Chapter 68 :"The Return of Number One"
The morning sky was overcast, draped in a smoky gray that matched the aura of the Sanctuary—unwelcoming, cold, and watchful.
Boots echoed across the concrete as Axel walked through the main corridor of the Sanctuary, each step calm and deliberate. At his side walked Silas—silent, stoic, and dangerous. His eyes scanned the halls with a ghost's detachment. The soldiers they passed glanced at him with confusion and quiet unease. Something about Silas felt... wrong. Like a shadow that walked too upright.
Negan, leaning on the railing of the upper level, sipping coffee with his usual swagger, saw them first.
His brows rose.
"Well, holy fuck," he muttered, voice carrying through the metal beams. "Who the hell is this with you, kid? Another moody bastard you picked up off the highway?"
Axel didn't even glance up.
"He's no one."
Silas didn't flinch at the dismissal. He accepted it like scripture.
Negan gave a low whistle and smirked, eyes gleaming with interest. "No one, huh? That's the creepiest no one I've ever seen."
He laughed to himself, spinning Lucille lazily in one hand as Axel and Silas disappeared down the corridor.
---
The War Room
Inside the War Room, tension simmered.
A large table was covered in maps, radio transmissions, and scouted reports from outposts. Dwight stood at the center, addressing a few lieutenants. They were in the middle of discussing Alexandria's recent movements—how Rick had started mobilizing again, how new faces had been seen coming and going from Hilltop and Oceanside.
"Rick's building something," one of the commanders said. "We don't know what yet, but there are signs. Trade routes, resource gathering, armed patrols expanding."
"He's getting ready," another added. "Maybe not now. Maybe not tomorrow. But it's coming."
Just then, the door creaked open, and the room fell silent as Axel stepped inside, the weight of his presence forcing a lull over the discussion.
Behind him, Silas entered and stood at the door like a statue. His eyes scanned the room but gave away nothing.
Axel didn't acknowledge anyone immediately. He walked straight to the table and glanced down at the maps. For a long time, he said nothing.
Dwight cleared his throat. "We were just—"
"I heard."
Axel's voice was flat, uninterested.
"He's trying to build an army," said one of the lieutenants.
"And?"
"And… he's coming for us."
Axel finally looked up, his gaze cold and dispassionate.
"No. He's not coming for us. He's coming for me."
Silas stepped forward slightly, eyes still lowered.
Dwight narrowed his eyes. "Then what's the plan?"
Axel's finger tapped once on Alexandria's marked location on the map.
"We give him time."
The room exchanged confused glances.
"Time?" one man asked. "Why the hell would we—?"
Axel raised a hand, silencing him.
"I want to see how far he'll go. I want to see what he's willing to risk. What he's willing to sacrifice."
He looked up. "This isn't about war. This is about breaking him."
Negan entered the room just then, whistling, Lucille resting on his shoulder. He looked between everyone and grinned.
"Now that's the goddamn fire I missed. Looks like my boy's back in murder-poet mode."
He eyed Silas again. "Still not gonna tell me who this edgy son of a bitch is?"
Axel didn't smile. "He's one of the Numbers."
Negan stopped. His smirk faltered.
"You serious?" he said. "I thought they were a myth."
"No," Axel replied. "They were real. Tools I forged once. And now…" he looked at Silas. "One has returned."
Negan leaned back, half-impressed, half-wary.
"Well, shit. Looks like Rick's about to walk into a war zone of biblical proportions."
Axel took a cigarette from his coat, lighting it calmly. The first puff of smoke drifted through the air like a slow-burning omen.
"Let him build his army," he muttered. "Let him gather his allies. Let him feel hope again."
He looked to the room, expression unreadable.
"And when he's ready…"
He turned back to the map and whispered,
"I'll remind him that I don't fight wars."
"I end them."
....
The War Room was still thick with tension. Maps lay sprawled across the table, radios buzzed with half-heard chatter, and nervous glances darted toward Silas, who hadn't moved from his spot by the door. His presence was like a loaded gun resting on the table—silent but dangerous.
Negan leaned back in his chair, grinning like a man watching fireworks explode in the distance.
"Well, goddamn," he chuckled, sipping from his flask. "Now this… this is getting fun."
One of his lieutenants, a younger man named Carter, finally stepped forward. His voice was hesitant but firm.
"Why don't we just go finish Rick now?" Carter asked. "We know where he is. We know he's building something. Why wait? Why not strike first and end it while we have the advantage?"
It was a logical question. Simple. Direct.
But the moment it left his mouth, both Axel and Negan turned and looked at him like he'd just suggested burning the Sanctuary down for warmth.
Negan tilted his head. "You serious right now?"
Carter hesitated. "Yes, sir. It just—"
"No, no. Stop. Just stop," Negan waved a hand. "That's the dumbest shit I've heard since someone said canned peaches were better than fresh. Jesus, kid."
Axel exhaled smoke slowly, turning toward Carter with the same expression someone might give a dog trying to read a book.
"You think this is about winning?" Axel asked, voice quiet but cutting. "You think I care about efficiency?"
He took a step forward, his eyes never blinking.
"I could send him," Axel said, gesturing to Silas with two fingers. "Just one. And he'd kill Rick and his people in a single night. Like turning off a light switch."
Carter's brows furrowed. "Then why—"
"But where's the fun in that?"
Negan laughed, loud and real. "Now that's the right question!"
Axel smiled faintly—not with warmth, but with something far more dangerous.
"I'm not interested in killing Rick. Not yet. I want to watch him break. I want to see his hope grow, stretch... and then shatter like glass."
He leaned closer to the table.
"I want him to look around one day and realize everything he built means nothing. That it was all just a long, slow walk toward the inevitable."
Silas stood behind them like a silent echo.
Negan clapped his hands, standing now, energized.
"You see, that's a performance! That's art! That's poetry wrapped in barbed wire, baby. We don't just kill Rick Grimes. We make him beg for the end."
Axel flicked ash onto the floor and looked at Carter one last time.
"If you want fast, clean, and simple," he said. "Then you're in the wrong goddamn story."
And with that, the room fell silent once more.
Because now they understood—
This wasn't just a war.
It was Axel's masterpiece.
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