After we said our goodbyes to Rick, Alex and I headed back to the chopper. The two pilots and the soldier snapped to attention the moment they saw me, saluting crisply. I just gave them a tired wave and said, "Let's go home. Our supplies are almost gone."
"That's because you keep gave them to Rick," Alex muttered from beside me. I could hear the frustration in his voice. "I don't get it… why are you helping him so much? Why him specifically?"
The chopper's engines rumbled to life, the blades beginning to spin as we climbed aboard. I looked at Alex, but the answer wasn't something I could give. "Not now," I told him quietly. "One day you'll understand."
If you're still alive by then, I added silently.
I'm also thinking about rescuing and recruiting Merle—Daryl's brother. But if I do that, I'll end up distorting the story even more. I always intended to be just a spectator, after all. Still, I know I'll intervene in some moments, but only when absolutely necessary, and only in small ways… like saving Carl.
Does that make me cruel?
Maybe yes, maybe no. This is my life, and our paths aren't meant to be the same.
Morgan was supposed to be the one who guided Rick, the first person to explain what happened to the world—where the walkers came from, how everything fell apart. In the original timeline, that knowledge and that first human connection belonged to him.
But now I've taken his place… and I honestly don't know what kind of consequences that will trigger.
Rick would definitely notice something strange. If Morgan ever mentions the word walker, Rick will remember that he heard it from me first. And the moment Rick realizes that Morgan and I never interacted—never even crossed paths—that's when things get messy. Suspicion will start forming, quietly at first, but it'll grow. He'll start wondering who's lying. Who's hiding something.
Or maybe… maybe it's all just coincidence. Maybe Rick won't connect the dots at all.
I hope it's the latter. I really do.
With that, the chopper lifted off, carrying us home and bringing this short, uneasy chapter of our journey to an end.
While Marcus was on his way home, the traitors of the Federation had gathered once more for a secret meeting.
"What do you guys mean—contacting outsiders?!" Ezzy's voice echoed through the cramped room, sharp with disbelief.
"Ezzy, calm down," James replied, leaning back in his chair as if everything was perfectly under control. "This is our only chance to take over the Federation."
"Yeah, what's the fuss about?" Quin and Finn chimed in, almost in unison.
Garry's face twisted with anger. "James, what do you mean by this? And you three—why wasn't I told?" His voice trembled with both fury and fear.
"Huh? What's with that face?" James asked, annoyingly casual.
"You—!" Garry snapped. "You don't even know what you're doing! Goddammit, you're an idiot—and so are these two!"
"Enough," James cut in. "We already reached a conclusion."
"What conclusion?" Ezzy demanded, still visibly shaken.
"Now we just need to prepare our people," Finn said confidently.
"The exciting part is about to begin," Quinn added with a grin that made Ezzy's stomach drop.
"How? The Federation is surrounded by a horde of zombies!" Ezzy shot back, horrified.
"Well," James said, looking smug, "we owe this one to Quinn. He came up with a perfect plan—digging and tunneling beneath the horde. With this, we can bypass them entirely. No detection, no resistance."
Garry's thoughts spiraled. I'm doomed, he realized. I should've kept a closer eye on these three idiots. Only Ezzy understands the real consequences of their insanity. Greed has blinded them all. They can't even imagine that outsiders could betray them… and now my dream of a ruling the Federation is already collapsing. Still, I have no choice but to play along—at least for now. I need to watch out for the other forces.
He cleared his throat. "When will they arrive?" he asked James calmly, hiding the panic inside.
"Tomorrow morning," James answered. "They'll bring thier full force. We should be ready by then."
"All right," Garry said, steadying his voice. "Since it's come to this… let's prepare. Gather our people. Return to your posts for now—we'll meet again at midnight. Dismissed."
The room emptied slowly, tension thick enough to choke on. Garry stood alone, already planning his next move.
Ezzy bolted out of the meeting room the moment Garry dismissed them. Panic was rising in his chest—he had to find Max and report everything before it was too late.
When he reached Max's office, he immediately scanned the room… empty. Not even a stray document left on the desk. He cursed under his breath and rushed back out into the hallway.
Spotting a guard nearby, Ezzy marched straight toward him.
"Hey, you! What's your name?" Ezzy barked, breathless.
"M-Me?" the guard stammered. "I'm Eli. Is something wrong, sir?"
Ezzy didn't have time to sugarcoat anything. "Where's Max?"
The moment Eli heard Ezzy refer to Max by name—not "Sir,"—his eyes widened. Only high-ranking officers dared to speak that casually. Whoever Ezzy was, he had to be someone powerful.
"Umm… sir," Eli replied quickly, straightening his posture, "sir Max is at the naval sector. He should be inspecting the new perimeter systems."
"Good. Thanks," Ezzy said, already turning to sprint away.
Eli watched him disappear down the hallway, scratching his head. "Hmm… what could that be about?" he muttered. "Well… whatever. No point frying my brain over it."
Then his expression brightened.
"I heard there's a new brand of ice cream coming out," he whispered to himself. "My favorite flavor, too… I've been missing it since this whole mess started."
A small droplet of drool slipped from the corner of his mouth as he imagined the taste.
In the Naval Sector—the sprawling part of the Federation lined with ships of every size—the air smelled of seawater and engine oil. Massive vessels rested in their docks like steel giants, while smaller patrol boats cut through the waves in the distance, keeping a steady watch.
Ezzy hurried across the piers, weaving around sailors and officers until he finally spotted Max near one of the command vessels.
"Max!" Ezzy called out, barely able to keep his panic contained.
Max turned, eyebrows raised. "Ezzy? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at—"
"No time," Ezzy cut him off, breathless. "I need to report something—something serious."
Max's expression hardened instantly. "Speak."
Ezzy swallowed and told him everything. The secret meeting. The traitors' plan. The outsiders. The tunnel. Every last dangerous detail.
For a moment, Max didn't move. His jaw tightened, his fists slowly clenched, and his eyes darkened with a rage Ezzy had never seen before.
"Those madmen!" Max exploded, his voice echoing across the docks. Several sailors turned their heads, startled.
"They'll doom the entire Federation with this insanity," Max growled. "Contacting outsiders? Sneaking behind the horde? They'll get us all killed!"
His anger radiated like heat, and Ezzy felt the weight of the coming storm settle on his shoulders.
Ezzy watched Max's fury rise like a storm, and a cold realization settled deep in his gut.
Those people… they're doomed, he thought.