Marvel Multiverse Gacha

"Let me see," a boy said, pushing his way through the crowd.

After finding an opening, he finally made it to the front, catching sight of soldiers marching in formation.

They moved in perfect alignment, riding their horses with precision.

Those are Unsullied soldiers now present in the north.

"Now, it's time for round two," John muttered, riding alongside Roberta as they traveled on horseback.

The rest of the events unfolded as expected:

The meeting of the queens.

The fake alliances.

The march to the North.

John didn't bother joining the meeting.

Instead, he kept himself occupied, wandering underground to inspect the dragon bones—the massive skulls carefully preserved beneath the castle.

"You remember what I told you before," John said, turning to Roberta with a serious expression.

"I do," Roberta replied with a nod.

What he had shared with her was about Bran.

About his abilities.

I don't like time-related events, John thought, especially those tied to the past.

Bran's ability to interact with the past unnerved him.

From John's perspective, Bran could influence events more effectively when they were closer to his present.

The farther back in time he went, the weaker his interactions became.

The further the ripples, the fainter the impact, John mused silently.

Now the question arises: how do actions in the past affect the present?

It's similar to Harry Potter, he thought, recalling the Hodor event.

The present depends on the past. If someone tries to change it, perhaps the timeline repairs itself ,maybe the path changes, but the destination stays the same.

Then there are other theories.

Like all the Brandon Starks being the same person, he considered.

Time, as a concept, was a fragile and unpredictable thing.

Meeting

"We need to send a raven to the Night's Watch. There's no sense in manning the castle anymore," Jon said.

He sat with Sansa, Daenerys, and Bran, facing the gathered lords and ladies.

"At once, Your Grace," a messenger replied, quickly leaving to carry out the order.

Lady Mormont stood abruptly, her irritation clear. "Your Grace," she said, her tone sharp. "But you're not, are you? You left Winterfell as a king and came back as a...?"

The room murmured.

"A lord."

"Nothing at all?"

"It's not important," Jon said, his voice calm but firm, knowing where the conversation was headed.

"Not important?" Lady Mormont's irritation deepened. "We named you King in the North."

"You did, my lady. It was the honor of my life, and I will always be grateful for your faith." Jon stood, his presence commanding the room.

"When I left Winterfell, I told you we needed allies or we would die. I brought those allies home to fight alongside us," he said, glancing at Daenerys.

Then he turned back to the crowd. "I had a choice, to keep my crown or to protect the North. I chose the North."

The murmurs in the room grew louder.

Tyrion shifted in his seat, preparing to intervene, but a voice interrupted him.

"Can I say something?" John asked, his voice cutting through the room.

Everyone turned toward the left, where he stood. He had been quiet until now, listening intently, Roberta beside him. Without waiting for permission, he stepped into the center of the room, commanding attention.

"I'm an outsider," John began, his tone calm. "I don't care who rules the North or even the Seven Kingdoms."

The crowd tensed as his words landed.

"We're not friends, and we barely know each other," he continued, his voice carrying through the hall. "And if there's ever a fight between us, mark my words I 'll kill him."

His blunt declaration sent a ripple of unease through the room. Hands instinctively moved to swords, but John remained unbothered.

"But that's not the point, is it?" he said, his voice steady as he met their eyes. "You chose him because you believed in him. You chose him because you saw someone who would fight for you. Someone who would care for the North."

He paused, letting his words settle before continuing.

"And hasn't he done just that?"

He gestured toward Jon. "Who is left of him? Left of the Starks? Only three."

"How hard would it have been for him to leave the North, go to the South, and live a comfortable life? But he didn't. He stayed. He fought for you. He sacrificed his crown to protect the North. To protect you."

"The hardest choices require the strongest wills," John added. ( Actually Thanos )

"You chose him because you saw not only his ability but also his courage. Tell me, how many of you can say you could do the same? Forget about being better than him. Could you do the same?"

He glanced around the room. "Represent the North? Can anyone?"

Silence filled the hall. "No one, right?" John continued. "Instead of criticizing, you should be proud of your decision. He stood on your faith and did what was necessary for the North."

"Your choice wasn't wrong. The situation was."

People looked at John in amazement. Maybe it was the content of his words, or maybe it was the way he said it.

He turned his head toward Jon and nodded, who responded with a slight acknowledgment.

Eventually, the room fell silent. They were not fools everyone understood that what John had spoken was the truth.

"We had a common enemy," Tyrion said, finally getting his chance to speak.

The rest of the meeting proceeded, and eventually, it came to an end.

.