cxc

Robb said. 'This is what father would do' he convinced himself in his head.

"You foolish boy! Do you wish to be burned down?! As soon as we get near, we are going to get killed!"

The Lord of Highgarden roared as most of the lords nodded in agreement.

"They would dare strike a parley party?"

Asked the action lord of the North.

"Do you think those things care for the judgement of the Gods?"

Asked the Blackfish sarcastically.

"Robb let me do it. If I die, it will be no great loss."

Jon spoke for the first time.

"No Jon, I will go. You stay back!"

Said the lord of Winterfell.

"But-"

"I command you to stay back as your Lord. Jon, you will not move from your post!"

He finally ordered. Jon seemed to want to protest once more but instead bit his tongue as he glared at his brother.

"Very well… My Lord."

He said before storming out. 'I will not lose anyone else!' Robb swore to himself.

{One hour later}

Robb rode hard for the gate of Harrenhal alone as he refused any lord who proposed to accompany him. He alone would take the risk.

"LET THE SELF-PROCLAIMED KING COME OUT! I AM ROBB OF THE HOUSE OF STARK! I DEMAND A PARLAY!"

He shouted as he reached the gates.

Nothing seemed to happen, and Robb started to wonder if they even understood him. Then, upon the walls, a figure appeared from thin air. It was huge, wrapped in a black gown with golden borders and a black mask covering its face, only two blue dots visible where its eyes should be.

Then more appeared. Horrible dead men without eyes, and in their hands were the three people they came here for. On the thing's right was his father and Robb was relieved, seeing him seemingly unharmed apart from the chains blocking his hands and feet. The same could not be said for the king and queen though. They were ghostly to say the least. 10 years older than the last time he saw them. They were wearing rags and were unimaginably filthy, their eyes seeming soulless.

"Welcome, Robb of House Stark. Did you come to swear yourself?"

The thing said calmly, his male voice reaching Robb even when so distant, as if he was just next to the self-proclaimed king.

"YOU ARE SURROUNDED! RETURN THE KING AND QUEEN ALONGSIDE MY FAMILY AND ANY OTHER PRISONERS AND YOU AND YOURS WILL BE JUDGED FAIRLY!"

He yelled back, his gaze locking with his father's.

"No, I don't think I will. Nor do I think you will judge me fairly due to your barbaric standards. Go back to your host and leave this place, else you will know nothing but death."

Robb didn't even respond before leaving. 'Father, Sansa, Arya resist just a little longer.' he prayed in his head.

{Satoru's P.O.V.}

He watched as the rider returned to his army. At the same time, Gazef, Lakyus, Arche and Renner joined him on the top of the wall.

He looked as Arche shivered after passing next to one of the Jailers Of Giudecca. They were more demons than undead in Satoru's eyes but the game still classified them as undead. They were said to be ruthless with prisoners, making them feel like they were in hell, but he was sure that was just some corny crap the devs wrote. The thing was they were his only summon that could be considered viable to work as a jailer.

He looked along the walls. All his 1.000 undead were ready. More than a month before he went to investigate the Trident and discovered why his spell seemed to work so differently there. Not even a meter under the earth there were thousands of corpses, probably remaining from the battle that took place not even 20 years before. From that moment on, for the last month, he visited that place and used his daily summons to raise all sorts of undead warriors and casters. Due to them being summoned by using corpses, they didn't despawn like regular summons, granting him the ability of slowly raising a small army of level 30 undead.

'Still, I didn't think there would be so many… well it should have been expected. After all, the Seven Kingdoms seem to be slightly smaller than Re-Estize and Baharuth combined' he thought as he analyzed the army before him.

"This is not going to be pretty. I suggest you leave if you feel like you can't watch anymore. It isn't a shame to not want to look at a hundred thousand men dying."

He said but nobody moved.

"Then, it is time."

He said in a solemn tone as magic circles appeared all around him in a radius of ten meters. He heard the faint gasp of shock from Arche as the others showed no less shock or awe.

"There are so many… what kind of tier is this?! The mental strain to sustain this would be…"

Arche mumbled as her eyes were wide as plates.

In the meantime, the opposing army began to move. The left wing went for the less defended walls while the right readied to charge once the first wave was getting the full attention of his troops, even if that wouldn't come to be.

'Even now that so many are going to die… I still can't feel any pity or guilt… no, this sensation is…' Satoru glanced down at Renner, the memory of her dead visage overlapping with her current one. 'That's right… this is… satisfaction… and they will all feel the same pain I did.' he thought darkly.

'Oh right, this is supposed to be a ritual so… Forgive me Ulbert, I will need to carry some of your roleplay.' he returned to reality as he pondered what to say.

"Hear me! Mother of monsters! Crusher of kingdoms!"

He began as he tried to put up his best acting skills.

"Accept this offering and bring ruin to my enemies!"

He continued as he activated his first level of passive aura.

"I invoke you! I call you! I summon you!"

His voice rose in volume.

"Come! [Iä Shub-Niggurath]!"

{Mace's P.O.V.}

It was an instant. He just blinked, and they fell, all of them. As if they were mimicking a wave, every last man and horse, lord and peasant, knight and scoundrel.

Lord Renly and his son as well, all down. After that, everything stopped. Every man on the battlefield just tried to understand why 50,000 men suddenly dropped, seemingly dead, for that could not be the truth.

But then somethingelse happened. From the sky, something descended. A pitch-black giant sphere, just falling on the battlefield, upon those downed men. It popped like a bubble as soon as it touched the ground, engulfing in its dark liquid every last of the downed soldiers.

"W-What…?"

Mace heard one of his bannermen mumble incoherently behind him, but before anyone could say anything else, they came.

Rising from the pile of goo, tall as giants, with several goat-like hoofs serving as legs, sustaining a mess of tentacles and teeth.

Mace was unsure of what he was looking at, or if he was looking at something at all. Was this all a dream? But then they roared, all three of them, at the same time. It should have been funny for such a creature to cry out like a lamb but for some reason, he felt warmness go down his legs… oh, that was right, he just pissed himself, and probably shit himself too, in absolute fear.

And then they moved. Uncertain, like lambs taking their first steps, they moved… toward them… and then… as the screams began Mace knew… that was no dream… that was a FUCKING NIGHTMARE!

{Robb's P.O.V.}

He watched as the Reach's host was literally crushed. He just couldn't move. What could he even do? Charge? Fall back? To what end? There was just one outcome… death!

'Nothing but death' he remembered the thing, no, the monster's words 'Am I… going to die?' he asked himself. He always felt ready to die if it was for his family, but until now he never actually feared for his life once.

"R-Robb! Robb!"

He was slightly aware of his brother calling his name, but he could not bother to answer. Then he felt someone grab him and pull him away.

"Retreat! Fall back! Protect your lord and run!"

He heard the words of his brother as he felt like he was moving but still… what did it matter in the end?

{Tywin's P.O.V.}

50 years. He spent 50 long years in rebuilding the Lannister name and bringing it to heights they never saw since before the Conquest, and now it was all gone, literally crushed under hoofs of a thing not belonging to this world. His men fought, at first, then they limited themselves to scattering like rats running from a cat.

He and 100 of his most trusted were falling back as those things were still occupied with his men, but when he dared to hope he could get away from this hell, they were abruptly stopped by another host. A host wearing a sun pierced by a spear and with a madly smiling man at their head.

"The day of judgement has come… who guessed that if I wanted to kill a monster, I just had to bow to a far greater one?"

Rhetorically asked the younger prince of Dorne.

"And Clegane and Lorch are here too… this is such a wonderful day… now then, shall we dance?"

His maniacal grin intensified.

{Satoru's P.O.V.}

The undead stayed silent as he watched the three Dark Young wash away the army as if it was but a bunch of ants.

"To think, you went through this…"

Gazef said, a solemn look on his face. Lakyus just averted her gaze.

"Is this the h-highest form of m-magic?"

Mumbled Arche as she trembled all over, Satoru just placed a hand on her shoulder, slowly calming her down.

"I do not have an answer for that, but learn this Arche, great power leads to great responsibility… and those who cannot bear it, will be crushed."

The young girl nodded averting her gaze at last.

Renner… Renner just just continued to look, as if this was a show and her the spectator. She gave him a glance and just took his hand in hers as she resumed her silent watch, a flat expression on her face.

"What kind of demon are you?"

The faint gruff voice said. It took a moment for Satoru to understand where it came from, but at last he turned to the chained king.

"Excuse me?"

He asked.

"What kind of demon ARE YOU?!"

The king seemed to regain some of his strength for a moment as he yelled.

"Oh, I am afraid you are mistaken."

Satoru began as he removed his mask with his free hand while his gloves disappeared showing off his skeletal visage and hands. His robes opened to let the world see his white ribcage and the World Item it housed.

"I am no demon! I am undead!"

He declared to the king whose eyes lost all semblance of sanity.

"Just take it… the crown… the kingdoms… take it all… this is what you want right? Then take it… and let me be…"

He said, his dead tone making Satoru feel slightly bad for his little show… but in the end… they deserved it. For Renner and for his heart. This was retribution!

{One Month Later}

{King's Landing}

{Varys' P.O.V.}

The Master of Whispers, also called the Spider, in more than 20 years of service to the crown, may it be held by a mad or idiotic man found himself at a loss.

Everything went to shit, to use one of the last king's favorite words. Daenerys was still stuck with the Dothraki and Aegon didn't even proclaim himself alive, and yet, the Seven Kingdoms have fallen to an unstoppable force led by a sorcerer, nonetheless.

His little birds singed of impossible songs. Of 50,000 men slain in the blink of a second. Of giant black demons of unspoken physiology marching and splattering every living thing in their way. All of his birds spoke the same thing or else Varys would have not believed it. The few survivors were said to be mad, trying to kill themselves or gouge out their own eyes to not have to see ever again. They spoke of farmers slaughtering all their cattle for they could not bear the sounds they made.

'And yet, I am still here' the spider said as he observed, with his own eyes, the dead soldiers marching through the street of King's Landing, no one daring to even put-up minimal resistance. Varys doubted that they would even if the letter saying to not do so from Robert wouldn't have come.

'And so, magic once again rips apart my life' he said as he wondered if the Gods really took so much pleasure in playing with him.

It didn't take much for the procession to reach the Red Keep. The new banners were already hanging, to signify their surrender. A dragon's skull on a field of black with two crimson bands, one on its left and one on its right. A peculiar symbol, one that was reminiscent of the old ruling house.

Varys made for the Throne room. There, just outside the doors stood the lords paramount.

'Or those who can still claim to have a right to call themselves so…' he added in his head. Alongside the remaining part of the Small Council. 'If something good came from this, it is that Littlefinger ran away in a hurry, probably seething in anger and confusion' only imagining that scene brought a light smile on the Spider's face.

But then the King and Queen came, alongside their entourage. They would have not been considered much at first sight. A warrior, a girl more resembling a Lannister than anything, another girl who seemed affiliated with the faith judging by her manner of dressing, the new child Queen with her piercing blue eyes and pale skin. 'No wonder they think of her as one of the Others' he admitted. But the one who truly brought out attention to the group was the new King, and King of Death didn't seem such a fancy title anymore once you met him in person, or so Varys thought. White bones and crimson flames in the place of eyes, as high as the Mountain That Rides and wrapped in the most divine of gowns. Even his movements seemed royal in a strange way.

Varys heard small murmurs behind him as the king simply passed them all silently, entering in the throne room. As was customary, he advanced toward the Iron Throne. 'At least this time we didn't have to go through that excuse of a ceremony in the Great Sept.' Varys said to himself as he remembered the panic the Faith was currently in, torn between declaring the king a monster, spawn of the Seven Hells, and fearing for the consequences of such an action.

"What an ugly thing, such a soreness for the eyes."

The comment was spoken loudly and clearly from the so-called Night Queen as she scowled at the throne of Aegon the First.

"On that we agree Renner. I have a far better option in mind."

The King of Death spoke for the first time, his voice fascinatingly human even if of a dark tone that Varys was sure no man possessed.

Then the impossible happened. The king raised only one finger toward the Iron Throne, and it shattered into millions of pieces which disappeared into thin air as if it never was there to begin with.

Shouts of shock and horror pervaded the hall as the symbol of the unification of Westeros was no more.

The king stepped up to the non-existing throne and made it as if to sit, and from nowhere a new throne appeared under him, far grander and made out of an unknown metal, fully incased in a dark purple crystal of unknown origin.

"This is far better."

The king said to no one but himself as the queen made to sit on the king's lap. An almost comic scene if not for the circumstances of the events taking place before the Spider's eyes.

"Now present yourself, lords paramount!"

The queen ordered as the assembled lords could do nothing but obey.

"Prince Doran, Lord Paramount of Dorne."

Said the middle-aged man in the wheelchair, currently being escorted by his brother Oberyn. Both Princes bowed their head in a sign of respect.

"Willas Tyrell, Lord Paramount of the Reach!"

Exclaimed the young man as he and his grandmother just behind him went down in an elegant bow.

"Tyrion Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands!"

Announced the dwarf, now turned lord after the death of his father, kneeling as best he could with his body.

"S-Shireen Baratheon, L-Lady P-Paramount of the S-Stormlands!"

Almost cried out a stammering, disfigured young girl. 'It was said that Dragonstone suffered a great fire a month ago… the poor child is the only one remaining of her family' the Spider thought as he felt some pity for the girl. 'Still, she seems to have her faithful onion knight with her' he assumed, glancing at the older man kneeling alongside his lady.

"Walder Frey, here in the name of Hoster Tully… Your Grace, we are going to need a new Lord Paramount soon, as Lord Tully is old and sick and without any heirs."

The parasite of a lord said bowing respectfully, certainly in hope of receiving such a title himself.

"Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North."

Said the last lord in the room who reluctantly bowed as well.

"Your Grace-"

Began Barristan Selmybefore being shut by a glare of the new queen.

"Do not speak without my permission sir knight."

She said harshly as she seemed to find a new comfortable spot on her current… seat.

"As of now, both Kingsguard and Small Council are disbanded. There will be no exception to this."

That shocked everyone. Not even Aerys the Mad ever suggested something like this.

"As for the Lords Paramount present today, you are hereby reassigned to your previous posts. Be warned that any more uprising or revolts will be met with drastic measures."

She continued.

"For all those who are not here currently… The Vale's situation is to be further analyzed as they did not move against us or in our favor."

She began and Varys had finally to concede that she was good. Very good for a child of not even 10 namedays. She knew perfectly how to play and she was now dominating for she had every card in her hand.

"Balon Greyjoy has declared the Iron Islands independence… I assure you that by the next month the Iron Islands will only be a name in the history books. Let this be a lesson for all."

She said stoically.

"Shella Whent, come forward."

She then commanded as the frail looking woman came forward trembling.

"As of now the Riverlands will not need a Lord Paramount as I have decided that the rebuilt Harrenhal will be the new Royal Palace. It is far more central and worthy of being my residence than this dumpster you all call a capital."

Again, shocking noises filled the hall. Walder Frey seemed to want to say something but stopped in his tracks.

"The Crownlands and Dragonstone will become the new Easterlands and will be ruled by my loyal friend and noble Lady Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra."

The queen continued, uncaring of the reaction of her new subjects, while waving at the girl resembling a Lannister in appearance.

"The Kingsguard is forever! We cannot be dismissed! We swore an oath for life!"

Apparently not being able to contain his anger and frustration any longer, Barristan Selmy bellowed for all the hall to hear. The queen didn't even glance at him.

"Very well. You will serve me as well, if you insist so."

She said, confusing some of those who thought her ruthless. In the next moment, as if appearing out of nowhere, one of the dead creatures appeared behind Barristan, and before anyone could say anything, cut off his head.

Some men and women screamed but apparently the best, or worse, was yet to come as the king rose his hand and the body of Ser Barristan was swallowed by darkness before said darkness began to morph until it formed a new dead creature identical to the one who just killed said knight.

'By the Gods…' Varys could not help to think otherwise as even he had a shocked expression on his face as this all happened.

"Now you can serve me, and interrupt me no longer…"

The queen said for all to hear.

'A monster… Maegor would have been considered a saint if compared to this one…' the Spider could not help but think.

"As a gesture of gratitude from me, Lady Shella will still be considered the Last Lady of Harrenhal, as for, when she will die, its name will be Queen's Heart."

The girl continued as if nothing happened. 'A mockery of the capital? A reference to it being on the center of Westeros? Or some other hidden message?' once again the spymaster found himself speechless and with more questions than before.

"Now… In these past months

 I have also learnt of a… troubling habit of yours… You lords apparently enjoy backstabbing each other and aiming to sit on the throne… you call it the Great Game I think…"

The queen smiled at them while talking in a sweet tone as if reprimanding children who didn't know any better.

"Let me say this once. If something happens to me, or any of my entourage, Satoru, your king, will use once again that spell many of you saw back at Harrenhal, and this time, the young lambs will not go for your armies, they will trample every last one of your fortresses and your loved ones along with them… am I understood?"

She asked rhetorically as no one dared to even raise their head.

"The spell I used is based on a sacrifice. The larger the sacrifice, the more lambs will be summoned we could say…"

The dark chilling tone of the King of Death filled the hall once more.

"So, I managed to summon 3 by using 50,000 men. Think about how many I could bring to this world if I used the 1 million souls in this city…"

The king mused as some of the lords began to shudder in fear.

'This is it… the end, what else can be done?'

The Spider never believed in Gods. Not really. He believed there was something out there, the thing he saw in the flames, but he never thought there could be a being worthy of the title of God as men imagined them.

And yet, what else could he call the being sitting on the throne? Someone who could kill millions in one moment and unleash hell upon the remaining world. Was this not a God? Many would have said Demon fit that being better, but what really was the difference? In the end the result would be the same, regardless of the name.

"But that is enough for now. As any well-trained horse, we need to use the whip as well as the carrot… we now gave you a taste of the whip, but we also want to show you the carrot…"

The God of Death said, as one of his creations, robed in a jet-black ragged gown, approached Prince Doran, its putrid hands extended.

"For your great service to us, and their immediate show of loyalty, we reward house Martell with a gift of our own."

The king said as a green light washed over Doran who gasped in what seemed to be surprise.

"Now rise, Doran of House Martell, Rise and acknowledge your rulers!"

The God commanded and, to the shock of all who knew of his condition, the eldest prince stood easily from his seat. As surprised as everyone or maybe even more, but, with just an instant of hesitation, he immediately knelt alongside his younger brother.

"Remember this, lords lords of Westeros! The whip may lash hard, but the reward can be as sweet and grand as your most wild dreams!"

He proclaimed, casting the final nail in the coffin.

'And so, they can be as magnanimous as they are cruel. Are these not the Gods you all were so much awaiting?' asked the spider to no one with all the spite he could muster. But he will not give up. If he wanted what was best for the realm, he will need to make the realm earn it as the Gods demanded.

"Welcome lords, welcome to the Western Empire."

The Night Queen declared with an impish smirk as her King of Death gently caressed her head.

A.N.

This… was… HUGE! It really took everything out of me, really. So, give me a review! I earned it!

Tiredness aside, I am glad I managed to finish this. I didn't expect it would be so long at all, and I still cut stuff from it! But really adding anything more would have not allowed me to publish this today.

I am grateful for all those who followed me for these last two years! Hope to see you all the next year as well!

Now, for small nitpicks, the Dragonstone incident was actually the result of Melisandre trying to spy on Satoru, and all of us know what happens when you try to do so… It should have been a POV but it was really short and more comical than anything else really, so I cut it out.

I also know Westeros is supposed to be bigger than the Kingdom and Empire combined, but really, the numbers do not add up, so I based myself on the scales of their army as base for that statement (taking into account the North is largely unpopulated), not like it really changes anything.

Also, sorry if some characters didn't seem believable in your eyes. I did my best but GoT and ASOIAF characters are really hard and complex to write, and this was only intended to be a one-shot for the fun of it, not a serious story.

That said, stay healthy and have a nice day!

PS: Give kudos to my poor beta who had to correct all this