Chapter Text
We need to talk. Meet me at our usual place.
The note wasn’t signed but it didn’t need to be. Techno knew by the barely legible writing exactly who it was from and even if he hadn’t recognized the handwriting, there was only one person Techno knew that would leave such a cryptic message tacked to his front door. He walked to the edge of the porch, brown eyes trailing over the ground. Snow had fallen since this morning but there depressions that could’ve been footprints, though he didn’t know for sure if they were made by the person who left the note.
Techno carefully folded the note and stuck it inside his pocket. Then he opened the door to his cabin, reached inside and grabbed his cloak off the hook. He flung it around his shoulders before closing the door.
“Alright, man, you better still be there.”
Dream was there.
He was pacing – trying not to pace, really – and only stopped when he heard Techno approach. The mask was half-off, pushed back up onto his head, the hood of his cloak bunching up haphazardly. Everything about him screamed anxiety, fear, and Techno found his hand going to the hilt of his sword without thinking as he climbed the last bit of the hill.
“Hullo, Dream. So, I got your note,” said Techno. “Not gonna lie, I was a little surprised ‘cause I thought the whole point was we don’t see each other.”
Dream jerked slightly, staring at Techno for a moment. His eyes were red-rimmed, the bags beneath heavy and dark.
“Oh. Right.”
Techno frowned. Had he forgotten? It seemed like he had forgotten which was pretty shocking considering Dream had been the one to push for the plan while Techno had argued against it. What was the point of breaking Dream out if he wasn’t going to give him a place to stay? Everyone already knew that Techno was the one to get him out, what did it matter?
But Dream had been insistent. That’s what the favor was for, he had said. The plausible deniability of Techno only repaying what was owed, a public breaking of their alliance would be just the thing to draw away suspicion. And Dream said he’d make sure people looked anywhere else but at Techno. He hadn’t liked it, had hated sending Dream away in the state he was – it had taken so many healing potions for him to stand – and the only reason he had agreed in the end was because he was too worried about Ranboo’s last words.
Now…
“So what the heck is goin’ on, man?” he asked, softly, closing the gap between him and Dream. “Why the sudden switch up?”
“It’s not a switch up, it’s—It’s—I’m going to be bringing Ranboo back,” said Dream.
“Heh!?” The surprise was two-fold; if Dream had been intent on bringing Ranboo back, why wait so long, and why did Techno get the feeling that wasn’t what Dream was going to say? “I mean, great, let’s get on that but doesn’t seem like the kinda thing you need to have a secret meetin’ about.”
A shaky, wry smile crossed Dream’s face.
“Have you heard anything about Q—Q-Quackity’s new casino or whatever?”
The way Dream stuttered over Quackity’s name made Techno feel sick and he reached out to pat his arm. Dream stared at Techno’s hand, confused, before shaking his head, as if trying to rid himself of a distraction.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” said Techno, pulling his hand away. “He’s up to his usual tricks. Is that what this is about?”
“Kind of…”
“Dream, I know you love bein’ cryptic and everythin’ but you called me out here for a reason.” His voice was still gentle only a little more pointed, worry having a stranglehold on his chest. Dream seemed out of it, the way he had been sometimes, more than sometimes, in the prison. “What is it?”
“Him and some others – Sam, Tommy and Tubbo probably – they’re planning an execution,” he said with a laugh. “Mine. So, you know—”
There was an odd sense of relief that washed over Techno.
“Pfft, okay. So we just do the same thing we did for me. We’ll get you a totem and that’s it.”
But Dream’s face, partially hidden by the mask, was still grim. Grim and sad.
“No.”
If Dream had more to say, he didn’t get a chance. This time Techno grabbed his arm and didn’t let go.
“I don’t think I heard you right, what do you mean ‘no’, Dream? Do you have another plan?”
Dream didn’t try to get out of Techno’s grip. Almost the opposite; to Techno it felt like his whole body sagged, resting his weight onto Techno. He hadn’t put on any weight, not really, since the prison, Techno realized with dismay.
“Do you trust me?” Dream asked.
The question caught Techno off-guard. This whole encounter had made it feel as though the ground was moving beneath Techno’s hooves and he couldn’t catch his balance. Did he trust Dream? When Quackity had threatened his life, to hurt him to get Dream to give up the Revive Book, Techno had told Dream not to give in. Because he knew Dream would bring him back. Trusted him to do so. Squeezing his arm, Techno sighed.
“Yeah, Dream, I trust you.”
He did, even now.
It was Dream’s turn to sigh and for a moment he leaned against Techno’s shoulder before straightening and pulling away.
“I need you to—to make sure that Punz doesn’t do something stupid,” he said.
A pit had opened up in Techno’s stomach.
“Stupid like tryin’ to stop you from bein’ executed?”
“Yeah.”
Techno wanted to ask why. Why couldn’t they come up with a plan, some way to get Dream out of this? Why did it have to be this way? But he did trust Dream and there was a weariness in Dream’s voice that made Techno not want to question or push him.
“Alright,” said Techno. “Alright, man, I’ll make sure they don’t do anything stupid. It’s gonna be okay, Dream.”
Looking up at Techno, Dream smiled. It didn’t reach his green eyes.
“Ye—Yeah, it’s going to be fine. And I’ll, uh, I’ll take care of Ranboo.”
A sense of relief hit Techno, so sharp that all his previous concern was pushed into the back of his mind. He wanted to reach out and hug Dream, shake him and ask what had taken him so long, but he didn’t.
“Finally. I was wonderin’ what the heck was takin’ you so long there.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Dream said, softly.
Any other teasing or ribbing or complaining that Techno might have done – wanted to do – about how long it had taken him to decide to revive Ranboo was discarded right then and there. The concern was creeping back.
“D’you want me to help you? I don’t mind, alright, and I won’t even look at your necromancy book or whatever, promise.”
Dream shook his head, pulling the mask down to cover his face.
“Nah, I don’t—I don’t want you to get involved.” He turned, frayed cloak flaring out around him, and then stopped. “Thanks, Techno. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t, man.”
There was a soft noise, like Dream was going to argue but instead he pulled an ender pearl from one of the pouches hanging from his belt and tossed it. A second later, he was gone only to reappear on the far shore across from the hill they were standing on. There was such a strong sense of this having happened before, back when they first met, that Techno could almost hear the jokes he had made, could see Dream standing there, just like he was now. The Dream back then had been broad and strong and confident, so unlike the Dream who was disappearing into the mid-morning fog, a limp in his walk. He paused, turned, and waved in Techno’s direction.
Techno lifted his hand in return.
Later, he would wish he had asked why.
Later, he would wish he had done so many thing differently.
The god’s presence was overwhelming, stifling.
No matter how many times Dream had stood in his shadow, he had never gotten used to it. Even when the god was still, his green robe seemed to pulse with life, the blank eyes of the mask somehow always following Dream’s movements. He was sweating already. He pushed his own mask up and wiped his sleeve across his face, the sweat stinging his eyes.
There was no obvious movement from the god but one moment his mask had covered his face fully and the next it was pushed up, in the same manner as Dream’s, the face now exposed almost exactly like his own but not quite. The pale flesh was unmarred except for a spattering of golden freckles.
Bitter amusement bubbled up into Dream’s throat: the god mimicked everything about him, even the placement of his mask, except even he wouldn’t mimic the scars Dream had received in the prison. It was poetic, Dream thought, if he was one for poetry.
The silence had dragged on for so long that Dream cleared his throat and then waited.
Still silence. He wasn’t smiling but there was a hint of one on the god’s face, on the fake version of his lips. Dream hated gods, hated that he had ever been delirious enough to think he was one.
(As much as he wished he could say that moment in the prison with Tommy was all a careful act, the way his vault had been, it hadn’t been. It had been desperation and anger and grief and that terrible sense of helplessness and he hated it.)
Dream groaned.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked.
I HAVEN’T DECIDED YET.
The god’s voice was like a vibration. Dream could feel it in his head and in his bones and the ground beneath his feet, distorted.
“Why not? You—You get everything. You get the server and the book back. No one else will have it. It won’t work, ever.”
I KNOW.
It took all Dream’s self control not to roll his eyes.
“Then what’s stopping you from agreeing? I don’t—I don’t get it.”
BECAUSE I WANT TO KNOW WHY.
Of course.
Dream had been expecting that. He had been surprised by the fact Techno hadn’t pushed further and felt guilty at the reason for that. Techno trusted him, he saw it in the other man’s eyes. Would he have trusted Dream if he knew the reason?
“Because, alright? Why does it matter what the reason is?”
IT MATTERS TO ME.
Now Dream did roll his eyes. The god laughed.
“I’m—I’m done. That’s why. I’m done, with life, with everything. You can have it,” he said.
The god moved closer, looking through Dream with a facsimile of his own eyes. When the god smiled, it was nothing like Dream’s smile.
WE HAVE A DEAL.
“Quackity’s whipped up a mob, apparently.”
Techno shivered at Phil’s words. It had been a few weeks since he had met with Dream and he had spent the whole time waiting for the other shoe to drop, for what Dream had said would happen to happen. He had hoped against hope Dream was wrong. Rubbing his snout, Techno groaned softly.
Why couldn’t you just be wrong, man?
“Yeah? I can’t say I’m surprised, that kinda thing seems right up his alley,” said Techno.
Phil snorted.
“You’re not wrong, mate,” he said, moving to slap Techno’s shoulder lightly. “Look at the bright side, at least he’s not trying to string you up. Again.”
A sharp pain shot through Techno’s chest and he turned towards the counter. He needed a cup of tea.
“Y’know, I’m not sure that makes me feel much better, Phil.”
The look on Phil’s face softened and he nodded in understanding.
“Yeah. Well, it’s Dream they’re after. I’m sure he’ll come up with something.”
Techno turned to look at Phil, the kettle full of water sloshing in his hand. His friend was trying to ease his worry, Techno knew that. He also knew that Phil probably didn’t care one way or the other about what happened to Dream. Techno couldn’t completely blame him and he thought that Dream wouldn’t argue the point, either. The thought made him feel worse. He put the kettle on the stove and lit the burner.
“True, true,” said Techno, not believing it.
Something about the way Dream had been acting, the look on his face that had been so tired and weary, made Techno think Dream didn’t plan to fight whatever fate Quackity and his mob had cooked up. The kettle began to whistle. Techno wished he hadn’t promised Dream he’d stop Punz from doing something stupid, that he would stay out of it. He wasn’t one to break a promise and he thought Dream knew that.
“Dang it.”
“Mate?”
Concern was written all over Phil’s face. Techno blinked a few times.
“Heh?”
“Your tea,” Phil said, nodding towards the kettle. It was giving a high pitched whistle, steam pouring out of the spout and trailing up towards the ceiling of the kitchen.
How long was I just standin’ there, zoned out?
“Right, right, I got it.” Techno pulled the kettle off the burner before extinguishing the flame. Phil had already pulled a mug out of the cabinet, the concern still heavy in his eyes. “Sorry, man, just got a lot on my mind.”
Phil leaned against the counter, watching as Techno put a teabag in the mug and poured the water in. The smell of mint filled the air.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Pfft. You don’t need to hear me complainin’ about the foxes again. What does a fox need with my good hoe, huh, Phil?”
“Says the guy who keeps giving the foxes golden apples,” said Phil, eager to keep on this new line of conversation.
“That’s different, alright. It’s different.”
There was a smile on Techno’s face and Phil returned it, relaxing. This was better, this was more like the Techno that he knew.
“Oh, I’m sure it is, mate.”
Techno looked out the window, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment.
“Yeah, it is.”
Ranboo was cold, wet.
They shouldn’t be wet. Wet was bad, painful. But they didn’t feel anything. That was strange, wasn’t it? It was hard to think here, wherever ‘here’ was. They thought they knew, had certainly known at one point, but had forgotten.
A piece the other part of them had taken with them and for good reason.
Limbo was not kind and Ranboo had been here, in part, for too long.
The strange sensation continued until something burst, like a bubble. Green light shone through the water, a face distorted through the ripples. Everything else had been odd, strange, but the face was familiar and when a hand reached down towards them, Ranboo didn’t fight or try to get away.
They took the hand and suddenly they were being pulled up. They couldn’t breathe.
Which was new. Before, they hadn’t ever needed to breathe. Now their chest was practically bursting from the lack of air but instinct told them they had to hold their breath, just a little bit longer.
The surface broke and Ranboo gasped for air. Grass was beneath their hands, green and alive, and they curled their fingers through the blades.
How…?
A sound like a quiet pop came from behind them and they whirled around. There was nothing. Ranboo frowned. They knew the sound of an ender pearl being used as well as anyone else. Someone had been there, close by, and now they were gone.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out the likely who and why but doubt was still there.
Ranboo’s frown deepened as they got to their feet, swaying a bit. It had been a long time since they had stood with their physical self. Thoughts were racing through their mind. They needed some place quiet, some place safe, where they could think and figure out exactly what happened.
Taking a moment to get their bearings, they turned and headed towards home, in the arctic.
Techno was pacing.
Occasionally, he would open one of the chests and rummage through it. He pulled out a small pouch of blaze powder then put it back with a deep sigh. He wanted to do something, to go find Dream and talk to him more, ask him more questions about his plan. Ask him any questions about his plan.
Why the heck hadn’t he done that in the first place?
And he wouldn’t even know where to start looking for Dream, either. The rumor going around was that he was holed up in the prison and Techno wanted to reject that outright – he had seen the state Dream was in, had seen the aftermath of the torture and Dream’s breakdowns – but Dream was the one to have the prison built. That had always bothered Techno because who else would they lock up in it besides Dream? Sure, Techno had entertained the thought that it might be for him but that made no sense: if Dream wanted him gone or out of the way, he had ample opportunity that he had never taken.
Maybe I will stop by the prison, actually.
A quiet knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts and he jumped slightly then rolled his eyes at himself. He had gotten all worked up for nothing. There was another knock, a little louder this time.
“Comin’!”
He opened the door and his mind went blank. His grip on the doorframe tightened slightly, holding himself up.
“Uh, hey, Techno, how’s it, uh, how’s it going?”
Ranboo was standing on the porch, shoulders hunched, different colored eyes sliding across the area, not really settling on one thing in particular. The suit they normally wore was more wrinkled than usual. It had a ragged tear over the chest from where Sam had plunged his sword into their flesh, killing them.
But they were standing on the porch, solid, no shroud of death hanging over them, no gaping wound.
“Ranboo?” Techno’s voice stuck in his throat. “You’re alive.”
“Yeah! I am. About that, funny thing is—”
Their words were cut off by Techno wrapping them up in a crushing hug, lifting them off their feet. Techno buried his snout into Ranboo’s shoulder and took a deep breath, sniffing their cheek and their forehead. They smelled alive like fresh grass and dirt. He hugged them tighter for just a moment before letting go. Techno cleared his throat.
“Sorry about that,” he said, straightening his shirt, brushing himself off before stepping back, hand lingering on Ranboo’s arm. He gestured for them to come inside. “I mean, ah, it’s good to see you, man.”
Ranboo ducked into the cabin.
“Yeah,” agreed Ranboo readily. “Yeah, I’m, woo. I’m glad to be back. I just, do you know how? I could probably take some guesses but…”
They trailed off and Techno frowned.
“Heh? Dream didn’t tell you?”
Tail whipping out behind them, Ranboo leaned back and whistled.
“So it was Dream.”
“He wasn’t there?” Techno asked as he moved to sit in his chair. It creaked comfortably under his weight. “Huh.”
Ranboo looked around the cabin for a moment before sitting down on stool near the brewing stand. Their knees came up to their chest and they wrapped their arms around them.
“Nope, no one was there,” they said. “One minute I was dead and, well, the next minute, here I am! Someone definitely pearled away before I could see them, in a hurry I guess? But I didn’t see anyone.”
“Huh.”
It was strange. Dream had promised and Techno had faith in him to keep that promise but it would’ve served Dream well to play the whole thing up, say what a good deed he had done, bringing back an innocent person that had been unjustly murdered. Especially now, when his head was on the line.
An uneasy feeling had settled in Techno’s chest but he pushed it away. Ranboo was alive. That was all that matter to him. He could deal with whatever weird thing Dream had up his sleeve later.
“Yeah. So...” Ranboo rubbed their hands together. “How’s things been?”
“Oh, you’ve got a lot to catch up on,” said Techno. “Alright, so—”
Word had spread quickly.
Dream had been captured, taken into custody, to await execution.
Techno was sitting at his kitchen table, his hands wrapped around his mug. The tea had gone cold a long time ago. Outside, snow was coming down hard, the small window looking almost completely white. He stared, one finger tapping against the ceramic. Phil had stopped by to tell him, his words cautious, not sure how Techno would respond, but Techno had merely nodded and given a small laugh – welp, who could’ve seen that coming – and then went to put a kettle on.
Phil knew what that meant; Techno was working through things in his own way, a way that didn’t involve potions and swords. He had left to go check in on Ranboo, squeezing Techno’s shoulder before he did.
Techno still hadn’t gathered his thoughts.
He had tried.
But all he had gotten was that he hated the thought of an execution, hated the thought of standing by and doing nothing, and hated the thought of breaking his promise to Dream. The same exact thoughts he had had for weeks.
That really helps me out here, huh.
Leaning back in the chair, Techno groaned. He was spinning his wheels in the mud, as it were.
He trusted Dream and he had made a promise.
Besides, for however dodgy Dream was being, despite the feeling that something was off, it didn’t change the fact that Dream was an odd man who could bring back the dead.
If anyone would be alright, it would be him.
Techno got to his feet and dumped his untouched tea into the sink.
It would be alright.
The snow began falling even harder, nothing but white now visible.
“Looks like the whole damn server turned up,” said Phil, pulling the brim of his hat down a little.
“Sure did.”
Techno’s voice was grim as he scanned the crowd. Phil was right; everyone was here. Not just the members of the server but locals from the nearby villages that had come to see what was happening. He felt sick. The back of his neck was clammy, sweat dripping down and making the collar of his shirt damp. This wasn’t new to Techno. He seen a platform just like this though that one had a metal cage and an anvil hanging above it.
He had hoped to never see anything like it again.
There was a flash of white in the crowd and he frowned before lowering his head, mouth close to Phil’s ear.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
When Phil looked up there was concern and something that was a little too close to pity for Techno’s liking.
“You’re not going to do something stupid, are you, mate?” he asked.
A crooked smile crossed Techno’s face. He wanted to do something stupid. Seeing the platform and the crowd of people had left him nauseous and shaky but he had made a promise.
“Nah, I’m gonna stop someone else from doin’ something stupid,” said Techno, turning to follow after the white flash he had seen.
Punz had his hood, face half hidden, but when Techno grabbed their arm, he didn’t look the least bit surprised. They stepped back towards the edge of the crowd and lowered his voice.
“What do you want, Techno?” they hissed.
“Isn’t there a ‘no armor’ rule in place or did I miss something?”
Punz glanced down. The white hoodie, no matter how oversized, couldn’t hide the bulk of their armor beneath it.
"Since when did you follow a government’s laws?”
It wasn’t a question, it was an insult, and Techno bristled.
Easy, he thought, you’re doin’ this for Dream.
“When I’m keepin’ a promise to a friend, that’s when.”
The anger on Punz’s face faded.
“What are you talking about?”
Techno sighed.
“Look, I don’t like it either, but Dream asked me to make sure you don’t do something stupid.” Examining Punz’s expression, Techno gave a huff of laughter. “And judgin’ by the look on your face, I’m guessin’ he already told you not to do what you’re about to do.”
Curling their hands into fists, Punz looked away, jaw tight, before turning back to Techno.
“And you’re happy to just stand by? They’re going to kill him like—like—” Punz gave Techno a once over. “Like a pig for slaughter.”
The words hit Techno like a knife in the chest and he couldn’t stop himself from looking towards the execution platform. He knew what it was like and how it would be for Dream, worse probably if he was honest, and hated the fact he was going to stand by when both Dream and Punz had risked themselves for him.
And my horse.
Techno’s tail flicked, annoyed at his own thoughts.
“Look, I’m not happy about it, alright? But Dream asked me. He told me to stay out of it and keep you out of it,” said Techno, poking a finger into Punz’s chest, near the gold coin that hung from their neck. “It’s Dream, man, he’s probably got some plan, you know that.”
Sadness and resignation washed over Punz and his shoulders sagged.
“He didn’t tell me about a plan,” said Punz, holding Techno’s gaze. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
Techno started to open his mouth to say that was just how Dream was but shut it. He remembered the prison and how sometimes words – more like fragmented thoughts had poured out of Dream – shaking the same way his body shook. Why hadn’t he told Punz?
“There’s gotta be a reason,” he said and it took him a moment to realize he had spoken aloud.
“You really think that?”
Rocking back on his hooves, Techno considered the question.
If he added everything up, it equaled a whole lot of Dream being more suspicious than ever, more self-destructive than ever, and Dream had told him the story of the fake Vault and the two lives he had lost there. But Techno was a man of his word and he had promised and more than that, he trusted Dream.
“Yeah, I do. Look, the guy is weird, he’s got something up his sleeve and knowin’ him, he doesn’t want anyone else caught in the crossfire,” he said, the word ‘else’ really just meaning him and Punz.
Punz nodded.
“Yeah, fair, man. You’re probably right.” They turned and looked towards the platform, a disgusted sneer on their face as they gestured at it. “But I’m not gonna stay and fucking watch this.”
They were gone before Techno could even form an answer. He didn’t know what he would’ve said anyway. He didn’t want to watch this either and he could’ve left but he was already making his way back to where Phil was standing.
He owed it to Dream.
That was why.
All their debts had been squared away when Dream had given him the Axe of Peace back and returned Ranboo to the land of the living but he still owed it to Dream. As a friend, as someone who had been in the same spot once, dragged unjustly to his death. Owed it to him as a person.
“You alright, mate?” asked Phil.
He wasn’t. That sick feeling hadn’t left him. It had crawled into Techno’s mouth, making everything taste like metal and vomit.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Phil.” Techno laughed and tried to keep his voice even. “It’s not my first execution.”
Phil huffed softly.
“You’d think they’d learn.”
“Pfft, them? Learn? Never.”
A murmur went through the crowd. Phil and Techno turned towards the platform, movement in sync. The sunlight glint off the armor of the guards as they climbed up the stairs. Bad and Ant in front, the size difference almost comical, then Dream. Chains encircled his wrists, wrapped around his waist, connected to his ankles. His head was down, tangled blonde hair hiding his face, and his steps were shuffling. He was thinner than the last time Techno had seen him, face gaunt. When he stumbled slightly on one of the stairs, Sam, who followed behind him, prodded him with his trident and Techno involuntarily took half a step forward.
He paused.
Quackity brought up the rear, the only one not in armor besides Dream, hands shoved into his pockets as if he was taking a leisurely stroll right up to the podium. The day was nice enough for it, if you ignored everything else.
Techno swallowed hard.
“Of course he had to be front and center,” Phil said, mouth curled in revulsion.
“Fork found in kitchen or whatever the sayin’ is.”
The words came from Techno’s mouth and it was his voice but he wasn’t sure he had spoken. An odd sensation had come over him, like he was stuck beneath a frozen lake, watching his own body and not being able to control it.
Phil laughed.
“Yup.”
Quackity was saying something and Techno only caught bits and pieces. What he said didn’t matter; it was the same line about protecting the server, protecting everything they had built, and the destruction that Dream had left in his wake.
If it was really about that, Techno thought, me and Phil would be up there with him.
Techno knew better. He had a sneaking suspicion that everyone standing here did.
“…and with the prison no longer being secure, it’s clear that Dream has left us no other choice.”
A murmur of agreement moved through the crowd and Techno caught a few people looking his way. He flashed a smile, all teeth and tusks, catching Niki’s eye. There was a knowing look on her face.
“This is the last day that we’re under the tyranny of Dream! The last day he gets to fuck things up,” shouted Quackity, voice carrying across the crowd. “It ends today!”
The words were charismatic, charged, designed to rile people up, and it might have gotten a few more cheers had Dream looked like a threat. But lacking his mask and his armor, chained and wearing a torn, dirty jumpsuit, he just looked like a young man. He just looked scared and tired.
Sam shoved him down onto his knees in front of the block of oak wood.
Finally, Dream looked up, eyes falling across the crowd, moving rapidly, and only to settle on Techno. His bottom lip trembled as if he wanted to say something. Techno felt his chest tighten hard enough that it felt like his heart had stopped beating completely and suddenly he had a dozen things he wanted to say to Dream.
Suddenly he really wished he hadn’t made that promise.
The push to Dream’s head Sam gave was unnecessary; he had begun to place his head onto the block without prompting, the way he might have rested his head on a pillow (or my shoulder in the prison, Techno thought) but Sam pressed his face into the wood, hard, before stepping back. Dream was still looking at Techno, as if he couldn’t look anywhere else.
“Close your eyes, man,” Techno whispered, voice thick and cracking.
There was no way that Dream could have heard him. But he closed his eyes, body heaving in a deep sigh, as Sam raised the axe.
Techno did not close his eyes.
The axe fell.
Blood began to spill across the oak wood. A moment later, Dream’s head tumbled to the platform.
As Quackity bent, grabbing Dream’s severed head by the hair, Techno felt vomit rise in his throat, coating his mouth. He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here now or he was going to throw up. Phil was calling his name but Techno didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
Behind him, Quackity lifted Dream’s head as if he was the victor of a fight.