twd: the last silence

Chapter 107 – Number One

The sun was already beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the metal and concrete of the Sanctuary. As Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Maggie made their way back through the compound with Negan, something caught Daryl's sharp eyes before they reached the gates.

There, past the courtyard and near the east wing, was a patch of ground flattened and lined with straw-filled dummies, old tires, and rebar pikes — a training ground.

And in the center of it, moving like liquid shadow through the air, was a man none of them recognized.

He was young — maybe mid-twenties — dressed in dark, simple clothes, with a long coat that moved like part of him. His back was turned to them, but the fluid violence in his motion was unmistakable. He struck three dummies in rapid succession, each blow precise and devastating. Then a roll, a flip, a slam — every movement cold, clean, perfect.

The man trained like war was a language, and he was writing poetry with his fists.

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is that?"

Negan followed his gaze, smirking as he leaned against a steel post. "Ohhh, you mean that? That's 'One.'"

"'One'?" Rick echoed, folding his arms. He's still remembers when he sends him here for axel but he doesn't really know him

"Yep," Negan replied, popping the 'p' with amusement. "Just a number. Number One."

Michonne tilted her head slightly. "He moves like… Axel."

Negan chuckled. "Well, that ain't a coincidence."

The group watched the young man disarm a sparring partner with a flick of his wrist and toss him across the dirt like a rag doll. When he turned, even from this distance, there was something eerily familiar in his expression — cold focus, mirrored calm. A fire deep behind the eyes, held on a leash.

Rick's stomach turned with realization.

"You know about that little village Axel built before he came here, right?" Negan asked, like he was telling an old war story. "The one built out of spite. Rage. And one hell of a need for revenge."

They all nodded.

"Yeah," Negan said with a breath. "That was a place born from hell and kept together with blood. Axel built it after the Nomads, after Alice — that bitch — ruined everything. You know the story."

Rick stared in silence. He did know it. They all did.

Axel had built a hidden village out in the deep woods. He'd trained people. Not just to survive — but to become weapons. Instruments of his vengeance. Most of them were civilians now, farmers, parents, peaceful.

But not all of them.

Negan pointed a finger toward the training ground.

"That beautiful bastard over there? He's one of the ten. Axel called them 'Numbers.' Trained them like hell. Broke them down and built them up to be perfect soldiers."

"Soldiers?" Maggie asked sharply.

"Soldiers," Negan confirmed. "Not killers. Not animals. Axel taught them discipline, control, tactics. All wrapped in one pretty little death package."

Silas turned for a moment, just briefly, as if sensing their gaze. His eyes met theirs from across the distance. Calm. Unshaken. Then he returned to training like nothing happened.

Daryl folded his arms. "He trained ten like that?"

"Yep. But don't get excited," Negan said. "Most of 'em are living normal lives now. Axel made sure of that. Only one still walks the path — that guy. Number One."

Michonne nodded slowly, taking in the way Silas moved, the way he carried himself.

"Why is he here?" Rick asked.

Negan rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "He came looking for axel back in the days and he found him here so he stayed here as well

When axel went to you guys he went back to the village to check on them see how are they and told them axel is alive and fine and now he came back and stayed here. He likes it here i guess."

"Why?" Rick asked again.

Negan's eyes turned serious for a moment — a rare, raw edge slipping through. "Because Axel saved him. That's why. Trained him. Gave him a name. Gave him a reason. The Numbers weren't just recruits — they were broken things. Axel didn't just turn them into weapons, he gave them a soul to fight for."

Rick was quiet, processing.

Negan continued. "Now One — Silas — yeah, he's loyal. But not blindly. He was but not anymore

That's the difference. Axel made him a soldier who thinks, not just kills. Which is probably why the guy's training right now instead of out there gutting people."

Maggie, who hadn't said much since entering the Sanctuary, finally spoke up. "He looked… young."

"He was," Negan said. "All of 'em were. Axel didn't recruit warriors. He took strays, orphans, abused kids, people who lost everything. Taught 'em to never be victims again."

Silas slammed a palm into the chest of another sparring partner, knocking him straight to the ground. Then helped the man up with a short nod.

"He doesn't talk much," Negan added. "But when he does, you listen."

Rick exhaled slowly. "So he's staying here now?"

Negan nodded. "Yeah. Said he doesn't belong out there yet. Said the world's too fragile for what he is. Sound familiar?"

Daryl looked away.

It did.

Rick looked at the training ground once more. Silas was now demonstrating disarming techniques to three Sanctuary men — all of them watching him like he was a god.

There was no arrogance in Silas. No showmanship. Just calm focus and razor-edge discipline.

"He's not dangerous," Negan said, picking up on the unspoken concern. "At least not unless someone gives him a reason to be."

"And Axel trusts him?" Rick asked.

Negan gave him a rare, sober look.

"Axel doesn't trust easily. But that one? He earned it."

They stood there in silence, watching Silas finish the lesson and dismiss the trainees. He grabbed a cloth and wiped sweat from his brow, then turned toward the mess hall.

Before disappearing, he gave the smallest nod in Rick's direction — acknowledging them, but not greeting them.

Then he was gone.

Rick finally turned to Negan.

"We came here looking for Axel. Found more than we expected."

"Yeah," Negan said. "You always do when he's involved."

Daryl spoke up again. "What happens if war finds its way here again?"

Negan raised a brow, looking toward the gate.

"Well then… I guess One won't be the only Number who comes back."

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