twd: the last silence

Chapter 33: King's Judgment

Axel moved like a shadow gliding through fire—precise, silent, inevitable. His boys moved with him, not behind, not beside—with him, like extensions of his will.

Number Two and Number Three looked to him.

A soft nod.

That was all they needed.

They vanished into the smoke and chaos, navigating the Governor's so-called kingdom like wolves in familiar woods. Because it was familiar—thanks to Redd.

Redd, the quiet scout. The loyal friend. For days, he and his men mapped everything—every watchtower, guard rotation, supply route, and blind spot. He gave Axel the blueprint of this kingdom. And Axel? He turned that map into a goddamn execution plan.

Now, Number Two and Three reached the lower barracks.

Two guards. One blink too slow.

Throats slit.

Door kicked open.

"Redd," Number Three hissed.

Redd raised his head, bloodied but grinning. "Took you long enough."

Behind him, three of his men were chained—but alive. Within moments, the locks were broken. Weapons passed. Hands clasped. Eyes narrowed.

The pack was back.

Above them, Number Four and Number Five tore through the Governor's inner guards like rabid wolves. One man's head hit the wall with a crack. Another had his chest caved in with a single strike. These weren't just fighters. They were machines, built in Axel's image. Made to end wars before they even started.

The Governor's forces had more numbers. More bodies. But no loyalty. No strategy. No vision.

They were footnotes in someone else's story.

The bomb Axel planted in his car? That was the starter's pistol. A 10-minute timer that signaled the beginning of the end. The smoke and fire blinded the enemy, but Axel's boys? They were born in smoke. Trained in fire.

And now—

Now Axel stood, his boot pressing lightly—mockingly—on the Governor's face. The man groaned, blood spilling from the deep chest wound Axel had carved earlier like a signature.

Axel smiled.

Not wide. Not cruel.

Just a quiet smile.

"I told you," he said, voice calm like a storm before the flood, "this isn't your kingdom."

He leaned down, just enough so the Governor could see the fury behind his stillness.

"You took my man… You made this personal. You made this loud. But I've always been louder in silence."

The Governor coughed, a wheeze. "Y–You won't get away with—"

CRACK.

Axel didn't hit him.

Redd did.

With one punch, the Governor was out cold. His kingdom? Falling. His men? Scattered. His myth? Shattered.

Axel stood up, looked around as the compound burned and screams faded.

.....

Axel didn't speak much after the fight.

He didn't need to.

The order was in his eyes.

"Take it all."

And they did.

Ten cars. Full tanks. Clean tires. Heavy with supplies. His boys—numbers, not names—moved like phantoms. Redd and his three men swept through the compound like ghosts cleaning a graveyard.

They took everything.

Food—bags of rice, cans, dried meat, anything that wouldn't rot.

Water—barrels, jugs, bottles, even the filters and the pumps.

Weapons—rifles, machetes, knives, ammunition crates stacked high.

Clothes—boots, jackets, armor, gloves, all stripped from the dead and taken from the living.

Fuel—siphoned every drop, from every vehicle, every generator.

Tools—hammers, shovels, wires, nails, saws, even screws.

People—men, women, children. Some terrified. Some grateful. All now under Axel's rule.

Every room was emptied.

Every corner searched.

Not even a bent nail remained.

And at the gate—what once was the Governor's proud entry into his kingdom—now stood his head, mounted on a blood-soaked spear, his crown of arrogance rotting in the dirt beneath.

Axel stood there a moment, staring at it.

Not in satisfaction.

Not in rage.

Just cold focus.

"Burn what's left," he said to Number Four.

And they did.

Smoke filled the sky as fire ate the bones of the false kingdom.

By nightfall, the convoy rolled down the road. Ten vehicles strong. Survivors huddled. Soldiers alert. Axel sitting in the lead truck, katana across his knees, eyes forward.

Redd sat beside him.

"You always planned this?"

Axel didn't look at him.

"I always plan everything."

The road stretched ahead.

And behind them—

Only ash.

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