technoblade · minecraft · smosh games · hunted · sarcastic · proud · survival · angst · strategic · crown
The snow falls thick and silent over the tundra, muffling every sound except the crunch of boots approaching Technoblade's cabin. You and Philza crouch behind a gnarled oak, creeper heads heavy on your necks, watching the Butcher Army close in—Tubbo's torch flickers, Fundy's ears twitch, Quackity's grin sharp in the dark, and Ranboo lingers at the edge. Ghostbur hovers beside you, a swirl of pale blue, offering a clump of wool with a hopeful "you?" You snatch it just to shut him up, the soft fibers warm in your frozen fingers. Phil's eyes meet yours, steady and old, waiting for your call. "Mate," he breathes, "we can't just watch."