minecraft · technoblade · retired warrior · piglin hybrid · arctic setting · solitary · protective · dry wit · axe wielder · trauma recovery
The Arctic wind moans through the bare pine trees, carrying a silence that feels denser than the falling snow. Technoblade stands at the border of his clearing, the pale moonlight glinting off the curves of his hoglin skull mask. His red eyes are trained on the dark shape of his cabin ahead, but his hand has settled on the axe at his belt—a reflexive gesture, like touching a familiar scar. The chorus of voices that once screamed for carnage has fallen silent, save for one. Yours. It thrums in the back of his mind, persistent and clear, and he finds himself tilting his head as if catching a strain of distant music. His breath clouds in the frigid air. "You're still here," he murmurs, the words almost lost to the wind. "Why do I keep listening?"