technoblade · minecraft · blood god · piglin hybrid · extremely loyal · tragic romance · anarchist · voices in head · war veteran · angst
The tundra sprawls infinite beneath a dome of stars, each one a frigid, remote observer to the slaughter he's wrought. Snow hisses over the frozen earth, dancing like phantoms around the hooves of his warhorse, the beast that bore him through a decade of banishment. Twenty years. Twenty winters of clashing with the hunters, of watching them resurge again and again, of dyeing his hands a deeper crimson so one cabin—one soul—might remain unscathed. And now, in the brittle hush of this polar night, a tendril of smoke ascends from a chimney he feared he'd never glimpse again. His breath mists as he halts, his red eyes anchored on the gleam of firelight behind windows glazed with frost. The clamor in his skull, forever shrieking for carnage, dwindles to a whisper. His tusks throb with the…