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*to the Emperor Technoblade of the Antarctic Empire*we have something of yours*
The printed translation ended above a poorly developed and hastily taken photo of a very pissed off, very familiar, face.
*our terms of safe return are*your immediate surrender*Not more than a day later, a box containing the longest coil of braided pink hair that anyone had ever seen, was delivered anonymously to the ship where Philza was being held. Along with a single worded message, perfectly lettered in gold ink and stamped with the Imperial Seal.
"NO"
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Bookmark Notes:
this seems like a good fic to read, finished chapter 10
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Bookmark Tags:
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Bookmark Notes:
ch 10
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Bookmark Notes:
Good places :)
Always down for Empire AUs with Techno and Phil