The Horn of Winter.
The legendary Horn of Joramun.
It was said that once blown, it would wake giants from the earth and bring the Wall crashing down.
The bait Bloodraven dangled was like a venomous snake, seeking to slither into the deepest cracks of Lynn's heart.
He wanted to trade this world-ending artifact for Lynn's loyalty.
Or rather, for Lynn's submission.
"Retrieve the Horn of Winter, and I shall impart all my knowledge, all my legacy, to you."
The ancient voice dripped with temptation.
Facing Brynden's offer, Lynn's face remained impassive.
He simply stared quietly at the three-eyed raven on the floor.
"An intriguing proposal."
Lynn's voice was flat, betraying neither joy nor anger.
The raven cocked its head.
Its blood-red eye gleamed with the certainty of victory.
It seemed to be waiting for Lynn to continue.
"However, Lord Brynden Rivers."
Lynn pronounced the name slowly, emphasizing every syllable.
"Oh, no. My apologies."
As if realizing a mistake, Lynn corrected himself.
"Perhaps you haven't been Brynden for a very long time."
The ancient voice in his consciousness stalled for a fraction of a second.
On the floor, a nearly imperceptible ripple passed through the raven's red eye.
"You seem to harbor many misunderstandings about me."
Bloodraven's voice sounded again, carrying an ancient authority that felt offended.
"I am helping you, Lynn."
"Helping me?"
Lynn laughed.
The sound was jarring in the quiet room.
Startled, Winter's three little heads snapped up in unison, looking at Lynn in confusion.
"Do you want to help me, or do you want to help yourself?"
Lynn took a step forward, looming over the raven.
His shadow swallowed the bird whole.
"Your so-called legacy is no gift."
"It is a carefully designed consumption."
Bloodraven froze.
Even the tips of the raven's feathers seemed solidified in the air.
The voice in Lynn's mind vanished completely.
Dead silence filled the room.
"You choose your so-called heirs—whether the Children of the Forest thousands of years ago, or Brynden Rivers centuries ago, or Brandon Stark whom you target now."
"They are drowned by your ocean of memories, and in the end, they all become you."
Lynn's voice was a knife, precisely slicing open Bloodraven's holy facade to reveal the rotting truth beneath.
"Their consciousness, their joys and sorrows, everything that makes them who they are, is washed away by thousands of years of your memories."
"Eventually, they lose themselves in that sea."
"The one who receives the 'legacy' comes to believe your memories are his own."
"Your will becomes his will."
"In this way, even if your body rots, your unique memory as the Greenseer seizes dominance in a new host."
"They are no longer themselves."
"They simply become the next you."
"The next... Three-Eyed Raven."
With every sentence Lynn spoke, the raven on the floor trembled almost imperceptibly.
Its three eyes fixed on Lynn, no longer with mockery or temptation.
But with unmasked shock.
How could he know?
This secret was the core essence of the Greenseer's inheritance.
It was the uncrossable boundary between a Greenseer and a mortal.
The so-called Greenseer, from the dawn of time until now, had always been one singular entity!
When the body aged, he would select a successor, occupy a youthful vessel, and achieve the continuation of life.
Brynden was his choice then.
Now that Brynden was old, he had set his sights on Brandon Stark.
But Lynn's appearance had saved Bran, completely disrupting his plan.
So, he had turned to Lynn, this "variable" with even greater potential.
The Greenseer was utterly shaken.
How could a soul that didn't belong to this world see through all of this?
He had plotted for thousands of years without a single error!
" The future Brandon Stark is the next host you've chosen, isn't he?"
Lynn's voice turned cold, carrying the weight of judgment.
"A gifted child, a pure soul. What a perfect vessel."
"Your so-called guidance is nothing more than luring him step by step into the cage you've woven."
"You will manipulate him into witnessing the birth of the first Night King, losing him in the past."
"Waiting for the moment the dagger of the Children of the Forest plunges into his chest, when he can never return, becoming nothing but a husk for the Night King."
"And you take that opportunity to invade his body, gaining new life."
"The Children only needed a weapon against the First Men, a puppet with no will of its own!"
"But you, Great Greenseer."
"You sealed the unfortunate souls you chose inside the Night King. Those souls possess your memories; they are essentially other versions of you."
"That is why the Night King possesses the ability to know everything!"
"You are the culprit behind all this tragedy!"
"You sit high above, stealing the history of the entire continent, playing with the fates of all men."
"Whether the Night King wins or loses, as long as you survive, you keep these memories. You live forever in this world. You can never lose!"
"Am I right, Greenseer?"
Lynn paused, the corner of his mouth curving into a cold arc.
"Or perhaps, I should use your other title?"
"The Night King?"
Lynn's words struck like a thunderbolt from the heavens, exploding within Bloodraven's ancient consciousness!
On that face of feathers and beak, an expression of horror almost too human appeared.
He looked at Lynn with utter disbelief.
This man had not only seen through his present.
He saw clearly the entire game board he had laid out for the future!
An unprecedented sense of crisis enveloped him.
For the first time, he felt things slipping from his control.
This variable named Lynn was a threat to his very existence.
"You..."
It was a long time before the ancient voice sounded in Lynn's mind again, dry and strained.
"...What exactly are you?"
"Me?"
Lynn withdrew his gaze and slowly sat back on the edge of the bed.
He reached out and gently stroked the cold scales on Winter's central head.
The amber eyes squinted in pleasure, and a satisfied purr rumbled in its throat.
"I am just a man who wants to live a good life."
Lynn's voice calmed.
"I have absolutely no interest in becoming an old monster trapped in tree roots, surviving on sap and memories."
"Night King, put away your self-righteous tricks."
"Cast a wide net, gather many fish, choose the best one. Truly, a fine game of chess."
"It's a pity you chose the wrong opponent."
Lynn's gaze fell on the raven again, cold and sharp.
"From this day forth, do not bother me again."
"Otherwise, I won't mind going to that Weirwood tree and burning your old bones to ash before you find your next victim."
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