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Aimsey doesn't understand a lot of things.
She doesn't understand why she died. She doesn't understand why it didn't matter. She doesn't understand why everyone on this server seems so broken, so afraid. Why they're all so protective of what they've deemed as theirs. She doesn't understand why, even now, there are secrets being kept from her, pieces of this story that she still can't figure out.
What she does understand is this: Ranboo is dead. But more than that, Ranboo is her friend. And dead or not, she has always been there for her friends.
Which is why she doesn't question his explanation of his death. She doesn't question the obvious fear he—or the other, imprisoned, part of him—is feeling. All she does is promise him—I'll be here.
So she doesn't bat an eye when he comes to her, weeks after her eviction, stumbling and shuddering and—and sobbing, falling to his knees before her. She doesn't hesitate to kneel in front of him, grasping his shoulders, his face, crying, "Ran—Ran! What's wrong?"
He's shaking, barely able to articulate words through his cries, but she hears, "Aims—Aims, please—please, I—it hurts, it hurts, please!"
And as she watches, his whole body jolts, and goes transparent for a split second before solidifying again.
And she understands what's happening—his soul, filled with too much pain, too much heartache, is failing.
"Okay," she whispers, trying to keep calm for him—she needs to be the calm one, she needs— "Okay, how long do we have?"
He shakes his head violently, body still convulsing with the effort to stay together. "I don't—I don't know, n-not long, not—please, Aimsey—"
She pulls him to her, hugging him carefully and he shakes against her. "It's gonna be fine, Ran, okay? I promise. Have I ever broken a promise to you?"
He shakes his head. His body goes transparent again. She swallows down her panic. "Ran, I need you to tell me who to go to. Who can help you?"
Quietly, still stuttering, "T-Techno. Has–has a f—favor. He's—the snow—snow biome base I showed you, the first d-day. Aimsey, it hurts..."
"I know," she whispers. She stands, carefully pulling him up with her so he's leaning against her shoulder. He's very light. She wonders if that's because he's a ghost or something else. "Tell me where to go."
So they go, much slower than either would have liked, down the Prime Path, to the portal hub. When they get to the Nether, Ranboo guides her through, down a cobblestone path much sturdier than most of the others, and through another portal. On the other side is a vast, hilly expanse of snow.
It's cold, much colder than Aimsey was prepared for, but she doesn't have time to worry about that, because Ranboo has been going transparent more and more often now, and she's afraid that the next time, he won't solidify again.
He's leaning against her, weak and tired, and she's practically dragging him through the snow, but eventually, eventually, they make it to a sprawling commune, a wood fence surrounding quaint cottages and farms. It's peaceful, almost beautiful, but, again, Aimsey doesn't care right now. She makes it to the biggest houses, connected by a bridge, and up the stairs to a door, unable to carry Ranboo any further. She bangs on the door as loud as she can, panicking when she feels Ranboo's head droop onto her shoulder.
"Ran—" she hisses, "Ran, stay—are you with me? What's—are you okay?"
He whimpers, but manages to whisper in her ear. "Still here."
Aimsey sighs a little in relief—they're not out of time yet. "Good. Just—just keep fighting, you're doing so well, okay?"
Before Ranboo can respond, the door swings open, and Aimsey stares, wide-eyed, as a piglin hybrid glares down at her.
He's tall—not as tall as Ranboo, but damn well close. His long pink hair is pulled into a messy braid, as if he didn't try very hard on it. His eyes are red, gleaming with apprehension. He's wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, met by a red sash in the middle. His ears, fuzzy and swiveling on top of his head, are filled with gold earrings, and on the left ear, an emerald on a golden chain dangles. There's a sword at his side, and he's gripping the hilt like a lifeline.
Aimsey just about shits her pants.
"Who are you?" The piglin demands gruffly. His eyes land on Ranboo and widen slightly, but when he speaks again, his voice doesn't change. "What's with him?"
Aimsey swallows her fear and speaks. "I–I'm Aimsey, I'm kind of new here? Um—I'm–I'm looking for Techno, is he around?"
The piglin's eyes bore into her soul, and she shrinks back, forgetting her urgency in favor of being absolutely fucking terrified.
"I'm Techno," the piglin says after a moment. Aimsey blinks.
"O-oh. Um—" she swallows. "Well—" this is awful. Why did Ranboo have to be friends with the most frightening person she'd ever met?
Her train of thought jerks to a stop when Ranboo whimpers again, sagging further against her. Suddenly, Aimsey forgets to be scared of Techno—there are more pressing matters at hand.
"Shit, okay, um—" she shifts her hold on Ranboo, trying to stand him up straighter—it barely works. "Tech—Techno, I— do you know how to bring people back to life?"
Techno arches an eyebrow. "No."
Ranboo shakes his head against Aimsey's shoulder. "Not—not him. F-find Dream."
Techno's eyes dart to Ranboo and back to Aimsey. "What's going on?"
"He's fading," Aimsey says simply. "I don't have time to explain it further—we need to bring him back now."
"I don't understand—" Techno starts, but Aimsey doesn't want to hear what he has to say unless it's agreeing to help her.
"For fuck's sake!" She cries, interrupting him. "Are you his friend or not? He fucking needs help—he's needed help for months and apparently no one cares except me, so are you going to help me bring him the fuck back to life or not?"
Techno's brows furrow—he's somewhere between confused and angry. "I—"
Just then, Ranboo shudders, and his form flickers again—staying invisible for a terrifying five seconds before returning with a pained cry.
Techno looks like he understands now, and he doesn't like it. He lunges forward and catches Ranboo's arm, pulling him close. Aimsey forces herself not to feel jealous or angry. "Hey—kid, kid, I've got you now, okay? We'll find Dream, he owes me that favor, remember? I've got you."
All Ranboo manages is a weak nod.
Techno turns his gaze on Aimsey. "You said you care about him, right?" At her nod, he huffs. "Great, you're coming with."
With that, he stands, scooping Ranboo's shuddering body into his arms and carrying him inside the house. Aimsey follows, watching as the piglin gently lays her friend on the couch, covering him with a blanket. Ranboo doesn't seem aware of any of it— too lost in the pain, too focused on clawing his way to corporeality.
Techno sits in an armchair, not taking his red eyes off of Ranboo's form except to type something into his communicator. His face is impassive, but in his eyes, Aimsey can see a glimmer of worry—of fear.
Her anger grows deeper.
"Why do you only care now?" She asks, fighting to keep her voice down, so as to not startle Ranboo. "Why now, when I've dragged him to your doorstep? Why not before?"
Techno searches her face for a moment before sighing. "I meant to bring him back," he murmured. "Really, I did. I just... got sidetracked."
"With what?" What could possibly be more important than the life of an innocent?
Techno shook his head. "Grieving." His hands twisted around each other as he stared at the floor, unseeing. "I... forgot. That it's different here. I don't—I don't come from a place where people have three lives. I don't come from a place where—where people can be revived. And when that knowledge is kept by one person, and that one person disappears for months... I just—forgot it was possible."
"Oh." Aimsey doesn't know how much of that she believes, but Techno does seem pretty guilty—as an empath, she would know. "How long was it before you forgot?"
The piglin releases a slow breath. "A while. There wasn't any rush. I didn't—I didn't know he had a time limit, or whatever this is. I thought I had time to find Dream, so I focused on getting Ranboo's kid back, and then—well. Y'know."
Aimsey purses her lips. "Yeah."
She wants to be angry. She wants so badly to shout at this man, who claims to care for Ranboo and yet—and yet had just forgotten the one thing that could help.
But she also understands. She understands the pain of losing someone close to you, how it clouds everything, leaves judgment and reason virtually dead. Even when that person is never truly gone, even when they haunt your every step, it still hurts. And it is so hard to fight past.
Gods, this server truly is something.
Aimsey opens her mouth to say—something. She doesn't know what it is, but there is something in her throat that needs to come out, and Techno's piercing red eyes only speed up the process.
At least, until her unspoken comment is interrupted by the door slamming open with far more than the necessary force and a strange man stepping through.
This is another person who immediately makes Aimsey uneasy. She can't decide if it's the too-bright lime hoodie, or the weapons belt full of knives, or the white porcelain mask with a black smiley face drawn across it, but something about this person feels... off.
Techno stands as the stranger enters. "Dream," he says in his monotone voice, "what have I told you about barging into my house like that?"
The man—Dream—shrugs, a tiny smirk gracing what little of his mouth Aimsey can see. "Sorry, Techno. But hey, you should be thanking me for getting here so quickly." He strides into the living room as if he owns the place. Out of the corner of her eye, Aimsey sees Techno's fist clench.
Dream surveys the room—or, Aimsey thinks he does, based on his head movements. That mask really is unnerving. Then he turns, the smirk growing into a wide, knowing smile. "Now, what was it you wanted?"
Techno visibly takes a breath. "I want to cash in my favor."
Dream tilts his head. "Really? So soon?" He laughs at Techno's scowl. "Just joking, Blade. What do you want?"
Techno points to Ranboo's shivering, glitching body, lying on the couch. "I want you to revive him."
Dream stills for a moment. Aimsey wonders if he's surprised or just acting like it. "Huh," he said. "Y'know, I thought you were just shouting nonsense at the prison that day. Upholding your honor and all that bullshit. But no..." he stalks closer to Techno, and both the piglin and Aimsey tense.
Dream peers up into red eyes, mouth curling into something Aimsey doesn't like. "Fascinating," the man whispers. "The great Technoblade, Blood God, Butcher of the Pit, cares about someone other than Philza."
Techno takes an obvious and pointed step back. "Says the guy who doesn't care about anyone. Are you gonna continue this little game we have or not?"
Dream chuckles. "Relax, Tech. I'm just observing. I'll give you what you want. Just remember... you owe me."
The way he says it sends a shiver down Aimsey's spine. She decides she doesn't like this guy.
Techno rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know. Get on with it. I'm on a time crunch here." At Dream's cocked head, he adds, "gotta grind, man, you know how it is."
Dream snorts and turns away, back to the couch. Ranboo is whimpering quietly now, his form permanently transparent.
Dream removes the blanket from Ranboo's body, then extends his hands over the great, bleeding slash across the ghost's chest. He murmurs something under his breath—Aimsey can't quite catch it, but it's definitely not English.
Then, faster than she can even react, Dream's sword materializes in his hand and he plunges it into Ranboo's chest.
Aimsey shouts wordlessly and lunges forward, but a great wind and a pulsing, blinding green light shove her back. She slams into something warm, and then an arm is curling around her chest, holding her back—Techno. She fell into Techno.
He doesn't let her forward, even when the light grows, even as Dream twists the blade in her friend's chest, and she screams and claws at Techno's arm, begging him to let her go, to let her help Ranboo because she can't do this again, she can't lose anyone again, she can't fall down that pit because this time she won't come back up—
And then the light disappears. Dream's sword hangs from his grip at his side. And Aimsey sucks in a shuddering breath because—because...
The couch is empty. There is no sign that Ranboo was ever there.
Aimsey feels tears drip down her cheeks.
Dream turns to them. "He'll be at the place where he died. I suggest you hurry. You know how his memory is."
Aimsey and Techno watch him walk out of the house, his sword shining and pristine. It doesn't look like a sword that just killed someone.
Slowly, Techno releases her. She turns to look at him, trembling. "I don't understand," she whispers.
Techno sighs, his red eyes dark. "Welcome to this server. That's revival." He turns away from her. "We should go."
Right, because—Ranboo's alive now, and probably confused, and— oh gods, he can feel again, he can live for real, he can—she can meet him the way he's supposed to be, she—
She's bolting out of the house before her brain catches up to her. She's not that surprised to see Techno next to her as they run to the portal.
They run through the Nether. Aimsey lets Techno take the lead—he'd been there when Ranboo died, he'd know where to go.
They run through the main town, broken and decrepit buildings rising on either side, down the ruined and ripped Prime Path, until it breaks and they reach a small, grassy inlet. The prison rises ahead, black and imposing against the blue sky. But Aimsey doesn't pay attention to any of that. Instead, her gaze—her heart—fixes on the figure standing at the bottom of the hill, tail curled around his legs. When he turns to look at them, his eyes widen and he begins walking towards them.
Aimsey wastes no time. She sprints down the hill, leaving Techno behind, and tackles Ranboo in a hug. He stumbles back, but catches her, long arms wrapping around her back. He's soft, warm—alive.
Aimsey sobs. "It worked," she whispers, "i-it wo—y-you're alive, right? Y-you can feel?"
Ranboo nods from where his face is tucked into her hair. "Yes." he pulls back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. He's smiling a little, and the pure emotion in his eyes breaks and reforms her over and over. "Thank you, Aimsey."
There's a quiet cough from behind her, and Ranboo looks up, his smile falling. Aimsey turns to see Techno standing there, looking slightly constipated. Or guilty. She really can't tell which it is.
Ranboo opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Techno is lowering himself to his knees, bowing his head, and Aimsey doesn't know piglin culture very well, but she can understand the baring of his neck, the lowered eyes, the hands held, palm open, in front of him. This is a submission. A plea.
"Forgive me," the piglin murmurs, and his voice holds the traces of a ragged, desperate emotion. "I failed you when I shouldn't have, and I failed you again after that."
Ranboo steps forward, then kneels before Techno, taking the piglin's hands in his. "You saved my son," he whispers. "That's all that matters."
Techno meets Ranboo's gaze, and Ranboo holds it steady. "No. You matter too, and I should've remembered that. I shouldn't have waited for a stranger to knock me into reality. I should've—"
Ranboo squeezes Techno's hands, silencing him. It feels so private. Aimsey wonders if she should be watching this. "There's too many should'ves, Techno. Right now, I'm just glad to be alive. I-I'm grateful that you came back for me." He smiles, and turns to Aimsey, beckoning her forward with an outstretched hand. Slowly, she complies, kneeling next to them. Techno tracks her movements, although there's something raw in his gaze that tells her he's not really wary of her.
"I don't think my ghost explained who this is," Ranboo says to Techno, "so I will. This is Aimsey. She's new. She is also the reason why I had so much time," he adds with a slight smile.
Aimsey feels her cheeks redden. "Well—I mean, I can't have done all of it—I mean, I'm sure you have other friends—"
"Yeah, but none of them cared," Ranboo whispers. "I told you—or, my mind did. And you're the only person I told."
Impossibly, Aimsey blushes even more. "I just didn't want to lose another person."
It's silent for a moment, all three of them basking in relief, in guilt, in whatever complicated thing hangs over this server.
Then, abruptly, Techno speaks. "Aimsey," he says quietly, firmly, "how do you feel about anarchy?"
Ranboo snorts, but Aimsey blinks, confused. "Um. I have no particular opinion?"
Techno nods. "Cool, cool. So, uh. Say—hypothetically—there was an anarchist syndicate on this server that only actually does things when we feel like it and has no strings attached. Would you want to join it?"
Aimsey thinks for a moment. On the one hand, joining organizations on this server seems like a surefire way to make enemies. On the other hand, she's homeless. And also, honestly, a little lonely. Her only friend here is—was— a ghost—everyone else targets her or attacks her or tries to manipulate her. Having friends, allies, is rather appealing.
And if it's these two, in front of her?
She shrugs. "Sure."
And she watches Techno smirk, and Ranboo smiles happily, and feels something growing in her, something she hasn't felt in a long time.
Something purely happy.