LOSING GAME ➳ dreamwastaken

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥

Technoblade rhythmically thumped his fingers against the cold surface of the wooden coffee table. How could he be so foolish as to trust Dream?

He, Technoblade, had been running across the fields on the outskirts L'Manberg, heading for the Community Portal to escape when he heard someone call his name from afar. Looking aside, his eyes examining his surroundings in search of the source of the voice, he spotted Dream tucked within the entrance of a cave, beckoning him over. Techno wasn't sure what he was thinking. Evidently, he wasn't thinking at all, because he followed Dream without question.

He was let into an abandoned room, lined with chests and displaying a sign that read: Final Control Room. Somehow, Dream had rescued Carl and ushered him inside the cave, because the horse was waiting there when Techno arrived. A seemingly endless tunnel stretched into staunch darkness and Dream gestured for Techno to take Carl and travel through the eerie tunnel.

"Go down," Dream hissed, jabbing his finger towards the underpass.

Technoblade had no way of knowing where this tunnel led—for all he knew, Dream was baiting him right into a trap, but Techno pushed that thought aside, for he had more important things to worry about in that moment than his own safety.

"Rev," Techno said, his voice sounding oddly fragile. "I can't leave Rev—"

"I've got her, just go."

Technoblade noticed how, when he said Reverie's name, the small pieces of Dream's face that were visible beneath his ceramic mask tensed and paled. Without another word, Dream turned and exited the cave, unsheathing his Netherite sword as he went.

Though he was reluctant, Techno decided that he didn't have much of a choice but to trust Dream. Ensuring that Carl's saddle was properly secure, Techno swung his leg over the horse's back and mounted, but not before his escape was thwarted by none other than Quackity himself.

As he recalled the very recent memory from his seat in the wooden chair by the fireless hearth, Techno slammed his fist against the coffee table. He had taken an oath of peace, sworn off violence, but because of one misdemeanor, Techno had left Quackity laying, presumably dead, in a growing puddle of his own blood. Not only this, but it would only be by immense fortune that Reverie would return home safe and unscathed. Techno had done the math multiple times as he sat there awaiting Reverie's return, wallowing in his own regret and he conflicted that she should have been home a long time ago.

"I'm sure she's fine, Techno," Tommy assured him as he fixed both himself and his brother some coffee. "Really, she'll be back any minute—you'll see."

But Tommy didn't understand. Even without the aid of a horse to speed up her journey, Reverie should still have been back by now. The sun was setting on the horizon, but Techno was too anxious, too sullen to appreciate the flurry of beautiful colours.

Every time Carl whinnied outside, Techno would rush to the window with the hopes that the horse was greeting an approaching Reverie and, although each time that was not the case, Techno still found himself throwing the window shutter open again upon hearing Carl's excited snort.

By the grace of a miracle, she staggered out of the woods, clutching her ribs to ease the pain of what may have been either an injury or a stitch, her sword ploughing through the deep snow. Her skin was niveous even against the white canvas behind her, and her sleeves were torn from branches and swipes of swords.

Reverie herself was simply exhausted, unlike Technoblade who had been infused with a newfound burst of energy upon seeing her. Truth be told, Reverie wasn't sure she could let go of her sword even if she wanted to. Her fingers were frozen stiff, clutching the ornate hilt, and the edges of her vision were blurred with fatigue.