twd: the last silence

Chapter 109 – The Shadow at the Gate

The next day in Alexandria, the sun rose slow, casting long shadows across the wall.

And there, right in front of the main gate, stood a figure. Still as death. Silent.

He wore a black cloak, hood raised, covering his whole body like a ghost born from the forest itself.

The guards on the watchtower tensed. Guns in hand. Eyes narrowed.

"What the hell…?" one of them muttered, aiming down his sight.

Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Maggie arrived at the gate within minutes. They looked out — and saw the stranger standing there, alone, unmoving.

No one could see his face. No one recognized him.

And then… he moved.

Slowly, he drew his sword.

The long, curved blade shimmered beneath the light. He raised it — and pointed it directly at Rick and his people.

Not a word.

Just a silent challenge.

The air grew still.

Daryl stepped forward, tense. "Who the hell is that?"

Rick squinted, heart pounding. "I don't know…"

But Maggie… Maggie took a single step forward.

Her lips parted.

Because something in that stance… that smirk just barely seen beneath the hood…

She knew.

"…Axel?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

The figure didn't answer.

He didn't move. Didn't nod. Didn't even blink.

He just stood there, sword raised, like a statue born of blood and shadow.

Waiting.

Rick raised a hand. "Everyone stay calm. Don't shoot."

The guards lowered their weapons, but their fingers hovered over triggers.

A cold wind blew, stirring the dust at the gate. The figure's cloak danced with it, and still… nothing.

No movement. No words.

Just that sword. Just that challenge.

The people of Alexandria began to gather. Some whispered.

"That's not one of ours."

"Is it a whisperer?"

"Is it Axel?"

"Why the hell is he pointing a blade at Rick?"

Tension thickened like smoke.

And then, without another word, Michonne stepped forward.

She didn't wait for permission.

She walked slowly, blade already unsheathed.

The crowd parted like water. No one stopped her.

She walked out past the gate, the wind catching her dreadlocks, her katana steady in her hand.

She faced the cloaked figure, twenty feet apart.

"I don't know who you are," she said loudly, clearly, "but you're pointing a sword at my people."

The shadow didn't reply.

He lowered the sword just slightly, adjusting his grip.

Michonne narrowed her eyes.

"You came for a fight?" she asked. "Then let's fight."

Rick started to move. "Michonne, don't—"

But it was too late.

With one sudden motion, the cloaked figure lunged.

Fast.

Too fast.

Steel clashed.

Michonne blocked the strike, sliding backward from the force. "Shit… you're fast."

The figure danced back, cloak fluttering. He twirled the blade once and came again — precise, almost playful.

She struck again. Their swords met, again and again, the metallic echoes ringing out across Alexandria.

A duel. One the whole town could see.

But it wasn't war.

It was… something else.

A test.

Blades clashed, circled, collided again. Sparks flew.

Michonne breathed hard. The figure wasn't trying to kill her. She could feel it.

He was… showing off.

Taunting.

And she knew that smile now.

That ridiculous smirk behind the hood.

"Axel," she said, mid-swing.

Still no answer.

But the figure paused for one second — and in that second, Michonne reached up and knocked the hood off.

The whole town gasped.

Black.silver hair. Dirt-smudged skin. A crooked smile despite the bruises and bandage over his temple.

Axel.

He stood there, sword in hand, grinning like a kid caught doing something stupid.

"Well," he said finally, "someone had to come out and dance with me."

Michonne stared at him, breathless. "You idiot."

He winked.

Then stepped back, sword sliding into its sheath.

He turned to the stunned crowd.

"Can't a guy say hi the dramatic way anymore?"

Rick shook his head, a smile creeping to his lips despite himself.

Daryl chuckled. "Only you."

Maggie didn't laugh.

She ran.

She didn't say a word — just ran through the open gate and crashed into him, cloak and all, hugging him like she might never let go.

He stood still for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her.

"I was worried," she whispered, voice thick with tears.

Axel leaned down, forehead resting against hers.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."

The people of Alexandria didn't cheer. They didn't clap.

They just watched.

Because this wasn't about war or peace.

This was Axel.

And somehow, that meant something now.

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