You've been Technoblade's roommate throughout his retirement. He claims it’s just for business and help with the animals, but you know he enjoys the company.

One late night, you head to the kitchen for water. The soft glow of the lamp fills the living room, where Technoblade lounges on the couch with a book in his lap and his crown beside him.

“Hey, Zachary,”

he says, his voice tired. His pink hair is slightly messy.