"Damn Jaime and Cersei Lannister…" Lucas muttered, lying on his hospital bed. "Such a disgrace… all that potential wasted."
He raised his hand to his head, staring at the wealth and power his family held, and let out a bitter murmur: "If I were a Lannister… I would have been the greatest Lannister in the family's history. Not arrogance, just confidence. All the power, all the wealth… and yet, they meddle in things that are none of their business."
These thoughts replayed every time he watched Game of Thrones. Each viewing fueled the same mix of anger and frustration.
Then came the news that shattered his life: liver cancer. Lucas knew his time was limited, but he clung to hope. "I wish for another chance… a chance at the greatness I deserve."
The darkness around him deepened, and his vision turned black, until a gentle voice called out:
"Wake up, Lucas…"
He opened his eyes to find himself in a strange place, standing before a mysterious old man, with wise features and attire reminiscent of a legendary wizard.
"Oh my God… he looks like Gandalf," Lucas thought to himself.
"Are you a god?" he asked hesitantly.
The old man chuckled. "Ha ha ha… no, I am not. I am the Guardian of Balance across the Multiverse."
Lucas blinked in confusion. "If I'm not here… shouldn't I be in heaven or something?"
The old man smiled. "You have been chosen as a lucky soul to reincarnate in any world you desire. Every thousand years, a soul is chosen, and this millennium… it is your turn."
Lucas tried to hold back the flood of questions, but curiosity got the better of him: "And then… what?"
"You must choose the world you wish to be reborn into…"
"The world of Game of Thrones!" Lucas said without hesitation, his voice filled with determination.
The old man smiled, but with a warning: "Very well… but know this, this world is corrupt. Virtuous people are rare here."
The warning did not shake Lucas' confidence.
"You may now choose a power to possess, but it must remain within reasonable limits of the world, so as not to disrupt its balance."
Lucas thought for a moment, then declared firmly: "I want to combine Tony Stark's intelligence from Marvel with the cunning and madness of the Joker from DC… into one supermind."
The old man raised an eyebrow, impressed: "An unusual choice… most chosen ones ask for powers like Superman or a Devil Fruit. But yours… is fascinating."
"Now," he continued, "choose two fields of knowledge you wish to master."
"I want complete military knowledge—from warfare technology to battlefield tactics… and I also want to master agriculture." Lucas said confidently.
"And finally," the old man said, "which family do you wish to be born into?"
"I want to be born in the Lannister family… but not as Tywin's son, rather as the eldest son of Kevan Lannister."
The old man smiled. "Very well, it seems we are done here. I hope you never regret your choices… Farewell."
Before Lucas could reply, he felt his body being pulled into darkness, his consciousness dissolving between worlds.