【生肉搬运】鸟雀passerine 第一章(29)

Friend. The word that Technoblade had only truly understood in the days of snow and sweet tea.
“I don’t owe you anything,” Technoblade said quietly. “I don’t owe that—that child anything.”
“I know.”
“And I have better things to do with my time.”
“I know.”
“After all you did, I shouldn’t even be listening to you right now. I should just leave.”
“I know, Techno, I know.”
And then Philza did something Technoblade would never, in a hundred or a million years, have expected him to do. He kneeled. Philza, once-emperor, presently king, Angel of Death, kneeled before Technoblade, grasping pathetically at his cloak, his golden hair bowed. The voices were a chorus of a disgust and disdain—oh, how the mighty have fallen—and when Philza spoke again, his voice wavered.

“I am sorry, truly, for leaving. But I am asking you, begging you, to do this for me. For my son. For the friendship that we once shared, Techno. Please. Please. I do not know how much time the gods will give us.”
“What will you have me do?” Techno demanded, his own voice fraying at the edges. “What do you expect from me, Phil?”