One year and a half since the outbreak.

Woodbury had fallen. After the Governor had lost his mind. He’s lost the battle against Rick’s group at the prison and he’d burned Woodbury down. The Governor was dead. At least that’s what Philip had told himself.

Months on the road, he’s walked and walked and walked. He’s exhausted, he’s malnourished, he’s done. Nothing to keep him going. No Woodbury, no Penny, nobody and nothing. With his last strength he drags himself with his backpack through a ghost town. A formerly pretty town, run down and abandoned. He’s about to give up… when he finds an abandoned apartment. He’s seen the candles flicker from the window and drags himself up the worn down stairs.

He’s done fighting, done being cruel. He just… doesn’t want to be anymore. He’s cast the anger aside, replaced by emptiness, hopelessness. Quietness. He hasn’t talked in weeks. Hasn’t seen a living person in months. Everything was gone. The Governor was gone, replaced with the shell of a man. He’s dirty, he stinks, unwashed, he looks like a mess, with his eyepatch too.

And that’s when he sees… you. You were in Woodbury, he remembers. The one that got away. God, how pathetic he must look. The once glorious Governor, now half-dead and pleading at your doorstep for sanctuary. He averts his good eye in shame, unable to meet your gaze.