Game of Thrones: The Dangerous Traveler (MULTIVERSAL)

GOT: The Dangerous Traveler 26

Lyn Corbray

Year 2010 A.D. – Georgia

Lyn's eagle soared through the skies, drawing wide circles as its eyes perceived everything from above. Through their shared vision, Lyn examined the settlement spread out a few hundred meters away. It was a place surrounded by tall, makeshift walls built from metal sheets and cement blocks, giving it a robust yet improvised appearance. A line of vehicles, some wrecked and others functional, reinforced the most vulnerable points of the barricade.

At the center of the settlement stood a group of low brick buildings with tiled roofs. They seemed to have been shops and offices at some point, but now they were adapted to meet the needs of the community. From the air, a large open courtyard could be seen, where several people moved back and forth. There was a small improvised garden with plants lined up in wooden boxes, and a couple of people working on them, clearly cultivating something.

Lyn noticed a watchtower at one end of the settlement. A figure was stationed there, equipped with a long-range rifle and scanning the horizon. Beside them, a radio emitted a constant murmur, likely communicating with other strategic points in the area.

Near the main entrance, two armed men patrolled, chatting casually but with their hands firmly gripping their weapons. There were several vehicles parked nearby, with a few people working on them, possibly ensuring they were ready to move at any moment.

The eagle descended a bit further, allowing Lyn to observe the activities within the settlement in greater detail. There was a small open-air market where a group of residents exchanged goods: canned food, tools, and ammunition. An elderly woman haggled with a young man, while a child played with a rag ball nearby.

Near the market, one building stood out above the rest. It had a wide terrace and a couple of chairs set up. It seemed to be some kind of command center or main residence. From one of the windows, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a shrewd expression watched the activities of the settlement. His presence exuded authority, though Lyn couldn't hear what he was saying.

Further back, the eagle spotted a small fenced area containing several chained walkers. They were kept there as some sort of spectacle or, perhaps, for an unknown purpose. The walkers futilely tried to reach the people observing them from a safe distance.

At one end of the settlement, a group of men and women trained in hand-to-hand combat under the supervision of a muscular woman with a stern gaze. They used improvised weapons: sticks, knives, and spears. Their coordination indicated they weren't beginners but a well-trained militia.

Lyn noticed a large generator installed in one corner of the settlement, surrounded by sandbags. Thick cables extended from it along the streets, supplying power to various lamps and devices.

The eagle took one last lap, observing a couple of children playing near a fountain, before soaring back toward Lyn, leaving behind the controlled bustle of Woodbury.

After the flight, Lyn returned to the small campfire where Ciri was sitting, watching as Maggie tried to keep her distance, busying herself with tasks to avoid eye contact with them. Lyn let out a theatrical sigh before speaking.

"Well, I found something interesting," Lyn said as he settled near the fire, his tone casual as if he were sharing gossip.

Ciri raised an eyebrow, showing curiosity but not stopping her sword sharpening. "What did you see?"

"A little paradise surrounded by walls," Lyn began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Woodbury, they call it. Or at least that's what a sign said. It seems... organized. Too organized for this world."

Ciri set the whetstone aside and fixed her gaze on Lyn. "Too organized? What does that mean?"

"High walls, armed patrols, a market... they even have a generator that seems to power the whole place. It's almost like they're trying to bring back normalcy."

"That sounds good," Ciri replied, crossing her arms. "A safe place to live."

Lyn let out a dry laugh. "Safe, until it's not. There's something off about how they run things. They have walkers chained up in a corner, like they're pets. And their leader... I saw him from a window. He has that look... you know, the kind of guy who'd do anything to stay in control."

Ciri frowned. "What else?"

"Oh, they also have a militia. People training with improvised weapons. They take security very seriously."

"Maybe they're just being cautious," Ciri suggested.

Lyn shook his head, smirking. "Maybe. But it just gives me a bad feeling. Something about this place doesn't sit right with me. My instincts are sharp."

Ciri fell silent for a moment before asking, "So, what do you plan to do?"

Lyn shrugged. "I want to infiltrate, see how it works. Though I can't deny there's something appealing about causing a little chaos there."

"Of course you'd find that appealing," Ciri said, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Ciri. What would this world be without a little fun?" Lyn smiled with that expression of his that always seemed to mock everything.

"A better place," Ciri retorted.

"Maybe," Lyn conceded, standing up and stretching. "But it wouldn't be as interesting."

"What's the plan?"

"The plan? Infiltration," Lyn commented, and in the following hours, he waited for a group to leave Woodbury, observing them with his eagle. Finally, it happened.

Lyn moved through the forest shadows like a silent predator, his right eye turning white as he connected with his eagle. From above, the bird watched three men who had left Woodbury and ventured into the forest. Lyn smiled smugly as the eagle relayed the group's exact position.

The first was a middle-aged man with blond hair and a hardened demeanor; he had a blade adapted as a prosthesis in place of his right hand. The eagle identified him as the group's leader. The other two were younger men. One, with dark hair and nervous eyes, wore a worn leather jacket. The other, stockier and with reddish hair, had a relaxed, almost careless appearance, with a cap tilted to one side.

From his hidden position, Lyn slipped from tree to tree, always out of sight of the men. He followed them at a safe distance, ensuring they didn't detect his presence. The eagle circled above them, high enough to go unnoticed, while Lyn got close enough to overhear their conversation.

"I don't get why the Governor sent us on this expedition," the dark-haired young man, Tim, said as he kicked a stone on the path. "There's nothing interesting out here."

"Because he said so, and when he says something, it gets done," Merle replied with an authoritative tone, pointing at him with his blade. "You wanna go back empty-handed? Good luck explaining that."

"Relax, Merle," Crowley, the stocky man, interjected. "Tim's just saying what we're all thinking. This forest is emptier than my stomach."

"You two are a pair of whiners," Merle scoffed. "When I was on my own, before the Governor found me, I learned not to cry over every little thing. You know what it's like to survive with one damn hand missing?"

Tim raised his hands in apology. "Didn't mean to offend you, Merle. It's just... this place gives me the creeps."

Crowley nodded. "True. It feels too quiet. There's always something hiding when everything seems so calm."

Merle let out a sarcastic laugh. "Scared of a quiet forest! Alright, kids, if something jumps out, I'll handle it with this." He raised his blade proudly.

Tim sighed but changed the subject. "Hey, Merle, you never really told us how you ended up in Woodbury. You always say the Governor saved you, but never the details."

Lyn moved closer, his interest piqued by the mention of the settlement's leader.

"You want the full story?" Merle asked with a twisted smile. "Alright. It was right after that bastard brother of mine left me trapped in Atlanta."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Your brother left you?"

"That's right! That holier-than-thou Daryl decided to stick with Rick and his group of idiots, and I got stuck, handcuffed on a roof, surrounded by walkers. If it weren't for my wits and this blade, I wouldn't be here to tell the tale. Well, it wasn't directly him, but he never came back for me. The direct cause was that fat black guy... son of a bitch."

Tim looked at the blade with fascination. "And then?"

"Then, it went from bad to worse," Merle continued, his tone dripping with calculated drama. "I spent weeks alone, surviving on what I could find, until I ran into the Governor. That man didn't just save my life, he gave me a fun purpose. Well, going out with you whiny shits isn't fun, but you get the idea."

Crowley nodded with a smile. "I'll admit, it's a good place to be."

Tim shrugged. "I guess. Though sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it. Do you think the Governor really has a plan?"

Merle stopped in his tracks and glared at him. "Listen, kid, the Governor always has a plan. And you'd better not question it. Got it?"

Tim nodded quickly, lowering his head.

Lyn watched from his hidden position, a crooked smile appearing on his face. The information he had gathered was valuable, but he also found the dynamic between the three men amusing.

Emerging from the forest with the stealth of a feline, Lyn attacked the group in the blink of an eye. His speed was superhuman, and in an instant, the sword Blackfyre ended Tim's life with a clean cut to the neck. Crowley barely had time to react before Dawn pierced his chest, his body falling heavily to the ground.

Merle, stunned but reacting quickly, raised his blade to defend himself. Lyn mocked him, dodging the attack with grace. "You really think you can stop me with that toy?" Lyn said with a cruel smile.

With a calculated move, Lyn disarmed Merle, cutting his prosthesis with a precise strike from Blackfyre. The improvised blade fell to the ground, useless. Merle screamed in rage and pain, but before he could react, Lyn stepped forward and cut off his other hand with Dawn. He also kicked away the gun that fell from his waist.

Merle fell to his knees, staring in disbelief at the bloody stumps where his hands used to be. "You damn son of a bitch!" he shouted between gasps of pain.

Lyn leaned toward him, his face lit by a contemptuous smile. "I warned you not to play games, Merle. Now you'll talk, whether you want to or not."

Merle tried to stay defiant, but Lyn wasn't willing to wait. Blackfyre pressed against the man's neck.

"Tell me everything about Woodbury. How many are there? How strong is the Governor?"

"Go to hell!" Merle spat.

Lyn's patience ran out. "Alright, let's do it my way." Lyn picked up Merle's fallen prosthesis and began cutting into the skin of Merle's arm with cold precision. The man's screams echoed through the forest.

"That's more like music," Lyn said with a sadistic smile. "Talk, or I'll keep playing."

Merle, panting and bleeding, finally began to break. "Alright! Alright! There are over seventy people in Woodbury. The Governor has everyone under his control, with weapons and supplies."

"Go on," Lyn demanded, applying more pressure.

"He... he has a group of loyal guards. He's not someone you want to mess with," Merle said between sobs.

"What did he want you to do out here? What was the goal?"

At Merle's silence, Lyn pressed hard on his wounds. The man screamed in pain, but his energy was fading. Blood loss was taking its toll.

"Looking for weapons... a map," Merle muttered distractedly.

Lyn nodded, satisfied with the information. Then, without hesitation, he drove his sword into Merle's heart.