In Game of thrones with Sci fi Military system

The early morning light crept through the thin curtains of Illyrio Mopatis's lavish chambers. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine still lingered from the previous night's feast, but the mood in the room was far from celebratory.

Viserys Targaryen paced furiously, his pale hair disheveled and his violet eyes alight with fury. "This is an outrage!" he spat, his voice echoing off the marble walls. "How could this happen? How could you let this happen?"

Illyrio, seated on a cushioned chair, calmly sipped from a goblet of wine. His golden robes shimmered in the morning light, but his face was lined with worry. "Calm yourself, my prince," he said, his voice oily and measured. "We do not yet know the full story."

"Full story?" Viserys whirled on him, his voice rising. "My sister is gone! Stolen right from under your nose! How am I to wed her to Khal Drogo if she is missing? Do you have any idea what the Dothraki will do to us if they arrive and find no queen waiting for them?"

Before Illyrio could respond, the doors burst open, and a man stumbled in, his face pale and his tunic stained with blood.

"Master Illyrio!" the man gasped, falling to his knees. "Forgive me, but I must report—"

"Speak!" Viserys snapped, his frustration boiling over.

The man gulped, his eyes darting nervously between the two men. "We found the house where the girl was taken. Five of our men went in, but... but he killed them. All of them."

Illyrio's calm demeanor faltered for a moment, his hand tightening around the stem of his goblet. "He?"

"The stranger," the man said, his voice trembling. "He has weapons—strange weapons—like nothing I've ever seen. He shot them down without making a sound, like... like death itself."

Viserys's face turned red with rage. "You mean to tell me that my sister is being held by some vagabond with mysterious weapons, and you failed to stop him?"

The man bowed his head, unable to meet Viserys's fiery gaze.

Illyrio leaned forward, his mind racing. The description of the weapons intrigued him. Silent and deadly? That did not sound like anything found in Essos or Westeros. He had seen many strange things in his dealings with merchants and mercenaries, but this was something new.

"This stranger," Illyrio said carefully, "did he say anything? Did he give any indication of his intentions?"

"No, Master," the man replied. "But he... he let one of us live. He said to tell you to stay out of his way."

Viserys let out a bitter laugh. "Stay out of his way? He dares to threaten me? I am the last dragon! I will burn him alive!"

Illyrio raised a hand, silencing the prince. "Enough. Shouting will not bring your sister back." He turned his calculating gaze on the messenger. "Did you see where he went?"

The man shook his head. "No, Master. After the fight, he left me alone just to deliver this message".

Viserys's hands balled into fists. "This is a disaster! When Khal Drogo arrives and finds no queen, he will turn his khalasar loose on Pentos. Heads will roll, starting with yours, Illyrio!"

Illyrio's mind worked quickly, formulating a plan. "We must approach this carefully," he said, his tone measured. "The Khal has not arrived yet, and we have time to act. This stranger—he cannot remain hidden forever. We will find him, and when we do, we will retrieve your sister."

Viserys glared at him. "You had better, Illyrio. Or I will ensure that the Dothraki's wrath falls on you first."

Illyrio ignored the threat, his mind fixated on the description of the stranger's weapons. Whoever this man was, he was no ordinary thief. The tools he used and the precision with which he fought suggested a level of training and technology that Illyrio had never encountered.

"Send word to my spies," Illyrio commanded the messenger. "I want eyes on every street, every harbor, every alley in Braavos. This stranger will not elude me for long."

As the messenger scurried off, Viserys resumed his pacing, muttering curses under his breath. Illyrio leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Whoever you are, stranger," he murmured to himself, "you've just made this game far more interesting." But he had no idea of what could happen in future.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the boarded windows of the abandoned house, casting faint golden beams across the dusty floor. Alex stirred awake, his senses on high alert. His hand instinctively reached for the pistol by his side.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and stretched. The drone's voice buzzed softly in his earpiece.

Perimeter secure. No intrusions detected during the night.

"Good job," Alex muttered, standing and adjusting his gear. He opened the system interface, scrolling through his inventory to ensure everything was still in place. His sleeping bag, rations, and other essentials were safely stored. Only his pistol remained outside the inventory, tucked securely at his hip.

When he glanced at his credits, he was surprised to see they had increased by 40 units.

"System," Alex said aloud, "why did my credits go up?"

The system's calm, neutral voice responded immediately.

Credits are rewarded for actions that align with system objectives. Eliminating threats and securing assets contribute to mission success. Last night's confrontation resulted in credit rewards for neutralizing hostiles.

Alex smirked. "So defending myself comes with perks. Good to know."

An hour later, Alex realized Daenerys was still fast asleep, her breathing soft and steady. He frowned. "Guess those pills worked a little too well."

He leaned down, shaking her shoulder gently. "Hey, wake up. It's morning."

Daenerys groaned, her eyes fluttering open. She looked disoriented, glancing around the unfamiliar room. "Where...?"

"You're safe," Alex reassured her. "But those sleeping pills might have been a bit too strong. Next time, just one pill."

Daenerys sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Her silvery hair was slightly tangled, and she looked far younger than the regal figure Alex knew she would one day become.

"I'm hungry," she said softly, her voice hesitant.

"Figured as much," Alex replied, opening the system interface again. He purchased a fresh set of food supplies: bread, dried meats, and fruits. The items materialized in his inventory, and he laid them out in front of her.

"Eat up," he said. "We need to talk."

As they ate, Alex began explaining. "I know this is confusing, but you need to understand why I took you away."

Daenerys looked at him warily, her violet eyes narrowing. "Why? My brother—"

"Your brother," Alex interrupted, his tone firm, "was about to sell you to Khal Drogo."

She froze, the piece of bread in her hand hovering mid-air. "What?"

"Khal Drogo," Alex explained, "is a Dothraki warlord. His army, or khalasar, numbers in the tens of thousands. They're raiders, pillagers. Your brother planned to marry you off to him in exchange for an army to take back the Iron Throne."

Daenerys shook her head in disbelief. "No. Viserys wouldn't... he wouldn't do that to me."

Alex leaned back, his expression somber. "He would. He's desperate and power-hungry. To him, you're a pawn. A means to an end."

Tears welled up in Daenerys's eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "Why should I believe you? Who are you?"

Alex hesitated. He couldn't tell her about the system—it was his secret weapon, and exposing it could complicate everything. He decided to lean into her world's beliefs.

"I'm a magician," he said simply.

"A magician?" she echoed, skeptical but intrigued.

"Call it magic, call it something else," Alex said, shrugging. "I have abilities that most people don't understand. Like this."

He gestured toward the pistol at his side. "This weapon is one of my tools. It's silent, precise, and deadly. Last night, I used it to protect both of us."

Daenerys looked at the strange object, her curiosity evident. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Because it doesn't belong to this world," Alex replied, keeping his tone cryptic.

She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "So... what happens now?"

"Now," Alex said, his voice steady, "we stay hidden. Your brother and Illyrio will be searching for us. But I'll keep you safe, Daenerys. I promise."

She nodded reluctantly, still processing everything. Alex could see the storm of emotions in her eyes—fear, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of hope.

"Eat up," he said again, gesturing to the food. "We have a long day ahead."

As Daenerys returned to her meal, Alex silently vowed to keep her out of harm's way.