Hearing Dale’s careful question, Magnus Vane kept his expression calm even though he was smiling inwardly.
He had been waiting for someone to ask what came next, because the answer had been sitting in his mind for days.
Hershel’s farm was comfortable enough for now, but Magnus already knew where he wanted this group to build something permanent.
A place that, in the original story, had given Rick’s people one of their strongest chances at rebuilding a real life.
The prison.
Magnus remembered what that place could become once it was cleared and secured.
High fences, cell blocks, open yards, towers, storage areas, and enough space to house far more people than their current group could ever need.
In the original timeline, the prison had eventually been destroyed after the conflict with the Governor and Woodbury, but Magnus had no intention of letting events unfold the same way.
With the 7 Days to Die System, he could strengthen its defenses far beyond what Rick’s group had originally managed.
He could already imagine it: Rick, Shane, Daryl, Merle, and the others clearing the dead while Magnus used system construction mechanics to reinforce weak points.
Given enough time and resources, the prison could become something far closer to an actual fortress than a temporary survivor camp.
They could grow food inside, organize defenses, stockpile supplies, and stop constantly running from one emergency to another.
Magnus wanted to turn that place into the strongest survivor settlement they could realistically build.
None of those thoughts appeared on his face.
“I’ve got a rough idea,” Magnus said calmly, looking around the campfire.
“But it isn’t something I can decide by myself.
If we’re going to do it, everyone here has to be willing to work toward the same goal.” That immediately caught everyone’s attention.
Even Hershel’s family leaned closer.
The conversation around the fire died until only the crackling of burning wood remained.
Magnus let the silence settle before speaking again.
“Civilization is falling apart.
Most of the things people spent their whole lives building—jobs, laws, money, property, social rules—don’t mean much when there’s nobody left to enforce them.” He glanced toward the darkness beyond the farm.
“Trust is getting harder to find, walkers kill anyone they catch, and some living people are becoming just as dangerous.”
Nobody interrupted.
“So maybe we need to stop thinking about survival the way we did before the outbreak,” Magnus continued.
“Instead of looking for another house, campground, or open piece of land, we should find something that was designed from the beginning to keep dangerous people contained.” A few expressions around the fire began to change.
Magnus raised one hand and gestured toward the open fields surrounding Hershel’s property.
“Would you rather sleep here with nothing but open ground between you and whatever comes out of those woods, or behind heavy fences where walkers can’t simply wander into your sleeping area?” He looked from Rick to Lori, then toward the children.
“I know which one I’d choose.”
Lori instinctively rested a hand against her abdomen.
“A place with walls like that would be safer, sure, but where are we supposed to find one?” The thought clearly appealed to her, especially with Carl beside her and another child potentially on the way.
Safety had stopped being a luxury and become the only thing she truly wanted.
Dale’s eyes brightened for a moment before practical concerns pulled him back down.
“Could we build something like that around the farm?” He looked toward the small number of people gathered around the fire and shook his head.
“Even before all this, putting up serious walls and defenses would’ve taken crews, machines, materials, and months.
We don’t have any of that.”
Several others looked disappointed.
Dale was right.
Turning Hershel’s open farm into a fortress from scratch would require more manpower and equipment than they could reasonably gather anytime soon.
Even with Magnus’s system, doing it without attracting attention or exposing his abilities would be difficult.
The point, however, was that Magnus wasn’t suggesting they build the structure.
“What if it’s already built?”
Heads lifted again.
Magnus leaned forward slightly.
“High fencing designed to keep people from getting through.
Concrete buildings strong enough to house hundreds.
Open ground inside that could be used for crops, places for storage, secure rooms, maybe even supplies that were left behind when everything fell apart.” He let each part sink in instead of immediately naming the location.
Andrea tightened her hand around Amy’s.
The sisters exchanged a look, and Magnus could see the same hope in both of their faces.
Shane glanced unconsciously toward Lori and Carl, his jaw tightening while his hands clasped together.
Even Hershel looked back toward the farmhouse that had been his home for most of his life.
The farm held decades of memories for Hershel, but memories wouldn’t stop a herd.
If a truly safer place existed, he couldn’t dismiss it simply because leaving would hurt.
All Hershel really wanted was for Maggie, Beth, and the people under his care to remain alive.
T-Dog finally lost patience.
“Man, you gonna keep describing this place all night, or are you gonna tell us where it is?” His frustration earned a few faint smiles around the fire.
Magnus had deliberately stretched the explanation long enough that everyone had already begun imagining the kind of refuge he was describing.
Rick said nothing.
He sat with his fingers interlocked in front of him, leaning forward without seeming to notice it.
Shane was doing almost the same thing, and Magnus could tell both former sheriff’s deputies were already circling the answer.
A place designed to hold dangerous people behind fences wasn’t exactly difficult to guess once all the pieces were laid out.
Magnus stopped smiling.
He looked around the fire.
Then he gave them the answer.
“A prison.”
Silence followed.
Then several expressions changed at once.
“A prison?” Glenn repeated.
Magnus nodded.
The more everyone thought about it, the more obvious the advantages became.
A correctional facility already had perimeter fencing, locked sections, concrete construction, controlled entrances, and infrastructure designed to support a large number of people.
Instead of building a fortress from nothing, they would only need to take control of one that already existed.
“The world fell apart everywhere,” Magnus continued.
“A prison won’t be magically untouched.
Guards, inmates, staff—whoever was trapped inside when things went bad could’ve turned.” He looked toward Rick and Shane.
“But if we clear the walkers and secure the buildings, the same place that once kept prisoners from getting out can keep the dead from getting in.”
That possibility immediately changed the mood.
Magnus could see people beginning to picture it.
Children sleeping without somebody sitting beside them with a loaded gun.
Older people living without constantly watching the tree line.
A place where food could be stored instead of carried from one temporary camp to another.
A place where the group could grow instead of simply survive.
“There’d be room for the kids to be kids again,” Magnus said, his voice quieter now.
“People could have jobs besides watching for walkers every second of the day.
We could farm, organize supplies, repair equipment, set watches, and actually build something instead of packing up every time the dead get too close.” He paused before adding, “We’d still have to fight, but we wouldn’t have to live like we’re running every hour.”
Nobody around the fire was eating anymore.
Magnus had their full attention.
“If we stick together, clear it properly, and defend it properly, we can make a real home out of it.” His gaze moved across Rick’s group, the Dixons, Andrea and Amy, then finally Hershel’s family.
“Not just somewhere we survive tonight.
Somewhere we can still be alive next year.”
Magnus stopped speaking.
For several seconds, no one filled the silence.
The idea had already taken hold.
Hershel looked across his farm, seeing the fields and house that had been part of his life for decades, yet even he couldn’t deny the appeal of something more secure.
Andrea and Amy remained hand in hand, while Lori kept Carl close against her.
Dale’s earlier discouragement had vanished completely.
Shane finally looked toward Rick.
Rick met his eyes.
A slight nod passed between them.
The idea was dangerous, but it was possible.
More importantly, it gave them something they hadn’t possessed since leaving the quarry.
A destination.
Compared with Hershel’s open fields, a prison surrounded by heavy fencing sounded almost impossible for ordinary walkers to breach without a massive herd pushing against it.
If they cleared the interior and maintained the perimeter, the group could finally stop living with the fear that a few wandering corpses might stumble into camp while everyone slept.
It was the closest thing to a fortress any of them could reasonably hope to find.
The change around the fire was subtle but unmistakable.
Only a week earlier, most of Rick’s people had been drifting from one disaster to the next with no real idea where they belonged.
Now, for the first time in days, exhaustion wasn’t the only thing visible on their faces.
The prison was still only an idea somewhere beyond the farm.
But it was enough.
Something that had been fading inside them was beginning to return.
Hope.
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