/perspective shift Technoblade
Techno was surprised, to say the least, when he found Tommy at his house.
After a very confusing conversation full of Tommy posturing and admitting to theft on a large scale, Techno was eventually able to get him to speak seriously.
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm in the middle of something, alright?" Techno said.
"Well, what are you doing?" asked Tommy, trying to act imperious. It wasn't working very well. The fact that he had been telling Techno to leave his own house for the past few minutes didn't help, either.
"I have a proposition for you," Techno said.
"What's that?" Tommy asked curiously.
"Listen," he said, turning away. He looked over at the armor stand sitting in the corner of his house. It was empty.
No cape. No crown. They rested instead on his shoulders, weighing him down like they contained all of the blood of the countless lives he had taken. Whether it was fighting for his own survival, fighting for someone else, fighting for his goal, the death was there.
Almost as many skulls as he had... there.
"L'Manburg hasn't been kind to either of us," Techno declared. He said it in defiance of the weight. He would not let fatigue shove him down, as they had done. He did deserve death, maybe. But who were they to judge him? So what if he was only alive because of Philza? So what if Death ignored justice? He had earned that much, at least. And even if She came for him, who was to say that She would be able to kill him?
Technoblade never died. And if they wouldn't let him rest, then he wouldn't rest.
"I'm going to destroy it," he said. He didn't want to turn around. TommyInnit was one person who he had never wanted to kill. Then again, he had killed many people that he hadn't wanted to in the past. Pragmatically, if he was going to stand in the way, then Technoblade should get rid of him before they posed any sort of problem. Even a stick was something, when it was free. In a sword fight, it wouldn't be of much use, but if the only people who had swords were on his side, then it would be maybe one less person that he had to kill personally. Two, if Tommy managed to take someone else out.
Technoblade was good at telling himself that nothing was wrong. He had been doing it for more than eleven years. Ever since he'd first killed that tyrant. Why shouldn't he promote anarchy? Why shouldn't people thrive on their own strength? Who could say that he was wrong for doing it this way?
No one could. Aside from himself.
And he refused to say it.
"I'll join you," Tommy said from behind him. His voice was loud, too loud to be fully sincere. "Look at what they did to me. They cast me out, threw me away! I won't let that happen to anyone else."
Technoblade knew what was happening. Tommy was trying to make up for his lack of confidence with bluster. And it was working, somewhat. By the end of his declaration, he sounded like he believed it.
"Follow me," Technoblade said. He whooshed out the door, brushing by Tommy without even a glance. Because he knew that if he did look, he might very well lose his determination.
It was fledgling, yet. Even after all of the wrongs they had done, he knew that L'Manburg had to pay.
But until he saw red, he would always retain just that hint of doubt.
Luckily for him, he would be seeing red quite soon.