Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

God it was so cold.

Strong winds hit Schlatt feeling like pins against his skin. He was numb all over, especially his hands that were shaking violently. He glanced down at his hands to examine them. His fingertips were worrying shades of red with tints of blue and purple, and his horns felt too heavy for his skull because of how weak he had become. It was as though they could break off at any moment.

Scattering snow that fell heavily from the cloudy grey sky clung to his dirtied suit, seeping through to touch his shivering back and shoulders. His clothes were nearly frozen, making every movement incredibly uncomfortable. His tucked in tail was numb almost like it didn't exist, not like he would care if it didn't. 

It was clear he wasn't wearing the appropriate clothing for this weather.

The sound of snow crunching from Schlatt's black pointed shoes was blocked by the howling snowstorm. The rush of air made him stumble, almost losing his balance. He could barely feel shit from the waist down but he was certain blisters had already begun to form, hell maybe even frostbite.

His legs were growing weak and tired with each step. He had been walking aimlessly for who knows how long. 

Now he didn't mean to go this far out, but because he had the greatest fucking luck in the world, he ended up getting chased by a group of traveling Brits in the nether who happened to recognize him. Leading him into a portal that took him to a tundra, of all things.

Schlatt had lost the election back at Man- L'man -berg. Wilbur got his wish and took the place of becoming the rightful President of the nation that could've been his – that was meant to be his . Yet somehow he still lost. Combining the votes just wasn't good enough, it seemed, which sounded downright pathetic.

Once Wilbur announced his leadership next to that podium, with the biggest shit eating grin. He, of course, exiled the man who had got in the way of his plans, that being Schlatt. And so, led him to where he is now; freezing himself to death in the middle of some damn winter wonderland.

He had been wandering for days after being exiled, living off of piss water and badly cooked meat. He couldn't risk being caught by Wilbur's men, or else he was a dead man. That curly-haired bastard hated his guts, and wanted him as far away as possible. Of course, Schlatt didn't want to abide by his rules, but the thought of death being in every possible corner made his skin crawl.

He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, desperate for any warmth.

His tail flicked with irritation. He could really use a drink right about now.

Schlatt was so busy being lost in his past problems that he hadn't noticed there was a sudden lack of trees around him. Becoming aware of this, he slowed his pace, looking around the open area.

In the distance he could faintly make out what appeared to be a cabin, actually two cabins. They looked to be connected by some pathway.

"Oh thank fuck ." He let out a weak chuckle, mouth sore from breathing out of it too much.

A wave of relief fell over him. He felt as though he would cry tears of goddamn joy. It had been too long since he had a proper roof over his head. Too long . Thank the lord if they have a fireplace in there too.

With all the strength he could muster, he pushed past thick snow that came up to his knees, grunting at the effort. The place had a fence bordering it that reached yards away. He guessed they owned animals, or just didn't want anyone coming near their home. Schlatt didn't pay much attention to it. Reaching the gate to the fence, he found he could open it with ease, as there was no snow tall enough to block it from the inside.

He closed the gate behind him, keeping his eyes on the cabins. They were well built, if he was being honest, none he'd ever seen before. The trap doors instead of glass for windows was a new look to him. The structures were quite small, but nice nonetheless.

Walking closer to it he could see the stables. One he guessed was for horses, and the other – judging by the large amounts of grey fur lying on the grass, some sort of dog house.  Both of them were empty. Come to think of it, there were none of those two animals in sight, or any animal for that matter.

The owner of this place must've abandoned it not too long ago, seeing that there was still meat on the ground that was reeking from being left out. Not to mention the visible footprints in areas where the falling snow didn't cover. Abandoned or not, he'll find a way to convince whoever lives here to stay. He was J. fucking Schlatt after all, he knew how to find his way through people.

And yet you still lost the election.

Schlatt frowned at that. Yeah, so what if he did? Once he's in better condition, he'll go back and win that election to show those pricks who's boss.

That's if they let you back in. After how you were, it's unlikely that they'd nominate you again.

The sound of twigs snapping made Schlatt stop dead in hus tracks. He spun around, furrowing a brow. It sounded too close for comfort. He swore he could even feel hot breath on his neck from when he heard it. There was someone else there with him.

"Who was that?" He shouted. Did they see him? Shit, was it possible he was thinking aloud?

He started getting agitated as he received no answer. "You son of a bitch! You better not be stalking me! I don't like it when people fucking stalk me!" His voice became more frantic with his growing anxiety. There was no one there, just the sound of more wind.

Great, been in the cold for so long and he's already hearing things. Next thing you know, he's gonna be some wacko in the woods. He's honestly surprised he's made it this far while relying on his "survival skills".

He sighed.

Screw this . He needed to get away from the cold. He can deal with whatever just happened later.

He ran up the stairs to where he guessed was the front entrance to one of the cabins. Lifting a trembling hand, he knocked on the wooden door. He was only able to get one knock in though, as the first made the door creak open, making him flinch. Putting his hand back, he grew uneasy. This was becoming incredibly fucking eerie. 

Hesitating, he steadily peeked his head inside.

"Uh, hello?..." He asked, uncertain.

When he received no answer, he slowly crept in, the door continuing to squeak as he did so. His shoes softly clacked on the wooden floor with his light and cautious steps. Schlatt squinted his eyes, it was hard to see. The only light visible was from the dim lanterns outside coming in through the windows.

Closing the door behind him, his body was consumed with warmth by the enclosed space, the icy air no longer hitting him. He immediately rubbed his hands together to heat them up. They were painfully numb.

He stopped focusing on his hands to see in front of him. Fixing his posture along with straightening his wrinkled suit, he cleared his throat. He was still a little shaken up from earlier, but he still tried to sound like his usual confident and professional self to ease his nerves.

"You should really get your locks checked." The hybrid called out.

He walked further in, "I mean c'mon, you're practically begging someone to rob you." 

Schlatt continued to joke with a smirk, but it faltered when there was still no sign of anyone, just the rattling of the trapdoors filling the silence.

Whoever did live here clearly didn't care too much about it. The place looked like a dump. With objects all around the floor, furniture that looked like they'd been thrown in anger, and broken glass everywhere. It was fortunate Schlatt hadn't stepped on any of said glass. 

Any thoughts of keeping this cabin for himself quickly left. It looked too much of a hassle for anyone to care for such a place.

He walked over to a hallway where there were multiple doors to rooms. He was starting to wonder how many people actually lived here. 

A shining light caught the corner of his eye. Hanging up on the wall by wooden mounts were weapons and tools. Only one caught his attention. It was an axe, but not just any axe, it was an enchanted one.

Schlatt gasped at the sight. He'd never been so close to an enchanted weapon before, or well, clearly saw one before. They were always up in his face or too quick for him to notice during the times he'd see others in battle. Looking at it now, it was almost mesmerizing with its magical glowing force.

Schlatt thought for a moment. He's never held one before, he never needed to. Most of his life he was free from the outside world, he didn't need any enchantments for protection and, even if he did, it was always the guards who used them. He wasn't fond of all that dirty work anyway.

The ram hybrid slowly stretched his arm out almost like he was hesitant, he wasn't sure why. It was like there was another presence other than his own with him, warning him away. Oh please, do you really think anyone will notice? He shook away the feeling carelessly and lifted up the axe from off the wall with both his hands. 

He yelped as it pulled his body down with it, hitting the floor as it made a huge dent in the wood. The echo sound it made from the impact was surely loud enough to wake every creature from miles away. 

It was...heavier than he thought. Straining, he lifted it up again to have it rest on his shoulder.

Walking further down the hall, he noticed some paintings, some that looked in good condition while others were dusted and torn. He walked up to one that was bigger than the rest at the end of the hallway, making it stand out more. 

He leaned in, actually putting the effort into focusing on the two figures in the painting. It was hard to see because of the lack of light. Once he processed who they were, he was startled. His eyes widened in shock.

This couldn't be real. This had to be a joke. Out of all the places? There was no way! No way in hell .

Schlatt could feel his heartbeat quicken. He knew these people, and he knew what they were capable of.

Standing in the painting was the famous blood-thirsty piglin, with those dangerously huge tusks that were so chillingly familiar. His crown and glasses he had on seemed far too small for him. He wore a dress shirt with loose brown pants, and a big fluffy red cloak that covered most of his bulking appearance. 

The other was older and an Elytrian, his enormous and intimidating wings not fully fitting in the picture as they were spread out. The man had long blonde hair that was down to his shoulders, wearing green robes followed by some stupid striped bucket hat that nearly covered his eyes.

Techno and Philza. Also known as The Blood God and The Angel of Death.

The two most powerful beings. A duo that was known by all and able to make a whole kingdom quiver in fear just by their names.

Their expressions looked to be complete opposites. Techno with his bored and serious look, while Philza had the warmest smile. The old Elytrian almost looked innocent, but Schlatt knew he was far from that.

If this was their home, then that would explain the frightening amount of hung up weapons. As much as Schlatt didn't want to be right, he knew he was in some deep shit. 

Just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse. How could he be so stupid to walk up to a random house in the middle of nowhere, not that he had much of a choice really. What else was he supposed to do, Freeze to death? Honestly, he'd much prefer that than be slaughtered by the biggest war criminals known to man.

He stepped away from the painting, gripping on to the axe he stole. His body began to tremble again, but it wasn't from the cold this time. This time it was from fear.

Schlatt frantically moved his head at every angle. The more paintings he saw, the more he wanted to run. 

Drawn scenes of the Blood God with withers and a face full of blood thirst filled his vision. That man just loved to gloat, didn't he?

"Shit, shit, shit !" He cursed, His words getting shakier with growing irritation.

He needed to get out of here.

He'll die if he stays.

" That axe doesn't belong to you ."

Schlatt stiffened.

Chapter Text

Schlatt was fucked.

Schlatt was so fucked.

He could feel the looming figures glare, how it bored into him. He noticed the silhouette in front of him. It did not look at all human. It looked like a beast with its matted fur and broad shoulders, the width of them was maybe three times of his own. He stood as still as possible, his breathing growing short. He couldn't move, he couldn't look behind him, he was afraid that if he did he would die on the spot.

It's not him, please don't tell me it's him. 

He knew it had to be, but there was no way he could accept that. He tried to stay in denial. The monster spoke again and Schlatt was sure he would throw up. 

His voice was gruff, "I said, that doesn't belong to you." The malice in his words grew. He was becoming impatient.

The axe, that's right. He had his axe. His sweaty hands gripped it harder, making his knuckles turn white. Maybe he could strike a blow at him. It would surprise him. That might be a big enough distraction to–no, he wasn't thinking rationally. He hadn't eaten or slept in days, his limbs were mostly bone and no muscle. He was in the worst possible condition to fight, or run.

If he can't fight, he'll have to come up with something else. He stiffly turned his head, locking eyes with bright crimson eyes that hadn't had a wink of sleep, judging by the horrible eyebags.

Schlatt tried to compose himself, twisting his body to face him. "Techno, was it?" His voice didn't match how he felt, it sounded as if the beast was actually a close ally he just simply forgot the name of. There was still visible shakiness here and there though.

It took all his strength not to stumble over his words. "How've you been?" He said, putting on a grin, which probably wasn't believable by the way his face twitched.

Techno huffed, tilting his head up with a suspicious look. "The same as usual." The change in tone made Schlatt almost choke. How can one go from ' I'll murder you' to 'casual small chit-chat' in just seconds? 

Out of nowhere he said, "You really shouldn't be here." Was he threatening him? Of course he was. It's what he does.

Schlatt sneered. "Well are you not gonna fuckin' welcome me first?" The piglin stepped closer. This made him instinctively move to the side, a way to escape. It was like he was trapped under the looming physique.

He was.

Techno's face was emotionless, it was one of the things Schlatt hated about him. How unreadable people said he was and it actually being true.

"Did you not just hear what I fucking said-" He was interrupted with a violent cough of his own. The axe slid off his shoulder, causing a replication of the sound from before, making his head hurt. He bumped into the wall leaning on it for support, nausea slowly taking over him.

This is bad, he was at his most vulnerable just a few feet away from a mass murderer. 

"Why are you in my house?" It seemed more like a demand than a question.

A moment without answering, Techno blinked. "Don't you come from L'manberg?" He sounded quite curious. Schlatt detected a little hostility there too. The hideous name made him grit his teeth, but he dared not to speak about it. "I doubt you're here to cause us trouble considering you look like, well, shit."

Wait, Us? Could The Angel of Death be here too?

"What do you mean by that?" It was a genuine question which he spoke without thinking. He knew Wilbur was a shitshow president, but what trouble could he possibly cause them? Schlatt grew paler than he already was with realization. The nation wasn't actually planning on fighting them, right? That would be suicide! And just idiotic.

Wilbur can't go through with that, he'd lose everything. I will lose everything.

"I mean that the great power-hungry leader wants us dead. By us I mean anarchists." Techno frowned, lifting a gigantic clawed hand to scratch his furry chin. "Or maybe just us." He mumbled.

Schlatt swore he was gonna hyperventilate any minute. "You…", He cleared his throat. "You mean you and The Angel of Death–Philza?" 

"Yeah, wasn't that obvious?" Schlatt rolled his eyes at the oh-so clever remark. Okay wise guy. He noticed Techno staring, it seriously freaked him out. He couldn't blame him, he probably looked like a zombie with its flesh slowly rotting away. He had sunken cheekbones and extremely dark eyebags. His clothes were wet and torn compared to his shiny silky clothing that must've cost a fortune. It was a bit embarrassing.

He sniffed. "What? You like what you see or something?" Techno ignored his slurring words. He reached by him to grab the axe from the ground. This made Schlatt's breath hitch.

Techno carefully moved back, sensing the ram's discomfort. "You still haven't answered my question from earlier." The piglin was back to glaring, watching his every move, reading him.

"Yeah and you still never explained why this place is such a shith- '' Schlatt was stopped by an axe being shoved in his face. "No changin' the subject." Techno said warningly.

Schlatt shoved the axe away, which didn't really make much difference. He put a hand to his mouth to let out a sickly cough. "Hey I got it, now are you gonna interrupt me again?" 

Techno grunted in disgust, quickly putting the axe at his side. Sighing, he let him continue.

"Look, I was exiled, okay?" Schlatt slumped in defeat, he was too tired to even feel humiliated by what he had just admitted to him. "Happy?"

He waited for an answer, but the piglin gave that same emotionless look. God he hated it. It freaked him the fuck out. He heard his pal Philza was able to figure everything out about someone just by looking at them. He hoped this wasn't the case with Techno. Techno finally spoke in that monotone voice of his. "Why should I believe you?"

Schlatt's eye twitched. Believe–are you serious? "Hey, you asked for an answer and I fucking gave you one." He spat. Schlatt gestured to himself. "I mean look at me. I've been living in the goddamn wilderness for God's sake!" 

And now I'm stuck with you.

Techno made a face, like he had figured something out or was still currently putting something together, like recalling a memory. Schlatt started to sound desperate. "Come on man, I can't go back out there again." Because of how pathetic he was making himself, he was surprised Techno hadn't slaughtered him yet. He was asking for help from the fucking Blood God! He'd gone mad already.

Techno narrowed his eyes, ignoring his plea. "Was exiled, huh?" He said, repeating Schlatt's words. Schlatt nodded, uncertain about where this was going.

"I've seen you before." Techbo grabbed something out of his cloak.

Schlatt panicked. 

It was a small crumpled photo he held at the tips of his claws. "You're that guy from the poster, Ran for president, right?" Techno moved closer. No, no, no.

Schlatt shook his head in disagreement, but Techno didn't buy it, he only pressed on. He held the cut-up photo next to Schlatt. What he had was a cutout of his face, he didn't look malnourished like he did now, but it was very clear that it was him. "Yeah, Horns and all. It is you." Techno's expression grew dark with a toothy growl.

"I've heard lots of terrible things about you, Jschlatt."

Chapter Text

Hearing his name come out the mouth of the Blood God was sure going to give him nightmares for weeks.

So the piglin knew about him. No big deal. No big deal at all.

Lots of people know him, hybrids and all, and he's still managed to slip past all of them.

Yet it's not every day you see someone who hates your guts and is potentially somewhat of a god . From what he's been told.

Techno hid the photo back in his cloak, glaring down at him. Schlatt waved his hands to deny the accusation. Yes, it was true, but he panicked. "You've got the wrong guy!" Schlatt's movement grew clumsy as Techno invaded more of his personal space, his heel hitting the wall making him fall back onto it. "How about we talk about this?–"

Schlatt grunted in shock as techno grabbed him by the throat, but not hard enough to block his airway, slamming him hard against the wall. Techno bared his teeth, "You're nothing but a tyrant," he said harshly. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

Schlatt's head swayed, getting dizzy from the impact. He snickered, "God please do, I'd rather be anywhere else than with you, porky."

Techno looked at him, baffled at the ridiculing name. He gripped his neck harder. 

Schlatt stuttered as nails dug into him, "Joking! Joking, that was a joke." He coughed for air as Techno loosened his grip. Who knew the guy could be such a kill-joy.

Techno knew he was– wanted to be the president, but is that all? Was he going to strip his life away just because he made a few mistakes during that time? He wasn't even a part of society anymore. He wasn't…a part of anything. "Why kill me anyway? C'monnn, a guy like me? I'm just telling you I won't be any fun."

Techno couldn't help but feel disgusted on how the other acted.

"Everyone I know is against me now, I'm already living in my own hell." Saying it out loud really did damage to his ego, but it was the truth after all, wasn't it?

Schlatts teeth grinded against each other, his body becoming stiffer with every twitch of a muscle he felt from the piglins hand.

Schlatt kept his body as still as possible, fearing that a claw would puncture something. "So this is where you've been all this time? The great Blood God's humble abode? I imagined it would've been nicer." Schlatt teased. 

Techno huffed, "Oh, is that so?" He slammed Schlatt into the wall again. "Don't waste my time or I'll plunge the axe right through your skull."

Schlatt tensed, immediately regretting the discussion he had started. His breath quavered. Was the piglin that eager to have him killed? Surely not, or else Schlatt wouldn't be here listening to him right now.

Techno was amused by his reaction. "Or maybe...I could just keep you here as a prisoner, for as long as I want."  Schlatt frantically shook his head, Techno almost laughed, it was revolting. 

"You're sick in the head." 

"I'm aware of that. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your own sanity to form a better world." He said, puffing hot air in Schlatt's face.

"You understand that, don't you?"

Schlatt's voice was caught in his throat, he shook his head again. 

A short pause.

"If I were to kill you, Schlatt, where do you think you would go?"

The question caught him by surprise. 

Hopefully not wherever you're going .

Techno hummed, it was scarily casual. "I bet it's something worse than hell itself. Maybe it's simply, nothingness ."

"Whatever it is, I've sent more people there than I could count." Those eyes of his, there was no shine to them, no remorse. It made his stomach churn. It made Schlatt incredibly repulsed by the piglin.

How fucked up was this guy actually?

"You son of a bitch –do you know how fucked up that sounds?" He almost wanted to laugh. He had to admit he was quite astonished.

He wished it was an illusion, a trick of the mind, but the fucker looked proud . "Did you forget who I am? You really think I cared about morals whenever I came across someone like you ?" Techno's eyes are unnervingly sharp as he observes the ram.

No, I don't think you care about them at all. "You goddamn brute ." Schlatt squirmed in Techno's grasp, the eye contact being too much. "You can't just–"

"Oh but I did, very easily too." Techno bites out.

Techno glanced down at his axe, making Schlatt do the same. "You see this Axe?" He shoved it closer towards Schlatt's throat. "I bet it can kill you in one blow in just seconds." His voice dripped with malice.

"You'd be nothin' but a fly." Techno leaned closer for intimidation.

The pigs eyes widened, big and brown, staring deep into Schlatt's.

" Poof ."

Schlatt tried to ignore the threatening manner. "Then why haven't you?" Schlatt challenged, straining to keep his eyes locked on the piglin. Keeping his composure.

Techno froze. "Pardon?"

It wasn't adding up, Techno was able to bring down wars, thousands of people, in days. "Why didn't you just get it over with then? You could've killed me the moment you knew it was me. Or even just saw me"

There was a pause, considering his words, Schlatt went on. "But you didn't." Schlatt huffed, sounding doubtful, "Is it money? No, it can't be. A guy like you wouldn't need something like that." Schlatt thought for a moment. "Or is it that you prefer to wait until we get some words in just to seem generous?"

Techno looked away from him. "I have my reasons." Ah, so he was avoiding the question.

"And what are those exactly? I mean, if you're gonna kill me, you might as well tell me." Schlatt chuckled humorlessly.

Techno didn't say anything. His frightening demeanor was thinning.

After a moment, Schlatt asked, "Are you...hesitant about something?" He was getting somewhere, but what ? What was Techno hesitant about not to kill him?

That definitely hit a nerve as Techno struck the axe into the wall inches away from Schlatt's horn, causing him to wince. It was so uncalled for, Schlatt was positive his suspicion was gonna end up becoming false. 

" You don't need to know anything ," Techno snarled. "There is no need for this inquisition."

Schlatt's heart quickened, the axe really put him on edge. "Hey, easy, I got it alright?" The last thing he wanted was to get the big guy pissed off.

Techno relaxed, getting rid of his scowl, partially anyway.

Did Techno know something he didn't? 

Schlatt looked around, Techno's arm was occupied keeping the axe stuck in the wall. This was his chance.

Schlatt kept talking as he lifted up his knee, "No inquisitions here…" he aimed his leg in-between Techno's two legs, careful not to let him notice. "Sorry about this pal." Techno couldn't get a reaction in before he kicked him in the groin, hard . Techno groaned, falling to the ground instantly, releasing Schlatt off the wall. 

Techno wheezed as he bent over in pain, his hand releasing the axe over to his stomach for support. "You bastard…" He croaked.

Schlatt knew it was a dirty move, but it was all he could think of. It was self defense. He took this opportunity to make a run for it, now free from the suffocating hold.

Schlatt kept bumping into or knocking over objects with his sides, forming bruises that he couldn't bother to worry about. He had too much adrenaline in him now. All he could focus on was getting the fuck out of here .

He wasn't looking where he was going as he stepped on a sharp piece of glass that gashed right through his foot, forcing him to scream until his vocals grew hoarse. 

He dropped to the floor clutching his foot. It was excruciating, but he couldn't afford to waste anymore time. Stifling a sob, he got on his knees to quickly reach for the shard. 

Grabbing it with his bare hand, the sharp sides cut through soft tissue. After a few unpleasant tugs and pulls, he finally ripped it out. Warm red blood gushed out of the wound, leaving it badly swollen.

Blood stained the wooden floor.

blood .

Its coppery scent filled the air, finding its way to Techno's snout.

Schlatt jumped when he heard a roar coming from where Techno was located. It sounded so… animalistic . 

He whipped his head behind him, checking in case he saw the brute following him. Loud huffs could be heard from the piglin just down the hall. That's when the silhouette of Techno creeped out into view. Eyes glowing pure red, no pupils to be found.

Schlatt cried out in alarm, jumping back. He got back up to limp for the wooden door, wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

Pushing the door open, his stance faltered from the rushing wind hitting his trembling body. It was dark out now, making it harder to see from the snowstorm. Running out of the house, he spotted a trap door next to the deck covered in snow. He desperately scurried over to it, lifting it up and locking himself inside.

Inside he saw the small space's only light source came from a single lit torch. Climbing down, Schlatt stopped. He let go of the ladder once he got close to the ground, dropping himself on the floor exhausted. He laid there on the freezing cobblestone panting for breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

If he stays here any longer, he's sure he's going to die.

Stomping from above made his head snap up, the piglin was still up there. 

He quietly stepped back, making little noise as he made his way to the corner of the room.

He still wasn't sure what Techno wanted from him. If he did want anything at all to begin with. Nothing has really been confirmed about the way he acted. He was an odd individual. Presumably, people thinking you're a god will do that to you.

Schlatt was worn out, yet wasn't tired enough to sleep. He couldn't sleep, not with all the grunting and growling above him. Not with some homicidal pig waiting to kill him.

More footsteps were heard. They were distant this time.

Then they were gone.

He'll have to wait here until morning.

Chapter Text

He must've dozed off at some point eventually.

Warm yellow rays wafting through make their way past the cracks of the trapdoor, hitting Schlatt's face. The morning sun was now visible, though the low temperature stayed the same. He flinched from the sudden light, eyes blinking awake.

Once his vision became more focused as he observed his surroundings, eyes with reddened scleras that were weary with sleep.

Cobblestone, it was all cobblestone. He squinted his eyes, now that confused him. The floor felt hard beneath him. Cold and scratchy to the touch. It was nothing like the warm soft bed that he was so used to. 

His memory finally clicked. Drowsiness started to vanish from him as he became more aware of his surroundings. He let his arms help sit himself off the floor. The motion made him realize the ache in his body from the position he slept in.

He remembered hiding here during the night, it was clearly day. How long has he been here? 

He slumped back against the wall. He sat there, possibly far longer than he wanted to, or should've. Like he was contemplating whether or not to go up there again.

Just how long does he plan on lingering here? Not forever, that's for sure . He exhaled, trying to get his body to let go of all the tension. For all he knows, Techno could be waiting for him up there right now. Pacing around, stalking him. Like a wild boar ready to charge at you . Shortly after, Schlatt groaned, clutching onto his head. He could feel a migraine beginning to form.

He felt like shit. His leg felt like shit, everything felt like shit . His injury from the glass hadn't healed but it stopped bleeding. It was definitely infected, it felt like he was being scorched by fire with every muscle movement from the knee down.

His eyes moved to the ladder. It was a few feet away on the opposite side of him. The thought of getting up and walking to that thing, seemed almost impossible, and just aggravating.

Exhausted, Schlatt put an arm over his eyes and sighed, he'd have to get out of here eventually. 

Taking a deep breath to brace for the pain, he lifted himself up, putting most of his weight on the other leg for support. His body became strained, having the pain shoot up his injured leg with that unforgettable burning sensation.

His body couldn't keep it up. Seconds after he lost balance and dropped to his knees. The impact was like a shock to his spine. He yelled in distress and frustration, his body just wasn't listening to him. "Move, damnit !" With more force he uncoiled himself, making his legs wobble in the process and his face contort in pain.

Still using his good leg to hold him up, he limped to the other side of the enclosed space. Composing himself, he made his way to the ladder, clinging onto it with a firm hold. 

Jschlatt made his way up the ladder. He'll get away from here, far, far away from here. Maybe find a nearby village, he could hide his identity, anything to keep away from these maniacs.

They know who he was now, they know how much of an easy target he is out there alone. What if Techno's out there –no, he can't have this pig torment him every second. Making him look behind his back every day like a madman. He has to hurry.

He pushed open the trapdoor, making it - thump - onto the snow. He peeked his head out of his hiding spot, looking around. It hurt his eyes to adjust to the change of brightness, having been in a dimly lit room for so long. He finally crawled out.

It took a few steps to get himself to stand upright. Schlatt became rigid as melted snow went through the hole in his shoe.

"Mother fff–" he quickly bit his lip, his knuckles cracked from the clenching frustration he put on them as the word barely escaped his lips. He was trying to keep his cool, he wasn't going to risk making any noise to alert the beast who lives here.

After keeping silent with a few glances here and there within his surroundings, he placed a foot back.

And then another.

And another.

Until he got far away enough to turn and start sprinting .

As if on impulse, he headed straight for the woods. He climbed over the fence, almost toppling over from his desperation to get away. He was starting to breathe heavily, the vapor from his breath very clear in the air. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or physical exertion. During this time, not once did he ever look back.

Reaching a good few feet into the wooded forest, he stops running, tripping over his own footing as he slows himself down. He had his arms extended with one out in front of him to break his fall just in case he slipped onto the thick blanket of snow.

In all his life he never would have thought he'd be so glad to be around trees again. 

It felt almost freeing, he escaped the Blood God for crying out loud. How often do you come across someone who's ever accomplished such a thing? None, because they were all probably completely fucking dead .

Except for him, of course. He wasn't sure if that was exactly a good thing.

Whatever Techno's intentions were that made him keep him alive for so long, he didn't want to know. Now that he's gotten away, the next time he sees Schlatt he's sure he'll give him a fate worse than death.

That itself terrifies him.

Who wouldn't be terrified?

Schlatt looked down at himself. The clothing he'd been wearing for days was crinkled and ruined, with a few rips scattered along it.

He really could've at least stolen a cloak or something while he was back there. His body was shaking violently, muscles too stiff to move quicker.

His body was way overdue from being dead

Chapter Text

Schlatt gasped, his eyes shooting wide open.

He could feel his eyelids move, no longer closed to block his sight, yet he couldn't see anything. It was just emptiness. His eyes filcked around hoping for something to look at, a touch of light, a figure, something.

Where was he?

Schlatt tried to move his body but it wouldn't budge, he was stuck. His limbs were inclosed tightly into his torso, like some sort of invisible force was keeping him from moving.

He could feel his bones grinding into each other, it was as if they were readjusting in an unusual way. They continued until it felt like his muscles would burst from the pressure. 

He tried to yell but there was no sound sent to his ears, though he could feel his throat grow sore from the effort. 

Schlatt felt his body contort, his joints moving the opposite direction. It was agonizing. Hot searing pain shot through his body as his spine twisted in unbearable ways, causing a rib into puncturing a lung. He tried to move, his body unresponsive. It was too much, the horrid burning feeling flooded his senses. If he could scream he would. 

His neck twisted backwards. His uncontrollable sobbing stopped immediately. God, how was he not dead?

Please, let me go.

Schlatt's arms and legs snapped back into place, along with the rest of his mangled anatomy. It was a slow and painful process. 

The feeling finally relinquished. 

Schlatt stayed still. 

The smell of pine filled his lungs again. Schlatt jolted upright. 

His hands instinctively went to his chest.

Goddamn nightmares.

Schlatt was sat in a cave. A few days had passed since his first encounter with Techno. Sense then he's gone back to hunting on his own, keeping warm was a struggle considering all he could find was damp wood. 

Schlatt made his way out from under the rocks.

His injured foot had been hurting like hell. Schlatt, having little to no experience with wounds, had no idea how to treat it. It was definitely infected by now, by how the injury had black coloration around it. The best he could do to keep it from giving him too much pain was wash it and wrap it in a cloth he had to rip off.

Each step felt like stepping into lava and ice at the same time.

He trudged through both slushed and heavy mud covered snow. He grabbed onto branches he walked past to help guide him. The fog left over from the downpour made it harder for him to know where he was going. There was no compass to assure his coordination.

It wasn't a big issue. Not a big issue at all.

He'll be fine. 

Schlatt stopped walking instead, having his hands grasp at his hair, sharp nails digging into his scalp. Causing soft, damp skin to tear with beads of blood surfacing through. He could feel sweat secreting from all parts of his body, making him itch.

He was fine.

Letting his anger get the best of him, he turned and kicked a tree beside him. Kicking it repeatedly until it hurts. Bits of dirt and snow flew when the kicks grew too sloppy, hitting the ground at times. Eventually, he started to tire down and all that was left were kicks that turned into uneven jabs, then nothing.

Okay, maybe he wasn't fine.

He collapsed onto the tree from exhaustion, using his arms to prop him up and keep him from sliding down. " Fucking shit !" He choked out. It hurt like a bitch to talk, he could feel the lump in his throat growing even bigger.

Schlatt wasn't even sure if he was angry or scared at the moment, stressed maybe. Hell, probably all of the above. 

To make it even worse, he was crying . He didn't even notice it or when it started to happen. It was like every emotion he felt came back to him. The anxiety, the hatred. Everything. 

He was exhausted with everything. The loss of the election, the manhunts, even the attempted assassinations from people who disagreed with his cause. Everything . 

Sometimes he wished he hadn't been so angry. Just sometimes. He wanted these emotions to just stop . To stop feeling so hateful towards others, but at the same time, he couldn't. He wanted to feel that hate. They deserved it, they still do. That hate was what made him feel powerful, made him feel better than everyone. It's what gave him the confidence to go against his candidates. To spite them, make them feel like they're below him.

Maybe that's why he hated Techno, even more now. Even feared him, but he didn't like admitting that. Techno made him feel…

Powerless.

It was so hard to get through to him. To scare him. Make him feel any emotion other than boredom or annoyance. Even if he could, it's not like he could do anything, Techno was still stronger than Schlatt. More experienced. Having been in many more arguments than him. He knew when to know he was being manipulated into something. Schlatt had to be more careful with him.

Schlatt wiped his face with his dampened sleeve, taking in a deep breath. He scrunched his face a few times, trying to form it as if to pretend like nothing had happened. Because nothing did, whatever that was, it was nothing, it was done with.

"Pull yourself together." He said to himself. He turned to have only one hand leaning on the tree trunk, thinking for a moment. Trying to distract himself. He started to feel better when he slowly recollected his thoughts.

He let his head fall limply on the tree. All these new issues of his were making him so goddamn depressing.

A loud rumbling groan was heard behind him.

His eyes widened.

Fuck !

Schlatt turned so quickly he could hear his neck crack from the motion. Cold hands clung to his face, he yelled in shock. He grabbed at the hands trying to wrench them free. The flesh felt so uneasily soft to the touch, almost like when an apple begins to rot.

Zombie !

He clawed at the zombies seemingly stretchy skin, cringing at how it was so easy to slash open. He could feel his nail scrape into the bone not even seconds later. It was probably one of the those zombies that would stay under trees to be hidden from the sunlight. 

The zombie groaned louder. Schlatt gagged. God, its breath smelled bad. He probably smelled like decaying corpses already. The zombie's weight was becoming too much, it was like pounds of meat were getting stacked on top of him. Moldy yellow teeth snapped at him as they got closer to what they could blindly make out to be its prey.

Schlatt was losing his grip. His arms were growing tired. He was straining to just keep from being bitten. He screamed out in pain as chipped nails managed to find their way to scratch his chin. Snarls and groans grew louder.

The zombie was inching closer. Schlatt stepped back until he bumped into the same tree from earlier. His jaw was hurting from clenching it too long and his chin stinged.

He was gonna die ! 

Just when his body was about to give in he heard the flapping of wings.

His eyes, which he hadn't noticed he was keeping shut, opened wide. Schlatt looked in front of him to see the zombie was no longer snarling, but instead had its mouth hung open, making a low hissing noise.

He looked down and what Schlatt saw made him hold his breath. He felt like he was going to puke.

A sword was right through its throat, impaling it. The sword retracted and Schlatt watched the zombie drop limply onto the snow. He stood back as its body spasmed once before becoming stiff, unmoving as dark spoiled blood stained the ground from within its neck.

Who could've done this? Schlatt wanted to look up, to maybe thank the man who saved him, but he was glued to his spot. Too afraid to move. He must've been in shock. His stomach lurched, but before anything happened he brought a bloodied hand to his mouth, bending over in a jerking movement. It was enough to stop whatever almost came out of him to stay. 

"guhhg–" He put his hands down to then have them lean on his knees. He felt sick. He heard snow crunching and a shadow shortly loomed over him.

"You okay there, mate?" The voice was gentle and sounded genuinely concerned. It…it was weird having anyone have that kind of tone with Schlatt. 

Schlatt wanted to know who the voice belonged to.

So he looked up.

His vision was dizzy, all he could make out was the silhouette of what seemed to be a person. Or…mostly one. This one had wings. Huge wings.

He imagined he looked pathetic. Having drool run down his injured chin, shaking like some wet dog with blood that reeked covering him, all while looking up at the figure. 

Schlatt's eyesight grew clear and he swore he almost jumped out of his skin, but instead he fell back on his ass, still feeling nauseated. He could feel the cold grime beginning to cling to the fabric of his trousers. 

Philza. 

Schlatt scrambled up from the ground. His footing was wrong and he ended up tripping over the corpse. Fuck .

"Woah, hey there!" Philza stopped him from going anywhere by blocking him with his wings. He did manage to catch his fall caused by the zombie. Schlatt fought to get away, to run, but the guy's grip on him was strong . He struggled even more. "You're a little shaken up, mate. Deep breaths." 

Schlatt couldn't fucking breath, he was so confused and this was stressing him the fuck out.

Philza bent down to his eye level. "Hey, hey. Look at me." Schlatt tried to, but he couldn't help but move his eyes frantically anywhere but at him. 

"Shite…what happened to you? This couldn't have just been the zombie, right?" Schlatt shook with anger now. An unfamiliar hand went dangerously up close to his face, finally he could comprehend something.

"Get the fuck off me!" He slapped Philza's hand away. Even though he kept a face full of anger He instantly regretted what he'd done. Oh shit. Bad idea, bad idea.

Philza stood there, dumbfounded. He then calmly nodded, standing upright. "Alright, I'll go stand over here, okay?" Schlatt was incredibly exasperated by this man's actions. He must not know who he was? Doesn't he realize they're not that far away from his own home? He could've found that at least a little suspicious?

Schlatt fell back down beside the tree trunk, too mentally drained to psychoanalyze anything.

He breathed in. Finally, a full intake of breath, cold, but better than the rest so far. And then exhale.

He continued this until he was left to just sit there in silence.

Well, a really short silence.

"You'll freeze out here, you know that, right?" He could feel Philza eyeing him. "You have no armor, no weapons to defend yourself. You could've been killed . Don't you understand that?"

Schlatt just wheezed out a laugh. "Whatever you say." His throat hurt to speak.

Philza just scoffed.

There was a long pause. Schlatt started to shiver again. He pulled his legs up to his chest.

"What is a businessman like yourself doing all the way out here?" Philza questioned. The guy was still watching Schlatt like some kind of hawk. He doesn't think he's blinked once.

Schlatt gave a sarcastically cheeky smile towards him. "Long story." He turned away and switched back on his frown. He was getting irritated by the staring. Schlatt hid his face behind his knees in a way to try and avoid it.

Before he could make a remark about the constant staring and to maybe stop it, Philza beat him with yet another question. 

"Are you hiding something?" Was what he asked.

Schlatt felt himself flinch. "The fuck did you say?"

"I said, are you hiding something?" Schlatt was fully looking at him this time. Philza took that as an opportunity to continue. "You seem to like hiding your face a lot. It was hard for me to get a good look, that's all."

"Oh…" So that's what's with the staring.

"Sorry if it's a strange question, you just don't strike me as the type to be self-conscious about their face." He paused to think. "Maybe I'm wrong."

"Yeah, guess so." He was beginning to catch on, he just knew it.

He must have been shaking for a while because Philza was starting to look worried. Or annoyed. His wings were folded neatly behind him as he stood up to walk up to him. It gave Schlatt a better view of him. He was dressed in cloaks that were all sorts of different green shades, maybe that was why he looked so calm in this weather.

He grabbed one and pulled it off him, holding out an arm out and gesturing it towards where Schlatt sat.

Schlatt glared at it. 

"Here, it's for you. You've been shaking the whole time I've been here." He held it out closer to him.

Schlatt smirked. "I don't need your charity, asshole–"

Philza leaned down, until he was a foot close to Schlatt's face. Which was too close for comfort. Schlatt scooted back nervously.

Philza smiled, but the smile was a bit off. More chilling this time. Almost the same as his encounter with Techno but so much more threatening. "It wasn't an offer, mate." 

Schlatt could feel himself growing smaller. Just for a second, that might've just been the true Angel of Death he was talking to.

Schlatt caught the cloak clumsily as Philza let go of it. He walked back to where he was and went back to his peaceful state.

Schlatt held on to it, not knowing what the fuck just happened at that moment. He quickly put on the cloak. Good thing it was already warmed up by the previous owner.

He looked back at Philza. He wasn't watching him this time. Is he just going to stay there? What does he want?

"I'm shocked you were able to escape Techno so easily." Phil said it so calmly that Schlatt had to replay in his mind what he had said, In case he heard wrong.

There it is. He knew.

Schlatt felt like time stopped right there.

It was just the two, and there was nowhere Schlatt could escape. 

Not this time.

Chapter Text

Schlatt stepped away from the anarchist. The mood drastically changed back to what it was previously. Schlatt could feel himself cowering from the winged man, making himself appear slightly smaller like how some animals would do to keep away from anything that was deemed dangerous.

He pulled on the cloak Philza had given him. It was the only comfort he had at the moment, the only thing keeping him warm.

How could Philza have possibly known? He just escaped, it didn't happen long enough for him to know. He wasn't there! He was sure he wasn't. "How did you–" Philza waved a hand before his turmoil could consume him.

"Oh don't worry, it's not like you're in trouble or anything." He didn't sound so convincing.

"With me, anyway."

He paused to let out a sigh, Schlatt could tell he sounded a little defeated. "Techno, on the other hand…" He slowly cautioned.

Schlatts feels his lip tighten and his tail swish small and frantically under the fabric of his clothing, fearful at the name.

"But don't worry." Philza quickly adds, reading his body language. "I'm not going to bring you to him." Schlatt's tense shoulders hardly lowered.

"I'm actually trying to do the opposite." That sentence made Schlatt's ears perk up. He couldn't be hearing this right.

Schlatt looked at him confused but also with more intrigued interest. Hopefully not enough to cause distractions and false hope. "No worrying here…" he drawled out.

He heard the flapping of wings nearby. He didn't know where from as there were no birds to be seen in any tree close to him.

Phil turned his body away from him. Schlatt watched as he crouched down just slightly. He could hear him begin to whisper something, but very faintly. Schlatt wasn't sure if the whispering was to himself or someone else. Oh God almighty, don't tell me he's batshit too.

He had heard many stories about him being able to talk to spirits, or things that were disguised to not look of what they actually were. He wondered if it was what he was doing now, but if so, why? 

Schlatt's eyes flicked down at the now completely dead zombie's corpse, which lay by the side of him. Its mouth was open, and emitted horrible foul breath. It stenched of stale blood that was already beginning to clump up.

Having little experiences with encounters with zombies and such, it sure was…a sight to behold. 

His ears flicked impatiently, eyes darting at the man before him. He waited until Philza stopped whatever he was doing so he could grab his full attention.

After he heard nothing else and Philza returned to his normal posture, he felt himself swallow nervously. 

"I know who you are, you know." He spoke abruptly and as ill-mannered as he could muster.

Philza tilted his head to the right until his eyes met Schlatt's, observing the ram.

"The things you've done." Schlatt started as he grimaced, "You and Techno." 

Philza's eyes widened attentively, not expecting Schlatt's sudden remarks. He hummed to himself, scratching his chiseled beard. "I see."

"What makes you so sure you know about me? Those books they tell about us don't get the full picture, you know." Philza turns to hold their gazes evenly. "We're not just some monsters who kill so blindly."

Schlatt stared daggers into him. They followed the Angel of Death's every move, as if to pinpoint any falseness in him.

All those towns, kingdoms, filled with people who could've been useful to this world. Lost. All because they didn't agree with some, what? political views? It did sound monstrous. Just a big fat excuse to do whatever they wanted because they could. If they want to believe they did it for the better, then fine. Whatever helps them sleep at night.

He wanted so badly to punch him, gain the urge to scratch his eyes out, to do anything that would knock some sense into him. Look him in the eyes and dare say to him,

Yeah right.

The conversation was getting more serious now. "Then why do they describe you in such a way, huh?" He didn't wait for Philza to give an answer. He jerked forward, teeth grinding. "So fearful and hated–you–you fuckin' became a horror story for some children. If you were really heroes–"

"I never said we were–"

Schlatt cut him off. He looked away shrugging."If anything, I'd say you enjoyed it." He retorted with taunting behavior.

Philza didn't seem to like that one bit, he looked fucking ticked now. His chin tilted up, his calm demeanor beginning to break. "If anything… '' His voice was steady, seeping with acid. Schlatt's attention was back on him. He was sure that if Phil spoke anymore his face would surely melt off somehow. "I'd say it'd make you like us."

Schlatt stilled, taken aback.

"Like you?" He scoffs in disbelief.

"We both strive to make a better world, Schlatt." Schlatt refused to reason with him. To even think –

"Just what we ourselves assumed was the right way to do it." Philza's expression held a deeper meaning to it now. It was a flicker of regret he saw in those eyes.

To be able to see only an ounce of what the Angel of Death looked like when vulnerable at this moment, it made his gut wrench.

Schlatt couldn't help but to really put thought into it.

Was he like them in a way? 

No, instead he was trying to bring peace to L'manberg, he wasn't like them. No one was like them. They were fucking savages, living all the way out here just isolated from everyone. Just waiting for the next town to conquer. Unlike them, Schlatt didn't run around massacring people for respect or to get his point across. He was at least acceptable in some areas. Enough to actually get him some good votes back then.

Yet again, being a decent human being doesn't matter much in politics.

Though he was better than them. He had to be.

"Enough of that." Philza had gotten rid of the harsh tone, instead to sound more serene. He probably noticed how bothered Schlatt was.  

Schlatt's face twitched, either from humiliation or annoyance at the guy's insight.

He didn't even realize how little space they had when arguing until Phil backed up. 

"There's a village not too far up south from here." Philza stated.

Schlatt blinked up at him, erasing his hard stare.

"Keep this on." Philza walked up to Schlatt to tidy his cloak he had given him, Schlatt's expression uncharacteristically stunned by the sudden gesture. "If you don't, they'll recognize you."

Schlatt gaped at him, trying to stutter out some sort of–question? Denial that we might've in fact been a wanted man? Philza was impassive towards his reaction. "Yes, I do know about your situation, Schlatt. I do think it's best to keep a low profile, especially around here." It was like he was genuinely trying to help him, but that was incredibly hard to believe, and unlikely. Philza wanted something in return, didn't he.

But Schlatt couldn't stop himself from asking anyway.

"Why are you…" he hesitantly spoke.

Philza "Oh you think I'm just going to let you escape? Let you wander off who knows where and let you be?" Of course, Schlatt knew it wouldn't be that easy, that was obvious. So then why? Why was he doing this?

"Christ no." Phil answered himself. "We still have things to talk about, you and I." Schlatt waited for him to explain what he meant. Of course no explanation came.

How long until he knew what the hell was going on, ever?

"Techno just…isn't doing the best right now, and so I, I don't want any stress to come over him." Philza faltered.

Stress? How fucking considerate of him. I'm sure whatever it is, Techno can handle it. Schlatt was the one who had to put up with his pig bullshit.

He still had so many questions though.

Philza took notice of Schlatt's confusion. "You see, Techno doesn't do best at keeping his emotions to himself as much as you may think."

Oh really ? He found that hard to believe. The guy is like a walking statue. The only emotion you get out of him is annoyance. Or…a murderous rampage.

Schlatt shuddered from the memory.

"So," he leaned down until he was level with Schlatt again.

"I want you, in the meantime, to stay away." He glowered at him. "Understood?"

Schlatt huffed, making the toothiest, most fakest smile ever. "No biggie." He hated feeling so compliant to someone, especially to someone like Phil.

Phil sighed, very upset but with a voice too worn out to express it, "You have no idea the trouble you caused, Schlatt."

What did that mean ? There was no way Schlatt hurt Techno's feelings that badly.

A few crows landed on the snow beside them, walking in the direction Philza was currently standing. Others sat on tree branches. Their heads moved rapidly in a robotic-like way. Was it normal for this many birds to appear in this climate? 

Where the fuck did they come from ?

Another snap was heard from behind him.

Schlatt's stance was as firm as possible.

The one from before. He thought it was imaginary. Where in hell was it coming from? With panic rising, he asked, "Did you hear that? Damnit, please tell me you heard that."

Philza's eyes danced around in an effort to find out what he meant. He looked back at him, confused. "Sorry, mate. I'm not sure what you're referring to?" The man chuckled, fucking chuckled at him.

Schlatt's ears moved down both in defense and in embarrassment. "The fuck's so funny?" 

Philza gave a stupid shit-eating grin for a moment, then back to a concerned look. "Oh nothing, just–are you alright?''

Schlatt was about to snap at him again. "What? Of course I am. I thought I heard–"

Another snap.

Schlatt looked up, down, he looked everywhere. There was still no one else around.He didn't even notice Phil was walking up to him again, he couldn't. He probably looked like a complete phsyco trying to find the noise.

Schlatt had his hands on his head, they started to claw at his horns. What was wrong with him?

"Schlatt tell me what's going on." Phil's own voice was too quiet, faded out by his own mind.

Crows were surrounding them, possibly more than fifty. All with tiny pitch black eyes.

There was something wrong about this place. Schlatt didn't know what, but it made him want to claw his ears off. 

One of the things that the stories had gotten wrong was Philza didn't talk to spirits, he talked to crows. They understood him and so did he with them. They're the ones who do all the dirty work for him. The perfect specimen for spying on others, one no one would suspect. It was even told they could see things a normal human can't. 

Can the crows hear it? Please, I'm not crazy am I?

A slap was felt on the side of his face, breaking him out of his trance. His limbs fought for balance from the sudden impact left on his skin. A hand rubbed where his teeth now buzzed. He was fully conscious again, he was pissed again. The realization made him snarl.

"Did you just slap me?" 

"Oh don't look at me like that, It wasn’t that hard!" Schlatt looked away with the same expression, still holding his face which now had a red mark. 

Schlatt noticed Phil as his hand twitched toward him in a worried manner. "Or...was it?"

His hand twitched away. "Look," Phil slid the same hand down his face, clearly stressed. "I don't know what that was but you were nearly seconds away from ripping your ears off, okay?" By the way Phil's nostrils flared and his hands moved in rapid movements he could tell the man was angry, maybe even a little frightened.

Whatever they both had just experienced was something neither of them had ever witnessed. It was eerie, especially for Phil, having been a man who was known to have explored many times in his life. 

Phil was hesitant, "What...Look, Schlatt if you need any help–if theres something bothering you we–" 

"Don't" Schlatt immediately  stopped him. Whatever happened he did not want Phil to be a part of it.

Thankfully, he listened. "Fine."

"Just–" Philza's arms moved to a crossed position. 

"When you get to the village don't even bother hiding, Schlatt. I'll know where you are." Phil warned. Schlatt watched him as he stepped back carefully, checking his surroundings. Schlatt wasn't surprised by how easy it was to dismiss the problem. None of them would know what to do anyway.

Once Phil had enough space, he opened his wings. They were clearer now, with feathers that were an iridescent sheen of purples and greens, shimmering from the faint light reflecting off of them. Similar to a crow or a raven.

"The crows will make sure of that." Schlatt was thrown off by how ominous that sounded.

"Wait–"

Don't leave me here.

The flapping of wings overtook his vision and hearing. Philza was already soaring above him, with his crows following close. Strong winds blew which rattled the trees. It was enough to make him lopsided until he fell on one knee.

Unshielded his face with his arms after the pressure had stopped, he peeked around the area. He was gone, almost as if he was never there.

He was alone again. Left to fend for himself.

Then there on the ground he noticed something, glowing a deep rich purple.

Phil had left him a netherite sword. 

Chapter Text

The day was sunnier than usual, well, sunnier than the days he's been here. Even though clouds still covered most of the sky It wasn't as bad. It was nice to no longer have any snow falling on him for the time being, he believes he wouldn't be able to handle another hour of having to deal with that again. He'll have to, it's bound to happen soon enough whether he likes it or not. The radiation of the sun managed to dry his clothes that had to endure so much horrible weather. The area was also clearer, with the fog dissipating.

Schlatt dragged the netherite sword across the snow leaving trail marks. How could some people lift these with such ease? Especially in battle they made it look so easy.

He continues to walk in the direction Phil told him to go when he left. Hopefully the village won't be too far from here. Schlatt winces as he feels his stomach growl, he realizes he hasn't eaten in a while. Maybe the place has a tavern he could go to. He was reminded of his clothing, scrunching his nose in disgust. Along with a bath…

He looks down at the netherite sword. It would be difficult to try and hunt with this thing, let alone defend himself. He remembers the cold dead hands clinging to him from before, rotten teeth and gums eaten by maggots coming close to his face ready to bite it off. It makes him feel ill. Schlatt touches his face instinctively. He wishes it won't come to that.

A shriek followed by the sound of multiple fast beating wings getting louder and louder made Schlatt jump. Crows landed behind him, just a few this time. 

He had almost forgotten about them.

Schlatt tried to shoo them away with one arm dismissively, but all that seemed to do was startle the crows to move and go to a new spot further from him.

Schlatt grumbled under his breath, glaring at them for a few seconds before going back on his journey. Phil could've at least warned him he'd be having his little chaperones come along with him. His shoulders tensed in frustration. Could've maybe warned me better about anything, really.

He heard more flapping. This time it was more dangerously close above his head.

Confused, he lifted his chin, instantly regretting it as–

"CAW"

A horrified bleating noise came out of him from the impact, throwing up his arms to his face, blindly swinging in defense with an attempt to hit whatever attacked him. Opening his eyes into slits he could make out what were slick black wings covering his vision, he could only guess it was a crow that had flown straight into his face.

Was it fucking blind or something?

Finally getting a good grip on the bird's delicate leg, having it give a piercing screech, Schlatt plunged it into the ground. The bird jostled and scuttered on the snow before shaking it's feathers to fix itself back to it's regular state after the harsh fall.

The other crows didn't seem to like what he'd done.

"What the–" More birds blocked his way, squawking and cawing at him, the noise being too much to bear with them being awfully close. He continued to shield his face from their surprisingly sharp beaks that repeatedly pecked and pulled at his skin and clothing. 

Schlatt could feel his body heat up as he began to fume. He swung his arms with just enough momentum to scare the crows away, "Get off of me!" He snapped. The birds finally listened after a few more quick pecks, carefully landing on the ground to then step aside for Schlatt to walk by.

Even though they'd stopped fighting, they still had that harsh look in their eyes. Schlatt didn't enjoy how visible he felt under them. 

He pointed a jagged finger at one closest to him, "Hey, do not look at me like that. It's not my fault your friend here"– he gestured to the bird from earlier–"has a broken wing or whatever the fuck's wrong with it!" 

The crow's head tilted, watching him. Schlatt opened his mouth, stuttering a few times before closing it again when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

They stared at each other, both probably realizing they couldn't fucking understand each other. And that they were both entirely different fucking species with entirely different fucking mental capacities.

"I'm talking to a bird." Schlatt deadpanned. He let out a short breath of laughter, close to a wheeze. He felt like he was going insane. "I'm talking to a–a–piece of shit bird!" His voice increasing in volume made the crow jump back, flinching it's wings open before settling down again.

After calming down his heavy breathing caused by the outburst, Schlatt held up his wrists to examine the sleeves of his cloak. He huffed in annoyance at the sight of small holes formed in them. "Great. Just when I thought my clothes couldn't get any more shitty." He rolled the sleeves up revealing his business attire to yank on his white cuffs as if to "fix" them. 

Schlatt Bent down to grab the handle of the netherite sword, which had fallen out of his grasp after the sudden scare.

He looked to the bird who he had thrown to the ground, leaving it with a noticeable limp. The bird flicked it's head to him. When it came towards him it did it in uneven hops each time. Some hops were quick and easy while others were slow and choppy leaving it to topple.

It was almost freakishly unsettling. Having a bird of all things still come towards you like some, puppet. So committed for whatever reason even when it's badly injured. 

What did Philza do to these things…

Was it their own free will for them to be behaving like this? Did they even have any sense of self to them?

Schlatt hadn't realized the bird stood moved closer until he saw a black blur from the corner of his eye. His breath took a sharp intake of breath at the sight.

Clearing his throat, he awkwardly angled his head down. His voice almost betrayed him with a stutter, "What?"

The bird kept swaying and needed to catch itself from falling a few times before it, finally, couldn't take anymore. The bird trilled softly before it went unmoving on the snow, but it wasn't in a natural way. No, it was as stiff as a statue, its body just seized. Schlatt was starting to think he hit it too hard.

Its eyes rolled all the way back into it's head. Schlatt knew crows eyes couldn't move like those of a person, but he swore this one did. He could've sworn he saw white sclera flick back to black. It stayed in this sort of state for a while. Long enough to believe whatever that was was done. Schlatt wanted so badly to go down and touch it, to figure out what the fuck happened, but then it started to jitter. 

Schlatt, feeling overly apprehensive, took his hand back as he could only watch as its body convulsed in ways no one would ever consider normal.

The beak of the bird opened and closed continuously, making broken noises he never thought a bird could make. It bobbed its head like it had something lodged in its throat. Something that didn't belong, something it needed to get back out.

Schlatt couldn't stop watching as morbid curiosity overcame him. The bird moved more violently this time with its beak opened farther apart. Schlatt could see it now, he could see what the issue was. 

With watery eyes, and giving one last final jolting cough, the bird threw up what looked like a letter. It was folded neatly and covered in the bird's own mucus and blood.

After that the struggle stopped, it's body immediately laying limp, fully limp this time. Just like a puppet cut from its strings. Eyes frozen staring at nothing. Forced to lay in a pool of its own blood that the snow began to soak in.

"Good God…"

Schlatt stood through the whole thing. He watched the bird die in a way that was too slow and gruesome, one that a pathetic creature like itself probably didn't even deserve. 

He brought his wavering hand back towards the bird, edging his way towards it until his hand was within range of the letter. He snatched his hand that was holding the letter back as if going anywhere near the bird would cause a burn on him. More like a disease.

With unsteady hands he unfolded the paper, physically flinching when he read the knowingly horrific name to who the paper belonged to.

Hello, Schlatt. Did the bird surprise you? If it did, that's what I hoped for. I don't usually use my crows for such self-indulgent tendencies. Thought I'd make some sort of…impression. I wouldn't want you to think of me as any sort of comfort for your travels. My crows are a gift, and so I will use them to not exactly watch over you, but to observe. Don't bother wasting your time trying to get away from them, they will always find their way to you. Every muscle in your body that even dares to or does twitch will be examined by them. And they will continue to do this for as long as they are useful to me.

Philza.

Blood visibly swelled up passed Schlatt's neck, creeping onto his face. Schlatt crumpled the paper in his hand. His face felt like it was boiling, yet he still felt sick. Schlatt knew it, he knew how fucked up Phil was. So, the Angel of Death was finally showing his true colors it seemed.

Schlatt gave a challenging tone. "Could just eat them, your shitty birds. Don't doubt for one second I won't, asshole." He said the last part more quietly, yet he wouldn't care if the crows did hear it or not.

He tightened his hold on the sword.

Now unbothered by the soulless eyes of the bird–he didn't find it worth caring, too lost in his deep hatred. He stomped past the birds that stuck by him, they watched him go. They were like machines–none of them even caring enough to get close to the dead crow, currently being slowly eaten away by the cold. He went on and continued his route, still eager to find civilization again. 

The noticeable sounds of gusts of wind through the air made the hair on his neck bristle. 

He stomped faster, it didn't really do much because the sounds were still there. These crows were not going to let Schlatt out of their sight, that was for sure. 

––––––

A bell. He heard a bell.

He'd done it, he found his way back. He was no longer forced to roam alone but instead he walked alongside others. People and creatures of all kinds walked past him, paying no mind to him as they focused on their responsibilities. Even with his huge threatening horns that bulged from beneath his hood, not to mention his criminal background, he was just another voyager to them. 

The village had stands filled with decor and food, things others would want or need. They were nice, but what really caught Schlatt's attention was just in front of him. His eyes fell upon a tavern, it was smaller than the usual one though that didn't seem to matter. 

Keeping his head low and horns hidden away under cloth incase of getting recognized, he made his way towards the entrance. He'll grab a drink first and later find maybe a tub or bath house to wash himself and his clothes.

Loud commotion was heard from within the building. And for the first time in his life, it made Schlatt feel slightly apprehensive. He felt his gut tighten, but he still made sure he stepped with that knowing confidence as he walked in.

He could feel the stares as he was going past. He sat at an empty table in the corner, away from the chatting individuals as they gloated about hunting and such. Swinging their beers from side to side as its liquid puddled on wood.

He noticed the familiarity he felt while watching them. How he used to brag about himself to his coworkers as they drank until they could almost black out. The way they'd joke and laugh about how pathetic anyone running against them was compared to them.

What were they doing now with him gone?

"Can I get you anything?"

Schlatt looked up to see one of the waiters looking at him with an inpatient expression. Her voice was also deeply impassive. He looked away again.

Schlatt waved a hand dismissively, "Yeah get me a pint of beer will ya, beautiful." He slipped off one of his rings, placing it on the table to push towards her with his sharp nail. "Hope you can accept this as payment."

The lady huffed at him with furrowed brows, but raised them again when she dipped her head slightly, writing his order. "Quite the snappy one aren't we." She flipped the pad closed to put it back in her apron, taking the ring.

Schlatt watched her go, feeling confused. He couldn't tell if it was his attitude that made her react like that or not. The taverns he went to always seemed to enjoy hearing those compliments he gave. It was always a way that made him get away with saying anything but "please" and "thank you". 

Nonetheless he didn't care. He just wanted a drink.

The door to the entrance opened again, more hybrids and such filling the room. Schlatt noticed someone who lingered from the rest of the group. It was a hooded figure with a slim build that walked in, scanning the area. 

Schlatt didn't pay much of it. The place was probably filled with weirdos. The waiter from earlier placed down his drink next to him, she too caught the attention of the mysterious person standing. Schlatt lifted the mug to his lips as he drank.

The waiter was talking to them now. The hooded one reached for something in their pouch. Flapping the creased paper they took out up to the waiter's face, the other pointed at it as if asking for whatever was on it. The waiter shook her head in response. Schlatt's sips turned small at the sight of the paper in realization. They were holding up his wanted poster.

Even after Wilbur had thrown him away, there were still others out there who wanted to keep him gone for good.

He panicked as he made eye contact with them. They probably felt his staring.

Schlatt almost spat out his drink when he also noticed the golden locks with strands of dark brown hair when the figure's face was faced to him. 

It was Niki. Schlatt knew her as a candidate for a party that went against him back at L'manberg.

She strode directly his way. 

Schlatt wasn't sure if he should run again or stay in one spot. He was basically trapped, the only exit was blocked by her. He wouldn't want to cause some sort of scene by trying. The last thing he wanted to do was create any attention to himself. So, he stayed seated, accepting his fate.

"Well look who it is." He said, as if his heart wasn't beating out of his chest at that moment.

She stood at the other side of the table from him. "I need to talk with you, Schlatt." She sounded urgent, quite out of breath.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" He asked, trying to make small talk.

"Schlatt."

Schlatt glowered at his drink, annoyed. He avoided her intense stare. "Hold on, let me drink."

Niki bent down until Schlatt was forced to look at her eyes. They were a fierce, flaring gold. "Now."

Schlatt gritted his teeth at her and sighed, "Jesus–what is it?"

Schlatt scrunched his nose when she sat opposite from him, scooting in her seat as she stuffed the poster back in her pouch. Schlatt was curious as to where she got it from, how far out the posters were hung up. Wanting to make as little conversation as possible, he refrained himself from asking.

Having her full attention on Schlatt now, her voice became steady, "I'm worried for L'manberg." It was almost a whisper, almost sorrowful.

"Wilbur, he…" She glanced down hesitantly. Her lip quavered.

"He's wrong." It was like she couldn't believe it herself when she said that. It was very few words yet they were so uneven in pitch, like she was fighting herself to go on. Schlatt always felt uncomfortable whenever he was near Niki. She was always so sensitive, more than most. It bugged him. "The presidency, I think it got to him."

Schlatt wasn't expecting that at all. Though not much of a shocker on Wilbur. "What does that have to do with me?" He tried not to sound harsh, but really, why was she telling him this? L'manberg was out of his hands now, he had no control over it. Why would he care for a country who was out for his blood?

"Because you could help me. Help us." She sounded desperate this time. What nonsense was she on about.

"Help you?" He laughed. "Now how would I–"

Niki stopped him before he could make any snarky remarks. "You still have followers left schlatt, they'd listen to you." 

Something caught in his throat. She wasn't being serious. After everything Schlatt still had followers? Just how many were there? Schlatt scanned her expression for any sort of deception but there was none. He just saw a girl pleading for someone's help.

How fucking funny was this. Schlatt felt like he was dreaming, it was too good to be true. L'manberg must really be in shambles. 

Schlatt laughed again. Bending down to hold in his laughter as he covered it with the back of his hand. Niki leaned away from him as if he was deranged. It infuriated her how Schlatt could be acting like this. The laughter died down. "How badly did Wilbur fuck up? How did it get so bad you went to find me of all people to help you?" 

"You just don't care, do you?" Niki went on. "Schlatt, this is a chance for you to prove yourself to them. You can show them that you can change for the better."

"I'm already better. I don't need to change. It's them that need to change." He was very direct during his time back in L'manberg. That's just how he spoke. Strict, authoritative–like he knew what he was doing. It's how a president should be.

"Yeah, right." She was mocking, in disbelief at hearing Schlatt talk. "You did nothing to help the country."

"I–" Schlatt frowned as Niki became a bit more accusatory. "I was making it peaceful."

Niki fumed at him. "Shouting demands that could have caused riots! You lacked professionalism. Schlatt, you even drank whenever you went to meetings–"

"Yeah yeah." He said passively over her talking, trying to drown her out. It didn't work of course. He felt similar to a child getting scolded. 

"–you are no peaceful man, Schlatt. Far from it."

Schlatt tries to gather a retort for that, grasping for something to disprove the objective truth– he can’t find the words fast enough. Niki continues. 

"If you won't help, fine. Not sure why I even bothered. " She got up from her seat. "I'll figure it out myself." 

With one final glare towards Schlatt she whispers, "Consider yourself lucky I don't give you away right here."

And with that, she leaves.

Chapter Text

The encounter with Niki left Schlatt feeling glum. It left his mind to wonder. The mug that his hand was currently wrapped around looked blurred out from view. The noises around the atmosphere of the place were only static and unfocused to his ears now, a whole other world he has created for himself. Hearing the news about L'manberg and its potential downfall made him more restless than he would've wanted, nor had he expected. For a country that basically rejected him and turned against him, he still found himself to care.

Schlatt pulled the corners of his lips down slightly, no, that's not it.

He found himself growing wary for it, like it was still his responsibility. It still had some sort of attachment to him, a connection, he could feel it. Like a leech on his back he couldn't quite reach and scrape off. That if anything bad were to happen to it it would affect him as well. It would mean he was the eyewitness for its destruction, or worse, a culprit.

He wasn't sure why his mind thought this way. If it was some form of guilt he had. That was close enough to what the feeling felt like, anyway. Schlatt didn't have much of a strong sense of understanding when it came to his emotions.

Schlatt refocused his surroundings, his body suddenly feeling too overstimulated. He made sure the muscles in his body still functioned well enough to lift the mug, curling his fingers in order to undo the tension. He stares down at his drink once more before scrunching his eyes shut, lifting the mug as the alcohol burns down his throat. After a moment he finishes his drink, chugging it down until it could almost choke him. The weight on his shoulders seems to lighten, just a little.

A tall figure stood above him, only a silhouette visible enough to make out. The figure stood tall and with good poise, a way to remind everyone that he is the important one, that he should be given full focus upon. A hand belonging to the man was raised in front of him, mocking. That whatever it pointed towards was sure to be a crude joke for all to see.

"Is this the man you all deemed worthy for my place?" The man's voice was booming, strong and smooth like honey on his lips. It was heard across the field from where everyone stood, the speaker made l sure of it.

He, Schlatt, the cause of this, stood with his neck craned up. The stance was uncomfortable, his muscles grew sore yet he couldn't bear the thought of movement. His head throbbed and his ears were ringing. He could feel the blood in his veins pulsing through his organs, hyper aware of how his body wanted to so desperately leave. With creaking bones, an arm wrapped around his own chest, he could feel his heartbeat become more rapid as it pounded against his ribcage.

People were surrounding him, they were closing in, invading.

He tugged on his clothing, begging for his body to stop betraying him, to just– run . For a bundle of peripheral nerves to make his muscles contract and produce movement . Yet, he stayed there, taking in all of their insults that were thrown right at his face.

Like some fucking bitch .

He couldn't breathe. He needed to breathe.

Everyone was there, watching him.

Everyone.

They saw how vulnerable he was.  

Him with his mighty horns that used to intimidate anyone who shared a single glance his way, giving him great social position. To them he was considered a strong leader because of how big and maintained they were. His build would be towering over most all thanks to his crossbreed genes, he would've been perfect. To the people he was someone both feared and adored.

But not here he wasn't. The same people who looked up to him saw nothing but another failure. 

Here he looked utterly pathetic.

The voice spoke again, this time it sounded more personal, with more maliciousness, "I hope the bird's eat away at your corpse like the pathetic waste of meat that you are." 

Oh.

His anger overpowered his fear for that small sliver of a moment. His face twitched.

He's been wishing for your downfall way before you, buddy.

"May we never cross paths again, old friend."

The man, foul as he was, looked at him, a waste of space. It was embarrassing to admit how quick the eyes landed on his own, startled him. The fire in his eyes was haunting, they scorched big and bright, enough for him to second guess if the man was truly human.

But why did they remind him of something else?...

He's seen those same cold eyes before, ones that also bore a deep burning determination. Those same eyes that would do anything, absolutely anything to meet their ambitions. To shape the world into their own ideals to what they fit is right. 

His personal hell were in those eyes.

Something in his brain snaps, and he wonders how far it would take to feel that buzzing feeling in both his mind and skin again. The feeling where these thoughts and memories didn't matter, or at least felt like they didn't. 

Schlatt can't control his impulses, his wants and needs. He is helpless, consumed in his own addictive tendencies.

Who's to blame him?

                          –––————

The place is spinning now.

He can feel his head reeling, swaying it side to side attempting to keep it upright as best as he could.

The alcohol has done its job, poisoning his mind once again. The drowsiness caused from the aftermath leaves his body feeling heavy and exhausted.

There was a faint slamming noise and the rattle of metal against wood. He must've dropped his head on the table eventually.

Schlatt can barely make out anything, his head too far gone along with his vision too blurred.

He can hear the door to the outside open from behind him, the sensation of faint chilly air touching his limp body.

The room goes silent, deathly silent. Still disoriented, he felt the feeling of pure panic set in, it made the hair on his neck stand on end. He no longer hears the bellowing of townsfolk, the sloshing of beer being thrown into the air, or the sound of iron being hit against another. It was so sudden Schlatt almost felt worried if he'd somehow lost his hearing to drinking.

That wasn't until he heard the slow and heavy stomping of footsteps coming from the doorway. The floorboards creaked with each passing step, the closer they approached the more the weight of whoever they belonged to was strikingly prominent. Schlatt swore they even shook the whole establishment, it made his fear worse even when he had no idea what he was meant to be scared of in the first place.

Before the anxiety-inducing noises could get any closer they finally went to a stop, presumably just a few feet away from where he sat, preferably more.

Schlatt could make out faint whispers coming from the townsfolk. Yet they weren't loud enough for him to fully grasp what they were saying. Schlatt, using any left over strength he could muster, lifted his head off the table. 

His eyes rolled back to their original position, they were still blurred, barely able to focus on anything, but there was one thing he could faintly make out.

" Why is he here ? " The whispers were audible now.

" There must be a reason, he wouldn't be here for nothing. "

The figure was massive . A height Schlatt had only seen once.

" Maybe he's come to kill us ?" 

" Don't be ridiculous !"

The blur was a pinkish color, almost the same as that of a piglin.

" Don't tell me it's him …"

The head, his huge bushy piglin head tilted towards him. Blood red piercing eyes analyzing his anatomy like some test subject, Schlatt refrained himself from shuddering.

" Who ? Who is it ?"

" The Blood God ."

Schlatt felt his whole body seize. No, no, no, no. This wasn't real. He was hallucinating, he had to be. He drank too much–it was just the alcohol, the alcohol was making him see things. God, his head hurt, his head hurt so much. It was all just too overwhelming, why was everything always so overwhelming. It just wasn't fair. What did he do to deserve this? 

"'Scuse me." A voice startles him, it was a ladies voice, the same one from before.

Her face showed no interest. "Are you going to pay for those? or are you going to weep like some sad old man all day?" 

Schlatt sways forward as his head begins to throb more violently. "God–will you shut up ?" His words were slurred and mumbled. The alcohol was starting to affect his behavior, making his emotions more unstable.

She makes an exasperated expression stumbling over her words.

Before she can call out a remark back at him Schlatt stumbles up from his seat. His bones ached and his sight spun from the harsh movement. "I…I need to leave –"

Something swiftly grabs his shirt from the collar as he's lifted off the ground, making him want to hurl. He's dragged away from the table as he's forced to come face to face with none other than the piglin himself, lifted to his eye level. 

His legs dangle, weakly trying so desperately to run away, though it's no use, his body gives up soon after.

Techno shoves him out the door back outside in what seems to be frustration.

"I told you not to come, you know." It's another familiar voice, one not as blood curdling but still not one he was hoping to hear.

"It's fine, Phil." Techno's voice was as gruff as ever. His throat rumbled deep enough that Schlatt could feel its vibrations.

The outside is quieter compared from inside, it eases his nerves to be away from the bickering. The gentle breeze and frightened felines that ran across the snow, possibly disturbed by a passerby or two that walked too close, distracted him.

He heard an exhale of breath come from phil. "You don't have to keep holding him like that. You can put him down y'know?"

"Oh, right."

The hold on Schlatt's shirt collar was instantly let go, it didn't help that Techno didn't bother lowering him beforehand considering he was being held nearly three feet in the air.

He fell landing right on his knees before collapsing backwards onto the thinning snow. He let out a short whine. He definitely fractured something from the impact.

" Gently ." 

Techno huffed.

This was going to be hell.

Chapter Text

Alright, I'll just get it over with.

The story has been discontinued, but it isn't due to the reason of the DSMP ending, but because I literally had no idea where exactly I was going with this story (also I'm just not satisfied with the writing). 

I might make a remake of this story though, maybe somewhere in the future (if my interest in the DSMP still exists that is). 

That's all :^)