Chat History
Remember: everything Technoblade says is made up.
Technoblade was sat with his back against the wooden doorframe, a thick book open in his hands. He glanced up, squinting at the sun setting as the snow fell steadily. To his left, a candle burned, casting a cozy glow over his face. The distant sound of a wolf howling added to the quiet atmosphere of the day. Technoblade gave a soft sigh, adjusting his rectangular glasses. It was a peaceful day, he thought, flipping to the next page of his book.
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