Chapter 2: Watching the Walls
[Winterfell Stables - Dawn, Day 2]
The sharp, biting stench of manure and damp straw filled your lungs as you mucked stalls. The work was a dull, aching throb in your arms and back, a harsh reminder of your new reality. You had to endure this. It was a small price to pay for the power to come. From the stables, you watched a small, agile figure scale the side of a tower—Bran Stark, a boy who would soon be a paraplegic, a victim of a great secret. The sight fueled your determination. You had to save him.
In your small quarters, the familiar holographic text shimmered into existence.
[NORMAL SIMULATION AVAILABLE.]
You mentally selected the option, your mind already formulating a plan. You would use the simulation to scout the terrain, to distract Jaime Lannister, to create a diversion that would allow you to save the boy. A grizzled guard with a scarred cheek, a man you had seen before, snapped at you, his voice a low growl. He was a symbol of the cruel, rigid hierarchy you were now a part of.
"Work faster, lowborn!" he snarled, spittle flying from his lips.
"Horses don't bow to your schedule, ser," you retorted, your voice calm and even. You made a mental note to loosen his saddle later, a small, petty act of revenge that would be immensely satisfying. His arrogance was a weak point, and you would exploit it.
"Bran's a magnet for trouble. Jaime's my mark. The system's my way in, my way to change the future. I'll use this power to become a king in this land of shadows and fire. They'll see a stablehand, a nobody, but I'll be the one pulling the strings."
[Stark Hall - Morning, Day 2]
The morning meal in the great hall was a bustling, chaotic affair. Ned Stark, his face grim and weary, a man burdened by duty, spoke to a group of his men. You passed by, feigning loyalty, your eyes downcast as you carried a tray of food. Ned, a man whose honor was his greatest weakness, looked at you, a flicker of something close to approval in his weary eyes. You knew his fate, and you knew that his honor would be his undoing. But his trust was a valuable tool.
"You're dependable, Adam," he said, his voice surprisingly warm.
"Just keeping the wheels turning, milord," you replied, a fake smile plastered on your face. You knew you had to earn his trust. He was your ticket to King's Landing, to the heart of the spiderweb of politics and deceit. He was your unwitting pawn.
The scarred guard from earlier mocked you again, a vicious grin on his face. He was an embodiment of the old world, the one you were going to burn to the ground. You waited for the right moment, and then, with a subtle flick of your wrist, you loosened his saddle, just enough to cause a mild inconvenience, just enough to make him stumble on his patrol, a small, unnoticed moment of justice. The sight of him flailing, cursing, was a balm to your soul.
"Ned's honor is my cover. Jaime's the real threat. I'll use the system to get to him, and then I'll use him to gain what I need. This is a game of chess, and every piece, no matter how small, has a part to play. I'm just getting started."
[Winterfell Walls - Evening, Day 2]
The stone of the Winterfell walls was cold under your feet as you scouted Bran's climbing routes. The wind whistled in your ears, a mournful sound that carried the distant hum of the castle. You saw him again: Jaime Lannister, a golden-haired predator, lingering near the tower. His green eyes scanned the walls, his every movement a predatory grace. You knew he was waiting, just as you were. You had to act before it was too late.
You returned to your quarters, the air thick with tension. You sharpened a small dagger, the scrape of steel on stone a rhythmic, hypnotic sound. The system screen glowed, a final confirmation of your impending action.
[SIMULATION READY]
"Jaime's too smug for his own good. This system's my ace. Bran's fall sparks everything. And I'm going to be the one to stop it. I'll get the power I need to survive this world, and then I'll find my own destiny. The game is on, and I'm playing to win."