Chapter Text
That day was like any other.
Mama was returning from patrolling as Papa cooked Hoglin meat over a campfire. The blackstone walls around them were warm from the lava below and Mama sat down on a crimson wood chair. He smiled up at Mama, her black uniform hung over her body and her gold belt shined like blaze powder. She told him to go play.
It was in Piglin, but he knew even now what it meant.
He went outside of his family’s home, racing through the blackstone halls of the bastion. Other Piglins followed behind him, laughing and snorting as they picked up wooden swords and stumbled past other Piglins and Brutes who snorted in return. He was the biggest of all the Piglins his age and easily took their whacks and dealt twice as much back.
He used to like that Mama was the biggest of the Brutes, now he wished he was more like his father.
They ran outside of the bastion, into the crimson forest. They weren’t alone- there were other Piglins around, keeping watch and hunting Hoglins. It was normal for them to start learning to be outside, to fight, to hunt, and just to play. They were kids.
He couldn’t remember who had suggested it, but instead of sticking to the treeline, they ventured further into the woods. It wasn’t out of the normal, they were old enough to start exploring through the red forest. Lava streamed down from the ceiling above and the sounds of ghast filled his ears. The other Piglins started play-fighting with each, trading blows with their swords.
He looked around, spotting an adult Piglin through the trees, who nodded at them. She stepped into the clearing, her crossbow drawn, but she leaned against a tree as they began to play.
He remembered her praising his fighting skills, telling him to not hesitate with his strikes.
It was supposed to be like any other day.
It started with the shriek of a Ghast. She yelled at them to go back to the bastion. They all knew there was one thing that would make a Ghast shriek like that- humans coming into the Nether.
He remembered the last time they had come into the Nether. The screaming, the fighting. He remembered the dead they had laid into boats and sent out onto the lava lakes to sink and burn. He had lost a sibling in that invasion. They were older than him, but he couldn’t remember anything about them.
Humans never brought good news, only violence and death.
They didn’t get far before humans clad in diamonds appeared from behind the trees, swords glinting in the lava light. He lunged at a human, his wooden sword ringing against the armor.
The humans laughed and lassos descended on them.
He watched as some managed to run away, humans pursuing them. He pulled on the rope around his arm, pulling the human with him. He thought he could run, he was big enough, then another lasso was thrown around his leg. He was yanked to the ground. He tried biting through rope, the fiber burning his mouth as the human pulled him to them.
Two of them grabbed his head, ripping his mouth open as a third shoved a potion down his throat. A rotten taste filled his senses as the liquid froze his throat as he fought against them. Any screams that he had were drowned out as his body froze. He couldn’t move, the cold stung his bones and tears poured from his eyes. The tears dried on his fur and salt clung to his face.
A bag was thrown over his head, his hands and feet bound, and he was tied to a stick before being picked up and hung from the stick like a vine. The warmth of the Nether comforted him slightly as he tried to rip away, but each time he flailed he was struck with the butt of a sword.
Then he heard it- the whirring of a portal.
He squealed, trying to rip away. They were going to kill him. He wouldn’t live on the other side of that portal! The humans screamed at him, smacking him with weapons and fists, but he didn’t stop.
The humans stepped into the portal and stepped out into a warm land, though it was chilly compared to the Nether. He screamed and cried, waiting for his flesh to fall off, his soul to leave his corpse and watch it roam the Overworld.
It never came.
He was thrown in the back of a wagon and the humans climbed around him, planting their feet on his body. His body shivered, and his throat grew raw from screaming, but he never turned into a Zombie Pigman.
Next thing he knew he was untied, the bag ripped off his head, and tossed into a freezing stone cell. Iron bars lined the wall that showed a hallway. He looked around, he didn’t see another Piglin in the dozens of other cells- at least as far as he could see.
His pig-like hooves clicked against the stone floor and the small amount of yellow sticks that were piled in a corner of his cell next to a bucket. He sat down, his snack pressed against the wall.
A human walked up to the bars in front of him. There was a bucket of water in his hand. His brown hair was tied back and streaks of gray raced through it. His face was wrinkled, his eyes a dusty gray. He pointed at him.
“Technoblade.” He said in clear Piglin.
He couldn’t remember the name he shouted back, but he was sprayed with water, burning his skin as much as lava would.
“Technoblade.”
They screamed at each other for hours. The bucket had to be refilled multiple times. In the end, he was soaked, his body burning in the cold. The man smiled as he pointed at himself. “Beast Tamer. Repeat.”
“Beast Tamer.” He mumbled out, his body barely moving under his command.
Beast Tamer smiled, pointing at him. “You?”
He stared daggers into Beast Tamer. He hated the name, but he couldn’t take the pain any longer. “Technoblade.” Beast Tamer left, leaving Technoblade alone, cold, and far away from home.