In Game of thrones with Sci fi Military system

The room was silent again, save for the faint hum of the invisible drone circling above, its advanced sensors scanning the area for any sign of movement. Alex sat on the floor, his back against the cold wall, the adrenaline of the fight wearing off. His fingers brushed the barrel of his pistol as he stared into the dim glow of the lantern, lost in thought.

The images came unbidden, dragging him back to a life that now felt like a distant dream.

Alex had always wanted to make a difference. Growing up in the rough streets of his city, he'd seen enough pain, crime, and injustice to last a lifetime. He could still remember the day he told his parents he wanted to be a police officer. His father had laughed, a deep, warm sound that had always made Alex feel safe.

"You've got the heart for it, kid," his dad had said, ruffling his hair. "Just don't forget to keep your head on straight."

But that life had been short-lived. His parents were taken from him in a car accident when he was only twelve. The memory of the knock on the door, the officer's grim expression, and the words he'd said—words that shattered Alex's world—still haunted him.

With no family to turn to, Alex grew up in a foster system that was just as broken as the streets he lived on. He learned to fend for himself, to fight, to survive. But through it all, he never gave up on his dream of becoming a cop.

Years of training followed—long days at the gym, grueling hours at the shooting range. He wasn't the best shot, but he was consistent. He learned how to aim, how to control his breathing, how to stay calm under pressure.

By the time he was old enough to apply, Alex was confident he could pass any test they threw at him. And he did. Physical exams, written tests, interviews—he aced them all. But it wasn't enough.

The rejection letter came with no explanation, but Alex knew the truth. Corruption ran deep in the department. Promotions and positions were handed out to those with connections or money, and Alex had neither.

The bitterness of that moment still lingered, a wound that never quite healed. He'd worked so hard, trained so long, only to be cast aside.

Alex shook his head, dragging himself out of the memory. He glanced at Daenerys, who was still sleeping peacefully.

"Guess all that training wasn't for nothing," he muttered, his hand tightening around the pistol. "At least I can handle myself here."

The thought of his parents brought a pang of sorrow. Would they have been proud of him? Of the man he'd become?

He let out a long breath, his gaze turning to the faint shimmer of moonlight filtering through the boarded windows. "Not exactly how I thought I'd make a difference," he said to himself.

The drone's voice interrupted his musings.

All clear. No movement detected within the perimeter.

"Good," Alex said, standing and stretching. "Keep it that way."

He adjusted his earpiece, addressing the drone directly. "Stay on duty. Alert me immediately if anything changes."

Acknowledged,

the drone replied, its tone emotionless.

Satisfied, Alex lay down on his sleeping bag, the weight of the day finally catching up to him. His eyes closed, and the memories of his past faded, replaced by the pressing concerns of his new reality.

For now, he allowed himself to rest, trusting the drone to keep watch. Somewhere deep in his dreams, a faint smile touched his lips as he remembered his father's laugh.

The year 297 AC was one of quiet tension and growing storms. Across Westeros, the great houses played their games of power, unaware that their actions would soon ripple across the world.

The North

In Winterfell, Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, ruled with honor and fairness. The Stark children were growing into their roles: Robb was training to lead, Jon Snow brooded over his bastardy, and Arya sparred with her wooden sword, defying the expectations of a noblewoman.

Beyond the Wall, the Night's Watch was struggling to maintain its numbers and purpose. Reports of strange sightings—ghostly figures and reanimated corpses—spread unease among the black brothers. Jeor Mormont, the Lord Commander, was preparing for a ranging mission, though the full truth of what awaited them remained hidden.

The Riverlands

In Riverrun, House Tully stood strong under the leadership of Hoster Tully, though his health was failing. His children were scattered: Catelyn Stark in the North, Lysa Arryn in the Vale, and Edmure Tully preparing to inherit the lordship. The Riverlands remained peaceful, but the tensions of the realm pressed ever closer.

The Vale

High in the Eyrie, Lysa Arryn ruled as Lady Regent of the Vale, clinging to her son, Robert, with an obsessive protectiveness. The knights of the Vale remained loyal to her, but whispers of her erratic behavior began to spread.

The Westerlands

In Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister maintained his iron grip over the Westerlands. His wealth funded the crown, and his reputation as a ruthless tactician kept his enemies at bay. His children—Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion—were caught in their own struggles.

Jaime served in the Kingsguard, ever loyal to his sister and his own pride. Cersei played her role as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, scheming to secure power for herself and her children. Tyrion, meanwhile, was drowning his sorrows in wine and wit, a sharp mind wasted in a world that underestimated him.

The Reach

In Highgarden, House Tyrell flourished under the leadership of Mace Tyrell. His children—Willas, Garlan, Loras, and Margaery—were poised to solidify the Tyrells' influence across Westeros. Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, was already gaining fame for his skill in the lists and his beauty.

The Stormlands

In Storm's End, the Baratheon brothers plotted their futures. Stannis Baratheon, the Lord of Dragonstone, simmered with resentment over his perceived slights and lack of recognition. Renly Baratheon, the youngest, was the Master of Laws and charmed the court with his charisma.

The Crownlands

In King's Landing, the Iron Throne was occupied by King Robert Baratheon, but his rule was a hollow shadow of what it had once been. The realm groaned under his debts, his council was divided, and his queen, Cersei, plotted against him.

Eddard Stark's foster son, Theon Greyjoy, served as a ward in the North, his father Balon Greyjoy biding his time in the Iron Islands. The Red Keep buzzed with intrigue as Varys the Spider and Petyr Baelish, the master manipulators, spun their webs.

Dorne

In Sunspear, Prince Doran Martell ruled with quiet patience, though his heart ached with memories of his sister, Elia, murdered during Robert's Rebellion. The Martells harbored a simmering resentment against the crown, but Doran's cautious nature kept Dorne out of open conflict.

The Free Cities

Across the Narrow Sea, the Free Cities were bustling with trade and mercenary activity. In Pentos, Illyrio Mopatis plotted with Viserys Targaryen to restore House Targaryen to the Iron Throne, believing the time was ripe for a dragon's return. The Dothraki Sea teemed with nomadic riders, the powerful khalasars ready to plunder and raid.

In Braavos, the Iron Bank observed the growing debts of the Iron Throne with interest, knowing that power often lay with those who controlled the purse strings.

The Targaryens

Far from Westeros, Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen were supposed to be pawns in Illyrio's schemes. Viserys, consumed by his obsession with reclaiming the Iron Throne, was negotiating with Khal Drogo, a powerful Dothraki warlord, to secure an army in exchange for Daenerys.

However, unknown to everyone, Daenerys had been taken from under Viserys's control by a mysterious stranger named Alex. His actions in Braavos, though seemingly isolated, were the first cracks in a carefully laid web of schemes.

The Unknown Threat

In the far North, beyond the Wall, the White Walkers stirred, their icy touch creeping ever closer. The realm remained oblivious to the true danger lurking in the shadows, consumed as it was by its petty squabbles and political maneuvering.

But the winds of winter were beginning to blow, and with them came a reckoning that none could escape.