"Society's collapsed, and those monsters are everywhere. My methods are the only ones that work if we're to survive this. If you can't see that, then I don't need your faith. I'll save humanity without your help." — Oberson Crawford
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[Third Person Pov]
Yhwach approached Andrew, as the pitiful creature was struggling to prop himself up, one hand clutching his chest where the blood had begun to seep into his shirt. His broken glasses hung askew on his face, the remnants of his weapon lying just out of reach.
Yhwach kicked the pistol away as he planted a foot firmly on Andrew's chest, pinning him to the ground without a shred of concern. Andrew grunted in pain, coughing up blood as his hands weakly grasped at Yhwach's boot.
"I wonder," Yhwach began as if speaking to himself, "did Oberson Crawford foresee this collapse when he built his brittle empire? Did he imagine his loyal dogs turning on one another like rabid animals?" He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. "Or perhaps you and your kind were simply another tool—expendable, disposable."
Andrew's bloodshot eyes darted up to meet Yhwach's, his lips trembling. "You—you're not—" He coughed violently, a spurt of blood spilling from his mouth, mixing with the dirt beneath him. "You're not one of us. You—"
"I see you're still trying to make sense of it all," He leaned down slightly, the air around him seeming to darken. "Tell me, how does it feel? To lose everything? To realize how Oberson Crawford's little plan ended up in such a pitiful failure"
Andrew's bloodied lips trembled, "Fuck...you. You don't know...what we've been through."
Yhwach glared down at Andrew as he aimed his pistol at the man's bloodied chest. Andrew sputtered weakly.
"You... don't understand," Andrew wheezed, his voice trembling but defiant. "Oberson... he—"
Before Andrew could finish, Yhwach shifted his boot from Andrew's chest to his neck. Andrew's eyes bulged as his hands shot up, desperately trying to push Yhwach's foot away. The adrenaline coursing through him granted a fleeting burst of strength, but it was a futile affort.
"You're mistaking me," Yhwach said, his voice low and cold. "For someone who cares to understand."
Andrew gasped, his grip weakening, when a faint whistle in the air brushed against Yhwach's senses. His reikaku flared, warning him of danger, and in an instant, he tilted his head slightly to the side. A bullet zipped past, grazing the air where his temple had been only moments before.
Yhwach turned his gaze toward the source, his eyes narrowing at the sight of a group of survivors stepping through the smoke and debris. The lead figure held a rifle, Despite the dirt and blood marring his uniform, there was no mistaking him—Crawford Oberson.
Yhwach's eyes narrowed as recognition flickered in them. He muttered the name under his breath, barely audible.
"Oberson Crawford."
Andrew's glazed eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching. His broken glasses slipped off his nose, falling to the blood-streaked ground. Weakly, he craned his neck to see, his face contorting with disbelief. "No... it can't be... Oberson..."
Yhwach's response was merciless. Without a word, he applied pressure, snapping Andrew's neck with a sharp, final motion. The lifeless body collapsed in an unceremonious heap, and Yhwach stepped back, watching dispassionately as the soul fragment he sought merged into his being.
But Yhwach wasn't finished. he kicked Andrew's lifeless head toward Crawford and his men, Blood smeared across the ground as the head rolled to a stop a few feet away from Crawford.
Walkers began to encroach on the scene from all sides, their guttural growls growing louder.
The two monsters locked eyes. Crawford's lips moved, forming words that Yhwach easily read: "Mark my words... next time we meet..."
The rest of the phrase was lost as the growing horde of walkers swarmed between them. Yhwach's hand tightened around the knife he held as a walker lunged toward him. He dispatched it with a clean stab to the skull and delivered a brutal kick to another, He noted Crawford retreating with his men, their silhouettes fading into the darkness of the night.
A gunshot echoed nearby. Yhwach turned his head just in time to see Lee lowering his pistol. Yhwach approached Lee, The walkers were closing in now, drawn by the noise. He placed a firm hand on Lee's shoulder, causing the man to flinch slightly but look up at him.
"We must go," Yhwach said firmly. "Walkers are closing in."
Lee hesitated, glancing down at Carley's lifeless body. "What about...?"
"I've already handled it," Yhwach interrupted, "The dead belong to this place now. You do not."
Lee clenched his jaw, but he knew there was no time for debate. With a final glance at Carley, he nodded and followed Yhwach toward the open manhole.
As they descended into the sewers, the muffled sounds of the undead above grew fainter. Lee paused to cover the hatch, his hands trembling slightly. When he turned back, Yhwach was already moving ahead, his steps echoing faintly in the dim tunnel.
Yhwach remained silent, his mind briefly dwelling on Oberson's parting words. Next time, Crawford...I will ensure there is no escape.
[Timeskip & Scene Break Location: The Group, Savannah, The House]
Lee made his way to the gate, the other members of his group filing in slowly behind him. When he and Yhwach made their way down to the sewers, everyone asked questions about what had happened to the other members. From the look on Lee's face, it became clear that Boyd and Carley had perished in the battle.
Nobody really said anything after that besides Vernon giving directions to follow him back to the house. Everyone else was lost in their own grief. Yes, they had gotten supplies for the boat and freed Lilly. Yes, they had gotten more medicine for their group.
Was the cost worth it?
Losing Katjaa and Doug was bad enough, but three more people?!
Could he really justify that to himself by saying that they succeeded in their mission, so at least their deaths were for nothing?
He didn't know if he could.
Ben had already seen them from the window and opened the back door once Lee and the others safely made it into the backyard.
"You guys made it! Quick, come inside!"
Ben ushered everyone in, but Lee didn't miss the inquisitive look he held at the group's somber mood before he could get very far, a pair of tiny arms wrapped around his side.
"Lee, you're back! You made it!" exclaimed Clementine.
Despite his mood, Lee let out a small smile at Clementine's innocent tone. He kneeled down and hugged her almost thanking God that he was able to come back and see her one more time.
Lee managed a small smile, kneeling to Clementine's level as she hugged him tightly. "I did. I told you I'd be fine. Did you behave for Ben?"
Clementine nodded eagerly. "Yeah! We all played Uno, and guess what, Lee? I won!"
Duck piped up immediately. "Yeah, she won, but then I won next, and then Ben won—but he cheated!"
"I didn't cheat, Duck," Ben replied with an exasperated sigh. "You just don't understand the rules."
Clementine giggled at their bickering before her smile faltered. "Did you get all the parts and everything?"
Kenny stepped forward, "Yeah, we did. Got fuel and battery for the boat, saved Lilly, and even got some more medicine for the entire group. I'll get the boat ready in the morning and whoever wants to come with me is welcome." Kenny said.
Usually, the sea-faring man would be a lot happier about this turn of events, but even his voice seemed to break—he looked like someone who was barely holding himself together.
Ben's cheerful demeanor faltered as he scanned the returning group. His smile turned to a frown when he realized who was missing. "Hey, where's Mark? Is he hiding in the back?"
Clementine chimed in, her voice hesitant. "What about Carley? And... that other guy with Vernon?"
"Boyd," Ben corrected softly, his expression hopeful as he looked around.
Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh as he steeled himself for what he knew had to be said. He couldn't avoid it any longer. "I don't know how to tell you this, but... they... they—"
"They died. They didn't make it." finished Lilly.
Ben's face froze, a shallow breath escaping him as he processed her words. At first, he blinked, unsure if he'd heard right. Then a shaky laugh left his lips, too soft, too unsure to be convincing. "Alright, that's a great joke," he said with a forced smile, "Really funny. You must have them hiding in the back or something, right? Well, you certainly fooled me."
Yhwach, who had remained silent up until now, stepped forward. "Ben, I assure you, no one here is lying—or trying to fool you." he said.
The weight of Yhwach's words silenced Ben, his hopeful expression crumbling. He looked down at the floor, his shoulders shaking slightly as he sniffled. Clementine and Duck exchanged wide-eyed, somber glances.
"Carley died? She was so strong and so was everyone else." retorted Clementine.
"I know she was, Clem, but sometimes...even strong people die when you least expect it. That's...how it is now." Lee replied.
From behind him, Yhwach's eyes narrowed as his thoughts drifted, silently contradicting Lee's sentiment. Strength, when wielded properly, could prevent death. The losses tonight had been avoidable—had they followed his guidance more closely.
Lee kneeled down and opened his arms up, an invitation which Clementine quickly accepted and started crying. Duck went over to his dad and hugged him which Kenny returned fiercely. Nobody said anything for a few moments. They just allowed the emotion of the night to speak for itself.
For a few moments, no one spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with grief and exhaustion.
Finally, Kenny broke the silence, his voice tinged with guilt. "I don't mean to sound insensitive, but...we need to figure out who's going on the boat and who isn't."
Lee's head snapped up, meeting Kenny's eyes. "Kenny..."
"What?!" Kenny retorted, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact we've got limited room and a whole group to think about? Crawford's gone, we've got the boat parts, and I'm sure none of us want to stick around in Savannah any longer."
"Let's save that discussion for another time," Yhwach interjected. "Spend time with your son, Kenny. Decisions can wait."
Kenny looked at Yhwach, his expression softening slightly as he hugged Duck closer. He gave a reluctant nod, stepping back to sit with his son.
Across the room, Larry let out a groan and clutched his side, Lilly looked at him in concern and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dad, you've been pushing yourself too hard. Come on, let's get you upstairs so you can rest."
"I'm fine, Lilly," Larry grumbled, brushing her hand away. "I'm not some helpless old man." But the pain etched in his face betrayed his words. After a moment, his voice softened. "You're just as stubborn as me, you know that? Go rest yourself. You've been through just as much today."
Chuck, sitting off to the side, chuckled dryly, rubbing his sore jaw. "You two ain't the only ones who took a beating. You need to rest your body just as much as me"
Ben perked up, looking between them. "Wait—a beating? so a fight?"
Chuck waved him off, leaning back lazily. "Had a bit of a scrap at Crawford. Lilly, Larry, Boyd, and I ran into some fool while we were tryin' to get Lilly out. Guy had a decent hook, I'll give him that."
"You're hurt too, Chuck," Isaac pointed out, concern creeping into his tone. "Shouldn't you rest?"
Chuck shook his head with a tired smile. "I'm fine, kid. I'll swap out later. I just need to stay up for a while, or I won't be tired enough to sleep. Ain't as young as I used to be."
Marcus straightened up. "I'll take over for you when you're ready."
Lee let out a weary sigh, rising to his feet as he glanced around the dimly lit room. "Alright, here's the plan. Lilly, Larry, you two take one of the bedrooms upstairs and get some rest. The kids can have the other one. Everyone else—find a place to sleep down here or wherever you can. We've all had a rough day."
Lilly nodded, gently guiding her father toward the staircase despite his grumbling protests. Clementine and Duck stayed close to Kenny and Lee for a moment before following along, their earlier enthusiasm now subdued by the room's heavy atmosphere.
Vernon stepped forward, his practical nature kicking in. "Before we all call it a night, we should move the supplies closer to the light," he suggested, gesturing to the scattered bags. "It'd be good to take stock of what we've got—food, medicine, weapons—so we're not scrambling tomorrow if we leave."
Yhwach, who had been silently observing the exchange, raised a hand in a gesture that immediately drew everyone's attention. "That will not be necessary."
Vernon turned to him, eyebrows furrowing. "And why's that? It makes sense to get organized before we—"
"Because I have deemed it unnecessary," Yhwach interrupted, "I believe I stated earlier that tomorrow, we shall have a discussion regarding Kenneth's plan. Until then, any hasty decisions will only cause problems among us. Rest is what you all need now—not division over resources."
Vernon opened his mouth to argue but found himself unable to meet Yhwach's gaze for long. He sighed and stepped back. "Fine. Tomorrow."
With that, Lilly, Larry, Lee, Kenny, Clementine, and Duck went upstairs. Ben, Isaac, and Marcus took the couch and the chairs around the dining room table. Chuck, Vernon, and Yhwach both took watch on opposite sides of the house.
[Timeskip: Yhwach, Savannah, The House]
Yhwach stood by the second-story window, Chuck and Vernon were seated at the dining room table behind him, quietly discussing supplies and plans.
Although there had been casualties—Carley's death, Boyd's sacrifice—it was all within what I envisioned, he thought, Every action, every decision, every loss carried weight, yet none tipped the scales beyond his calculated boundaries. The memories from Carley, Mark, and Boyd weren't of much use in long-term value but they had their uses.
Yhwach's expression hardened as his thoughts turned to Andrew—no, Andrew Anderson Andrews, or "Triple-A," as some had mockingly called him. A peculiar name, but not the strangest name Yhwach had encountered in his long existence. Andrew had been a cornerstone of Crawford's crumbling empire, a loyal dog propping up its fragile foundations. Andrew's loyalty to Crawford had been absolute, and yet, it had not saved him. It rarely did for men like him. Tools, discarded the moment they outlive their usefulness.
Still, it was Andrew's death that had elicited the most intriguing reaction of the night: the look on Oberson Crawford's face.
Though Crawford's face had remained calm, there had been no mistaking the anger that simmered beneath. He'd been seething—probably furious that his most trusted ally had died by his hands, and that his carefully constructed community was now in ruins. A failure, Yhwach thought with a soft snort of disdain.
Their community would have failed, Yhwach mused. By their own hands, or by the walkers. Either way, it is irrelevant. There is rebellion within them, and they cannot overcome it. Crawford's methods are flawed at their core. He'd suspected as much about Crawford's brand of leadership, and now the memories he'd obtained had confirmed it. Crawford's belief in survival of the fittest was not just a cruel ideology—it was a path to destruction.
Crawford is no leader. He lacks the capacity to be one. His community thrived not because of him but in spite of him—on the backs of those like Andrew, who shouldered the burden. Oberson was merely a figurehead, a vile and despotic one at that. Yet Crawford had built his regime on cruelty, casting out the weak, the vulnerable, the inconvenient. Pregnant women, children, the elderly—they were all liabilities to be eliminated or abandoned. And those who dared defy him? They get impaled and left to reanimate.
He had read enough in Andrew's memories to understand the depths of Crawford's cruelty.
Yhwach's eyes glinted coldly. Despicable, yes, but cunning. That was the key. Oberson's reign had been doomed long before Yhwach arrived, and his community's downfall was inevitable either by his own or by them. What Yhwach had done was merely hasten the collapse. Survivors likely remained—between five and thirty, assuming the walkers hadn't claimed them—but their future was irrelevant. Crawford's rule was over.
A faint, rare smile touched his lips, a reflection of satisfaction that everything was proceeding as arranged. Even in death, Carley had played her part, imparting an invaluable lesson to Lee. It would not go unheeded. Yhwach would see to that personally.
Yhwach's gaze turned slightly inward, his thoughts focused on one particular individual. Isaac. The boy intrigues me. I've seen that flicker of doubt in his eyes, the quiet resentment. It's the kind of thing people overlook, if they aren't paying close attention. He shifted slightly, his eyes reflecting an analytical coldness. But I see it. And I will not let it grow unchecked. If that resentment turns into something more... well, that's a problem I don't need.
He let out a small sigh. But his behavior so far indicates he lacks any real loyalty. He is a man without conviction, someone who would turn on those he once followed the moment it became convenient. A perfect puppet, if he can be kept in check.
Yhwach glanced out the window for a moment, his gaze looking over the distance as if searching for some hidden truth within the night. He reminds me of Justin. The same instability, the same self-centeredness. I think the two would have understood each other well. A shame Justin is dead—his potential, is wasted.
His gaze lingered a moment longer before he turned away from the window, his steps deliberate as he walked toward the study. The night was quiet now, save for the faint shuffle of walkers in the distance. For a brief moment, Yhwach allowed himself to savor the stillness.
Everything is progressing according to my arrangement.
[Scene Break Location: Abandoned House, Near the Old Crawford School ]
The once-abandoned house was now a temporary refuge as Oberson Crawford sat alone in a small side room, the door cracked just enough to let faint sounds of the ruckus filter in. his hands trembled as he cleaned his rifle. He refused to dwell on the events that had forced them to retreat from their base.
In the main room, Theodore knelt beside the lifeless body of his lover. Tears streamed freely down his face, dripping onto the bloodstained sheet beneath her. "I told you not to go out there," he whispered, voice breaking. "Why didn't you listen? Why didn't you stay with me?"
Cameron leaned against a crate of supplies nearby, his own expression heavy with grief. Though he rarely showed it, Theodore was like a brother to him. "Theo..." he said softly, hesitating before continuing. "She wouldn't want you to break like this. She'd want you to keep fighting. For her."
Theodore shot him a withering glare. "Don't. Don't you dare tell me what she would want. You didn't know her like I did." His voice cracked again, but this time with anger.
Micah, meanwhile, paced the length of the room, his boots scuffing against the worn wooden floor. He waved his arms animatedly as he spoke, his voice sharp and biting.
"Hell, I told y'all this'd happen," Micah sneered, his lips curling into a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Ain't no point in cryin' over spilt milk or spilt blood, for that matter. Weak ones die, strong ones live. That's how it's always been."
Morgan, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, fixed Micah with a glare. "Damn it, Micah, ain't you got no decency? That boy just lost someone he loves. Show some goddamn respect."
Micah snorted, stopping mid-stride to smirk at Morgan. "Respect? Respect don't keep you alive, boyo. If you wanna play Big Brother, go ahead. Me? I'm just telling it like it is."
Morgan shook his head, disgusted. "There's more to life than just survivin'. And if you can't see that, you're more lost than I thought."
Before Micah could retort, the door burst open, drawing everyone's attention. Lucas stumbled in, Oswald slung over his shoulder. Tears streamed down Lucas's face.
"Help me! Someone, please!" he cried, nearly collapsing under Oswald's weight. Blood soaked through Oswald's shirt, pooling at his waist where a vicious bite marred his abdomen. Lucas's face was streaked with tears as he looked around desperately.
Theodore looked up from his vigil, his expression hollow. Cameron straightened, rushing to Lucas's side to help lower Oswald onto one of the couches of the house.
"He's been bitten," Lucas choked out, his voice trembling. "There's gotta be something we can do."
"Goddammit, not another one!" growled Roger, slamming his fist on the table.
Bruno shook his head grimly. "We're not equipped to deal with this. We don't have the meds, and even if we did—" He didn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear.
Valentina rose from where she sat beside Kevin, who remained unconscious in a chair, his bandaged body leaning heavily against its back. Her eyes darted to Oswald and then to Lucas. "We can't just let him die. We have to try something!"
"Try what?" snapped Frederick, his voice tight with frustration. "We amputate him? You've seen the bite. That works for arms and legs, not the stomach."
Lucas dropped to his knees, cradling Oswald's head as tears poured down his cheeks. "Please," he begged, "he's all I have left."
Oswald coughed weakly, his voice barely audible. "It's... it's okay, Lucas. Just... don't let me turn. Promise me."
"No!" Lucas shouted, shaking his head violently. "I won't let that happen. I won't let you go!"
Valentina approached, her eyes softening as she knelt beside them. "Lucas," she said gently, "you have to make a choice. If we don't act soon... he'll turn. You know that."
Lucas looked around the room, desperate for someone—anyone—to offer another option. But no one spoke up until a young woman named Sylvia spoke up. "We can't keep losing people like this. We have to find a better way. Maybe... maybe there's a way to treat bites we haven't thought of yet."
"Oh, give me a break," muttered Micah, rolling his eyes. "Ain't no cure, sweetheart. You get bit, you're done. End of story."
"Shut your damn mouth, Micah!" Morgan snapped, stepping forward. He crouched beside Oswald, grimacing at the sight of the wound. "Lucas, how long ago did this happen?"
Lucas wiped his face, his hands shaking. "Maybe... an hour. We tried to get him out of there fast, but..." His voice cracked. "I couldn't—"
"It's not your fault," Morgan said firmly. He looked around the room, meeting everyone's eyes. "We need to act now. Someone get me a belt or somethin' to use as a tourniquet. We might not save him, but we can damn well try."
Cameron hesitated, then nodded, unbuckling his own belt. "Here," he said, handing it over.
As Morgan worked to slow the bleeding, Theodore finally spoke. "Why... why do we even try anymore? People keep dying. It never stops."
Morgan paused, looking up at Theodore. His expression softened. "Because tryin' is all we've got left. If we stop, then we're already dead."
Oswald groaned weakly. His tired eyes opened, fixing on Lucas and Morgan. "It's... it's okay, Lucas," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You gotta... let me go."
"No! Don't you dare say that," Lucas choked out, tears streaming down his face. "I'm not giving up on you!"
Valentina knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Lucas... we've already lost so many. Don't make us lose you too."
From the corner, one of the women, a dark-haired women named Lucy, finally spoke up. "We're falling apart," she began. "If we can't come together.... then it doesn't matter how many of us are still breathing. We're already done."
Jonathan, one of the quieter members, raised his voice to try and calm down his fellow comrades. "Enough! We can't afford to turn on each other. If we lose what little control we've got left, we're all as good as dead."
Frederick sighed, looking at Oberson's closed door. "The question is, who's still willing to follow Oberson? And who's got the guts to challenge him if it comes to that?"
Nolan was pacing near the boarded-up window, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor. "This whole thing's a mess, and you all know it. Oberson's too busy sulking to lead, and now we're sittin' here waitin' for the biters to tear through the goddamn walls." He sneered, gesturing wildly. "We shoulda made a run for the church instead of this god-awful house!"
Back in his room, Oberson could hear the commotion but didn't move to intervene. Instead, he stared at a faded photograph on the table—one of Crawford before the fall. His jaw tightened.
Let them squabble. If they can't handle this, they're not worth saving.
[Scene Break Location: Lee's Nightmare]
His body jolted awake as his eyes noticed the familiar room. At first, he thought he was experiencing the same dream he had experienced countless times before, but he soon noticed the striking difference.
This...this Is the motel.
It wasn't the first time he'd been yanked into a nightmare. But this one—this one felt different. Usually, it was the same damn thing: his wife, her accusations, the suffocating guilt. This? This wasn't that.
Very odd...
Lee barely had time to dwell on the thought before a faint tug on his hand froze him in place.
"Lee..."
The voice was faint but unmistakable. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he whipped his head around.
Carley.
She was lying there, her face pale and drawn, Blood smeared her clothes Just like before. It was exactly how he remembered her in those last, horrible moments.
No... Why...
"No..." he whispered, his breath hitching. His chest tightened painfully as he dropped to his knees beside her.
His heart immediately crumbled within itself when he saw the same gruesome picture when he held Carley into his arms before she ultimately died.
"Lee.. I trusted you.." He heard Carley say to him with those eyes that were filled with pain and betrayal.
"I'm sorry," Lee croaked, his voice breaking under the weight of his guilt. Tears streamed down his face as he leaned closer, his hands trembling as they hovered over her, unsure what to do. "Carley, I—I didn't mean for this. I didn't... I didn't want this."
"It doesn't matter now," she murmured, a faint, hollow smile appeared across her lips. "I'm dead anyway."
"No! Don't say that! You—" His said as he gripped her hand, his other hand pressing against her wound as if he could stop the life from slipping away. "Stay with me, Carley. Please!"
But it was futile. He felt her hand go limp.
"Carley? No, no, no!" His voice cracked as he shook her gently, desperate to bring her back. But her eyes—once so full of fire—lost their light entirely.
And then, silence.
[End of Lee's Nightmare]
"CARLEY!" Lee jolted awake from his nightmare, his body drenched in sweat. But upon noticing the familiar study room. His face turned bitter.
It was just a dream.
Wasn't it?
Lee stared blankly at the window. The ache in his chest hadn't faded, and his face twisted with bitterness.
Because no matter how many times he woke up, that feeling never left him.
Lee blinked and put his head in his hands. They had gone through so much that he had almost forgotten how their relationship had started. She was a no-nonsense reporter who viewed him as an untrustworthy criminal, but someone who wasn't inherently evil. She gave him a chance as Yhwach did.
Each death hurt him a lot. Some hurt more than others, but each one hurt him like he was their family member because that's how he viewed himself and the group. They were family and losing family fucking sucked.
Maybe, if he remembered who she was before, it would make the pain go away.
I know who you are. You're Lee Everett. You're a professor at Athens who killed a state senator who was sleeping with your wife.
You seem like an okay guy, and the last thing we need is drama out there.
Once we're someplace safe, you can tell me your side of the story.
Lee, you know what happened doesn't have to make you a bad man, right?
You know why I look up to you despite your past? Your kind nature and willingness to help others.
Always do the right thing. Even if it's hard, always do the right thing.
I'm your friend and friends help each other out.
It's a tough call, but I trust you, Lee.
That's one of the main jobs of being a leader. Protecting your people.
Whatever happened in the old world doesn't matter as much compared to what you have done for everyone in this world.
Don't beat yourself up if something happens. That's just life and we have to keep moving forward.
Well, you're one of my best friends, so I think that makes you very special.
You saved us from the St. Johns, you saved us from the bandits, and you'll save Lilly from this place. That's the Lee we all know and believe in.
Do you really think any of us could have done the job you've done?
You don't need to convince us that you'll get us through this, because your presence alone convinces us.
I'm just glad...that I got to meet you.
Everyone back there is alive...because of you, so you have to...live for them.
Just because...my story ends here...doesn't mean your job is done.
You have to...continue to live...and fight...to make your dream come true.
Lee didn't know when he had started bawling like a baby, but he had. He didn't know when someone had come in and slightly shut the door to give Lee some privacy, but they had.
Lee wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself as the study room door creaked open. He looked up to see Clementine standing there, her small frame illuminated by the faint moonlight seeping through the window. She was trembling slightly, clutching her D hat in her hands.
"Lee.." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I had a bad dream."
Lee didn't say anything at first. He simply stood, walked over to her, and wrapped her in a gentle hug. Clementine's small arms reached up to hold onto him tightly as she buried her face in his chest. They both stayed like that.
After a moment, Clementine began to sob softly, her emotions spilling out as Lee held her close. He could feel his own tears welling up again, but he didn't fight them this time. Together, they vented their emotions, releasing all the pain and sorrow that had built up over the harrowing days they'd endured.
When their tears finally ran dry, Lee knelt to Clementine's level and gently wiped her cheeks with his thumb. "It's okay, sweet pea," he said softly, his voice steadying. "I'm here. You're safe."
Clementine nodded, sniffling as she tried to smile. "I know. I just...miss everyone."
Lee hugged her again, nodding silently. He didn't have the words to fix what she was feeling, but he knew he could at least be there for her.
Unbeknownst to them, Isaac had quietly made his way up the stairs and overheard their exchange. He paused at the top of the staircase, his expression softening as he watched the heartfelt moment between Lee and Clementine. After a moment of contemplation, he took a step forward, rapping lightly on the study doorframe.
Lee turned, his arm still around Clementine, and saw Isaac standing there with a thoughtful look on his face.
"Isaac," Lee said, a bit surprised. "What are you doing here?"
Isaac offered a small smile. "Oh, hey there, buddy," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd check on everyone. Looks like I wasn't the only one awake."
Lee stood, letting go of Clementine, who stayed by his side. "I figured you'd be getting some rest after everything that happened today," Lee said. "You deserve it, just like everyone else in our group."
Isaac raised an eyebrow at his choice of words, his smile widening slightly. "Our group?"
Lee nodded, his tone sincere. "Yeah. Trust me. You've earned your place after everything you've done today."
"Thanks. I really appreciate it." Isaac rubbed the back of his head, his smile staying on his face, "I'm not resting now, because I've been thinking about something."
Lee tilted his head slightly. "What's on your mind?"
Isaac hesitated briefly before continuing. "I was thinking about going back to my old hideout. I've got some supplies stashed there—nothing major, but it could help us out. It'd be a shame to let it all go to waste, especially with how tight things are gonna be."
"I see." Lee nodded in understanding. He knew Isaac was right. Some extra supplies would definitely help their group. It was when he started to wonder if he should join Isaac on this quick run to his old hideout or not. Perhaps they would get this done faster if they went together.
[Scene Break, Location: Yhwach, Downstairs, The House]
Downstairs, Yhwach sat in the darkened corner of the room, his tall figure reclined on a rickety wooden chair he had scavenged. One leg crossed over the other, he held a book in his hand. though his attention wasn't on its pages. His senses were finely tuned to every sound, every breath, every heartbeat of those around him.
When he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps, his head tilted slightly. Quietly, he closed his eyes, feigning sleep, but left one eye barely open, its faint glint catching the faintest traces of moonlight. From his vantage point, Yhwach found Lilly crouched near the supply bags.
Her voice broke the silence, a frustrated whisper. "Damn it."
Yhwach placed his book aside with a soft thud and spoke, his voice calm yet piercing through the stillness. "Did you find what you were searching for?"
Lilly froze, her entire body stiffening as though she had been caught red-handed. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her wide eyes locking onto his relaxed yet deliberate posture.
"Jugram," she muttered, sighing heavily.. "I swear, you move like a damn ghost. You trying to give me a heart attack?"
Yhwach let out a faint hum, He leaned forward slightly. "I would imagine one would only feel such fear when their actions are...questionable."
Lilly sighed and glanced around at the others sleeping nearby. "Let's talk somewhere else," she whispered, gesturing toward the kitchen.
Without a word, Yhwach rose gracefully, He followed her into the kitchen, his steps silent against the creaking floorboards. Once there, he opened one of the cabinets, retrieving a half-used candle and setting it on the counter. From his pocket, he produced a lighter—a small object he had claimed from Fred's lifeless body earlier. With a flick of his thumb, a small flame illuminated the space between them.
Yhwach gestured for Lilly to sit, but he remained standing, his imposing figure shadowed by the flickering candlelight.
Lilly raised an eyebrow, watching him as he placed the lit candle between them. "Why do you have a lighter?" she asked, her tone cautious.
Yhwach reached into his pocket once more, this time revealing a small pack of cigarettes. He turned it over in his hand without offering a direct reply.
"I didn't take you for a smoker," Lilly muttered, watching as he placed the pack back into his coat without lighting one.
His tone remained calm but probing as he asked, "What were you searching for?" Though softly spoken, the question carried the weight of an interrogation.
Lilly hesitated, crossing her arms defensively. "Nitroglycerin pills," she admitted after a moment. Her voice grew more frustrated as she continued, "We're running out. Those assholes from Crawford didn't have any—or if they did, maybe Vernon or Carley didn't find them. Or maybe there wasn't enough space to bring it all back."
Yhwach watched her with an intensity that made her shift uncomfortably. He already knew the answer, of course. Observing her struggle was simply... enlightening.
"Your father's condition requires it," Yhwach said, as though stating an irrefutable fact.
"Yeah, no kidding," Lilly snapped, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Sorry. I just... without those pills, he won't survive long, hell being in the same group as Kenny and Lee, He might just keel over from another heart attack the next time someone opens their mouth wrong. And then what? We won't be able to save him. I can't let that happen. I won't. He's all I've got left."
Yhwach tilted his head, his gaze unrelenting. "And in doing so, you risked drawing attention to this group. Is your father's survival worth endangering everyone else's?"
Lilly glared at him, "You don't know what it's like. To watch someone you love—your family—fade away. You'd do anything to keep them alive."
Just as he was about to speak again, Yhwach noticed Lee stepping inside, Lee eyes flicking between Yhwach and Lilly. Lee paused for a moment, unsure of what to say or whether he should even interrupt. But eventually, he broke the silence with a soft sigh.
"Well, this is an interesting combo," Lee muttered, his voice dry as he looked at the two of them, standing in the dim light of the kitchen. "Didn't think I'd find you two here."
Lilly blinked in surprise, her posture relaxing a little as she turned to face him. "Lee? You didn't sleep?" she asked, her voice softening as she noticed the exhaustion in his eyes.
Lee gave a small shake of his head. "I did sleep," he replied, his tone tired. "Just had a bad dream. Anyway, what are you two doing here?"
Lilly let out a sigh, her expression hardening again as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Lee, I'm gonna cut to the chase. I'm planning on going out tomorrow morning. I need to search some buildings for more pills for my dad." Lilly revealed. "We're running out of them, and it really worries me. I don't think he'll be able to handle another stressful situation without them."
Lee's eyes softened as he looked at Lilly, concern flickering across his face. He stepped further into the room, his hand on the doorframe. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "You know how dangerous the streets of this city are right now."
"Yes. I'm sure about this." Lilly assured him, "I need to get more pills for my dad. What if we run out of them and we'll find ourselves in another stressful situation? You were in the meat locker at the St. John dairy and saw what happened there, right? I don't want to go through another situation like this."
"You should take someone with you. At least you will have someone else to watch your back out there." Yhwach stated.
Lilly hesitated, her eyes flicking between Yhwach and Lee, then looking down at the floor for a moment as she considered his words. She let out a sigh, frustration creeping into her voice again. "I'm not so sure about this," she muttered. "I think I'll be faster if I go alone. I can't risk wasting time waiting for someone else."
Lee looked at Lilly with a thoughtful expression on his face, wondering what he should do about her. But what was the right thing to do here? Should he let her go out by herself, or should he try to convince her to let someone accompany her?
[Scene Break Location: Abandoned House, Near the Old Crawford School ]
The door burst open with a crash, the heavy thud echoing through the tense silence. Two teenage boys, Thomas and Harry, stumbled inside, their breaths coming in frantic gasps. Behind them, a woman named Helen shoved the door shut, her face flushed with both effort and barely contained rage. She threw herself against the door, shoving it shut, the guttural snarls of walkers on the other side clawing at their ears.
"Block it!" Nolan barked, his gun already in his hands, eyes darting toward the door. The boys didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled, grabbing chairs, crates, and whatever they could find to barricade the entrance.
"Bloody hell," Thomas gasped as he fought to catch his breath. "We barely made it!"
Roger, standing just a few feet away, immediately raised his pistol, his expression sharp and cold. "You bit?" he demanded, his eyes darting between the newcomers. "And where the hell's Logan? Did he—"
"Dead," Helen cut him off, She dumped two ripped bags onto the floor, their contents clanging loudly as supplies spilled out—cans, bottles, whatever was left.
"That piece of shit Logan let the intruders grab all our meds," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "So I left him to die. We gathered what we could, but the school was overrun. This was suicide!" Helen stated, kicking one of the bags for emphasis.
Frederick, his face pale, stepped forward. "Where the hell is William?"
Helen let out a bitter laugh as she sank into an empty chair, her head leaning back against the wall. "That fucker William bailed," she said, glaring at no one in particular. "Hank, Stan, and the rest of those bastards joined him. They went in the opposite direction. You can thank Oberson's failure for that."
The room erupted in low murmurs and angry mutters, but Helen barely registered it. Her mind had drifted, drawn back to the chaos that had unfolded at the school.
[Flashback - Scene Break Location: Crawford's School – Earlier ]
The group was pinned down near the entrance of Crawford's school. Walkers poured in through broken windows and splintered doors. Helen had her back pressed against a wall, reloading her pistol with trembling hands as Logan cowered in the corner, muttering to himself.
"Get up and help, you coward!" Helen yelled, but Logan didn't move, his wide eyes fixed on the approaching horde.
"Where the hell are you going, William?" Helen demanded as she saw him take a step back, his gaze flicking toward the exit.
William wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, his lips curling into a disdainful sneer. "This? This ain't survivin'. It's dyin' slow, bein' dragged down by fools who can't see the cracks in their own foundation."
Helen's eyes narrowed. "We need you here! Crawford needs you!"
William chuckled, a low, bitter sound. He glanced at Oberson, who was barking frantic orders while firing into the crowd of walkers. "Oberson's a failure," William said coldly. "Always has been. Too blind to see his own hubris was his downfall. Crawford was never built to last—he thought rules and fear could hold back the tide. But fear only lasts as long as people believe in it. And these people? They're done believin'."
She lunged forward, grabbing his arm. "You're just going to abandon us? After everything?"
He yanked his arm free with a force that nearly knocked her off balance. "You think I'm wrong?" he sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Look around, Helen. Crawford's a sinking ship, and I'm not going down with it. If you've got half a brain, you'll do the same."
At that moment, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground echoed through the school. Both turned to see Andrew's severed head rolling across the floor, coming to a stop near Oberson.
William let out a disdainful tsk, shaking his head. "See? That's the kind of mess you get when you follow a man like Oberson. Weak leaders breed weak followers. And weak followers die."
[End Of Flashback]
Helen snapped back to reality as Frederick's voice cut through her thoughts. "So that's it, huh? William just walked away?"
"Walked?" Helen laughed bitterly. "He walked, alright—right into the opposite direction while we bled to death. Said Crawford was done and didn't even look back."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words pressing down on everyone.
Roger, still gripping his pistol, stepped forward. "And you left Logan to die, too. What makes you any better than William?"
Helen stood, her eyes blazing as she got in Roger's face. "Don't you dare compare me to that bastard," she hissed. "Logan was dead weight. He gave up the second things got tough. I didn't. That's the difference."
The arguments grew louder and more heated by the second but suddenly... the room went dead silent as the door to Oberson's room creaked open. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed across the tense silence. Every eye in the room turned to him, watching as he slowly strode toward Oswald, his face expressionless, like a predator closing in on its prey.
Morgan was the first to speak. "What are you—?"
Before Morgan could finish his sentence, Oberson's booted foot slammed into the floor with a harsh thud as he made his way toward Oswald's body. His eyes locked on the sickening wound then shifted to Lucas, who was still cradling Oswald's head.
Lucas looked up, tears streaming down his face, desperation in his eyes. "No... please, not him, not now—"
Oberson's face twisted into a sneer. Without a word, he drew his knife and, in one swift motion, plunged it into Oswald's brain. The sickening sound of flesh parting from bone echoed through the room as Lucas let out an agonized scream, his world-shattering in that instant.
"NO!" Lucas screamed, falling to his knees beside his friend's body. His sobs filled the air, drowning out everything else.
Oberson stood up slowly, wiping the blade on his jacket as if the act had been nothing more than a casual gesture. "Shut up. Shut the fuck up. I'm through with this fucking nonsense." He turned to face the room, his gaze sweeping over each person in the room. "You lot are the most useless group of cowards I've ever had the misfortune to lead. You bicker, you falter, and when push comes to shove, not one of you can make a decision. Well, I'm done waiting. Done listening."
Lucas was frozen in horror, unable to move, his face pale with grief and fear. Oberson reached down and grabbed a fistful of Lucas's hair, yanking him up to his feet. Lucas gasped, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to fight back, to scream, but the terror was paralyzing.
"Hey, hey, Lucas, my friend," Oberson said in mock sympathy, his voice like venom. "Don't cry now. Ozzy's in a better place." His fingers tightened around Lucas's scalp, his breath hot against his ear.
Lucas flinched, trembling. He barely managed to whisper, "What do you want, you selfish—"
Oberson's grip tightened as he leaned in closer, his veins bulging from the intensity of his anger. He placed his arm over Lucas's neck, forcing his head back. "Shush. Shush," he hissed. "Don't you dare talk to me like that boy, I gave you a chance, I gave you all a chance to prove yourselves. I don't want to hear it. You've lost the right to talk. All of you have." His grip on Lucas's neck tightened, and Lucas's breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Everyone stood frozen, the room tense with fear. The argument from earlier died away as the weight of Oberson's words settled on them. They were all aware that they were no longer in control of the situation.
"Now, listen here," Oberson continued his voice low but laced with deadly intent. "We're forming a team. A small team. A team that actually knows how to handle things, because clearly, none of you can. We're going after William and the rest of those traitors. We'll track them down, drag them back, and show them what happens when they turn their backs on us." His gaze swept the room. "If anyone's got a problem with that... well, now's your chance to speak up."
Frederick was the first to speak, his voice shaking but firm. "Oberson, we've lost too many already. If you keep pushing us like this—"
"Shut the hell up, Frederick!" Oberson snapped. "What do you think will happen if we just sit here like a bunch of rabid dogs? Huh? Do you think Crawford's gonna magically come back? You think we'll be safe?" He looked around the room, his eyes narrowing. "I'm sick and fucking tired of the weak. If you're not with me, get the hell out of my way."
Helen stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger. "You didn't have to kill him like that! We could've—"
"Could've what?" Oberson cut her off, his tone dripping with disdain as he turned to face her. "Saved him? He was bitten, Helen. Bitten. Do you want to waste precious time and resources hoping for a miracle? That's why Crawford is falling apart—because people like you think we can afford mercy." His gaze swept the room, daring anyone else to challenge him. "Oswald was dead the second those teeth sank into his skin. I just finished the job."
Lucas remained on the floor, tears streaming down his face as his trembling hands gripped the spot where Oberson had grabbed him. "You... you didn't have to do it like that," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.
Oberson turned to him, crouching down so their faces were level. "Oh, but I did. This isn't some fairy tale, Lucas. This is survival. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you might stop being a liability." He straightened and brushed off his hands as if ridding himself of something filthy. "I didn't kill him for you. I did it for Crawford. For humanity. For the future."
Morgan stepped forward, his voice hard but measured. "You've lost it, Oberson. Killing a man like that... you don't just get to play judge, jury, and executioner."
Oberson's face darkened, his voice low and menacing. "And who the hell is going to stop me? You?" He took a deliberate step toward Morgan, who didn't flinch but stood firm. "Let me remind you, Morgan, that Crawford survived because of me. Not because of debates, not because of feelings, but because I did what needed to be done."
"And that's what you call leadership?" Morgan shot back. "Executing your own people? Turning us into monsters?"
Oberson laughed coldly. "Monsters? You don't even know the meaning of the word. But if that's what it takes to keep Crawford alive, so be it. Better a monster than a corpse."
Bruno also stepped forward, his voice steady but tinged with warning. "Listen Oberson. You still don't get to just kill someone in cold blood and expect us to fall in line."
Oberson's eyes narrowed as he glared at Bruno and Morgan. "You think you're in charge, Bruno? You're not. None of you are. And if you want to keep breathing, you better get your shit together. I'll do what needs to be done—whether you like it or not." He turned his back on Morgan, addressing the rest of the group. "That means finding William and those other cowards who ran and making an example out of them. We find them, we deal with them, and we send a message—nobody leaves Crawford alive."
"An example?" Sylvia asked, her voice trembling. "You mean—"
"Yes," Oberson said coldly. "I mean exactly what you think I mean. We can't afford to let their betrayal go unpunished. If they think they can abandon Crawford and live, they're wrong. Dead wrong."
Cameron stepped forward, his jaw clenched. "And what about the rest of us? You're so focused on revenge, but we've got people here who need help. Supplies are running low, and those walkers—"
Oberson's glare silenced him. "The walkers are a problem because you idiots let them become one. And as for supplies..." He gestured to the bags Helen had brought in. "We've got enough for now. If you want more, earn it."
"What the hell does that mean?" Nolan demanded.
"It means," Oberson said, his voice icy, "that I'm done babysitting. From now on, you do as I say, or you're out. And trust me, you don't want to be out there."
Roger, his gun still in hand, stepped forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're a lunatic. Killing people like this, hunting down your own... you're not saving Crawford, Oberson. You're destroying it."
Oberson's eyes locked onto Roger's, a dangerous glint flashing in them. "And what exactly do you think you're going to do about it, Roger?"
Roger raised his pistol slightly. "You're not leading us anywhere. You're just a psychopath with a god complex."
The crack of the gunshot echoed through the room before anyone could react. Roger collapsed to the floor, blood pooling around him as the group stared in horror.
Helen clutched her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief. Sylvia let out a muffled scream, and Nolan took a shaky step back, his face pale. Theodore let out a choked sob, and Morgan took a step back, his hands curling into fists.
Oberson calmly lowered his gun. "Let that be a lesson," he said. "Anyone and I mean anyone who questions my leadership will end up just like him."
Lucas, still shaken and disoriented, slowly pulled himself to his feet, his body trembling. Oberson's cold actions had shattered something inside him. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was silently curse the man who had killed his best friend. And now, that same man was leading the charge to hunt down the people who had abandoned them.
Lucas and everyone else didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain—none of them were safe.
Not from the walkers.
Not from the world.
And certainly not from Oberson Crawford.
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What does [V] (Oberson Crawford) do?
A) Take the lead personally and organize a hunting party to track down William and the traitors.
B) Form a small team of volunteers to hunt down William while Oberson stays to secure Andrew's Plan.
C) Cancel the mission, opting instead to focus on fortifying Crawford's new base against Lee's group.
D) Leave the decision to the remaining survivors of Crawford, lowering the risk of internal diversion.
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What does [M] (Lee Everett) do about Isaac's Plan?
A) Let him go with someone to gather supplies from his hideout (Type who should go with Isaac if you choose this option )
B) Wish him good luck and let him go alone
C) Tell him to stay
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What should [M] (Yhwach) say about Lilly's Plan? ( Lee will agree with whatever decision Yhwach says about Lilly's Plan )
A) Let her go
B) Let her go with someone (Type who should go with Lilly if you choose this option )
C) Tell her to stay
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Relationships [V] (Oberson Crawford):
Lucas: 1/15
He's shattered by your actions, especially after what you did to Oswald. He fears you, but that fear is mixed with utter hatred.
Micah: 7/15
Micah is one of the few who supports your brutal methods. However, his loyalty is self-serving, and you suspect he would betray you if it benefited him.
Morgan: 5/15
You've lost most of his respect. He sees you as a tyrant and openly opposes your methods, though he hasn't completely severed ties
Helen: 3/15
She despises your lack of empathy and cruelty. Killing Oswald pushed her to the brink of defying you.
Frederick & Jonathan: 7/15
He respects the logic behind your decisions but strongly disagrees with your methods. There's a sliver of understanding, but it's fading.
Sylvia, Valentina & Lucy: 5/15
She fears you more than she respects you. Your actions leave her questioning whether survival under your rule is worth it.
Bruno: 6/15
He doesn't support your brutality but acknowledges your authority begrudgingly. He's cautious, knowing challenging you outright would be dangerous.
Nolan: 2/15
You've shaken him. He's too scared to openly defy you, but he's on the edge of abandoning your leadership.
Theodore: ?/15
Theodore is a broken man after his lover's death, and your leadership is at the heart of his despair. He has no faith left in you and sees your decisions as the end of the group's humanity.
Cameron: 2/15
He resents you for prioritizing vengeance over the survival of the group. He doubts your ability to lead.
Kevin: 10/15
He's asleep, The fuck did you expect?
Roger: 0/15 (Deceased)
He is dead because he openly opposed you. His death has left the rest of the group shaken and resentful.
Oswald: 0/15 (Deceased)
His death is a turning point for the group, pushing many to resent or question your leadership. Those who were close to him and Roger are either fearful of your wrath or have already started resenting you for it.
William: ?/15
You and William are two sides of the same coin, each ruling with an iron fist. While you share similar tendencies in leadership, William's arrogance and his refusal to bow to your authority have pushed you to a breaking point. and as far as you're concerned, when he turned against you, he sealed his fate. You never forget betrayal—he'll get what's coming to him, eventually.
Traitors: 0/15
You've made it clear to everyone around you that betraying you is a mistake that they will regret. You've dealt with betrayal before, and every time, it's always the same outcome—those who oppose will get what they deserve.
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