Chapter 8: Shadows of Stealth, Part 3
[Winterfell Tower - Dawn, Simulation]
[The system's message is a final, satisfying pronouncement: [SIMULATION ONGOING: WARN BRAN STARK]. You pull Bran to a lower ledge, his eyes wide with fear, a small, scared animal. He is safe now, safe from the lion. Jaime breaks through, his sword gleaming, his face a mask of furious rage. He sees you, a mere stablehand, a pest, a nuisance. He slashes your back, the agony flaring like a fire, a searing pain that makes you cry out. But you have succeeded. You shove Bran toward safety, toward the ground, toward the life he was meant to live. Jaime pins you against the stone, his cold eyes filled with a murderous rage. His blade plunges into your chest, the pain a final, blinding burst of white light. Blood pools on the cold stone, and your vision fades to black. The system's final message appears: [SIMULATION PARTIAL SUCCESS. HOST DEATH. REWARDS: SWORDSMANSHIP (NOVICE, LEVEL 2), +1 AGILITY]. You snap back to your quarters, unharmed, but panting, the phantom pain in your chest a brutal memory.]
The world felt real again. The scent of hay, the chill of the stone, the soft, rhythmic creak of the stable doors. You were alive. You had died, but you had survived. You had lost the battle, but you had won the war. You had saved Bran, and you had gained a skill, a tangible piece of power that would help you in the next fight.
"Died for a kid's fall. But I didn't die for nothing. I got Bran to a lower ledge. I got a skill level up. The system's a harsh judge, but it's a fair one. This is how I get strong. This is how I become a god. I die, and I get stronger. I die, and I win. I'll keep dying until I can't die anymore. Then I'll be truly invincible."
[Stark Hall - Morning, Day 4]
You report to Ned Stark, his grey beard framing a relieved smile. His trust in you has grown. You are a vigilant stablehand, a man who keeps the kids safe. A burly guard with a patchy beard, a man you had seen before, insults your cloak, his laugh a coarse, guttural sound. You smile, a thin, knowing smile. He doesn't know who you are. He doesn't know what you can do.
"You're vigilant, Adam," Ned says, his voice warm with genuine appreciation.
"Just keeping kids safe, milord," you reply, your voice a calm, reassuring sound. He has no idea. He has no idea what you do in the dark. He thinks you're a hero. You're not. You're a survivor.
"Ned's my pawn. Bran's still at risk. But the risk is manageable now. I've secured a foothold in this world. Now, I have to find a new skill, a new power. The purple simulation. That's the key. That's where the real power lies."
[Winterfell Stables - Evening, Day 4]
You slip away, your movements a fluid, silent thing thanks to your new Agility. You tangle the guard's reins, watching him struggle with a horse, his cursing a loud, angry sound that echoes in the night. He is a fool. A man of bluster and arrogance. You, on the other hand, are a man of secrets.
The holographic text glows in your quarters, a final confirmation of your next step.
[PURPLE SIMULATION AVAILABLE.]
"Who knotted these?" the guard bellows, his voice raw with frustration.
"Horses get creative, ser," you murmur, a smirk on your face.
"Revenge keeps me sharp. Time to end Bran's danger for good. Time to go for the big one. The purple simulation. The ultimate reward. This time, I'm not playing defense. This time, I'm going on the offense."
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