You're My Twin

Three: Voices

Trigger Warning: blood, panic, injury, fainting, near death

The art isn't mine! I found it on Pinterest and thought it looked cool so I used it 

--------

Technoblade's Void was chaotic beyond relief. The constant screaming of the Voices gave the young god major headaches, which, against popular belief, immortals could get too. These screams were the voices of thousands of unnamed people, possibly those of the dead; being the son of Death herself, Techno considered this a high probability. Technoblade listened as the Voices demanded blood, war, sacrifice, fire, and justice all day, every day, which was very tiring and annoyed him quite a lot.

It was because of these Voices that he almost killed his brother.

It all began on a cloudy summer day near the beginning of August. Tommy and Toby had put up a fight going to bed the previous night, wearing their mother down to the extent that she wanted to sleep through the next week. Techno and Wilbur did what they could for her but were eventually sent outside by their father.

"I hope Mum's okay," Wil said worriedly as he tuned his guitar. He was sitting on the back porch with Techno, trying to play quietly so he wouldn't disturb his parents.

"I don't see a reason to worry, honestly." Techno was whittling what looked like a potato out of spruce wood from the tree he had cut down with Philza the week before. "She's just tired. It's not like she's going to die or anything."

Wil sighed. "I know. I just can't help it. I hate being in situations where I can't do anything, y'know?"

"Maybe you could play for Toby and Tommy," Techno suggested. "I'm sure they'd like your playing."

"Maybe." The younger of the two plucked the final string on his guitar and cringed. "That is extremely out of tune," he muttered, fiddling with the tuning knobs at the end of the neck.

"You dropped it on the way downstairs. I'm not surprised that it's out of tune."

"Please don't be savage on purpose," Wil whined. "It's rather hurtful."

"Oh, you're fine." Techno lifted his wooden masterpiece for his twin to see. "Can you tell what this is, Wilbur?"

"It's a potato."

"Yes, but not just any potato. I am going to be the best potato farmer this world has ever seen, and when that day comes, I shall cover this wooden potato in gold and put it in a vault where no one but me can access it!"

"Okay, but . . . why potatoes?"

"Because someone who isn't me is number one in potato farming, and I must beat that child! My legacy will be left in the form of a massive potato farm!"

Wil stared at Technoblade, who had risen from his chair and put one foot on the table in front of him, almost toppling it.

"I need that table to put my music sheets on, Techno," Wil reminded him.

"There's a music stand in the basement."

"Can't you just move?"

"No."

Techno watched his twin go inside, rubbing his wooden potato with his thumb as he leaned on the table. He knew there was a possibility that said table would break, but he didn't care. He gazed at the woods surrounding his home, feeling as though they would someday belong to him as a birthright.

He heard one of the Voices whisper, Blood.

"No," he whispered back.

Blood.