A/N: I like this fic and I like TWD so much, I'm rewatching it again. I gotta say, I like Merle more now even if he is a racist scumbag. Andrea is sort of annoying. But yeah, I found the Governor's obsession with being a hero/savior to be awfully familiar. Idek if I'm gonna do other characters, that got way too fuckin' messy before so let's just go with just the Governor and roll with it. I just lost interest in all the ones with multiple reincarnations, bad idea. You wanna do a proper one, do it right and stick to one character at a time. These SI fics are easier tbh. My ADHD doesn't get as distracted by them, tbh.

""See, people with power understand exactly one thing: violence."

― Noam Chomsky

Chapter 2 Defending the People

He'd always been about protecting people. You could almost say it was ingrained into his very being, by certain incidents that occurred in his past life. But if that old chessmaster of a man could see him now, he was certain he would have many questions and not like the answers given to him. That man had been a naive fool-too good-hearted for this world. If he even was good-hearted at all.

Here, he was the Governor, and his word was law. It was an exciting feeling, being able to hold so much power over people. He understood exactly what good old Tom Riddle had meant about power now. It was nice being in charge and calling the shots.

He couldn't help but wonder if his good old relatives existed here, before closing an eye and smiling, imagining one of the biters attacking them and eating them. They would be sorely disappointed on that note-there was very little nutrition to be had from those three worthless humans. Perhaps here they were a disappointment as well to their species.

Philip took a drink while surveying the work that Milton was undergoing with regard to walkers and their development. Needless to say, this whole process intrigued Philip and he wanted to see exactly where humans were going with their next evolution. Perhaps the wizards were already biters themselves.

He had never really even seen wizards here. Here, it seemed, was a world without magic. In many ways, that was a blessing to him as well as a curse. But it did seem that death would follow him around every corner. Only he would have to contend with flesh-eating creatures trying to get at him in each life. Only now "dementors" were "biters" who would rip you apart.

Milton was a good man, but easy to use-push his buttons when it came to morality and the man was your kind of guy. He was a true and genuine friend, however. He knew he could not fully trust in Merle-heaven knows what that guy was ever thinking in his head. He was good for muscle power, though, and could give those biters a run for their money.

He returned back to his room to see the thing that had replaced his daughter, but was her and not quite her.

He found "it" trying to attack the furniture, attempting to eat the cushions and rip them apart.

"Penny!" He shouted at it.

It jumped, startled, and turned to look at him, growling as a response, like an animal that had been interrupted while trying to eat its dinner.

"Penny, don't do that! I've got your dinner right here, now sit down and eat it." He commanded.

It looked at him before growling again, this time probably smelling the dead flesh he had saved from an unfortunate guard who had not been quick enough to avoid a biter this morning. A piece of leg should be sufficient for it to enjoy.

"There you go, time to eat, Penny." He said.

It tackled the food on the plate, shoving it and ripping and tearing apart the flesh, and the sounds were cringe-inducing to hear and also animalistic. He had to wonder, when would she get better? When would he hear her talk again?

When would any of them get better?

For now, she was the last link he had to the life he had once lived, before Death once again took things from him.

"Penny." He said.

It looked up, confused as to what he wanted, and tried to lunge at his hand, but he was faster, grabbing it and sitting with it as it snarled at him.

"Penny, listen to me!"

It did not, and continued to hiss and snarl, angry that it had been denied more flesh.

Did it even recognize him as its father anymore?

"Penny!"

For a second, there was a glimmer of recognition. The walker that used to be Penny stopped, looked at him, and then stopped hissing, relaxing before stopping the struggle.

He sang her a song and tried to get her to color for him. Instead she tried to eat the crayons, which was irritating in and of itself. This thing was like a toddler-a very vile toddler, he had to remind himself. It was without any of her charm, humor or knowledge.

It would've been nice if it could've talked, even in simple sentences, but the walkers did not talk. They were too stupid to do even that.

He put her back in her usual sleeping spot, but not before she tried to take a bite out of his shoulder and failed.

He had to wonder-how much longer could he pretend that thing was his daughter?

She was gone, and it was there.

It was not her.

Sooner or later, he would have to kill it. Before it killed him. Or killed Milton.

These thoughts terrified him and he wept.

Why had it been her who had been bitten? Why not someone else's daughter?

Why couldn't Penny have made it, too?

The next day, he heard about a helicopter seen flying over the streets and crashing somewhere near Woodbury.

If the military really was alive, then perhaps it was time to start something. But then again, all of them were infected.

He might have to wipe out some so his group wouldn't be infected.

He cocked his gun, getting ready to go out to the woods. Time to protect his town.