chapter 85

Chapter 85 – "Shadows Begin to Fade"

The meeting slowly broke apart. People shuffled out of the hall, heads down, minds heavy with what they had just heard. No shouting. No arguments. Just silence—the kind that came after a truth no one was ready for, but couldn't ignore.

Axel didn't move. He sat in a corner, cigarette in hand, staring at the floor. He didn't care whether they accepted him or not. He wasn't here to convince anyone. He was just here… because something told him he needed to be.

Rick stood by the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable. He watched Axel in silence, thinking not of the man he once feared, but the one who just shared a piece of himself no one could have expected.

Then a small voice broke the quiet.

"Hey."

Axel looked up.

It was Judith.

She couldn't have been older than ten. She looked like Lori… and something in her reminded Axel of his little brother.

"You're the one who stopped the war, right?" she asked innocently.

Axel tilted his head, flicking ash from his cigarette. "Guess so."

Judith sat beside him without asking. "People are scared of you. But I'm not."

Axel blinked. "Why's that?"

She shrugged. "Because you're sad. I can tell."

Axel didn't respond. He took a long drag and looked away.

Judith continued, "My dad says sadness makes you human."

"Does he now?" Axel muttered, glancing at Rick for a second.

"He also said sometimes the hardest thing to do is forgive yourself."

Axel was quiet.

Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Your dad's smart."

Judith smiled. "Sometimes."

They both chuckled—just a little.

As night fell on Alexandria, something strange had happened. Axel didn't win them over with force or threats. He didn't need to. He had cracked something open in them—a thought, a question, a sliver of doubt in their hatred.

Later, as Axel walked through the streets, a few people nodded at him. One even said "Good evening." No one welcomed him with open arms, but they didn't spit on him either.

Inside one of the houses, Rick sat with Michonne, Daryl, and Carol.

"He didn't lie," Daryl said, arms resting on his knees. "I saw it in his face. That man's been through hell."

"He's dangerous," Carol said softly. "But maybe that's what we need right now. Someone dangerous… who remembers what it means to care."

Rick didn't speak.

He just stared at the map on the table.

At Alexandria.

At the future.

At the war he once thought was the only way forward.

But now… maybe not.

Not with Axel here.

Not anymore.

--

The next day

Night had fallen over Alexandria, but inside the council room, lanterns burned low and the air hung heavy.

Rick sat at the head of the table, arms resting on the worn wood. Around him were Michonne, Daryl, Carol, Gabriel, Aaron, and Maggie. No one spoke at first. They'd all heard what Axel said earlier. They'd all seen the way some people looked at him now—not with hate, but with something more dangerous: curiosity.

"He's not like Negan," Carol said finally. "He's something else. Something worse maybe—or something better. I don't know yet."

"He doesn't order people around," Aaron added. "He works with them. That means something."

Daryl leaned forward. "That man's been through hell. And he still came here… not swinging, but asking to stay."

Rick was silent.

Gabriel glanced at Rick, then said, "He's either a reformed man or the calm before the storm. But I saw his eyes. There's pain in him… and fire."

Rick finally looked at Maggie.

"What do you think?"

Maggie didn't answer for a moment. Then quietly, almost to herself, she whispered, "I don't know."

No one pressed her further.

Because they all felt the same.

None of them knew.

...

Axel sat on a bench outside one of the old greenhouses. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips. He wasn't smoking it. Just holding it, like a memory.

Footsteps approached.

He didn't look up.

"Something you need?" he asked.

The man stepped closer—broad shoulders, shaved head, cold eyes. One of the newer guards in Alexandria. His name was Milo.

"I'm just here to make something clear," Milo said. "You think people are warming up to you? Don't get comfortable."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Oh no. I live on edge. Comfort's boring."

Milo stepped right in front of him now. "You might have tricked the others with your sad little story, but I see through that act. You're not some savior. You're a walking graveyard."

Axel finally stood. Slowly. Taller than Milo. Leaner too.

"I never said I was a savior," Axel said calmly. "I'm not a hero. I'm just trying to not be the devil anymore."

Milo sneered. "You keep saying that, but I don't buy it. If you make one wrong move—one—I'll put a bullet in your skull myself."

Axel smiled.

Not cruelly.

Almost… pitying.

"You're scared of me," he said.

Milo flinched. "What?"

"That's why you're barking. Dogs bark when they're scared. You think if you growl loud enough, I'll play dead. But here's the thing…"

Axel took a step closer.

"I've already died once. Screaming doesn't scare me anymore."

Milo's hand twitched toward his holster, but Axel just stared at him. Calm. Unmoving. Unblinking.

Then Axel leaned in and whispered, "If you want to be the one to pull that trigger, you better do it now… because if I decide to be a monster again, you'll be the first to go."

Milo froze.

Then, after a long, tense moment… he stepped back and walked away.

Axel sat down again, let the unlit cigarette dangle from his fingers, and whispered to himself:

"One day, I'll be better. Or I'll be dead trying."

---

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