In a silent, dark room.
Jason suddenly opened his eyes. He sat up abruptly in bed, lightly covering his chest with his broad palms, gasping continuously as he sat there, confused, staring into the darkness of the room, unable to recover from the sudden shock.
After a while, he turned his head and looked at the dim light outside the window. He touched his face unconsciously, recalling the vivid scene from his dream moments ago. For some reason, it gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.
But as he tried to grasp it, the dream became blurry again, unreal. When Jason tried to recall it in detail, he found he couldn't remember anything at all.
Sighing helplessly, Jason let it go for now. He pulled off the blanket, got out of bed, and walked straight to the bathroom. He reached for a bucket of water, cupped it in both hands, and splashed his face. The cold water instantly sobered him up.
After wiping the remaining drops from his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. Reflected back was a 25-year-old man with messy hair and an expression devoid of much emotion.
Over time, the lives he had taken—though they weighed lightly on him—had caused subtle, yet noticeable changes. Jason lowered his gaze, looking into the water, seeing a reflection that felt somehow different.
He took off his sweat-soaked white shirt, revealing his muscular build. He grabbed a towel and began drying his body. Several scars covered his skin, many from the abuse of his late father—reminders of where he came from and what he stood for.
Once he finished cleaning up, he left the bathroom, hung his dirty clothes on a chair, then took out a set of black military gear from the closet—his usual outfit—and began to change. He walked over to the table where his weapons and bulletproof vest were neatly arranged and silently began gearing up.
He noticed a note had been slipped under the door. Bending down, he picked it up—it must have been important; very few dared disturb him unless it was serious. He opened the letter and read its contents:
[Notice: General Jason, as per your orders, Mrs. Grimes is scheduled to give birth today. The doctors are already prepared for the operation when the time comes.]
Seeing it was still early, Jason rubbed his eyes and sat on the bed to clear his mind. According to the doctors, Lori wouldn't be able to deliver naturally; a C-section would be necessary.
When he first learned of the risks, many doctors had said Lori was fortunate the prison had the equipment needed for such surgery—otherwise, she would likely have died.
By now, many days had passed since the virus outbreak swept the world, and trust among people had collapsed. Strict security measures were now in place, and anyone arriving at the S.C.T. community bases had to follow the rules.
This all started after Jason was ambushed and wounded by a group who had originally intended to kill him. Though he had wanted to spare them while teaching them a lesson, things didn't go as planned. From that day forward, he decided it was time to be tougher.
In the days after Jason's arrival at the base—located at Georgia Tech University—several strategic posts were set up around the area, where soldiers stood watch to prevent walker hordes from interfering with the construction of defensive walls.
Meanwhile, Sam Valdez in Atlanta had been training new soldiers on the battlefield, eliminating not only walkers but also clearing entire buildings in the process.
As a result, Jason's bases had become safer and more prepared for future operations—ensuring many things at once, which was a good sign.
...
Later, the doctors had been preparing in the infirmary since early morning. Today was a major event—the first new life in the central base was about to be born!
At 10 a.m., Lori was taken into the operating room, and the doctors stood ready.
Lori tightly held Rick's hand, reassuring him that everything would be fine.
Rick, trying to stay calm, spoke about other things to distract and soothe his wife.
Once the operating room preparations were complete, everyone was asked to leave—including Jason.
Outside the OR, Rick, Carl, and Jason waited.
Rick gently stroked Carl's hair, looking at his young face while thinking about the imminent birth of his second child. He couldn't help but feel the pressure doubling. Would he be able to protect his wife and children in this apocalypse?
As Rick was lost in thought, Carl tugged at his father's arm and asked, "Dad, did you ever tell Mom that you still hadn't named the baby?"
Rick looked at Carl affectionately, placed a hand back on his head, and softly replied, "Of course, son! Your mom and I hoped you could give your little sibling a good name."
Carl nodded with excitement. "I will! I already have a great name ready, but I'll only say it once the baby is born!"
Rick, who had been a little nervous, chuckled at his son's serious expression. He turned to face the operating room door and held Carl's hand.
"Everything will be fine, Rick. It's not a difficult surgery after all," Jason said after a moment.
"Jason's right."
Rick heard a woman's voice behind him. Turning, he saw Michonne, followed closely by Sasha and Tyreese.
Rick smiled warmly, nodded, and greeted them. He was about to speak when the people around him grew excited. He quickly turned back toward the OR and saw the door finally open.
There, Lori lay on a bed. Her face was pale but healthy. In her arms, she cradled a newborn wrapped in layers of cotton fabric.
Several women gathered around, smiling as they gazed at the baby. It was the first child any of them had seen since the end of the world. It wasn't just a new life—it symbolized a new beginning.
Lori looked at Rick with a radiant smile. Rick stepped forward and tightly held her hand. He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and then Lori whispered in his ear:
"It's a girl."
After speaking, she held up the baby and handed her to Rick. He took his daughter into his trembling hands. Her little red face, her sparse hair, her tiny eyes shut tightly—it all filled him with awe.
In that moment, Rick forgot everything else. All that remained in his world was his daughter. Every little movement she made was magnified in his eyes, and he swore he'd protect her with everything he had.
The door opened again, and Jason stepped inside, looking around at the crowded room. "Alright, I know babies are adorable, but the family needs to rest."
Someone in the crowd shouted teasingly, "Jason, when are you getting a girlfriend to have babies with?"
"Heh... not interested," Jason replied with an ironic smile. "Let's go, time to let Lori rest."
As everyone filed out, Jason approached Rick and said, "Congratulations, Rick. You have a beautiful daughter. We should celebrate tonight—everyone in the base is thrilled."
That night, the newborn baby became the center of attention!
Even Daryl, who rarely got involved in such moments, came over to see his friend's child along with Rick's closest companions. Watching the baby squirm and kick in someone's arms, Daryl couldn't help but ask:
"What's the baby's name?"
"Carl's going to name his sister. He said he's still thinking about it but hasn't said anything yet," Rick replied, ruffling Carl's hair. Carl frowned and tugged at his father's shirt, signaling that they should step outside to talk.
As father and son exited the room, Daryl allowed himself a rare smile. He turned to the baby in his arms and said, "Well, your dad and brother are outside. Maybe I can name you? How about... Pragis?"
Beth, standing behind Daryl, burst out laughing at the name.
Lori, lying in bed, shook her head in disbelief and said, "That's not a good name…"
Daryl glanced around and noticed everyone had strange looks on their faces. He looked confused. "What? Doesn't Pragis sound good for a girl? I think it's pretty decent!"
Just as he finished speaking, Rick's voice rang out behind him. At some point, he and Carl had come back into the room.
"Her name is Judith. Judith Grimes!"