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**Chapter 2: The End of Winter**
The White Walkers halted, their eerie blue eyes fixed on the golden portals forming above Jon. The air hummed with energy as the sleek, deadly shapes of M270 MLRS rockets slid into position. Each launcher carried twelve 227mm cluster munitions—designed to blanket entire grids in fire and shrapnel.
Jon smirked. "Fire."
The sky ignited.
A thunderous roar split the frozen air as hundreds of rockets streaked forward, their contrails painting the heavens white. The first volley struck the mass of wights, detonating in a storm of explosions that turned the undead into blackened scraps. The second wave arced higher, raining down on the White Walkers themselves. The Walkers raised their arms, summoning walls of ice, but modern war cared little for magic. Thermobaric warheads detonated, sucking the oxygen from the air before erupting in fireballs hot enough to melt steel. Walkers screamed as their frozen bodies shattered under the concussive force.
But Jon wasn't done.
He summoned **the big ones.**
A single, massive portal opened high above him. From it emerged the blunt, ominous shape of a **B83 thermonuclear bomb—1.2 megatons of annihilation.**
The remaining Walkers looked up. For the first time, something like fear flickered in their ancient eyes.
Jon didn't hesitate. "Goodbye."
The bomb fell.
He turned and ran, Captain America's speed carrying him miles away in seconds before the detonation hit.
A flash. Brighter than the sun.
Then—**silence.**
For a single, impossible moment, the world held its breath.
Then the shockwave came.
The ground trembled. The very air turned to fire. A mushroom cloud, towering and terrible, rose into the sky, its stem a swirling inferno of superheated plasma. The blast radius vaporized everything—wights, Walkers, ice, stone. The Wall, miles away, cracked under the force, great chunks of ancient ice collapsing.
Jon watched from a safe distance, his face lit by the hellish glow. **Winter had just ended.**
---
### **Chapter 3: The Conquest Begins**
With the White Walkers gone, Jon turned his gaze south. Westeros was a land of wolves and lions, of schemers and butchers. He would burn them all.
#### **The Ironborn – First to Fall**
He started with the Iron Islands. The reavers, the rapists, the ones who worshipped a drowned god of plunder. He didn't bother with diplomacy.
He stood on the shores of Pyke, staring up at the castle perched on its jagged rocks. The Ironborn jeered from above, thinking him just another fool.
Jon raised a hand.
A thousand golden portals opened. From them, the barrels of **M134 Miniguns** emerged.
"Rot in hell," he said.
The guns spun up.
The sound was deafening. Six thousand rounds per minute, per gun. The castle walls **disintegrated.** Stones turned to dust. Men were ripped apart before they could scream. The towers of Pyke collapsed into the sea.
Jon walked through the ruins, executing any survivors. **No mercy for reavers.**
#### **The Dothraki – Burned from the Earth**
Next, he crossed the Narrow Sea. The Dothraki Sea was vast, but Jon didn't need an army. He needed **one bomb.**
He found a *khalasar* of 20,000 riders, their screams filling the air as they charged him.
Jon smiled.
He summoned **the Fat Man.**
The **Mark III atomic bomb—21 kilotons.**
He dropped it in the center of the horde.
The explosion turned sand to glass. The Dothraki, their horses, their culture—**gone in an instant.**
#### **The Slave Cities – Ashes and Freedom**
Meereen, Yunkai, Astapor. The slavers had ruled for centuries. Jon gave them **ten minutes.**
He stood before the Great Pyramid of Meereen and unleashed **a fuel-air bomb.** The blast flattened the structure, incinerating every master inside. The slaves stared in shock as their chains melted.
Jon left them with weapons, food, and a simple command: **"Never kneel again."**
#### **The Westerosi Lords – A Message Delivered in Fire**
The Boltons were next. He burned the Dreadfort to the ground with **white phosphorus.**
The Freys? He lined them up and used a **belt-fed M249** to turn them into red mist.
The Mountain? Jon ripped his arms off and fed him to starving dogs.
Tywin Lannister died in his privy—this time, with a **frag grenade** in his lap.
---
### **Chapter 4: A New World Order**
Within a year, the world was his.
No more Dothraki. No more slavers. No more Ironborn. No more Freys, Boltons, or Lannisters.
The surviving lords bent the knee—not out of fear, but because Jon offered something new: **order.** No more petty wars. No more rape, no more pillaging. He ruled with an iron fist, but he ruled **fairly.**
The smallfolk cheered. The broken men found purpose. The Night's Watch disbanded—there was no need for a Wall anymore.
Daenerys Targaryen arrived to find a **unified Westeros** under a king who had already done what she dreamed of—**breaking the wheel.**
She challenged him.
Jon gave her one chance to stand down.
She refused.
**Drogon died first—a Stinger missile through the eye.**
The Unsullied charged.
**A-10 Warthogs strafed them into oblivion.**
Daenerys, alone, faced him.
Jon didn't gloat. He didn't monologue.
He simply raised a **Desert Eagle** and put a bullet between her eyes.
---
### **Epilogue: The King of Steel and Fire**
Years later, Westeros prospered. Factories rose. Guns replaced swords. The people lived without fear.
Jon sat on the Iron Throne, not as a conqueror, but as **the man who ended the game.**
And when the next fool tried to rebel?
**He had a hydrogen bomb with their name on it.**
**The End.**