chapter 56

Chapter 56: The Ride Back

The engine grumbled beneath them, steady and low, as the bloodied truck rolled along the broken road. Smoke still trailed faintly behind from where the tires had kissed hell just an hour ago. The sun had dipped behind the trees, casting everything in a rust-colored gloom.

Negan sat behind the wheel, one hand on it, the other resting lazily on Lucille. His knuckles were still red, and a small scratch ran down the side of his jaw, dried blood crusted into his stubble. Axel sat in the passenger seat again, cigarette dangling between his lips, though this time he hadn't lit it yet.

The silence was thick, but not awkward. It was just the kind of quiet that settled after a shared kill. Both of them had seen it. Both of them knew what it meant.

"You know…" Negan started, eyes fixed ahead, "That wasn't a hit squad. Wasn't some revenge bullshit. Wasn't no army. Just a bunch of hungry, desperate pricks trying to scrape some supplies off the road."

Axel didn't respond right away. He just tapped the unlit cigarette against the window, thinking.

"I saw it too," he said finally, voice calm. "The way they moved. The panic. That was survival. Not vengeance."

Negan chuckled dryly. "Still dumb as shit. Attacking us?"

"They didn't know who we were," Axel said. "Not really. They just saw a truck, weapons, gear. Supplies. Enough to feed their people, probably."

Negan gave a low whistle. "World's gone to hell and still full of amateurs."

Axel turned his head, finally lighting the cigarette and taking a long, lazy drag.

"I don't care anymore," he said flatly. "It's over. They're dead. Whatever they needed… they didn't get it."

Negan shot him a sideways glance. "That's cold as fuck."

Axel exhaled smoke, watching it swirl against the cracked windshield. "No. It's just smart."

There was a brief silence before Axel continued.

"You can see it in their eyes. The desperation. It's everywhere. No one has a plan anymore—they just move, take, die. Over and over."

Negan nodded, shifting gears as the road curved. "That's why we build. That's why this place works." His voice sharpened with pride. "Because we ain't animals. We're organized, we got rules, we got fear. Fear keeps dumbasses from fucking around."

Axel looked out the window. "Fear and fire. That's how you lead."

Negan smirked. "And fun. Don't forget fun."

Axel gave a small laugh. "You keep calling this fun."

"It is fun," Negan said. "You just don't know it yet."

The Sanctuary rose in the distance like a black, jagged fortress against the fading sky. The guards on the towers saw the truck rolling in and quickly moved to open the gates.

Axel watched the gates creak open, the world of the Sanctuary waiting behind the steel. He took one last drag from the cigarette and flicked it out the window.

"This place," he muttered, "is starting to feel like home."

Negan grinned, all teeth. "Told you. Heaven on Earth, baby."

The truck rolled through the gates, and behind them, the night swallowed the road whole.

---

The gates slammed shut behind them with a deep metallic groan, sealing the Sanctuary like a fortress swallowing its warlords.

Axel stepped out of the truck first, brushing dust off his jacket. His boots hit the concrete with weight. Inside the compound, people watched from corners and rooftops — not with open fear anymore, but with a brewing curiosity. Word had spread. What he did to Simon. What he did to Simon's men. The blood on the floor hadn't dried before whispers started.

And now he was back.

Negan came around the truck with Lucille slung over his shoulder, grinning like he just stepped out of a damn action movie.

"Alright, folks!" he called out, voice booming across the yard. "Daddy's home — and he's brought the goddamn Reaper with him!"

People flinched. Some smiled. A few laughed nervously. Axel didn't say a word, but his eyes scanned everything. Every face. Every movement. He was seeing who flinched, who stood tall, and who couldn't look him in the eye.

Inside the building, the higher-ups were waiting. They always were.

Dwight. Arat. Regina. A few others who'd managed to keep their heads down and play the Sanctuary game right. Some had grown quiet since Simon's "incident." Others had become more obedient, especially around Axel.

Negan tossed Lucille into her stand by the door and stretched.

"Someone get me a goddamn drink!" he barked. Then turned to Axel. "You coming, or you wanna brood somewhere all dramatic and mysterious?"

Axel followed without a word.

Inside the war room, the higher-ups stiffened as they entered. Axel took a seat at the table like it was his own. No invitation. No hesitation. Just presence.

Negan slumped in his chair, grabbed a bottle, poured himself a drink, and offered one to Axel.

Axel declined.

Negan looked around at the others. "What, no one's gonna ask how the trip went? No standing ovation for these two beautiful bastards coming back in one piece?"

Silence.

Arat finally broke it. "We heard there was… an incident. On the road."

Negan grinned. "You mean the poor bastards who tried to jump us? Yeah. They're fertilizer now."

Axel leaned forward, eyes sharp. "They weren't soldiers. They were desperate. Hungry. Could've been useful — if they had brains. They didn't."

His tone was ice, but his meaning clear: Don't confuse weakness for worth.

Regina spoke up. "And what now? You've made your point. Fear keeps people in line — but too much of it turns them all into ghosts."

Negan raised a brow, amused. "Well, shit. Philosophical today, huh?"

Axel stood.

"I don't care if they fear me. Or love me. That's your game," he said, glancing at Negan. "I'm here because I killed the bitch who murdered my family. I'm here because I carved Simon in half and nobody blinked. I'm not looking for a crown."

He started walking out but stopped at the door.

"But if anyone here — anyone — even thinks about hurting women or children in this place…" His voice dropped to a threat made of steel. "I will burn this sanctuary to ash from the inside out."

He left the room without waiting for a reaction.

Negan watched him go, sipped his drink, and muttered with a smirk, "Goddamn, I love that kid."

—

Outside, Axel returned to his room. The Katana — his father's blade — now leaned quietly by his bed. It was cleaned. Honored.

He sat down, ran his fingers along the edge, and let the silence settle.

He wasn't a king.

Not yet.

But they were watching.

And hell was listening.

---

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