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Striding through the Hypixel lobby and halting in front of a large portal, Ranboo took a deep and grounding breath.
It had been months since he had seen Techno after all. With the older having left for a break after everything that went down on Doomsday, Ranboo couldn’t fault Techno for taking some time off.
But still, the guilt churning inside has been eating away at him.
And after weeks of hiding away and overthinking every single conversation with Techno he had ever had, the rest of the Syndicate had gotten tired of his endless worrying and had sent Ranboo to visit.
And after long debating and many “Do you really think he would want to see me?”’s, Phil had finally gotten enough and basically dragged Ranboo into the Hypixel Lobby himself.
“Just go to him, mate. Trust me, he does want to see you. And if he really doesn’t, then he will politely tell you to leave him alone. He won’t be angry, I promise.”
“Okay…”, Ranboo had answered tentatively. Still unsure, but unable to change anything about the situation.
And with a friendly but firm pat on the shoulder and another “You really don’t have to worry, mate”, Phil had left him to it.
Which was how Ranboo found himself in their current predicament.
Looking around for help, he saw absolutely no one who could or would assist him, not that there was anything he actually needed assistance with, and so his stalling finally came to an end.
And with one last deep inhale, Ranboo finally entered the portal.
The bright midday sun was instantly blinding them and Ranboo had to hold a hand in front of his eyes so they could adjust properly.
Techno’s island was nothing like the Hypixel Lobby.
Where it had been around late afternoon in the latter, the former seemed to exist in an entirely different time zone. Of course it made sense for the players to be in their world with their own rules, but seeing the vast difference was still surprising. Even after all this time.
The large potato fields instantly jumped into their vision, an eyesore Ranboo was unable to ignore, but they seemed old and overgrown in comparison to how they had looked during the height of the war.
They were still tended to and not in a complete disarray, but it was obvious that Techno wasn’t obsessing over them anymore. Or at least not as much as he used to.
“Good”, Ranboo thought, “Another potato war definitely wouldn’t be very helpful for his mental health. Especially because he went here to escape the constant pressure on the SMP.”
The air had a distinct freshness to it, so unlike their home in the snowy Tundra, and Ranboo found himself relaxing under the warm rays of the sun.
Walking down the pathway towards Techno’s house, Ranboo also noticed the different flowers and bushes that undoubtedly hadn’t been there the last time they had visited.
Everything seemed so peaceful here.
Gone were the screams of pain and agony that haunted them every hour of the day. Gone were the heavy feelings of guilt and uncertainty he had experienced. It felt like Ranboo had entered a bubble. A bubble of safety where every burden had been taken away and left in front of before they had entered, for him to pick up later.
Later, once he was ready to carry them again without buckling under their weight. Did Techno feel the same? Was that the reason he had come here?
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” a deep voice suddenly appeared behind them, making Ranboo jump.
“Yep”, he answered, once he had calmed down from the surprise, “I think I can understand why you came here now.”
“Good.” Techno said, not elaborating further.
The warrior had never been one of many words. He spoke only what he deemed necessary, thought over every syllable and their significance before voicing them out loud. And didn’t bother with people who he knew wouldn’t be listening either way.
Ensuring that people actually paid attention was the most important part of being a good speaker, Techno had once said. There was no use in saying a large amount of words if none of it stuck.
Ranboo had always admired that in Techno.
He, who always found himself tumbling over words and phrases one way or another. Stuttering when their anxiety got the best of them, trailing off into nothingness when he feared others had stopped being interested.
Afraid to say the wrong things to the wrong people or, in his opinion even worse, saying the wrong thing to the right people, upsetting them so much they would never want to speak to them ever again. Leading to them being miserable and alone for the rest of their live.
Words hold power, even Ranboo knew that, and sometimes words are a power one is not ready to have.
“You’re overthinking things again”, Techno’s voice dragged them out of their thoughts. “Follow me”, and with that he turned around and left.
Quickly hurrying after him Ranboo tumbled, almost falling over his feet twice, but managed to catch themselves fast enough. He caught up pretty swiftly though and soon their steps were in sync.
Almost at least, then even though Ranboo was the taller one of the two, Techno always made larger steps, always walking with determination. With a final destination in mind and with such a natural stride that it seemed obvious that he would arrive wherever said destination was, no matter who or what crossed his path.
It was the stride of a warrior.
After all these months away from war. After all this time away living in peace as a gardener, Techno still looked like he walked into battle everywhere he went. Back straight and shoulders squared, hands at his side where normally his axe would be, but where now only a small gardening spade was hanging from a loop in his belt, ready to strike at all times.
‘Even here he is never in peace. Not truly.’ Ranboo thought as they arrived at their destination.
“Look” Techno said again, lifting a scarred hand to point at the large potato field they were now standing in front of.
“This wasn’t here during the potato war”, Ranboo noted, taking in the sheer size of it all.
“No it wasn’t”, came the confirmation.
“Why did you make another one?”
There was no judgment in the question, just genuine curiosity. Techno had countless different fields after all, there was technically no reason to make a new one. Especially not one of that size.
“The ones from the war hold memories. This one doesn’t.”
And wasn’t that a good enough reason?
Ranboo knew that Techno found gardening relaxing, that he liked the repetitive movements and the work in the sun. Sometimes, during the late hours of nighttime, they had found themselves wondering if the Tundra did more harm to Techno than the older one let on.
‘Maybe that’s why I didn’t go mad during my time battling Squidkid’ he had mused once, when they were sitting in front of the fireplace in his and Phil’s cabin, hiding away from the snowstorm blowing outside.
Everything had seemed so different back then.
But now that he was older, Ranboo knew that not a lot had changed. Not for Techno at least.
The only thing that had changed was Techno realising he needed a break and, instead of overworking himself like usually, actually taking one. Or, Ranboo corrected, letting Phil pressure him into taking one.
’This one doesn’t.’ The words were echoing in their head.
Ranboo knew that feeling. That feeling when a specific coping mechanism was tainted with blood, so one had to search for a close enough replacement.
For himself it had been his axe.
Chopping trees had always been their way of processing the world and it’s many events. But after everything that had gone down on Doomsday and before, he had to use another one.
The first axe had given him flashbacks when he had touched it for too long.
“It’s good that you took that break, Techno. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you hadn’t.”
“I don’t want to know.”
Ranboo simply inclined his head in understanding.
“I find it fascinating that you put so much work into this field”, they continued the conversation instead. “Why did you make it this big?”
“The more I work, the less time I have to think. And once I started I was unable to stop. It felt as if my inner voice only deemed it satisfactory when it was as big, if not even bigger, than the previous fields”, came the answer.
“Maybe your mind still felt as if you had something to prove…”
“Possibly.” This time it was Techno’s turn to agree.
It struck Ranboo as odd that he was currently the one to give advice. Normally it was always Techno who spoke with wisdom.
But war changes people. It forces people to become more mature, no matter if they want to or not.
It forces children to grow up.
And hadn’t Ranboo been one? Merely a child caught in the crossfire of nations?
Back then he hadn’t been a warrior, hadn’t even thought themselves capable of the violence they had later committed. But desperate times lead to his involvement.
He had changed so much.
Yet Techno hadn’t. War had always been a part of his life, wherever he went destruction followed. Or so the rumours said.
Like a heavy blanket, violence had settled over his shoulders, dragging them down with it. An unreliable safety net, making him unable to let down his guard and relax. Ranboo had never seen Techno this relaxed before.
Back then Ranboo had always thought that Techno never knew anything different but war and destruction. That he grew up with it. They had thought that he had always been like that, how would he be able to deal with it otherwise after all?
But back then they had still been so naive.
Now they knew better.
Now they had changed. Ranboo was able to understand Techno now, could sympathise with his pains and aches. More often than they wanted to admit, their fight or flight instinct had been triggered by simple and mundane things. Like wild animals in the woods making a noise or tree branches creaking.
But instead of cowering into themselves or running away like they had done before, he now instantly grabbed his sword and jumped into a defensive stance, ready to fight for his life should it come to it.
‘Once a warrior, always a warrior’ Techno had said once, when Ranboo had asked him about the drawn sword when they had accidentally startled the older man. ‘Some things never seem to change.”
And now, after all this time, Ranboo understood.