”

The creature nodded curtly, not speaking nor turning to write in a book.

“He was one of my best friends.” The crow hybrid stipulated as he approached. “A great warrior, much like yourself.” He stood next to the creature. “Mostly I just know him as Techno, and as one of the most compassionate people I ever knew." He craned his head up, gauging the creature's interest in their conversation. "You know why?”

The hulking mass cocked his head, grunting. Philza took that as encouragement to continue.

“Hypixel skyblock was terribly going through a famine before Techno made the potato war happen. You see Cucurucho, even though they're the top server and could've simply asked for help, not many people knew Hypixel actually had food shortages because the number one server doesn’t like people knowing they fucked up." He snorts. "So naturally, my friend took it upon himself to solve the food problem for them. Techno never liked people starving, my so-” He choked, panicking at the unconscious wording. “...Friend.”

The creature reaches towards Philza’s emerald earring with a strange chuff. The old man’s mind translates it reflexively to mean question, curiosity. 

“I don’t know what it is, mate.” Philza admitted. “Do you know where you got yours?” For a split second he wonders if the creature stole it, but the idea drains away as the creature shakes his head with an air of confusion.

Cucurucho took a few steps back. He looked at the shrine with an unreadable expression, but his red eyes were so expressive. 

“I know this is weird to ask, since you're a federation worker and all but… do I know you?” Philza couldn’t help himself. Why does his instincts see this Cucurucho, out of all of them wandering the server, as his son? 

Cucurucho huffed, turning away from him unceremoniously before hopping off the edge of the wall. 

Philza leaned back on his hoe in the potato farm for support, stopping himself from following with a panic similar to one of his eggs in danger. The old immortal wanted to talk to it again soon, chest winding up with longing to connect to this unknown creature. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Missa called in the distance from the house, likely serving something Chayanne cooked up for his family of four. Philza blinked back unexpected tears when he realized it was potato night, the memories of inexplicable pink fur and comforting chuffs raw against his chest, before collecting himself to have a quiet evening with his anticipating two eggs and husband.

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