Techno watched the partygoers from his spot. He was currently perched on a slender Jungle Tree branch, watching the festivities beneath him, the hundreds of tiny lanterns shining like fireflies.

The others had enjoyed his firework show earlier on, and he had enjoyed their praise. But it had left him feeling burnt out and exhausted. There was simply too much going on, too much social interaction.

His mind flickered back to the last festival he has attended, way back before the fall of Manburg and he smirked. No one had died from fireworks in the current festival. Yet. He entertained himself with the idea, toying with it in his mind, but eventually got bored and focused again on the party beneath him. If he strained his ears, he could pick up some of the cheery conversations that were taking place.

"Bees!"

"How? Cinnamon isn't supposed to taste this good!"

"You are such a spoon sometimes."

"Anyway, he then took that as a challenge to code an even harder difficulty in Minecraft. It was ridiculous."

"No! Pick him up - he's going to drown! Wait. Fish can't drown."

"So yeah, he won six to four, but we're still friends and all."

"Mumbo for mayor!"

"Who threw another potato into Sahara?"

Techno raised an eyebrow, pondering if he should swoop down dramatically and point at Grian to answer the last question, but decided against it. Amusing as it was, he would have to fly up the tree again, and worse, he would bring attention to himself. He liked humour. He liked delivering the punchline to a clever joke. But all of those desires died when there were a lot of people. He didn't like social situations.

He sat comfortably, leaning against the trunk, his cloak curled comfortably around him. He considered bringing out his sword to polish it, but decided that the dampness of the moss around him would ruin the wooden hilt.

In the jungle, nights were blissfully warm, and the sky was almost always wonderfully clear. He could see the moon, a shining silver crescent, and the thousands of stars that glittered like chips of shattered glass, glinting in the darkness.

It was so peaceful.

So dark.

So quiet.

Too quiet.

He froze.

The insects who had been chittering beside him all night had gone silent. His instincts screamed at him to arm himself, and his fingers had just brushed against the hilt of his sheathed sword when a hand clamped down on his mouth.

He tried to scream, but whoever it was wasn't letting him go so easily and the best he managed was a muffled sound that had no hope of being heard by anyone.

Strong hands squeezed his shoulders, pinning him to the tree. He thrashed desperately in the darkness, trying to draw his weapon, but whoever was kidnapping him was smart enough to have pressed their hand firmly against his, rendering him unable to pull it away from the hilt of his sword. He could feel the strength in the coiled muscles of his captor, pressed against his own, and he knew he wouldn't be able to escape.

Regret flashed inside him. He wasn't scared for himself, he had gotten out of many dangerous situations before. But his friends. They wouldn't know where he had gone. Would they even notice his absence? Would they be in danger next?

He had to warn them.

He twisted fiercely, ignoring the nails digging in to his skin and managing to rip off a shred of his blood-red cloak, tossing it into the air and watching it flutter downwards, disappearing into the darkness.

His captors didn't seem to have noticed. Or perhaps they just didn't care. He could tell there was two of them, shadowy figures that were crouched in front of him on the branch, pinning him firmly against the trunk of the tree.

He had enough time to wonder what was going to happen, before something heavy slammed into the side of his head, and everything faded away in a haze of pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno opened his eyes.

Pain flared inside his head, and he felt like lava was slowly pouring in through his skull, but he forced his expression to go neutral. Blank. He didn't know if anyone was watching, but it was better safe than sorry.

Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

He had learned the rules of survival long ago, and he followed them. They kept him alive.

He squinted against a bright light, and tried to make sense of his current situation. He was in a room. It was a small room - a cell, he realized, with iron bars stretched on front of him. The walls and floor were all made of smooth white quartz, but outside his cell, the air was hazy and silvery, like a thick mist that covered everything.

His sword was missing from his side, and he felt unbalanced without its reassuring weight against his side.

There were shining cuffs clamped around his wrists, and he could feel them dampening his power, draining what little admin magic he had away. They were attached to a thick metal chain that curled behind him and turning, he could see that they were fused onto a metal segment of the wall.

He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious for, but the slight ache of hunger in his stomach was not a reassuring sign. He also felt cold, chilled to the bone, and even his cape held no warmth. His fingers were numb, and he curled them into fists, trying to retain every little bit of heat he possibly could.

Turning again, he noticed a small cup of water along with a piece of bread left in the corner of his cell, but years of learning self control stopped him from wolfing it down.

While he knew the chances of being poisoned were low - if his captors had wanted him dead he would have been killed already- but he couldn't bring himself to take the food. Too many risks. He wouldn't do anything else in this cell then what was strictly necessary to survive. He wasn't about to make it any easier to kill him than it already was.

Techno wondered why he was here. And, of course, where he even was. The shimmering grey mist outside reminded him of the code-scape world he had explored with Dream before, with the same mysterious, shifting, shimmering quality, but not so much dark.

He pricked his ears, hearing someone walk closer.

The pattern of the footsteps sounded oddly familiar.

The clicking of heels on the floor was a little familiar.

The sound of the person breathing was definitely familiar.

And as the person finally reached his cell, Techno found himself staring at the smug face of someone who was, indeed, very familiar.