twd: the last silence

Chapter 31: The King and the Governor

The Governor leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of aged whiskey as he stared out the cracked window of his office. Beyond it, his compound buzzed with life—guards walking the walls, survivors trading, prisoners breaking their backs on useless labor.

He liked this.

Control.

He smiled to himself.

That kid—Axel—he was going to be a problem. A young upstart, already making waves like he was some kind of messiah. The message Axel sent when he fought Redd and his people is clear: "I don't bow."

He heard the news he knows what happened how axel fought how he won and how he made redd one of his man

the Governor hated that.

"No one builds a kingdom inside my reach without kissing the ring," he muttered, tapping his finger against the glass.

But he wouldn't destroy Axel outright. No.

He had a better idea.

Break the king. Own the pieces.

"I'll bring him here," the Governor whispered, voice slick with confidence. "Make him see this place, make him see what true power looks like. And then... I offer him a throne under mine. If he takes it, I own him. If he doesn't…"

He looked to the corner of the room—where a rusted iron hook still hung from the ceiling, stained from the last man who said no.

"I'll hang him like a flag."

He turned to his second-in-command, a burly man named Dax. "When the kid arrives, treat him nice. Give him a seat, pour him a drink. Let him think he's walking into a meeting of equals."

Dax grunted. "And if he acts up?"

The Governor grinned.

"Then we remind him this ain't a kingdom. It's a jungle. And I'm the apex predator."

....

The truck rolled to a stop at the front gates of the Governor's compound—rusted iron wrapped in barbed wire and fortified with sandbags and gun turrets. Men stood ready on the walls, rifles aimed down at Axel and his five wolves.

The gates didn't open at first.

Then, slowly, with a groan of metal and tension, they peeled apart.

Axel stepped out first.

He didn't wear armor.

Just black jeans, boots, a torn shirt, and his katana strapped to his back. His silver-black hair caught the sun, and his pale eyes swept over everything with chilling calm.

His five men followed, boots crunching gravel in eerie unison. Their expressions were blank. Empty. Hollow.

The guards at the gate stepped back, unnerved by the silence.

Inside, the Governor waited by the main building, his smile wide, his arms open.

"Welcome, Axel," he said warmly. "Glad you could make it."

Axel didn't shake his hand.

Didn't nod.

Didn't speak.

He just looked at the compound.

One long, slow scan.

He saw the guards. The weapons. The chains on the prisoners. The fear in the eyes of the workers.

He didn't look impressed.

The Governor's smile twitched.

"This place… it's strong," he offered. "Like yours, but with polish. You and I—we could do something big, kid."

Axel looked him dead in the eye.

Then spoke, soft and cold.

"You're already dead. You just don't know it yet."

The five wolves stepped forward in perfect rhythm behind him.

Axel sat on the chair like he owned not just the room—but the entire world beneath it. He leaned back slowly, one leg over the other, the katana at his side humming with quiet menace.

The Governor watched him carefully, amused at first.

But there was something different about this boy. The way the air shifted around him. The way five men stood behind him—expressionless, silent, breathing only when Axel did.

And then Axel spoke.

Low. Calm. Absolute.

"You took my man," he said, eyes locked on the Governor. "That's not a good start for someone trying to play nice."

He glanced around the compound, as if he were already measuring the walls for destruction.

"If you had come to me yourself… asking for a meeting, I would've thought about it. Maybe even said yes. But no." He clicked his tongue. "You chose the wrong way. You took my man. You took my soldier."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping like a blade.

"And me… as a man… as a king… I hate when people take what's mine."

The Governor stiffened slightly. The air thickened.

Axel's tone never rose, but each word carried the weight of a storm.

"You didn't just take a man or a soldier. No," Axel said, tapping his temple, "You took a chess piece. And I hate when people mess with my game."

He stood slowly.

"Now," he said, "You can give them back. Peacefully. Or you can be stupid."

"The choice is yours."

There was silence.

Tension stretched like a pulled string—

And then—

One of the Governor's men, standing at his side, spat.

Right at Axel.

"You arrogant little sh—"

He didn't finish the word.

Axel didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.

He just whispered, "One."

That was all.

The man labeled One moved.

In less than five seconds, the spitter was dead—his throat slit with surgical precision. Not a scream. Not a word. Just the sound of air escaping and a body hitting the floor.

Gasps rippled through the room.

the five behind Axel hadn't moved.

Just One.

He returned to his place like nothing happened.

Axel didn't wipe the spit from his face.

He smiled.

"You see, Governor... I'm not a leader like you. I don't beg for loyalty."

He looked down at the blood.

"I build it."

Then back to the Governor.

"So what's it going to be?"

.

.

.

.

You can contact me through my official page on the following Accounts:

telegram:

miraclenarrator

tiktok:

miracle_narrator

instagram:

miracle_narrator