Two days later
The gates of Alexandria creaked open as Merle led three new arrivals inside—Jesus, flanked by Kal and Eduardo, all wearing neutral expressions but clearly alert. Jesus's sharp eyes immediately scanned the area, taking in the community's repairs and recent activity.
I watched them approach from the steps outside the town hall, arms crossed. A breeze rolled in, carrying the scent of fresh wood and ash from ongoing reconstruction. Jesus gave me a small nod as he reached me.
"Are you ready?" he asked, voice calm but purposeful.
I returned the nod. "Yeah. Let's go."
He looked satisfied and turned slightly to wait.
Merle gave a mock salute. "Good luck out there, Ricky boy. I'll keep the walls upright."
I gave him a small grin. "Hold the fort. And keep an eye on Gregory."
Because two days ago, Daryl and I brought Gregory back from Hilltop—after some persuasion. Now he sat locked up in the Alexandria cell, in the very next cell over from Spencer.
An ironic pairing—two manipulators who'd tried to play a game they didn't have the brains or spine to finish.
I planned to bring both of them with me when we returned from this mission—though for different reasons.
Gregory had information. Spencer… maybe a final chance at redemption.
I signaled toward the gate. Daryl and Graves approached, already geared up, rifles strapped and eyes focused.
We were six total for this trip:
A solid team—balanced between diplomacy and firepower.
It was time to meet Ezekiel.
It took us a few hours of travel, but with Jesus leading the way, we finally reached the edge of the woods—and there it was:
The Kingdom.
Nestled behind a series of reinforced steel gates and high wooden walls, the community stood like a medieval fortress in the heart of the apocalypse. Colorful murals decorated some of the inner buildings, and even from the entrance, you could spot the makeshift gardens, solar panels, and even an old-school bus parked sideways, repurposed as a barricade.
The whole place gave off a strange energy—part hopeful, part theatrical.
Just as we approached the main gate, a few Kingdom guards appeared on the ramparts above us, dressed in makeshift armor—lacrosse pads, bike helmets, and heavy-duty gloves, all spray-painted black.
One of them raised his weapon cautiously, squinting through the afternoon sunlight.
Then he called out, voice sharp:
"Jesus? What are you doing here? And who the hell are these people with you?"
I stepped slightly forward, but Jesus raised his hand to keep things calm. He took a step ahead and called back with a diplomatic smile:
"We're here for an alliance. These people are from Alexandria. We need to speak to your king."
The guards whispered among themselves for a second.
And that's when I recognized him.
One of the men up top—Richard.
The man who, in the series, tried to frame Carol. A reckless but passionate survivor. One of the most adaptable and determined members of the Kingdom.
I remember liking him, despite his mistakes. He wanted peace—but was willing to dirty his hands for it.
He looked older than I remembered, more weathered. But those eyes were the same—constantly calculating.
Richard stared at me for a moment, then down at Jesus again.
"…You serious about this?" he asked.
Jesus nodded. "Dead serious."
Richard paused for a breath, then gave a sharp whistle. The gates slowly began to open, creaking on heavy hinges.
"Alright," he said. "You can come in. But your weapons stay holstered. King Ezekiel will want to see you himself."
I gave a nod and signaled to the rest of the group to stay sharp.
Once inside the Kingdom's walls, Richard turned to us and said firmly,"Wait here. I'll inform the King of your arrival."
We nodded, watching him disappear past the inner gates. The courtyard around us was calm, lively in a strange way—children running, people tending to crops, others practicing sword drills or sharpening weapons.
It felt different from Alexandria or Hilltop—almost theatrical, but functional.
I took a few slow steps forward, observing the murals on the walls, the organized layout, and the energy of the people. Turning to Jesus, I asked,
"How'd you even find this place?"
Jesus shrugged slightly, arms crossed.
"Was out scavenging a few months ago. Ran into a patrol. They brought me to Ezekiel. The man's strange—but he's good. Smart. And moral." He smirked.
"Though you probably already figured that out."
I had. Ezekiel, with his Shakespearean tone and theatrical flair, still stood as one of the most disciplined leaders I knew from the series. That performance had a purpose.
A few minutes later, Richard returned, motioning us forward."The King will see you now."
We'd already handed over our weapons at the gate—standard procedure, and fair.
The wooden doors to the inner chamber creaked open as we entered the heart of the Kingdom. Torches lined the hall, adding a medieval ambiance to the stone walls and banners.
And there he was—Ezekiel, seated high on his throne.At his right side stood Jerry, grinning, arms crossed with his usual oversized battle-axe on his back.On Ezekiel's left, lounging calmly, was the massive presence of Shiva, the tiger, golden eyes tracking us with eerie calm.
Standing just behind the throne were two familiar faces—Diane, bow slung over her shoulder, and Alvaro, ever watchful.
We stopped several feet away, and Ezekiel rose with dramatic grace.
"Welcome, travelers," he said with a booming voice. "Jesus, your presence is always welcome… but I see you bring unfamiliar companions."
Jesus bowed lightly."Your Majesty. These are people of purpose. Allies. From Right Arm. This is Rick Grimes, their leader."
Ezekiel turned to me, eyes narrowing slightly in thought.
I took a step forward and nodded respectfully.
"We've come seeking an alliance. The world's changing. Fast. And not for the better. There are threats out there—raiders, monsters, even organized militias. Alone, our communities might not survive. But together…" I glanced around at those watching.
"Together, we stand a real chance."
Ezekiel tilted his head thoughtfully. "You speak of unity. A noble cause. But why now? Why us?"
Jesus stepped in again. "Because it's already happening. Hilltop is in. I've taken up leadership there after Gregory was removed. We've begun working with Alexandria. And there's another group—the Right Arm."
Daryl, standing beside me, muttered, "Ain't no time to wait. People are dying out there."
Graves, ever direct, added, "You've got soldiers. You've got walls. But unless we start working together, someone out there is going to come and tear it all down."
Ezekiel paced slowly down the steps, silent for a moment.
"I know of Hilltop. But not this... Alexandria. Nor your Right Arm. What makes you different from those who only seek to take?"
I met his gaze directly.
"Because we've bled for our people. Because we didn't just survive—we built."
There was a long pause.
Then Ezekiel gave a slow, regal nod.
"Then you have my ear, Rick Grimes. And—" he turned to the room, voice lifting, "you have the Kingdom's hand in friendship."
Jerry clapped, whispering loudly, "Yesss. I knew it."
Richard nodded with quiet approval. Diane smiled faintly. Even Shiva let out a low, rumbling growl—approval, maybe?
We spent the next hour touring the Kingdom—the gardens, the training yards, their storage and armory. Ezekiel introduced us to several more of his trusted soldiers. People respected him, truly. And not because he ruled with fear—but because he carried the weight of leadership with dignity.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, I turned to Ezekiel one last time.
"I'll be heading back to my camp soon—it's based further south, in Georgia. Might take a few days to reach it."
Ezekiel raised a brow. "You're from Georgia?"
"Yes. But I'd like you to visit the other communities here in Virginia first—see for yourself."
He gave a gracious nod. "I shall. Unity must be built with trust, and trust comes from walking the same soil."
We shook hands—his grip firm, theatrical as always, but sincere.
Alliance secured.
The first steps toward something bigger had just been taken.