twd: the last silence

Chapter 32: The Smile of a King

The Governor's lips curved into a grin, the kind born from arrogance and years of getting his way.

He stepped forward, boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor of his compound. Around Axel, the circle of men tightened, rifles raised, safety clicks off, blades glinting under the dim lights.

The Governor's voice deepened. Rough. Confident. Final.

"Stupid move, kid," he muttered. "You walk into my home, thinking you're some kind of warlord… and now?"

He opened his arms wide, gesturing at the room and its guards.

"You're surrounded. Outnumbered. One word from me, and your head rolls."

Axel didn't move.

"Now," the Governor said, voice curling with venom, "if you had bent the knee, begged like a dog, I might've let you crawl away. Might've."

He chuckled, then leaned forward.

"Seven outta ten for trying to act cool. But you forgot one thing, boy."

He jabbed his thumb at his chest.

"I built this place."

The Governor's voice rose with pride, echoing through the room.

"I bled for this. Fought tooth and nail. I turned ruins into walls, dust into order. I took men and made them soldiers. You? You've got a little village with chickens and goats."

He spat near Axel's boot

.

"I built a kingdom. This is a kingdom. I am the king."

He pointed a finger like a weapon.

"You think you're a king? You're just a boy. A child with a sword and a death wish. You don't even know what's happening around you, do you? The bigger game, the real war, the true enemies... they're already moving."

He let those words hang heavy in the air.

But Axel…

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

He just looked up—his silver-black hair falling like a curtain of shadows over his blood-streaked face. His eyes were still. Empty. Cold. But behind them, something moved. Something ancient. Something dangerous.

He didn't speak.

Not yet.

Because fear? No. There was no fear in him.

If Axel had feared the Governor, he never would've walked into this room. Never would've brought his boys. Never would've risked everything.

Because Redd?

Redd was strong. Brave. Loyal.

But he was not worth Axel's life.

Not even close.

Axel still had a mission. Still had blood to spill for the ones taken from him. His parents. His little brother—his angel. He would do anything to find those responsible.

He would beg.

He would kneel.

He would bleed.

But only if it brought him closer to vengeance.

And the Governor?

The Governor was just another stepping stone.

So Axel looked up at him… and smiled.

That slow, haunting smile that said: You already lost.

Because from the beginning—

This was his plan.

The Governor's laughter echoed like a storm through the compound, drawing smirks from his soldiers. Axel still didn't move. Still didn't speak.

Then—he blinked.

One slow, deliberate blink.

And in that heartbeat… it began.

BOOM.

The sound wasn't thunder, but it hit like it. A sharp explosion tore through the west side of the Governor's compound. Wood, fire, and screams split the air. Dust rained from the ceiling. Half the room flinched, rifles rising.

Axel finally stood.

Calmly.

Like the blast meant nothing.

The Governor stumbled a step, confusion slicing through his smug grin. "What the hell—?"

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Gunfire. Rapid. Precise. Not wild, not desperate.

Trained.

One of Axel's boys—Number Four—was already moving. He reached under his coat and pulled free a blade, slicing through the throat of the nearest guard like paper. Blood sprayed, chaos erupted.

Number Three flipped a table for cover, drawing a suppressed pistol. Headshots. One. Two. Three. Like a ghost, he moved in the shadows.

Axel? He didn't even lift a weapon. He walked toward the Governor as his boys carved a path through the room, emotionless, mechanical, like he had trained them to be.

Like soldiers.

The Governor's eyes widened.

"Y–you planned this?!"

Axel's voice finally came, calm and sharp like winter air.

"You built a kingdom. Cute. I built a machine."

Another explosion rocked the compound. Screams outside. Smoke drifted in. The guards were dying—one by one—confused, outmatched.

"You really thought I walked in here without knowing every exit, every hallway, every weak point in your security?"

He stepped over a body. The man still gasped, gurgling in his blood. Axel didn't look down.

"You took my man," he said coldly. "That wasn't a mistake. That was bait."

Axel stopped inches from the Governor, who now stood frozen, fury shaking through him.

"I didn't come to talk," Axel said, tilting his head. "I came to cut the head off a snake."

He reached behind him and unsheathed his katana in one smooth motion. The silver edge glinted under the flickering lights.

"But don't worry," he whispered, leaning in just enough, "I'll make sure they remember your name when I burn this place to the ground."

The Governor's mouth opened to shout, but he never got the chance.

SHHHK.

Axel's blade moved once.

Not to kill. Not yet.

Just to mark him—across the chest, deep and bloody.

A warning.

A declaration.

Axel turned away as his boys closed in, their formation perfect. The battle wasn't over yet, but the outcome was already decided.

This was Axel Reed

And the Governor?

Just another piece—

Now in checkmate.

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