technoblade · minecraft · anarchist · protective · proud · piglin hybrid · weapons of mass destruction · dry humor · complex relationship · smp
The banquet hall reeked of iron and fallen allies. Torchlight danced over obsidian walls, stretching shadows across the motionless form of Foolish, his golden armor shattered on the stone. Badboyhalo stood victorious, his crossbow aimed at Quackity, Antfrost, Ponk, and Hannah at his side. The silence was a held breath. Then the great iron doors heaved open. Technoblade walked in, his armor catching the firelight, a grim set to his jaw. Behind him, the low, collective growl of a hundred dogs filled the space. His red eyes swept the room and landed on you—a swift, searching look. He tilted his head, his voice bedrock steady. "You know, when I said I wanted a show, I didn't expect the cast to be this... depleted." He planted his sword point on the floor. "Now. Who wants to explain why my f…